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dawnagustd · 1 year

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the kneady baker || ksj

The queen has made her list and checked it twice. She’s visiting those who have been naughty, and punishing them in ways that are oh so nice.

- Part of the Unholy Night Series.

Seokjin isn’t just a handsome man; his baking skills are top tier.

Anything from freshly baked cookies to custom wedding cakes, he can easily whip it up. But he’s a very greedy man, and he never gives as much as he receives.

This guy loves to host one-on-one sessions for wealthy single ladies, looking to learn a few tips and tricks on Thursdays. However, instead of learning to fill pastries. They’re the ones who are getting stuffed with the baker’s big fat cock.

Those lonely women looking for a bit of fun, pay a hefty price for Seokjin’s entertainment, but it is never enough. He always wants more, and he gets it. How could they say no to a handsome face like his?

He knows of his gift, and he uses it well. Tonight, he’s in for it, though. Being hot will get him nowhere. You may have abandoned the toymaker for a sweet treat, but… You might as well see if the baker’s dick is worth the hype while you’re here.

“I need to know what you taste like.”

Before you could even properly introduce yourself, Seokjin was all over you. It was only a matter of time before he wanted more.

He carelessly slides everything off of his workstation, making room for you to sit on top of his counter. You wrap your legs around his waist after he hoists you up. A squeak of surprise slips past your lips when he suddenly rips your top, throwing it and discarding it somewhere across the kitchen.

His mouth reunites with your flesh, and he begins claiming territory that doesn’t belong to him. Your fingers find refuge in his hair. You tug gently and elicit soft growls from his throat. The sound sends vibrations to your pussy. Your body tingles with want, but you won’t give in easily.

You arch your back to grant him more access when his lips brush against your left nipple, but he withdraws and leaves you confused. However, not for long. You should have known that he’s a man with many tricks—or treats, up his sleeve.

Seokjin opens the tiny refrigerator to his right and pulls out a small clear bowl with white cream inside. Your curious eyes follow his movements as he sets it next to you and removes the plastic wrap from over its rim.

“Everything’s better with whipped cream,” he insists.

The baker then dips his finger in the bowl and collects some of the cream, bringing it to your lips carefully.

“Try some,” he whispers.

You grab his wrist before bringing his hand closer. You notice how Seokjin’s brows raise when your lips wrap around his finger. Your eyelids flutter shut when the fluffy sweetness hits your taste buds. A delightful moan erupts from your throat as you swirl your tongue around his digit. Seokjin can barely contain himself as watches you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

His voice oozes with lust. When you open your eyes and find him staring at you with the utmost admiration, you know he’s whipped and won’t be able to resist your charm.

“So are you,” you respond.

Your compliment makes him smile, but he remains focused. Seokjin grabs a palette knife lying nearby and dips it into the whipped cream. He brings it up to your chest but pauses and waits for your approval.

“You’re okay with this?... It isn’t sharp.”

His manners impress you.

“A gentleman… I like that,” you applaud. You smirk looking at the icing-covered blade, and then your eyes move back to the baker. “Go for it.”

You lean back and rest your weight on your palms, poking out your chest and allowing Seokjin to decorate you like you’re one of his freshly baked goodies.

Once he’s done, he steps back to admire his creation. His orbs twinkle and his mouth salivate at the sight of your cream-dressed mounds. You lift your finger and beckon for him to come closer.

“Am I going to have to clean myself up?” you ask.

Seokjin shakes his head.

“Of course not, beautiful.”

Seokjin dives in and cleanses your body with his tongue, licking up everything in his path. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to his body. Your centers meet and the friction of his jeans easily penetrates through your thin lace panties.

“You’re fucking delicious, baby. Once I’m done here, I’ll lick your sweet pussy clean too,” he promises.

“Fuck.”

He takes your nipple between his teeth, and you beg him for more. You grab onto his broad shoulders as you desperately try to find relief in his denim-clad crotch. Seokjin grinds against you, palms grabbing handfuls of your ass to guide your body with his. However, it’s only moments before you both are craving more.

“Let’s swap,” you suggest. “Get up here and lie on your back.”

He does it with no hesitation.

Seokjin lies on the counter, and you straddle him, facing the direction of his feet. His eyes can see nothing but dripping wet pussy, and he’s very eager to feast.

“Well, start cleaning handsome.”

You sit on his face, and Seokjin doesn’t waste any time.

He devours you like his favorite dessert. His arms hook beneath your thighs and he smothers himself with your cunt. You gasp at the feeling of his tongue entering your pussy.

Fuck.

Those lips feel as good as they look.

You’d love to sit here carefree until you squirt all over his face, but you have work to do. You unzip his pants and remove his cock from his boxers. You’ll give him credit; this is the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. And it feels so heavy in your hand. You can’t wait to choke on it.

Licking the tip a few times, you let your saliva drip all over it. Seokjin’s entire body goes stiff when you start to slowly take him into your mouth. The warmth envelopes his dick and his reflexes make him want to thrust into your throat. To your disappointment, he stops himself.

You come up for air, so you can speak.

“It’s okay. I like it,” you assure.

With your approval, he begins fucking your throat as soon as he’s buried inside your mouth again. Your head begins to spin as he satisfies both two holes at once. You can see why those women don’t care if they’re getting robbed. The man is talented, without a doubt.

It only takes a few minutes for Seokjin to have you a trembling mess above him, alternating between suckling your clit and shoving his tongue in your opening. You nearly lose the battle, but you conquer the moment Seokjin feels you swallow around his cock. He grips the table for support, but he’s unable to fight off the sensitivity. He twitches in your mouth, letting you know he won’t last much longer.

You hold down his thighs so he can’t squirm and deepthroat his cock without warning. Seokjin moans loudly into your center, wanting to call out your name, but he’s unable to stop tasting your nectar. The sloppiest of the act doesn’t faze you. You allow your spit and his arousal to seep onto the counter. You're not the one who has to clean it up.

“Come for me, baby,” he begs.

His tongue travels up your slit and pauses at your back entrance. Your eyes widen with shock. Even the queen could not have expected something so filthy coming from this beautiful man.

He chuckles and teases you for your reaction. “Don’t get shy now.”

Seokjin’s tongue circles your rim. Your brain works overtime to catch up with the moment.

Time seems to stop when your orgasm unexpectedly comes barging in. Your body goes into autopilot.

The moaning around his cock has the baker releasing loads of his cum in your mouth. You gag as it begins to fill your throat. You swallow as much as you can but use the rest as a lubricant to keep going, milking him until he’s crying from sensitivity.

“Baby, you have to—oh fuck!”

The poor guy probably didn’t even realize he was capable of coming again until another wave of pleasure went through him. He turns jelly beneath you, unable to move his body or conjure any thoughts. You grin looking at his spent figure lying there once you’ve hopped off of the counter.

“You okay, handsome?” you ask him, your hand gently stroking his thigh.

“I’m great, baby. Never better.”

You respond with a nod as you prepare yourself to leave, but the baker grabs your hand before you can take off.

“You aren’t staying?” His voice is so weak, and his eyes are heavy. Sleep is calling his name. “Don’t make me sleep alone. I want you close to me.”

You place kisses across his knuckles, pausing to look at him when you reach his thumb. The tired baker has finally given in to his exhaustion, and his eyes are now closed completely.

Careful not to wake him, you find his coat and throw it over his body before placing a kiss on his cheek.

Your red lipstick stains his skin; it’ll serve as a reminder that he was visited by the queen whenever he wakes up.

Before you depart, you walk over to his long list of orders and find out that many of them are to be gifted to the same person. It’s a name you’re familiar with because it’s on your list, written in bold.

A menacing smile creeps up on your face, and you grab the box of cookies before heading toward the door.

The freezing winter air is the first thing that greets you when you step out into the night, but to you, it’s the most pleasant feeling on earth.

You set out on your journey to the outskirts of town, off in the snowy hills, looking for the most handsome Grinch Heauxville has seen. He can weld and mend, but he can also destroy anything in his path.

With all those tools and those doe eyes, you’d think he’d be good at mending broken hearts. But instead, he’ll crush them into a million more pieces.

He’s mean, he’s angry, and he’s heartless, but he’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget what kind of monster he is. He’ll ruin your life, just like they ruined his. And there’s nothing you can do but get on your knees and say thank you.

“Oh, Mr. Jeon… I can’t wait to melt that icy heart of yours. And when I’m done, it’s going to be all mine.”

#seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin smut #btsdreamcourt #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #kvanity #bts fanfics #bts imagines #seokjin fanfics #fic: unholy night #sugakookitty

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transfem-goddess-temple · 24 days

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The pinned post says that people who identify as men are welcome, but that they shouldn't 'be weird to you', and I am curious what forms of engagement with the blog would be considered 'being weird to you' and which would not? For full context, I think the blog is neat and that it might be fun to send a smutty ask, but I consider myself a man, and I do not wish to cross boundaries. I'm also aegosexual (asexual but I think the concept of sex in fiction is neat), so it'd definitely be 100% a roleplay thing on all fronts if I did send an ask, but I understand if that would still be off-putting.

I hope your day has been pleasant! - A silly little guyTM

Hey! That’s a great question, I should probably outline that more in my intro. I guess it comes down to three things:

1. I’ve seen a lot of places (blogs, discords, etc.) where men (typically cis men) come in and try to sort of ‘take over’ for the woman who’s in charge. In this case, that would mean something like sending me asks that objectify me, paint me as a lower status than them, and try to institute themselves as the ‘God’ to my Goddess. While Doms are welcome, and I certainly enjoy being dominated occasionally, this is going too far and undermines my role as the creator and moderator of this space.

2. Sort of as an offshoot of part one, I don’t want any toxic masculinity in this area for ANYONE. I don’t deserve to be bombarded with a bunch of guys trying to get with me because they’re ‘alpha’ or whatever, and neither does the rest of my community who came here feeling safe with expressing their sexuality. Toxic masculinity, including patriarchal views, incel behavior, misogyny, and self righteousness, are rooted in the putting down of others, which we do not allow in my temple (unless that gets people off in a sexual scenario). HOWEVER: THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT MEN IN THIS BLOG CANNOT DOM. Men are free to dom those who are attracted to men in my chapel as long as everyone consents and the man is not acting like Andrew Tate.

3. It’s just an attraction thing. I’m into every gender identity to some level, but cis men are the lowest on the list for a few reasons, including the fact that I’m not the biggest fan of men with penises and the fact that I feel more comfortable expressing myself sexually around women and other trans people. This makes it harder for me to find sexual interest in cis men. Because of this, I put that stipulation in my intro to make clear my sexual preference and to make it so men aren’t popping up in my asks trying to tell me how they are going to dick me down.

Overall: the statement in the pinned post acts mostly as a ward for patriarchy guys so that they see I am not going to let them in. I understand that patriarchy stuff is a kink for some, and when it is used in that context it’s fine and consensual! However, I am trying to ward off people who view it less as a kink and more as real life. With that little warning, they kinda sneer and turn away because they know I’m not interested in their bullshit (or they get into my asks and call me stupid for not liking guys and I just delete it)

Men like you are dope. You’re asking for consent, clarification, and are making it clear that you respect me and the space that I am in. Feel free to send your ask, darling.

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kaleidoscopek9 · 1 year

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Dude talk about a mcfrickin coincidence regarding that last ask you got bc the same idea was buzzing in my mind tonight. But I imagined a Y/N that actively isn't a fan of their music at all.

Like, a friend of theirs has tickets to their concert but their date couldn't make it, so they plead for Y/N to join instead because they don't wanna go alone. They're pretty good tickets in the front too. Y/N joins purely because of the begging, as it's not really a scene they're accustomed to. They either don't know who the boys are and couldn't care less or just don't really care for their music because it's not within their usual tastes so they're truly a fish out of water at this concert. Naturally, everyone else is fawning over them as they perform, but this person just sits in the front seeming... unimpressed. The music okay, they're moreso happy their friend is having an amazing time, but as for themselves seems like they're just watching with no clear consensus to be read off their face waiting for time to pass. Then somewhere during the performance, either Sun or Moon locks eyes with them, and that's where things get interesting. The boys being curious about this blank attendee, maybe even trying to catch their attention and impress them a little as time goes on. (Could just be an ego thing, there must be lots of people who don't like their music, but this person simply seeming absolutely neutral? Why did they even come? Could they cause a reaction out of this stoic person to get a kick out of it?) Y/N seeming moreso curious about them as a stage presence now, the way they move around, seemingly having caught a glimpse of them in the crowd and inviting them to play. It becoming kind of a cat and mouse game by throwing glances towards each other, trying to make it hard for the other side to read their thoughts and calculate the next move.

Maybe they even get up to shenanigans trying to get this person up on the stage to see what they're about with this attitude. Maybe if they get to meet somehow, turns out they dislike their music because they're actually skilled in a totally different genre. (Cello bitches arise) Them being able to get closer due to challenging each other (artistically), Y/N learning to open up with these bots in a scene that's totally foreign and vulnerable to them?

Idk where I was even headed with this but. Yeah. This been running around in my brain like a hamster in a wheel with no direction. Sorry that it's long lmao 🥲

I think I got an ask super similar to this! It was like, y/n wasn’t a fan of their music but gets dragged to a concert by a friend who is a die-hard fan, and they end up slowly warming up to the punks over time and getting to know them on more of a personal level.

ALSO I love that “cat and mouse” idea, lmao. Like a silent game the three of them are playing that no one else picks up on.

Them noticing that this ONE PERSON in the FRONT ROW seems to be super unimpressed by their performance and looks like they’d rather be anywhere else? The two of them would totally pick up on it and try their darndest to get some kind of reaction out of this person during the show. You can bet that Moon would 100% throw a few winks & smarmy grins their way as an attempt.

#LOVING THE CELLO IDEA TOO #like #y/n is more of a classical music fan and wants nothing to do with the punk music genre #but over time their music taste & the punk’s ends up rubbing off on one another #like I can totally see sunny becoming a big fan of the trumpet #even if he wouldn’t be able to play it lmao #and I can see moon wanting to pick up the violin or cello since it’s another stringed instrument #and in return y/n starts getting into the boy’s music and exploring other punk band’s content #love love love this #punk! sun & moon #ask k9 #long post

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asylos · 1 year

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Darkest Desires - Interview with Author Alessa Hale

Miri: Hello friends! Today on the blog we have a good friend of mine, Alessa Hale. Alessa is releasing her first published novel on February 17th, 2023 with Skye High Publishing and I for one, am very happy to see it coming out. As an ace who loves to read the kinky, dark side of things, Alessa has long been a provider of my guilty pleasure reads, though I’m trying to stop using that term, as we should not feel guilty about our pleasure.

To start out, why don’t you hit us with the good old “back of the book” blurb? What is Darkest Desires?

Alessa: Darkest Desires is a dark, kink-heavy erotic romance, featuring a MMF (Miri note: that’s male-male-female for those who aren’t familiar with the short form) polyamorous triad. Oh, and the two male leads are demons.

Elias and Caelan are the gorgeous rockstar duo behind Goëtica, a concept band where they play the role of otherworldly, demonic creatures. Except it’s far more than an act. Shannon runs into them after a concert and learns the truth about them; they are demons. They’re powerful, terrifying, dangerous, and irresistible, all in equal measure. One thing leads to another, and they end up spending the night together.

What starts out as a rockstar-and-groupie style one night stand soon becomes much more, as Shannon learns more about them, their stories, and their rather dark inclinations in the bedroom.

Darkest Desires is very much a character driven story, focusing tightly on their interactions and burgeoning relationship. Anticipate something more like a dark, fucked up slice of life… if your life involved two demon boyfriends of highly questionable morals and a lot of spicy, kinky sex.

Miri: Demons?

Alessa: In a manner of speaking. The boys are demons, but they are also trapped on our plane of existence and in human forms now. They weren’t too happy about that.

They still retain a fair bit of their power and a few not-so-human features (no spicy demon peen, though–perhaps a missed opportunity on my part!) but mostly they’re just minding their own business and trying to make the best of their circumstances. By starting a band, because what else would you do if you were a demon stuck masquerading as a human.

That leaves the setting of the story more or less contemporary, but with a paranormal twist and just a sprinkling of demon metaphysics to make life more exciting.

Miri: This is a kinky book, and you’ve kindly posted the list of kinks and content warnings as well (links). Was it important to you to make these contents clear to the audience?

Alessa: Definitely. I come from a fandom background where tagging your work is a common courtesy, plus I’m a big believer in “your kink is not my kink and that’s okay”. There are absolutely kinks in the book that are not going to be to everyone’s taste, or could even be triggering for some.

A lot of BDSM themes are present throughout – fully consensual, enthusiastic, and negotiated – but some of the kinks involved are considered taboo or fringe even within BDSM spheres. Specifically, there is a heavy emphasis on knife play and blood play. These have a significant part in the story, such as an entire scene that is primarily focused on knife play, so it’s not really something that can be glossed over.

It’s definitely something people should be aware of beforehand, so they can make an informed decision as to whether the story is right for them. That said… if you’re on the fence but curious, give it a try. I have been told I’ve introduced people to kinks they never knew they had on a fairly regular basis. 😉

Miri: That you have, that you have! I certainly have… learned a few things about myself over the years. :D

Your Instagram (over here) features one of the locations that makes an appearance in the book, a restaurant the characters have a date at. The photo is of a most delicious looking dessert and I just have to know what it was.

Alessa: It was so good it even got an honorary inclusion in the book! That is a white chocolate bread pudding, from a restaurant called The Perch in L.A. (The restaurant itself isn’t named in the story, but now you know the secret.)

Miri: Ooh. That does sound as good as it looks. Folx in the L.A. area, if you can get out there and try it, snag your own pictures! You don’t have to take a demonic date with you, but if you have the chance, well, you know I won’t judge.

Alright this is one of those questions I hit every writer with: pantser or plotter? (Or as some people like to phrase it, Gardener or architect?) Or that magical in between? Plantser? Garditech? (Who knows what bonkers words we’ll come up with next.)

Alessa: Pantser, absolutely 100%. Even gardener sounds a little too refined for my process! This wasn’t intended to be a novel originally – it started out life as a short one-shot story, which was just their initial meeting and a one night stand. But I loved the characters so much, I loved their dynamic so much, and there was so much potential left open, I ended up coming back to it again and again. More parts were added as and when the ideas came… and then I eventually realised I had written enough to count as an entire novel. Some heavy streamlining and polishing later, and here we are.

Miri: Isn’t that just the way of it. Those pesky characters rarely do what we expect them to. You sit down for a quick 1k, and next thing you know… years of your life gone.

I know, I know, I’m asking you to pick a favourite child here, but do you have a favourite moment in the book - not necessarily a favourite scene as it turned out, but one that was the most fun to write? (Fun doesn’t always mean the easiest, of course.)

Alessa: That first section, the original short story it started life as, will always be the most special thing to me. It’s far more than just one moment, of course—I think chapter 2 to 5 cover what was initially the self-contained one shot. But that was the most fun I’ve had writing anything in… ever.

It was 3am in the coffee shop around the block, typing feverishly away at my laptop because I’d rather be writing it than sleep. Notebooks in every bag, scribbling on the bus, in checkout lines, any single second I could get. The inspiration, flow, and sheer joy of writing it was an as-of-yet completely unparalleled experience. I adored that thing.

For a little more of a specific moment, perhaps some of more amusing dialogue. During the editing process, I reread a line that I had entirely forgotten I’d written, and it caught me off guard and made me snort-laugh in a most inelegant manner. Of course, maybe I just have a terrible sense of humour...

Miri: Where can folx find out more about you, the book, and pre-order it? I hear there’s a sign up for ARCs (that’s advanced reader copies) as well? I know I’ve signed up so I can get an early review for the blog.

Alessa: Absolutely! Anyone who signs up can get a free electronic copy (Kindle or ePub) of the book. The publisher will be distributing these around two weeks before the release date. If you read it and enjoy it, an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads would be greatly appreciated, but there’s definitely no pressure.

Instagram is the best place to keep up to date with promotions and release information. I also have an author site with a full blurb and all the links you could possibly need, as well as some fun extras like character bios and a secret playlist.

Socials: Instagram, Twitter

Preorder at Amazon *The book will be available on Kindle Unlimited from February 17th.

Add to your Want to Read at Goodreads!

ARC Sign Up Form - Sign up by January 31st to make sure you are on the list!

Miri: One thing that I have always felt has come across in your writing (and folx, trust me, I have devoured a lot over the years) is your passion. You care about your characters, and their interactions. And I think that’s something that helps your work stand out from the crowd. There’s a lot of books out there to pick from, and I hope folx will give this one a read if it’s up their alley!

Well folx, that wraps up this preview interview, as I’d like to get it out in time for you to have a chance to sign up for an ARC or Preorder the book. I’ll be back again with my review once I’ve had a chance to read it!

#my website has imploded #so posting here until that is working again #book announcement #author interview

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PARINGS: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

CW: yandere, stalking, rape/noncon, pain kink, pain play, mild scent kink, home invasion, gags, restraints, virginity kink, scumbag aizawa, pet play, humiliation, cum stuffing, fingerings, snowballing, voice kink

SYNOPSIS: You have been calling the same phone sex operator for months, creating stalker and CNC fantasies. What happens when he rings true to his words?

AN: this is very dark, be warned! just had to make a fic out of the little idea I had <3

It’s always you who requests him. He can tell you're a virgin, the way your voice wavers when you feel like responding to him. Sometimes you don’t, letting your breathy moans do the talking for you.

“Good little girl.”

“Getting off to a phone call from your stalker? What a whore.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

”Do you like that, pretty little kitty?”

He never had a knack for giving nicknames, but he had to make it known that he remembers you. Remembers that voice. Hopefully, he’ll be able to remember your body one day.

Tracking you down was easy enough; you didn't bother to block your number and public records was just calling his name. God did he love untouched girls like yourself. So wet and pliant, so easily manipulated, so naive to believe everyone had good intentions.

Cameras were placed around your house so he could watch you when he couldn't hear you. If it was a stalker you wanted, he was going to give it to you.

You called often and asked for him always—such an obedient girl. The live feed from your bedroom streamed in front of him whenever you rang, but he was tired of playing games this week.

“Just look at the way you’re kneading yourself; you like to tease yourself. Don't you, kitty?”

Your breath hitched, but he knew it wasn't from pleasure. Looking around, he chuckled at your confused expression.

“You got a real cute face, you know that kitty? I can't wait to fuck it one day.”

Be rational, you told yourself. Its all part of the fantasy, right? He can’t actually see you.

“That’s a cute bed spread you got there, I didn’t take you for the type who liked lilies. You always keep roses in your kitchen vase.”

Okay, he was definitely listening to you now.

“Say, you live on 14th Street, don't you? Why don't I come down and give you an in person session?”

“What do you say, kitty? Or should I just break in like I always tell you I would?”

The phone hung up after that comment. Sure, you were up to the fantasy of being stalked and raped; that’s why you called him. It was too embarrassing to tell a partner your fantasies, not like you had one. Or roommates for that matter.

His voice is what soothed you after a hard day, but now it kept ringing in your ears. Listening to his breathy chuckles sent shivers down your spine, but you never expected to feel them there.

Three raps came from your bedroom door before it opened. You were buried in your sheets, hopelessly, desperately attempting to be asleep. Like that would stop him.

“I know you're awake.”

An “ah” of realization came from him.

“Unless you sleeping peacefully is part of the fantasy. This is new, but I can indulge you in that kitty.”

The bed dipped and creaked with his weight, fear sinking into your heart further as a hand smoothed itself over your shoulders.

“So tense.” He tutted. “I’ve got something that can help you relax.”

His tongue lapped at the outer shell of your ear; arm slung over your blanketed body.

“Such a naughty girl. Tell me, how many times did you get off to the sound of my voice telling you I was going to take your virginity by force.”

A hand snaked its way up to your throat, squeezing gently enough not to cause pain but enough to cut off part of your air.

“Tell me you want me to rape you, here and now. Or I’ll take you out to the alley and make a display of it.”

His voice barely reached above of a whisper the entire time, the same soft sound he used over the phone. Hot breaths tickled your ear and neck as you squirmed, gasping at straws for air.

“I promise to be gentle; I know you like a tender man who takes what he wants.”

Your throat restricted even more under the hand to the point where you felt light-headed.

“Please!” You gasped, using your nails to scratch at his wrapped fingers. The pressure withdrew.

“Please what, kitty? C’mon, you can do it.”

“P-Please rape me.”

A sharp laugh came from behind you.

“Is that any way to address me? I thought we were using special nicknames here.”

He let you have your moment, apparently amused to see you choke for air as he stroked your back.

“Please rape me...sir.”

“Atta girl.”

The hand made its way back to your throat, only resting there as the thumb stroked over your tender flesh. The other one snuck under the blanket and groped at your chest.

“You're a virgin, aren't you, kitty? Don't worry; your owner is going to talk you through it. Nice and slow so you feel everything I'm giving you.”

Fingers wiggled their way under your bra and began pinching at your nipples, tugging and pulling at the hardening nubs.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you up. You'll get your treat soon enough, kitty.”

You yelped after a particularly rough tug, tears springing in your eyes. His one hand managed to rip your bra apart, giving better access to his perverted fingers.

“I know you like it, the way I knead your pretty little breasts. Come, take your clothes off. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Everything came off before he instructed you to stand at the edge of the bed for him. He circled you like a predator, making inspections.

“I have to make sure my kitty is well-groomed and taking care of herself.”

The weight of his hot breath on your skin weighed down on you, pulling you further under his spell. He lifted your arms and smelled your scent.

“Lavender deodorant? What a shame; I wished I could have smelled your natural musk.”

Humiliation flushed your face hot. Disgusting pervert, it seemed he was into everything as long as it wasn't consensual.

“Sit down on the bed, legs spread.”

The baritone of his voice shook you to your core, but not in the pleasurable way you're used to.

“Don't make me ask twice, pet.”

His command was hard to ignore after following them for such a long time; it was practically instinctual to do as you were told. Shaking legs spread as you turned your head to the side. Another tut rolled off his tongue as he gripped your cheeks with one hand.

“Don't turn away from me. I want to see the look in yours when I take you and make you mine.”

You hadn't even realized before that he had brought a bag with him. From it, he took a bar spreader, rope, and a spider gag, all of which he put on you. The gag made your mouth uncomfortably wide, leaving nothing to his imagination.

Rough fingers pull you tongue from your mouth, his own coming down to lick at before spitting down the back of your throat.

“Swallow.”

You did.

“Good kitty.”

The name didn't comfort you anymore. Nothing about him comforted you anymore. Not his voice, not his nickname, and certainly not his breath, which you felt like was burning all over your body.

“I’m going to be nice and leave your throat alone today. However, if I give you a treat, you will swallow it. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded, terrified at the notion that he intended to come back after tonight. Crouching down in front of you, he inspected your wet pussy before spitting on it as well. Gingerly moving your lips, he circled your tight hole and stood up.

“That should do.”

Watching him undress himself seemed to make time move slower, knowing that he was about to take your virginity within minutes. His hard cock sprung out from his boxers and hit his happy trail, bobbing slightly against his abs. Not only was this man toned, but he was also huge.

“In we go, kitty.”

Not even taking the courtesy to gather some slick from you, he pushed in, taking his sweet time as he locked eyes with you. He went agonizing slow, grinning as you wailed in pain.

“Hurts, doesn't it? Let's see how painful we can make this.”

You were hardly prepped, only having wetness left behind from your previous phone call. It stung, and it stung bad. Your eyes wept as you looked up at him with a pleading gaze, hoping he would take mercy on you. He did no such thing, pinching your clit between his fingers and rolling it with intense pressure. Moaning, he watched as you convulsed and twitched in pain beneath him.

“Being such a good girl for me, kitty.”

Another glob of spit landed in the back of your throat, making you gasp and choke on your sobs. He loved that you were an ugly, messy crier. It only served to make his dick harder.

Once he bottomed out, he stayed there for a while, letting you feel the fullness of his thick cock.

“The name’s Shouta, by the way. I'm sure you must have been curious.”

He spoke so casually, so calmly. It made you furious how collected he was while you were a whimpering, sniffling mess.

“Don't worry; we’ll have all the time in the world once we’re done to get to know me.”

Goddamn, that voice. That hypnotizing, nauseating voice. It's the reason you're stuck here underneath a fucking phone sex operator that turned out to be your stalker. What a mess.

A tap to the temple pulled you back to the present.

“Keep your focus here, kitty.”

Hips drew back and snapped into you, not letting you take a moment to adjust as he set a brutal speed.

Oh, how you wished you could leave your body, but if anything, your senses were all the more enhanced, taking in every last drop of your surroundings. The sounds of the bed creaking under his pounding, his grunts and breaths, the skin slapping against skin, your own cries of misery. The feeling of his breath, how your once silk sheets now felt like sandpaper across your skin, the metal of your binds, and the burn of your rope. Everything and nothing all at once.

The minutes seemed to draw themselves out into hours as he continued his assault. He, or Shouta, you supposed, wasn't lasting very long. It didn't suit him; he seemed like a man of stamina. Maybe it was because he played out a sick fantasy of his that made him cum in minutes.

Unprotected, he came deep inside you before sliding out, giving your pussy a slap as he made his exit.

“Such a tight little kitty you've got there.”

Fingers at the ready, he stuffed his cum back inside you, toying with your clit all the while. He was quick to make you cum, making you see stars at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Don’t worry; I'll make you cum on my cock next time. I have plenty of games planned for us when I take you home.”

Pulling his fingers out, he pushed them down your throat to clean them before getting up and dressed again. He left you there, tied up and gone without a word.

In reality, he was just getting his car ready for you, but who was he to deny himself the pleasure of seeing your panicked face when he came back?

You were going to make a fine pet for him.

#yandere shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #tw: noncon #tw stalking #yandere x reader #yandere

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

Text

Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #x reader #my writing #mywriting #nsft #exophilia #terato #monsterfucker #xyou #smut #kinktober

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cpn-hydra · 3 years

Text

All for You - Part Two

Synopsis: You’d hidden under the radar for so long, but not even suppressants could hide your omega scent from two super soldier alphas.

Pairings: Dark!Alpha!Steve x Omega!f!Reader x Dark!Alpha!Bucky

Word count: 5,867

Warnings: only read if you are 18+, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable, non-con situations, kidnapping, this a dark fic so Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Specific Warnings: non-consensual drug use, non-consensual medical situations

Steve caught you a moment before you hit the ground, cradling your head in his palm. Bucky rushed over in panic, having seen your eyes roll into the back of your head before your knees gave out. He tapped your cheek a couple of times in attempt to get you to stir but your body was limp beneath him and your eyes sealed shut.

“Christ Steve, what did you do?”

Steve shot Bucky an accusatory look. “What did I do, punk?”

“Yeah, punk,” Bucky bit back, blaming him for their omega passing out.

“Hey guys,” Bruce interrupted, “Lemme check her over.”

Bucky was reluctant to let the beta get close but did so anyway, backing off slightly as Bruce checked you over. You were out cold. Your skin was cold and clammy and had lost its usual healthy glow. “She must be ill,” he surmised, “or perhaps it could be shock from her new situation.”

“She hasn't dropped?” Bucky frowned.

Bruce shook his head, tucking his glasses back into his pocket but his intelligent eyes still focused on your face. “I don't think so. From what I know of omegas, when they drop they go into a heightened state of alertness. Passing out doesn't really help them. Though if she hasn't dropped from this then I'm concerned about what she's been through in the past.”

“So what do you recommend now?” Steve asked nervously.

Bruce leant back on his heels. “Well, physical ailments aren't really my speciality, especially with omegas. You should take her to a doctor but for now I suggest you wake her up and get some food in her.”

“Yeah? What do you think, Steve?” Bucky asked, scooping you up in his arms and taking you to the sofa. He placed you down and cleared your hair from your face. He looked up and saw that everyone was watching with varying degrees of worry, Tony seeming to be the least bothered of all. Peter, on the other hand, had nearly fainted with you the moment you had collapsed.

“Let's wake her. She needs to eat,” Steve said, taking the lead as he generally did. “Wanda, could you?”

Wanda nodded, kneeling before you and conjuring red mist between her fingers. It wrapped around your face, seeping into your skin and bringing you back to consciousness.

You awoke slowly, eyes fluttering open to be pierced by blindingly bright light from above. You felt sicker than you had before. “You couldn't even let me stay asleep,” you groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face. Your wrists were seized and you were pulled up to sitting like a ragdoll, your head lolling to one side sleepily.

“Alright there, 'mega?” Bucky's voice sounded from beside you.

“No,” you groaned, vision swimming.

He chuckled. “She's fine,” he said to someone you could not see before scooping your still groggy body up in his arms. “We gotta get some food in you before you pass out again.” He sat you down at the table, thankfully with your back to the huge window, though it didn't abet your fears of falling from the building.

“That's not the only thing I need,” you muttered spitefully, trying to right yourself in the chair. You set your elbows on the table and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes.

There was movement around you, and you only looked up when a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling your hand back down to the table. You met Steve's cold eyes, out of place compared to the warmth of his expression.

You sighed, setting your other wrist on the table and looking at your company. They'd been talking to each other quietly, casting curious glances at you when they thought you weren't looking. You tried to find someone to direct your anger at that wasn't Steve or Bucky, but half of them were far too intimidating.

Peter Parker however had been staring at you since he sat down across the table from you. He positively reeked of omega pheromones. “What are you staring at, traitor?” you bit. Traitor he was indeed, at least to you. No omega should stand by and watch as another omega was mistreated, government conditioning withstanding. Furthermore you knew that Peter Parker was a special case. One of the only omegas who got a free pass, who got to live without constant interference from omega councils to make sure they were 'happy and well.' Everyone had seemed to agree that Peter Parker didn't need an alpha, that he didn't need protecting. After all, he was one of Earth's heroes. So you felt perfectly valid in your accusations of him, knowing that he had done nothing with his position to help omegas like you.

“Doll, that ain't very nice,” Bucky admonished as a he put a full plate of steaming food on the table in front of you. For a moment you ignored the rising sickness in your throat in favour of continuing to glare at Peter, who was fidgeting uncomfortably under your stare.

Tony Stark, who you had read was somewhat of a father figure to Peter, chuckled. “Don't think she likes you, kiddo.”

“Yeah I can see that Tony,” Peter grumbled, breaking away from your gaze and leaning into his arms on the table. His cheeks were red.

Bucky continued to hand out food to everyone around the table. You weren't quite sure why he needed to kidnap a housewife when he practically was one himself.

“Stop staring, precious, you're making him uncomfortable,” Steve said from beside you, hand reaching out to massage your shoulders. Instinctively you cringed away from his touch. There was a tense moment as you met his eyes, conveying all your hatred, anger and fear in one vengeful glare. He met your eyes with equal ferocity, a stern and patronising gaze challenging you to stand down. You didn't dare blink, no matter how badly your eyes burned.

Eventually it became too much and you turned your glare back on Peter who could not handle your intimidation tactics very well.

Tony, exasperated, clicked his fingers in front of Peter's face. “Hey omega, eyes over here. Capsicle, can't you control her?”

Steve clenched his jaw, fingers digging into your back now, masked as comforting. “Watch your tone, Tony. She's my omega to tame, not yours.”

You bristled at the possessive wording.

Bucky sat down on the seat to your right, “Our omega,” he corrected his mate.

“That's right, ours.” Steve punctuated his wording by caressing his fingers over the curve of your neck, right where an alpha's mark would go.

Your eye twitched.

Bucky sensed your growing anger, catching sight of the loss of focus in your eyes and the way your breath was starting to come out in short breaths through your nose, and distracted you by reminding you of the food in front of you.

Eating was a feat for you. You had to battle your nausea and the trembling of your extremities just to get the food into your mouth. After a few mouthfuls the nausea and wooziness began to dissipate but as time wore on you could feel the withdrawals worsening.

You took the time whilst you were eating to observe the rest of the people around the table. Wanda seemed keen to get to know you. She kept asking questions about where you'd come from, what it was like to be an omega, what your favourite food was, many of which Steve and Bucky shut down almost as soon as you opened your mouth to answer.

“Is this your first time living with an alpha?” she had asked.

You'd scoffed. “If by living you mean as a captive-”

“Omega, no.”

You'd sighed, slumping back in your chair. “Well either way, no.”

There'd been a stunned silence after that.

“Not very good saviours if you didn't do your research,” you looked at Steve and smirked, bringing your drink to your lips.

Thor was also very interested in you. “On Asgard we treat our omegas like queens,” he told you. “Expect nothing less from Bucky and Steve. You let me know if they don't treat you like you deserve.”

“Doesn't kidnapping count as less than I deserve?” you retorted, fed up and coming close to a breakdown. Still, you refused to give up. You had faith that Steve or Bucky wouldn't pounce on you whilst in company.

Bucky didn't pounce on you, but he may as well have. His hand moved to your back, this time holding you by the neck and putting pressure on the sides of your throat. You seized up immediately, craning your neck to try and get him off of you. Your body went into fight or flight mode. “We've been through this, doll. We rescued you,” then he leaned in close so that no one but Steve would hear, “Say we kidnapped you one more time and I'll take you into the bedroom and give you your first punishment, then you can finish your dinner.”

You bit your tongue after that, cheeks burning red. You met Peter's eyes again and this time he looked at least somewhat sorry for you.

You didn't speak to Natasha until after the meal when she offered to help you take the plates into the kitchen. You furrowed your eyebrows, ready to sneer at them all for making it your responsibility to clear up a meal you didn't even want, but you weren't going to refuse the Russian ex-assassin. In part because she greatly intimidated you, in part because in your days of living on the street you had come to admire her.

Natasha didn't appear to treat you any different than she did the rest of them. Some of the Avengers were known for being quite vocal about their opinions of omegas, their admonishments of omega rights groups, and Natasha was not one of them. While you didn't speak much to her, there already seemed to be some feeling of female solidarity with her, but you knew that she would not stand up for you. If she had been that sort of person, she would not have been in association with Steve, Bucky or Tony.

When the dishwasher had been loaded, much to your dismay, Steve arrived to escort you back to Bucky. “Come on sweetheart, we're going to play Clue. Should help you settle in.” His palms were placed on your arms as he walked behind you, shuffling you forwards towards Bucky and, behind him, the vast expanse of the sky. It made you feel queasy again.

Bucky was sitting where you had been before the meal, your cocoon of blankets beside him waiting for you to come back. You met the warmth of Bucky's smile with a hard glare. When Steve sat you down into your pile of blankets Bucky's arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could move away and Steve sat on your left side. Your thighs were touching both of theirs. Your breath caught in your chest and tears, angry or sad, stung your eyes.

You were on a team with Steve and Bucky. Minutes of playing passed by without much input from you, it was as if your not being there wouldn't have made a difference. You could barely even hear the laughter and the indignant shouts of one argument or another over the volume of your own thoughts.

What was your friend Cassidy thinking now? Did she know you'd been taken, had she told anyone? If so, what response did she get? Did the police tell her not to worry, your friend is in good hands now? How on earth were you to get out of this? Your heat would be coming up soon and while they could mark you before a heat, a bond wouldn't be made permanent until it was remade in a heat.

With your previous alpha, Alex, you'd started taking suppressants towards the end of your 'relationship.' Bonds couldn't be made when an omega was on suppressants so Alex hadn't let you even consider it. He wasn't able to mark you before you started suppressants though, every time his lips went anywhere near your neck you would lash out at him. Sometimes you would become violent, sometimes you would burst out in tears. Whatever it took to keep him from marking you, either way he would stop what he was doing immediately to comfort you or calm you down.

Alex knew that you were vehemently against being marked, that what for some people was a sign of love to you was like an anchor weighing you down. After a while he'd grown tired of your resistance. Alex wanted the perfect nuclear family. A sweet omega wife and two well-behaved, red-cheeked little children. He was never able to accept that you would not be the omega he wanted. He'd marked you one night right as you drifted off to sleep and before he could wake the next morning, you'd been on a rampant search for suppressants. Once you were on them, you wouldn't have a heat for him to make the mark permanent in.

It had been difficult but eventually you'd managed to slip away from him. When Alex had discovered you were on suppressants he had practically torn apart the house to find them and had cut off your access to your shared bank. Not that it mattered, you had a stash of cash and suppressants hidden where he couldn't find it. After a few weeks he became more distant, spending more time with his friends drinking than with you. Every night he'd come to you, begging you to stop taking the suppressants, but it was no use. You'd never truly wanted him in the first place.

You fled from the house one night, stole his car and moved states. His mark faded quickly and you hadn't heard from him since. Now that Bucky and Steve were getting involved and you technically had an alpha already, your past with Alex was bound to brought to the present. He'd be informed of your whereabouts and perhaps he'd put up a fight to get you back – and in truth you would rather be with him than with Steve and Bucky – but the jury wouldn't be on his side. How can an alpha care for his omega when he'd let her go missing? Much better to let the superheroes take her in.

For the umpteenth time that night, you were hit with a massive pang of grief, mourning your loss of autonomy. You were truly on your way to rock bottom, forced down by the mountains of people above you telling you that suppression of omegas was the natural order of things and that you should be grateful to be cared for.

You weren't paying attention to the game so when Bucky turned to you and asked you what the next move should be you blinked at him with heavy eyes. It had been a long day. “I want to go to sleep,” you told him quietly.

Bucky's lips curved upwards at your quiet request, happy that you weren't fighting him. “Just hang on a few more minutes doll, then we'll get you into bed.”

Sinking into your blanket you nodded, not having the energy for another fight. You wanted to so badly but the drugs they'd used to knock you out were still lingering in your system and made worse by the interaction with your suppressants, your withdrawals were making you feel progressively more worn down, every time you looked out the window you had to resist the urge to throw up, you were absolutely terrified and you were so, so angry. You didn't have it in you to stay awake any longer. You would fight them in the morning, for now you just wanted to go to sleep and pretend that you were still in your bed at home.

It was for these reasons that you didn't make it to bed, instead you passed out on Bucky's shoulder.

“You've got your work cut out for you, boys,” Natasha said quietly once she'd noticed your state of unconsciousness. “Just give her time, and a little bit of space every now and then.”

Steve frowned at the red-haired Avenger. “I thought you were against this,” he said to her, eyes questioning.

“I am,” Natasha admitted, “but I can see how devoted the two of you are already. I'm not going to try and stop you. You're a good friend to me, Steve.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other with smiles of relief. When they'd told Nat about the omega they'd 'rescued,' she'd chewed their ears off down the phone. They were glad to not have her against them anymore. “Thank you Nat,” Steve told her sincerely. Nat half-smiled in return.

Bucky stood, gathering you, wrapped up in your blankets, in his arms. “I'll get her in bed, probably stay with her for a bit. Good game, guys,” he then looked to Steve, “I'll book an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow morning. That good?” Steve nodded and kissed you on the forehead to say goodnight.

***

The waiting room was cold and clinical. Even sandwiched between two super-soldier alphas who exuded body heat at all times, you were almost shivering. Perhaps it wasn't the cold but the fear of what you might face in the doctors' office, of the memories that would be brought back. Your foot was tapping against the linoleum floor and you were hyper aware of every sound around you. At least you were back on solid ground, there was a blessing in that at least.

This morning had been difficult. You'd woken to find that you were face to face with Bucky and Steve's crotch was pressing up against you from behind. You'd gone back to fighting them immediately and they had to wrangle you to get you to the doctors, realising they'd made a big mistake in telling you where they were going. You'd only paused your fighting when Steve snaked a large, capable hand behind the back of your neck and gripped your hair at the roots not tightly but firmly and told you in no uncertain terms the sort of punishment you'd get if you didn't get in the car.

When the doctor eventually poked his head into the hallway and called your name, you were so caught up in your thoughts that Steve had to wrap his palm around your bicep to get you moving. Walking down that oppressive hallway, you felt as if you were driven by a motor, not moving of your own will. Only when you were sat in front of the doctor did you come back to yourself.

He introduced himself to the three of you as Doctor Jenkins and immediately you were put off by the way he spoke to you. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose so it felt like he was looking down on you with a condescending expression. He ran through some basic questions with you such as any allergies or past medical conditions, all of which you said no to, until he came to the question that made your blood run cold.

“And are you on any form of birth control?”

In your peripheral vision you saw Bucky and Steve's heads turn to watch you. You sat there in contemplation, twisting the rings on your fingers and trying to decide if you should lie. You opened your mouth to say 'no' but then you were interrupted by Steve, who slung his arm over the back of your chair and said, “Tell the truth, sweetheart,” in that low alpha rumble that you had no choice but to obey.

“I got fitted with the coil about a year ago,” you admitted sullenly. Steve's hand tightened around the chair you were sitting on, dragging it across the floor towards him with an uncomfortable screech.

“And can you tell me the name of the doctor who administered the procedure?” Doctor Jenkins asked, noting it down on his computer.

Your eyes were beginning to water. You could see where this was going. “I, uh – it was in a different state.”

Doctor Jenkins looked at you with a stern expression. “Could you tell me the name of the Doctor's office?”

“It was – uh – um...” you could feel the weight of Bucky's stare boring down on you. Fuck. “Fine...I...I didn't get it done by a doctor.”

You could practically feel the disappointment rolling off of the three men in the room. You couldn't stand it, the way they looked at you as if you were a child who refused to brush their teeth or eat vegetables.

“And who did the procedure?”

You sighed, knowing where this would lead but seeing no way out of it. “My friend did it.”

“A female friend?”

Your gaze snapped to Bucky and your lip curled. “Yes, a female friend,” you spat at him with malice.

The doctor was looking at you condescendingly. You'd had many doctors in the past and only a handful of them who'd known you were an omega had treated you like an adult. This doctor was already by far one of the worst and least professional you'd come across.

Not even looking at you as he recorded what you said onto your file, he said, “So obviously for your own safety we will have to have that removed, and I presume you will be wanting a new one in place?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Bucky beat you to it, grasping your hand and squeezing. “Actually no, Doc. We don't want it messing with her hormones or fertility or anything like that.”

Doctor Jenkins nodded. “Of course, Mr Barnes.”

“You can't do that!” you cried, lurching forward in your seat. “I don't even want it removed. You don't get to make that decision.” You were met with silence from the three men as you looked between them for a response with wide, wild eyes. You looked back at the doctor. “I'm not having it removed,” you said, ripping your hand out of Bucky's, crossing your arms and slumping in your seat.

Steve cleared his throat. “Calm down, omega. We just want to make sure you're healthy. It's our job as your guardians.”

“You aren't even legally my alphas,” you retorted.

“Not formally, no, but right now it's been made that we're your temporary alphas until we can present to the judge with your paperwork,” he explained.

Your jaw hung open. “It's been a day!”

“It got approved yesterday, doll,” Bucky chimed in, “During dinner.”

You'd thought that you would have had way more time than that. Temporary alphas were rarely heard of, only in those instances when it was deemed that there was immediate cause for an omega's decisions to be handed over to someone else and only when the alpha in question was of unquestionable moral standing – or at least what the government deemed to be unquestionable. But who better and more moral than Captain America himself? You truly had never had a hope. Your only chance would have been to flee to country, anywhere where omegas weren't treated as children but as adults. How fitting that this country had Captain America, who you now knew to be delusional, as its mascot.

You closed your mouth. Your cheeks were burning and you were absolutely overwhelmed with the horrible feeling of utter helplessness.

Steve went behind the curtain with you as Bucky talked with the doctor. You reluctantly unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, staying in your top. “Your panties too, precious,” Steve reminded you gently when you were about to take the hospital gown from him. You scowled, snatching it out of his hands and clothing yourself, only parting with your underwear when you were fully covered.

Steve gathered your clothes up from the floor, a salacious smile on his face when he hooked your panties over his pinky.

You sat on the bed trying to fight the rising sadness inside you. Steve took your hands in his and stood before you. “I know you don't like decisions being made for you, precious, but I just want you to be happy and healthy. That can't happen within toxins and foreign objects in your body.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get your hands off of me.”

Doctor Jenkins pulled the curtain back and walked over to you. “All ready?” he asked, smiling at you. Bucky was watching you over Doctor Jenkins' shoulder.

You considered a sarcastic retort, something snarky that would make him at least feel guilty, but then you remembered that antagonising the man about to delve into your body with metal tools probably wasn't the smartest idea. So you just nodded meekly and rotated your body so that you were laying on the bed.

“Can you two at least stand by my head if you aren't going to go behind the curtain?” you snapped at the two alphas, seeing that Bucky had no intentions to move once you spread your legs for the doctor.

To your fortune, Bucky and Steve did as you asked.

“Will it hurt her, doc?” Bucky asked.

The doctor shrugged, arranging his tools on the tray at the end of the bed. “It varies from woman to woman. For some it can be mild discomfort, for others they can barely feel it. Though since her procedure was not done by a medical professional and I don't know if the IUD was placed correctly, I can't say there won't be pain.”

This wasn't worrying to you. It had hurt like a bitch going in, you assumed it would be bad coming out as well.

Bucky and Steve looked at each for a concerning moment. You caught their eyes and frowned. What were they planning?

“Do you think you could give her a sedative, just in case?” Bucky asked. His hand pushed down on your shoulder as you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows. “She's very delicate.”

“I am not having a sedative!” you cried out indignantly.

“Of course, Mr Barnes,” Doctor Jenkins said, ignoring you as he stood and crossed the room to one of the cupboards.

“No!” you shouted, “Jesus Christ! I am an adult, I can make my own decisions!”

You tried to push yourself up but Bucky's hand pushed you back down again, this time pinning you to the bed, and when Steve did the same to your other shoulder, rendering your upper body immobile.

The doctor reappeared beside you with a small syringe in his hand. “Now, this will make you feel a little bit drowsy but should help with any discomfort,” you were told. Furiously you kicked your legs out but the doctor was nevertheless able to, with Steve and Bucky's help, inject the sedative into your arm.

The two alphas held you down until your movements slowed a couple of minutes later and your head slumped back onto the pillow. The doctor moved back to the end of the bed and found no resistance when he parted your legs wide and propped your feet on the stirrups either side of his waist.

Angry tears streamed from your eyes. You were helpless against what was being done to you. You could see Steve and Bucky above you, could hear their words of praise and feel the warmth of their hands as they caressed you lovingly.

“It's okay, doll, your alphas are here.”

Thanks to the painkillers there was only a twinge of pain throughout the humiliating experience, though it was one of the most uncomfortable processes you had ever been through. It felt as if the doctor was reaching into your body and twisting your organs from the inside, as if he was trying to punish you for not getting it done by a medical professional the first time.

When it was done and your tears only just beginning to dry, Steve went with the doctor back to the desk as Bucky helped you back into your clothes. Your movements were sluggish and your thoughts slow and you cried at the loss of autonomy. When Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead, your skin burned painfully.

Back in the car, your head was resting against Bucky's shoulder as you recovered. It would be at least another twenty minutes before you fully came back to your senses. You barely even registered it when the car pulled up in front of a familiar building.

Steve didn't trust you to walk up all of those stairs by yourself so he held you all the way up to your apartment. Bucky and Steve didn't try to hide their distaste as they wandered around the room that housed your life. It wasn't much but over the past few years it had become your safe haven. Having them stomp around it was almost as upsetting as the knowledge that this would be your last time here.

“Tell us what we need to pack, doll,” Bucky said as he walked around your small apartment, opening and closing cabinets to try and find bags. You shrugged, finding your favourite blanket and wrapping it around your body. Most of what was important to you was on your laptop, everything else could be bought again so you weren't really bothered.

“Ideally nothing,” you said unhelpfully. Bucky's face fell.

“Come on, omega, you want stuff that smells like home. We can take all of your blankets and clothes. Whatever you want.” Steve said.

For the next twenty minutes you gave them vague direction as they wandered around, rummaging through your life. You sat yourself on the edge of your bed, waiting miserably for your strength to come back to you. As it did you became hyper-aware of your underwear chafing against your sore entrance, reminding you of how much rummaging around down there that the doctor ended up doing to find the strings of your IUD.

And then you felt the blood. Groaning in discomfort you pushed yourself up to your feet, ignoring the cramp in your abdomen and simply grateful that you could walk without falling over now. “Where you going, doll?” Bucky asked from across the room, a couple of your books in hand as he watched you with cautious eyes.

“To the bathroom, I'm bleeding thanks to you guys,” you replied, not even looking at him as you crossed the room still cocooned in your blanket.

“Okay doll, take all the time you need,” Bucky replied with a softer tone. Again you ignored him. When you shut the bathroom door behind you, he called out, “No locking that door!”

You were about to disobey him, aware of the knowledge that he would simply break the lock if you did, but your hand drifted away from the lock when you remembered what else was in this room.

You sat yourself down at the toilet, hissing at the burning sensation. Once you'd put a sanitary towel into your underwear and turned the tap on to wash your hands, you used the sound to cover up your tracks as you delved into your medicine cabinet.

Your heart leapt as you saw your suppressants sitting there, almost gleaming in the fluorescent lighting. They'd lied when they said they'd gotten rid of them. They'd clearly never even been in your apartment. Without even thinking you tore open the bottle and knocked two down your throat, using the water from the still running tap to wash it down. Frantically looking around for some way to hide them, you ended up stuffing the bottle with toilet paper in hopes that it would stop the remaining pills from rattling around and then shoving the bottle into your underwear as discretely as you could.

“All good?” Steve practically jumped you when you left the bathroom. You flinched slightly but kept your cool, nodding at him as politely as you could manage given your intense hatred of the man. When you stepped forwards and you swayed unsteadily, Steve quickly grabbed hold of your arm, stabilising you and guiding you to the sofa.

The bottle in your underwear chafed uncomfortably against you, rubbing against where you were already sore. The cramping you felt before intensified as you sat down but you held in a groan of discomfort. You wanted them to know how much pain you were in because of them, perhaps it would make them feel even a facsimile of guilt, but you refrained because you knew one of them would end up coddling you.

You settled into the cushions, wrapping your blanket tightly around your body and watching the pouring rain outside of the window, a perfect reflection of your mood.

“How much are you packing?” you asked Bucky as he stopped at the bookcase in front of you, somehow managing to pick out the only books you actually read. “I do actually like this place, I don't want to give it up.”

In truth your apartment was worth giving up. The building was particularly seedy, there were cracks in the ceiling and rats in the stairwell. The landlord was sketchy at best and your neighbours probably growing something in their bathrooms. But it was home.It was the first real place you'd ever had to call home, because it was yours. The omega centre had always felt more like a prison than a home, and at your previous alpha's house you were always walking around on egg-shells. Here was different. You didn't want to give up your snug book corner, or the bed you'd spent way too much on that smelled just how you wanted it to. This was home and Bucky and Steve were about to take it away from you.

“Well, it's not like we can move everything today. Plus we gotta find room for all your stuff at ours, but you won't be sleeping here anymore, doll,” Bucky told you softly as if he was worried that the news would break you.

But it was good news at least. Bucky's words meant that they weren't going to force you to sell your apartment yet, so you reckoned you had at least a week. Not that it mattered. If you escaped then this would probably be the first place that they looked.

You sighed heavily, earning Bucky and Steve's attention. “I hope you know that I hate you,” you told them sullenly, “and it's not some silly omega thing I'll get over. I hate you, the both of you, in every way that it is possible to hate.”

Steve stood before, hands on his hips as he looked down at you. Instead of getting angry, he smirked. “You're quite the omega, aren't you doll?”

You smiled wanly. “I'm really not, you just haven't encountered enough omegas. They're all as hateful as I am.”

***

Please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed!

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!stucky x reader #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark stucky x reader

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thebibliosphere · 3 years

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So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

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reclusiverisottonero · 2 years

Text

Best Friends with Melone HCs, gn!Reader

This is a continuation of an Anon request. You can find the first part here! It takes place in the same 'universe' where Reader is dating Prosciutto in the first post 😁

There is discussions of sexual health and kinks in this post. While I firmly believe discussion of sex ed is not inherently NSFW, the topic of sexual kinks is always NSFW and so this post will have the appropriate banner attached to it.

Other Warnings: Mentions of vomit, alcohol, piss kink in a joking context.

💜 You two are friends long before you ever met Prosciutto. Melone is actually the one that introduced you to him in the first place. He was constantly saying you and Pros would be perfect together, your star charts had some of the highest compatibility he’s ever seen! The rest is history, and Melone loves to tease you two about how you two wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for him. Prosciutto would prefer not to be reminded of that.

🍈 Melone is the friend you can text at like 2am if you’re drunk off your ass and need a ride home from the club (this is assuming he is also not drunk off his ass with you at said club, at least this time around). Granted it will be on his motorcycle and he might tie you to him so you don’t do anything stupid but hey, you’ll still get home! Don’t worry he’ll make sure none of your puke gets in your hair if you get nauseous from the ride.

💜 If you’re comfortable with it he wants to know ALL the details about your sex life (Don’t share about what you do with Prosciutto though no matter how curious Melone is!) and he’ll tell you the same about him. He’s the weird mom friend when it comes to sex and wants to be sure you’re being safe, sane and consensual. Always has condoms and a few lube packets on hand too. Hey don’t look at him like that, they’ve come in handy during missions! Should you not want to talk about those things Melone always stresses that you can go to him for anything without any judgments from him.

🍈 Says dumb gross shit just to see how people react. For example you get up to go to the bathroom and Melone just holds out his hands and says “Do it here queen,” and everyone is groaning but you’re unbothered because you know he’s fucking around with you. You think. Does he actually have a piss kink? You don’t know and he still dodges the question just to annoy you and the rest of La Squadra.

💜 Get back at Melone for being a freak by talking about the one holistic/alt medical practice he absolutely hates: healing crystals. You can just make shit up. Talk about how eating amethyst is great for curing digestion problems or that rose quartz helped improve your eyesight or whatever. Melone KNOWS you’re just fucking with him but it gets to him every time and its so fucking funny. He will practically start frothing at the mouth about how it’s all made up bullshit.

🍈 Melone’s the type to want to solve everyone’s problems so he’ll give lots of advice/feedback when he thinks it’ll be helpful. Whether it's good or not is...debatable. Be clear about when you just need to vent about something and need comfort, not help.

💜 Will text you deep fried cursed memes that only you two would understand. A good chunk of your text chat is nothing but a back and forth of cursed images that are usually sent between the hours of 2 and 5 am that no one is capable of deciphering. Prosciutto made the mistake of picking up your phone once to pass it over to you, and he glanced out of curiosity (he recognized the text alert sound as the one for Mel) and now he just refuses to be anywhere near it.

🍈 Listen to me, it doesn't matter how old you are, sometimes the best thing is just walking up to your bff and saying "Tiddies" and watching them laugh. Melone is shameless about how funny this is to him, with any similar words too. Dumb toilet humor can be cathartic with how stressful life is as a member of LS! He does the same thing to you but he can't get words out without laughing sometimes and then you're both just snickering dweebs.

#melone #melone x reader #melone jojo #melone jjba #jjba melone #ask #anonymous #my writing

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 166

Happy Tuesday! Time to see what the humans are in for...

If you’ve been here a while, you know that important information chapters are often accompanied by humor... Spoiler: this is that kind of chapter. I try to avoid just dumping unnecessary information, even if I have to call back to it much later to refresh memories.

Kudos to @baelpenrose, @quantumizedinsanity, and @charlylimph-blog for their help with this chapter, both in beta reading and in some absolutely off the wall humor and encouragement.

Special thanks this week goes to @et103, who spotted some broken links so that I could fix them. Much appreciated! I’m going to make sure to be more careful about that the next time I update links (which should hopefully be this weekend).

After we managed to reach out to everyone the guys were concerned about, the three of us were on a mission. While still on the call with Arthur and Alistair, Conor had egged them both on into ‘venting’ about our options for the pirates currently being held on Level One. This had carried over into other calls, getting a rather clear consensus that the preferred option was to trade information for a blind eye, but that we would ultimately put it up to a vote of the entire Ark. In the meantime, Maverick had managed to subtly ask Xiomara for a copy of the guidelines for our rights and expectations as a refugee species, and distributed chunks of it to Arthur, Charly, and Alistair, while making a roundabout request that Xiomara, Parvati, and I also take a look at the parts we were sent.

This was, undoubtedly, the most boring and equally most important part of all this.

Maverick and I were carefully reading through our parts of the regulations, but Conor had confessed about ten minutes into trying that he was still trying to make sense of the same sentence. As a result, he had instead volunteered to clear the glass-topped piece of furniture we used as a coffee table, whip up some pens to write on it with, and was serving as research assistant by looking up and sending us any other information we requested. Periodically, Maverick or I would finally parse a particular section, confirm with the other what it meant in layman's terms, and add it to our list.

“I found a fifth section explaining that we have a right to peaceful continued existence,” Maverick sighed. For want of a physical document to crumble up and throw, he bounced a rubber therapy ball off the bulkhead a few times. “This might be the section that the one a couple hours ago overruled, though, since this one specifically gives the right to defend ourselves en route, rather than providing a security escort.”

My eyes threatened to roll out of my head, but I added the detail to the list. “If they left it in there, there’s a reason, so I’m hanging on to that in case we need that tidbit.” I rolled my neck to loosen up the muscles. “I found an interesting one about a one-way blockade… If I’m right, it’s to keep other species out, not us in.”

He missed the ball when I flicked the passage over for confirmation, eyes widening. “This is a pretty minimal blockade, if you’re right. Tripwire sensors, sounds like, and… this signal reminds me of a radiation exclusion zone, not a restricted populace.” Shaking his head, he sent the passage to someone else. “I think we need Xiomara and Charly to confirm this one.”

Conor’s databand signalled an incoming message, and he glanced over it before flicking it to us. “Alistair sent this with the note that the Galaxy is discriminating against his ancestors?”

His confusion made complete sense - Alistair was from the last country on Earth to resist the Global Parliament, and also probably the least-sidelined nation in our planetary history. Curious, I read over the message and started chuckling when I got to Arthur’s footnotes. “This outlines our rights to maintain culture and traditions provided they do not infringe on the rights of other species. Specifically, we are not allowed to colonize pre-inhabited areas or commit genocide by intention, omission, negligence, or ignorance. Which Alistair’s ancestors were admittedly pretty bad about. Worse than mine, even. Thankfully, he’s joking.” I added it to the list of ‘responsibilities’, right under ‘no religious crusades, bloodline vendettas, or other such retribution that extends beyond a 1:1 ratio.’

“Charly points out that we might be in trouble about the indiscriminate spread of biologically hazardous materials,” Conor added.

“Nope!” Maverick grinned. “I got the other part of those laws, and targeted use of bioweapons is exempt, since most weapons used in defense can be considered a biohazard. Also, most foods, it turns out. We didn’t carpet bomb their ship or planets with chili powder, so we should be okay.”

“Thank fuck,” I muttered. “I don’t need anyone figuring out that Charly and Arthur were running a betting pool with Huynh on how many war crimes they could get away with.”

“Apparently four, so far,” Maverick confirmed.

“Three!” I admonished. “Suggesting eating the Glux does not count. We didn’t know they were actually sentient when he mentioned that. Noah had to point out that all cephalopods are sentient, which I super did not know.”

There goes any calamari for the rest of my life. Dammit.

I stared down at our list so far, making sure we had everything before sending an image to the rest of our ersatz discovery lawyers. It had been decided that I would write out the consolidated list - Xiomara’s handwriting was horrid, and Parvati’s was too fancy - before sending a photo, since Miys couldn’t interpret images, and we generally shared so many that we considered it safe from snooping or translation.

Besides, worst case scenario, we were working out what the documents Miys had given us said. No shame or subterfuge in that. At least, that’s what I told myself when I pushed down the rock that had formed in my stomach at the thought that we were plotting against our hosts.

“We’re missing something,” I murmured, tapping my chin with a pen. I smeared something wet, realizing the green smear was the wrong end of the pen. “The whole punishment has to be levied against all species like it’s being levied against our own.” I carefully wrote it out, telling myself that Xiomara could pretty up the language later.

Conor read the addition, and leaned forward, drumming his fingers on his knees. “We need to talk to the human.” His fingertip found its way to his mouth, and I subconsciously pulled it away and squeezed his nail bed, ignoring the irony. “I think it’s only fair that if we have to sentence them all the same, we try just the human. To be impartial.”

I wasn’t even ashamed to admit that this was a fantastic idea, and dashed off a quick note to Xiomara. Before I could send it however, I got a message from Arthur with priority override, code OMGWTFBBQ. All it contained was two legal passages and a photograph, and I had to squint to make out what it said.

Team Discovery,

This is bullshit. Deja Moo. Pure fertilizer.

Seriously?

Arthur

The legal passages took a moment to parse, but the first was relatively harmless. “Disclose non-taboo cultural information for inclusion in the Galactic Database. For culturals taboos, stating the taboo is sufficient in lieu.” Okay, fair, fair. Can do. It was the second passage that brought all eight processors in my mind to a screaming, smoking halt.

“All refugee species are expected to adhere to informational restrictions and blackouts for the duration of relocation and refugee status.”

What. The. Living. Fuck.

I could hear both Maverick and Conor breathing heavily like angry bulls, but to his credit, Maverick focused on the one part that wouldn’t give us away. “What is Deja Moo?”

“The strong suspicion that you have heard this bullshit before,” I responded, carefully counting the seconds on my breathing exercises. I was six breaths in and kind of high on oxygen, which meant I couldn’t stand up long enough to strangle anyone. That was a good sign.

Once my vision was getting spotty, I forged ahead. “Council reconvene is in six Terran hours, so we have time to grab a nap for anyone who can sleep, sedation for those who can’t, and if you both promise to be really, really quiet, you can sit in here while I take the call at the table. By quiet, I mean just let me finish a sentence before you chime in, although that didn’t seem to stop Parvati last time.”

“No one is brave enough to interrupt the woman who is willing to cut off Xio,” Maverick muttered before stretching. “I can’t promise to sleep, but resting my eyes after four thousand pages of legal text is sounding like heaven right now.”

Conor nodded before pulling the other man up out of the poor unfortunate chair that had been subject to an intense, twenty hour study session. I elected to instead take a shower and stretch out on the sofa - if I tried to ‘rest’ in the bedroom, I wouldn’t want to get up for the meeting, and Cranky Sophia was not a Reasonable Sophia.

Five hours of an orchestral snoring duet and a cup of coffee later, I was stationed at the dinner table, facing both men in the shared living room space. I didn’t want to be the first to join the meeting, so I was waiting strategically until there were thirty minutes left beforehand - for all that I didn’t like Huynh’s personality, I could appreciate that he was terminally punctual and was never less than half an hour early to meetings.

Once the timer hit twenty minutes til, I logged on and gave the guys a hard stare. Huynh, Eino, and Evan were already online, with more joining every few minutes. Once we were all on, with five minutes until the reconvene officially started, everyone who had been parsing through millennia of legal jargon uploaded our findings relative to our case.

The opening of the conference was announced in quiet murmurs as everyone dug through the information we provided. Once the whispering roar died down a bit, Pranav spoke. “Opening the official reconvene of Council meeting regarding the disposition of prisoners resulting from the recent incursion by pirates upon dropping out of relativistic space. All Councilors and Mentees are present, so the floor is open.”

“FIRST order of business,” Arthur insisted, pulling the main image to his face, “Is the contradictory orders you have all received around full disclosure of our culture, excluding taboos, while adhering to all information restrictions and blackouts, which to date have included any updates regarding our own home planet.”

Once he paused, Xiomara spoke up. “To clarify, they already have all information pulled from our internet or quote-unquote ‘Planetary Database’, and we are expected to add any information we have that may have been missed, but we have no idea what all information they still have from the After, and more specifically Post-After.”

“What Post-After?” Eino asked. “The entire goal of the Ark was to salvage what would survive of humanity, and the presumption was that the rest wouldn’t survive.”

Xiomara nodded. “Yes, exactly. But do we know for sure? And life on Earth doesn’t stop with us… there are entire biospheres that depended on us not being there. How are the pandas? Did the Great Barrier Reef recover? Hell, who knows! Not us. They won’t tell us.”

“Annnnd we aren’t allowed to ask, apparently,” Arthur pointed out, bringing the topic back before it could run away. “Information blackouts and whatnot.”

“But… our rights as a refugee species are dependent on telling them everything not covered by a cultural taboo?” Grey asked slowly. They weren’t included in the legal discovery, for this specific reason: no one on the Ark was dispositioned against informational blackouts more than they were, and their bare reaction was the best thing we could hope for. “With no information coming to us in kind?”

“That’s how it reads,” Xiomara admitted, giving nothing additional so that the Council could draw their own conclusions. The goal, for all of our discovery, had been to make sure that the information was clear enough that the entire human population of the Ark could make their own decisions when time came to a vote.

And a vote it would come to, in light of this latest information. Information censorship was a long, dark road in human history, and one that none of us felt like taking a trip back down. We made sure, hours prior, that we had enough backing on the Council to push this to a fully-public vote. But nobody on the Ark summed it up quite as clearly as Tyche did.

“Wait, they get to write The Guide to Darkest Humanica, and we don’t even get to PROOFREAD IT!?” she sputtered. “Fuck THAT.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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genshin-garbage · 3 years

Text

Regret and the Truth

Lumine falls for the distant alchemist, Albedo, but he doesn’t realize his feelings until it’s too late. He hurts her in a way he can’t undo and regret settles in his heart. Regret can be ignored for a while, but it always comes back.

When Lumine first saw the alchemist, her first thought was that he was really pretty. When they officially met, she found the rumors about his coldness to be unfounded. He was quite pleasant to work with and engaged in conversation avidly. Albedo wasn’t shy about asking questions about her nature as a traveler of worlds, and was curious about her biology. She initially chalked this up to being about his research, but as the questions became more and more personal, she couldn’t help but be curious about him in turn.

Over time, their talks started to resemble normal conversations people have to get to know each other. Questions like: what are your hobbies and what’s your hometown like. Lumine eventually forgot how insatiable his curiosity really is and came to consider him a close friend, later even developing feelings for him. She went to visit his camp on Dragonspine whenever she was free, and when she had to stop by the Knights of Favonius headquarters she always asked if he was there.

It didn’t take long for most of the knights to realize Lumine’s crush, Klee especially was excited as she wanted to see the honorary knight be happy with her big brother. Aside from Klee, the knights generally supported her. A few who were closer to Albedo however, were a bit hesitant and tried to steer her away from him. Sucrose and Timaus in particular tried to tell Lumine about his one-track mind, and how he has a hard time understanding normal emotions. However, Lumine’s feelings couldn’t be stopped and those who were reluctant do eventually stop trying to sway her.

There came a day when Lumine had finally worked up the courage to confess her feelings with the support of her friends (and maybe a little bit of alcohol). It was sunset and Albedo had been collecting research materials in Dragonspine, she was a bit tipsy and waiting for him in his lab.

“Hm? Lumine? What are you doing here?”

“Albedo I, I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

Lumine approaches him, she was too nervous to look him in the eyes. “I, I like you a lot!”

“Hmm, I see. Then I wonder…” He leans over and kisses her. Lumine doesn’t kiss back out of surprise but quickly leans into the kiss. Their hands roam each other's bodies as they kiss, feet taking them to the couch nearby. As Albedo lays her down on the sofa, he kisses her down her neck and leads the night in a more passionate direction.

Lumine wakes up naked next to Albedo. Her head stung a little but she remembers clearly what had transpired. She blushes hard, she felt there was a possibility of Albedo returning her affections but she didn’t expect the night to turn in that direction. It felt good though and she doesn’t regret it. He never properly said he liked her back however, which irked her a bit, but there was still time. She feels Albedo stir below her, one hand moving from her waist to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes.

“Mhmmm, good morning.” He sits up carefully so as to not push her off the couch.

“Good- good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel great. A bit sore but I really enjoyed last night.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary? No changes anywhere?”

“No?” She hesitated, dread washing over her. “Last night, you never really told me how you felt.”

“About that, I don’t want you to misinterpret my actions. I was merely curious about your biology and how your kind reacts to romantic interest, nothing more. Perhaps if the results were different we could have continued this charade a bit longer, but they turned out to be the same as any average person in Teyvat.” He reaches over to grab his shirt from the floor. “Please excuse me, I have work to do and I must record the data from this experiment.”

Lumine shifted off him but remained silent, tears began to well up in her eyes as she felt her heart be torn to shreds by every word that came out of his mouth. To him she was nothing more than an experiment, a specimen in his research to find the truth to this world. She was had, used, and now was being discarded as if she was nothing. “So last night, my confession, it all meant nothing to you? All those times you called me beautiful, was it all a lie?”

“No, not entirely. You are attractive and your company is pleasant enough.” He puts on his clothing as he speaks, his tone disinterested and his face neutral. It was clear he didn’t care what happened next or how Lumine felt. “However, beyond my research I don’t feel the need to be anymore than acquaintances. It was simply convenient to use your attraction to get a better idea of how you work.”

“I see.” Her voice cracked and Albedo turned to look at her. Tears fell down her cheeks and a fake smile plastered on her face as she put on her clothing. “I’m- I’m glad that I was at least some use to you. I, uh, I need to go. Paimon must be wondering where I am. Goodbye.”

She rushes out the door leaving a surprised Albedo alone in the lab. While he did expect her to be upset, he didn’t expect her to still treat him with such kindness. He expected her to beat him screaming at him for playing with her emotions. He felt a tinge of regret before smothering it, there wasn’t time for regret in the pursuit of knowledge. It was a necessary step in getting the data he needed. Still, the hurt expression lingered in his mind as he planned out his new routine until the people of Mondtstadt forgot about this incident.

The next few weeks, Lumine was emotionally absent. It was hard not to notice how she robotically went through commissions, taking more of them as well as bounties. Paimon noticed that what little sleep she did get on a daily basis was cut from her schedule, and that she had started eating less. Whenever anyone asked what was wrong, she would always say that she was fine. They knew it had something to do with Albedo, but he was more elusive than usual. He was the last to come and first to leave during meetings, all of his experiments now took place in Dragonspine, and his time spent babysitting Klee was now spent studying the area around Star Snatched Cliff.

One night, they had finally had enough and managed to convince Diluc to let Lumine drink in hopes that some alcohol in her system would finally get her to tell them what was wrong. He agreed, and so Lisa, Jean, and Amber took Lumine out on a girls night out while Diluc manned the bar.

Lisa was the first to prod after Lumine was decently drunk. “So Lumine, What happened between you and Albedo? You haven’t asked about him in a long while. Did your confession not go well?”

“He- he doesn’t like me in that way. I’m nothing but a specimen in his research.” Lumine takes another long sip of her drink. “He said it himself, ‘beyond my research I don’t feel the need to become anything beyond acquaintances’.”

“I have a feeling that if he had simply rejected you, you wouldn’t be this upset.” Jean stated. “Something else happened between you two. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but as your friends we want to help you in any way we can.”

“Yeah! Like Jean said! We all hate seeing you all mopey and sad! If Albedo did anything to you I’ll make it my personal mission to set Barron Bunny on him!” Amber added, crossing her arms to exaggerate her point.

Lumine, touched by their words, and incredibly hammered at this point, began to cry. “Tha-thank you guys. I- after I confessed we spent the night together, it was consensual and I enjoyed it, but the morning after he admitted that he only slept with me as part of his research. I- I really thought he liked me back, but he used me! I feel like there’s something wrong with me! I feel so dumb for falling for him, Sucrose and Timaus even warned me! Am I just not good enough? I thought I had a chance, but I was so foolish for thinking I was good enough. Why would he fall for someone like me? I’m nothing but an outlander!”

The rest of her words become unintelligible babble and wails. Amber held her in a tight hug as she bawled her eyes out. Looks were shared between the three women and Diluc as a roaring rage began to burn in their eyes. How dare he use Lumine like this. How dare he play with her feelings, then cast her aside like a toy. Any sort of respect they had for the alchemist beyond his genius had dissipated in the wind.

It wasn’t long before everyone in Mondstadt knew what had happened. He found the increased difficulty in obtaining items in shops and finding people to assist him irritating but not unexpected. He didn’t care about the glares from adults, but the questions from Klee did sting.

“What did big brother do to big sis Lumine to hurt her feelings? Klee can go get Jean and see if she can help big brother make up with Lumine!”

“It’s ok Klee, I’m sure Jean and Lumine have better things to do.”

“But-”

“Klee, it's fine. How about you go play outside.”

“Ok…”

As Klee exited the lab, Sucrose came in. She had an anxious look and was fidgeting. “Master Albedo? Do you have a moment? I wish to speak to you about something.”

“Very well, what is it Sucrose?”

“Why- why did you do that to Lumine? There were other ways to get the data you wanted without hurting her. So why did you do it?”

“It was simply the most convenient way at the time, and the data I collected was easier to analyze since I didn’t have to rely on a third party. It was simply easier to get objective information.”

Sucrose clearly didn’t like that answer as her body tensed up and her face had a hurt expression. “I see. I’ll leave you be then. I won’t be available to assist you for a while. I hope your research was worth Lumine’s pain.”

She stormed off in a quiet rage and left Albedo alone in the lab. He seemed to be alone more, he attributed it to the lack of hands helping him but he knew deep down it was because Lumine wasn’t there anymore. For the second time, regret flared up in his heart before he smothers it again. If loneliness was a consequence of getting closer to the truth, then he shall make himself the loneliest man alive.

The month after the confrontation with Sucrose, he overhears that the traveler had returned from Liyue with someone. He pays this no mind until he sees her with the man himself. An ugly feeling rears its head as he sees her laughing and smiling with a green haired man. If Albedo hadn’t been so observant he would have thought the man to be annoyed by her presence, but he notices how soft his eyes look at her and how he stands in a position ready to protect her if anything were to suddenly happen. When the man pulls a fallen leaf out of her hair, the ugly feeling grips harder.

Before he can stop, he realizes that he’s walking towards them. It’s too late to turn around as they notice him. “Welcome back, Lumine. May I ask who this is?”

Lumine shifts uncomfortably in place, she turns to hide herself a little. “Oh, uh, hello. This is Xiao, Xiao this is Albedo.”

“Is he the one you’ve spoken about in the past?” Xiao’s expression has lost its softness as he looks at Albedo.

Lumine hesitates to answer the question, nervous of his reaction. “Yes… yes he is.” She grabs his arm when she sees him tense up. “Please don’t do anything, it’s in the past. I just want to forget it happened.”

“Hmph, fine.”

“I shall take my leave. Enjoy your stay in Mondstadt and a pleasure to meet you Xiao.”

“I cannot say likewise.” He growls.

As Albedo walks away, he sees in the reflection of a store window that Lumine had kissed Xiao on the cheek. Flustered Xiao turns away, but not without holding her hand in return.

“That could have been me.” The thought stakes its claim in his mind. As much as he tries and tries, he can’t smother the feeling of regret in his heart. He loves Lumine, but he hurt her, and now he can never have her. When he turned into his lab, he sunk down onto his knees and truly let the feeling sink in. He was a genius but clearly he still had much to learn, he just wished he had realized sooner what his teacher truly meant when she told him to learn the truth to this world.

He closed his eyes and hoped that if he were to ever be reborn he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, then let the darkness consume him.

#genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo #gi albedo #genshin impact lumine #genshin lumine #gi lumine #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao #gi xiao #albelumi #albedo x lumine #lumine x albedo #xiaolumi #lumine x xiao #xiao x lumine #genshin impact #genshin #gi

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yan-twst · 4 years

Note

please take care of yourself! if it's not too much trouble, can i please request yandere riddle, ruggie, azul, and epel with a darling who confessed to them before they could even think of kidnapping/murder/etc? thank you very much!

warnings: general yandere themes,mentions of blood, mentions of death, non consensual drug use

riddle rosehearts

he’s taken off guard, at first. riddle is one to plan out everything, to make sure he has a guideline and follow it- his sudden obsession is no different

perhaps it’s early enough he can still tell himself his emotions were simply a crush, simply the kind of romance others speak of; after all, his darling just waltzed into his arms before his heart could provide thoughts of keeping them to himself, before he could grow jealous of anyone who spoke to them

and yet, instead of the newfound relationship putting a halt onto his tendencies, it does little but speed them up

his plan might have changed, but it will have the same outcome. the way riddle loves is controlling and possessive, by nature; having his darling so available and already close to him just fuels the fire

already being in a relationship just makes his heart grow all that much twisted. as his darling’s boyfriend, he feels entitled to their obedience, to their attention

after all, riddle craves control. he’s been controlled all his life, carefully regulated to be someone his mother wanted him to be; it’s only natural he fights to have absolute control now that he’s free, and this absolute control is just intoxicating when it comes to his darling

perhaps the fact they began to date him before he could develop his true colors makes it even harder for them to accept the relationship is rotten. after all, it began so sweetly- it’s hard to accept the way riddle’s behaviour morphs slowly, the way he forces them to follow his rules, how he tries to monopolize their time; after all, that’s just... that’s just him being him, right...?

it’s so difficult for his darling. they’re in too deep- riddle feels entitled to their everything: after all, it was them who asked for his love, right? as much as he’s tyrannical, he’s also desperate for the affection his own mother never gave him.

he thirsts for power, affection, and reaffirmations; the way he drank up praise and smiled when his darling followed the silly heartslabyul rules at the start of the relationship slowly degrades into his demands to receive affection met by harsh punishment if denied, degrades into him placing so many rules it’s almost impossible for his darling to go a day without being yelled at for their “disobedience” no matter how hard they try

azul ashengrotto

one would think that being confessed to first would soothe azul. his insecurities are his achilles’ heel, after all; growing desperate at the thought of not being enough for his darling, putting on his usual act to impress them. but if they come to him first, even before he can start forging plans to rope them in, then- it should be fine, right?

but it’s not. it’s not fine, and his darling might realize so once it’s too late to escape the octopus’ grasp.

azul is greedy by nature. he wants more money, more contracts, more power over students, more notoriety. it’s not just enough to be dating his darling, not after a while

it’s so easy to fall back onto bad habits for him, questioning if he’s truly enough, if they’re just with him out of pity; soon enough it only takes him spotting his partner smiling to someone else for him to convince himself they’re cheating on him because he’s not enough, for him to assume any moment they aren’t with him they’re actively trying to get away from him

and it’s just painful for his darling, really. it’s not as if they didn’t know azul had a softer, insecure side- but it’s exhausting to deal with him. emotionally draining. to reassure him every time, to have to prove they’re loyal, to prove their love... it’s almost just easier to spend every moment with azul to avoid him making assumptions

and it’s not like they have much of a choice either. if a relationship is 50/50, then azul thinks his darling’s half should be to not worry him and stay by his side at all times, something he’s eager to bring up. after all, refusing him is just begging for him to either get angry or fall off one of his many insecurity spirals; and both scenarios usually end up with his darling getting dragged away by the twins to “fix” azul

a relationship that started off fine is now just toxic. azul is desperately codependent and controlling, and this isn’t even as bad as he can get; really, his darling gets a front-row seat to see how he’s slowly enveloped in his obsession with them

it’s not hard for azul’s darling to fall out of love, not like this. the azul they knew at the start, the one they fell in love with is mostly gone by the time the three month anniversary rolls around- them trying to break up with the merman is almost a given, and yet that’s probably the straw that breaks the camel’s back and just makes azul fully succumb to his obsession

kidnapping, blackmailing, contracts, killing, violence; azul brings in the big guns once his darling tries to leave. he sees it as his insecurities and fears having been ‘correct all along’- he has to take control, has to make things work by force if it has to be so; after all, it’s clear his darling won’t stay anymore, so... he’ll just have to keep them by force, won’t he?

ruggie bucchi

ruggie might often appear quite relaxed and friendly, but he doesn’t hold himself too high. he sees himself as a slum cat, a no-good opportunist with not too many redeeming features, so when his crush confesses to him just a few days after he himself realized he had a crush is almost mind boggling

perhaps it’s that what keeps the “honeymoon” stage of the relationship alive for so long. the sheer disbelief and joy that he’s getting his way, that life is aligning itself for him to have something nice without having had to work for it

but the honeymoon stage isn’t eternal, don’t you know? everything that goes up must go down- in some relationships that might mean one loses interest, or grows bored, but in ruggie’s case it’s differnet.

he grows paranoid, grows selfish. his darling is finally his. he finally has something that’s entirely his own- no hand me downs, no stealing, no pity gifts; his darling was the one to come to him, they’re his, and they’re not for anyone else

“something of his own” is perhaps a good way to just see all the ways ruggie’s brain is fucked up on this; his darling is something he owns, more of a belonging than a person. oh, don’t get him wrong- he loves them, he thrives off the attention (he needs it, almost, desperately begging for it) they give him- but in the end of the day, they’re his so they should do as he says, right?

he’s grown up knowing to hide and protect valuables, that everyone else is out to steal other’s precious gems; he comes from a dog-eat-dog world, and that sort of thinking poisons his heart. he can’t stand people even glancing at his darling, spending time with them; his heart says they’re trying to steal them, why wouldn’t they? isn’t his darling just the most precious thing? but they’re HIS precious thing- and it’s his duty to make sure nobody takes them away, right?

it’s so easy to get rid of people with his unique magic. it’s so easy to clean up any mess, with how used he is to cleaning. it’s so easy to hide remains in the vast sands that extend in the distance of the savanaclaw dorm

and it’s so easy to show his darling his work, to make them aware of how hard he works for them- of course, this is nothing short of using fear to control them, but hey, if it works, it works, doesn’t it?

after all, his darling is just that much more willing to stay nice and put in his room while he’s out if the memory of ruggie’s bloodstained clothes is engraved in their mind, and it’s so much easy for ruggie to get the attention he craves so badly if his darling is still processing the news of their close friends’ bodies not being found

epel felmier

epel is not a complete stranger to being approached with a confession- although tragically, more than once it’s been some idiot student who somehow mistook him for a girl, only leading to bitterness and anger. so of course, when he’s finally confessed to by someone he likes- confessed to by someone who knows him, who is close to him- he’s over the moon

of course he’d worried about his crush not liking him due to his appearance; after all, he doesn’t like how fragile and lithe he is, so it’s hard to imagine others liking it (despite how annoying vil can be about how his form or whatever is perfect)

even though he knows his lover fully supports his endeavors to grow stronger, he knows that they’re weak to him. not in the way someone relies on a strong person, but because they love him- they’ll say yes to anything he says if he bats his eyelashes and speaks sweetly

and at first he doesn’t care. he won’t swoop that low- if his darling doesn’t want to do something he wants, fine. but then he starts craving for things he shouldn’t; he feels clingy and possessive, not wanting to see his darling smiling and laughing with others, not wanting them to wander alone- and suddenly he’s not above using his charm to make them give in

the fact epel wasn’t even aware how dark his desires could go just goes to show how unprepared his own darling could be. after all, at first it seems like innocent things; spending more time with him, not hanging out with students that are too flirty. it’s normal, it’s just small sacrifices needed for a working relationship

but isn’t it curious how all the sacrifices come from his darling’s part...? after all, it’s them who have to cut off contact with certain friends epel deems “too touchy”, it’s them who have to wait for epel to escort them between classes, it’s them who have to spend their free time and days off in epel’s room- but it’s so hard to call epel out. he’s so innocent and adorable; surely they’re just approaching things from the wrong angle, surely the relationship doesn’t have that big of a power imbalance, right...?

he’s a bit scared of himself, in all honesty. surely, not all relationships can be like this- surely, not all love can feel like this, can it...? he’s never been in love before, but he’s quite sure not everyone feels murderous urges to get rid of anyone who even looks at their partner, that not everyone gets as much satisfaction from seeing their partner cry as they do from a kiss from them. it’s not normal, but it’s his way of love- so surely he can’t be wrong for just giving into whatever his heart says, can he?

but epel isn’t fully in control until he brings in fear. love and affection are what he wants, yes- but those can only get him so far. he isn’t fully in control until his darling understands he’s the one in charge, he isn’t fully in charge until his darling is woozy off potions slipped in their food by him- potions that make them sleepy, giggly and obedient, that let him easily shove them into his room and perhaps attach a chain to their ankle, with them just hazily giggling about the situation instead of screaming, not able to comprehend the situation they’re in- the fear can settle in once the potion fades, after all

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #ruggie bucchi #epel felmier #yandere tw #death ment #blood ment #drug ment #Anonymous

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physicalturian · 3 years

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

“Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

A real doctor: Good.

I saw him type but typed my question faster.

Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

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