#sorry I'm not sure how I should tag the tw on this because I've never had to tag triggers before

[russellsppttemplates]

Your mummy is my hero (Lance Stroll)

Lance and Y/N continue their journey into parenthood

Note: english is not my first language. Like the last pieces, this piece is written from experiences I know and not from such a scientific point of view, so it is probable that there are some mistakes as I'm not a doctor. Still, I've tried to treat this as respectfully as possible as this is very close to my heart.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions endometriosis, fertility issues and treatments and associated topics (needles, blood), pregnancy, baby feeding

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, darling", Lance greeted, setting the wooden spoon on the counter and wiping his hands on the towell by the cabinets, "how was your day?", he walked up to you, placing his hands on your waist as pulling you to him close enough so he could kiss you, "it was good, but I'm really tired, like, really really tired", you hummed before blushing at your own admission.

Lately, the smallest efforts, both physical and cognitive, were leaving you with a tiredness you couldn't recognise. Pairing that with the fact that Lance had been extra doting on you since the transfer, which meant cosy nights in his chest always available for you to lay on, there hadn't been a night in the last week where you hadn't been in bed by the time the news finished on the TV.

"And you managed to eat lunch?", he asked, walking back to the stove so he could finish plating up the food he just cooked, "yes, it was fine. I think this whole eating and going to bed routine, as lovely as it is, is not agreeing with my stomach", you shrugged.

Approaching him so it would be your turn to hug him, you positioned yourself so you could get close enough to his neck, kissing the thin skin there and whispering in his ear, "am I crazy if I think this means our little bun is making themselves warm and cosy in my uterus?".

"I think it's okay, because I'm hopeful, too", he whispered back, smiling as he kissed your cheek, "tomorrow we will know for sure", Lance offered, "until then, I have one of your favourite dishes and some cuddles that hopefully won't turn your tummy upside down", he smiled, holding your plate out so you could bring it to the table and you could both eat dinner.

.

"Dr. Marlin will call you shortly", one of the nurses informed as she escorted you out the the room she had taken your blood in, smiling warmly at Lance.

"Everything okay?", your husband asked, "yes, at this point, I don't even mind it", you reassured him, holding his hand in yours, "whatever happens today, we'll get through it, okay?", he whispered. Even though he cried happy tears when you had the transfer, he had gotten back to be the strong person in the process. He was the one caring for you and making sure you were both standing with your feet on the ground, regulating any emotions and allowing you to breakdown every time you needed to, never failing to bring the smile back to your face.

"I have your results back", Dr. Marlin said once you had sat down and had small talk, "congratulations, Y/N! You're pregnant", she announced.

Lance was quick to pull you to his side, hugging you as best as he could and kissing the side of your head as you cried, "I'm sorry, but these good news are also a lot to take in", you chuckled, wiping the tears with your thumbs before looking at Dr. Marlin, sensing she wanted to carry on.

"It's okay to feel like this, it's completely normal", she offered, "while this is still early, so we have to be careful, your levels looks really good", she pointed the screen so you could see your results and the interval they have to be for successful procedures, "everything is looking good, your HCG levels are very good even. You already know the risks and what you should keep an eye out for, but so far, we are headed in the right direction, congratulations!".

After prescribing you prenatal vitamins and booking the next appointment, Dr. Marlin sent you both on your way to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, "I love you", Lance said once you sat in the passengers seat, kissing your lips passionately, "I love you, too, handsome, so much", you smiled, cupping his cheek softly and rubbing the skin with your thumb quickly before he moved so he could close the door.

.

"And then I was like 'wait, I've learnt how to do this in a better way!', so I gathered the things I needed and so far, it's going along well", you said as you walked around the bedroom, grabbing your underwear from the drawer and putting it on, untying your robe's belt as you walked to the head of the bed so you could grab and put your pyjamas on, "and what about you?", you asked your husband, "did they change the shape on the front wing?", you asked, taking off the robe completely.

"Yes, they ran some tests and it looks promising, and I also d- woah", he gasped, adjusting his position onto the bed, "it wasn't there last night", he whispered, rolling on the bed so he could approach you, his head in line with your midsection.

"What wasn't th- oh", you noticed, too. The swell under your boobs was prominent. Not like whenever you had a little bit too much of your mother's cooking or whenever your period left you feeling heavier, but rather like a baby bump.

"It still feels surreal", you whispered, pulling your shorts all the way up so they sat lowly on your hips and sitting on the bed next to Lance, his hand going straight to caress your skin while you pulled the thin material on to rest just under your boobs, "our little one is growing, made themselves cosy and warm inside mummy? You're very clever already", he spoke to the bump as his hands continued their ministrations on your skin, pressing his lips above your belly button and leaving small kisses there, "you still have a long way to grow, but mummy and daddy are here so excited to meet you, love".

.

"She's growing my baby, and I don't mean this to sound so animalistic - maybe it's that instinct though -, but she's growing our baby that we made together and she's the best, she's taking everything like a champion. I know that there are hard days, but she's still doing it 24/7", Lance said.

"Well, it's not something you can tag out or have a break", Chloe retorted despite knowing where her younger brother was getting at.

"I know, but- she's been through a lot, we've been through a lot, and we're finally so close to meeting our daughter", he admitted.

You didn't want to make a big fuss around it, but you insisted on gathering both families for a dinner to celebrate your baby and to spend some time together before your routines changed. You and Lance spoke to a caterer who delivered the food at your place while Chloe, Scotty and your husband set the big table while you played with your nephew, the little boy forever entertained with your games and occasionally kissing your clothed bump like he had seen his uncle do so many times.

When Chloe brought the small box with balloons, her smile was beaming, "open it, open it! I'm very proud of myself for not taking a peak, but please, open it!", your sister in law beamed, clapping her hands as the rest of the family members waited expectantly for you and Lance to rip the tape and lift the lid of the box.

When you did so and it revealed lavender coloured balloons with silver writing announcing "it's a girl!", everyone cheered and clapped, Lance hugging you as one hand travelled to your bump whole the other pulled your closer, "ready to be a girl dad?", you teased, kissing his chin, "I was born ready for this, my love".

Knowing you were carrying his little girl made Lance even more attentive to you, if that was possible, and it brought out an even softer side of him. He tried to be there for all the appointments he could, had organised a list with you so you could both have input in what you'd need to buy for your baby girl, and anytime he saw something he liked and thought "she absolutely needs to have this", he would bring it home along with your favourite dessert in a take out bag.

"I'm back", you announced as you walked back into the living room, "hopefully she'll let me sit for longer than an hour and not use my bladder like a dance floor", you chuckled, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit next to him as he hugged you sideways.

"Have you thought about names? I remember me and Scotty went back and forth with so many names until we found the one that felt right", Chloe questioned.

"We have a list with a couple of them", you began, "and we're set on one, Addalynn. It's a strong name, we can do Addy for a short nickname", you explained, rubbing your bump as you felt her kick, "and she seems to like it, too! She always wiggles harder whenever we say it!".

.

The rumble in the corridor was practically unheard inside your hospital room as Lance exited the bathroom after washing his hands, looking over to you and seeing your sleeping figure. The labour had, as expected, taken a lot of energy from you, so after the medical team made sure you were in good health and after you fed your babygirl, they urged you to rest for a little bit, reassuring you that they'd be around if anything happened.

"Hey, little love", Lance cooed, noticing his daughter give a little scrunch in her bassinet and prompting him to take her out and hold her against his chest, "what a delicious scrunch you've got there, hm?", he complimented as he grabbed a blanket, sitting down and covering her back with the blanket after making sure she was in a good position, "Mummy is resting now, you gave her a hard time to come out here, did you know that?"

"Mummy and I have dreamed of this day for a really long time, and you've made our dreams come true", he cooed, softly touching Addalynn's soft chubby cheeks, "mummy put her body through a lot so we could be a family, and that's why she's my hero", he noted as she made a small noise, meaningless to the conversation and yet Lance felt like she was reacting to what he said.

"I know, right? She's sleeping now, but you probably fell in love with her the minute you were put on her chest, like we did with you. Mummy is kind, selfless and resilient. Sometimes she's stubborn, too", he chuckled, "but that means she loves extra hard, too, and that we just need to keep an eye out when she's taking too much of a burden so we can share it. You and I are going to be a team for that, okay? Always keeping an eye out for mummy", he smiled, kissing her forehead, "your mummy is my hero, and from now on, you are both my priorities", he promised, the sigh from his daughter's lips as she opened and closed her mouth, "are you hungry? Mummy is asleep, isn't- Oh, she isn't, hm?".

You chuckled, rubbing your eyes as you smiled tiredly, "were you two having a chat? Without me?", you feigned offense as you watched your husband get up so he could place your daughter on your chest, "let's have some food, hm? Such a gorgeous girl, you are, and maybe me and you can also have a chat about daddy. I'm sure you've figured it out already", you added as you lowered your top, "but he's the best daddy ever".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[dnalt-d2]

(TW for racism/xenophobia, as well as what's going on with Cellbit right now. For anyone who wants to know about that, I put the documents he put out in the replies for the post, as well as TWs for what it contains)

You know, I gotta say I'm really glad I'm hardly on twitter and BARELY know how to navigate it. Because I never actually SEE any of the drama going on over there, I just hear it from tumblr people coming here from over there, and that's definitely the case here as well as well

And I know I haven't really talked much about QSMP Drama before, but what's going on right now is hitting me a little harder than I would've thought, so I do wanna give my two cents on it

For starters, I read through the entire document that Cellbit put out and I feel absolutely horrible for what he's going through right now, and for what he went through in the past. Especially since I've been through something similar to one of the things he mentioned. Not to mention the fact that I'm also most likely asexual as well. (This is kinda why I wanted to talk about it at all, if I'm being honest) I really hope things get better for him, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart

And as for the apparently rampant xenophobia that's been targeted towards the Brazilian community, I honestly feel absolutely terrible that this has been happening. And I really hope that people can come here and find a better part of the community to interact with, if they choose to stay at all. Which I can certainly understand anyone choosing to leave, however unfortunate that is. Either way, I'm really sorry this has been happening to you guys, and it never should have happened in the first place (And anyone else who's experienced this, you have my sympathy as well, even if I know it isn't really gonna help much)

For anyone that stays, I'm really sorry things have been so shitty. Obviously there's not gonna be any place that's completely safe and tolerant, but I certainly hope things over here are better than on twitter

QSMP has been an amazing experience for me, and the fact that I've learned so much about so many different cultures has been absolutely incredible. I'm not the kind of person who can just learn this kind of stuff by reading up on it, so this has really been a great way to learn about things that I either never thought to look into, or just wasn't able to understand for whatever reason

Anyone that sees this sort of project, which has been connecting so many different communities and cultures, and decides to still be so intolerant and hateful, are just a special kind of awful. And frankly, they're the ones losing out on something incredible

(Btw I'm not sure what all to tag this as, since again, I don't really talk about drama stuff all that often, so if anyone wants me to tag a specific trigger or anything else, please let me know)

#qsmp #qsmp drama #I'm not sure what specifically to tag this with honestly #cellbit #qsmp cellbit #xenophobia tw #racism tw #drama

[hetalia-club]

I'm not normally one to rant or anything but here goes.

I hesitate to tag this. but I feel it needs to be said, in fact I feel it HAS to be said or I think this fandom is just going to be done for within the next 5 or so years. People need to read this and understand what is happening within the fandom and not continue this behavior or turn a blind eye to it.

This fandom has a SERIOUS problem. I don't say that lightly either. I feel like 99% of this fandom are sweet and caring people. but we have that 1%.

This 1% is killing the community in this fandom. How is it okay to message someone, demand they make a statement on THEIR blog and when they say they don't want to talk about it you then tell them you wish they would die a horrible death?

TW for suicide and SA! (you have been warned) Long rant below. (preempted note to let everyone know that I am fine, I am not posting this for people to feel bad for me. I am using my own experiences as examples, but this is not a 'me' issue this is a fandom issue)

Why is that so normalized here? The vague blogging and the call to arms people in this fandom do is actually disgusting. Picking one person and just beating them down until they eventually leave the fandom and at the SAME people will be like. "Why is the Hetalia fandom so small?" Who wants to be in a fandom where making one statement that's not even bad could get you death threats?

I don't think the fandom realizes how hurtful what they say can be. Sure you might not have liked a post someone made because you disagreed. Well then scroll down, hit the block button and carry on with your life. Why do some of you feel it is acceptable behavior to make mass posts calling out someone or going into their inbox to tell them you wish they would kill themselves?

I say I don't like Spamano and people say they want me dead. I say I don't want to talk about IRL politics on my parody Hetalia blog and my life and entire country is threatened.

I say we shouldn't insert our ships into everyone's lives and let people ship what they want and not feel forced to appease you. and you guessed it people wish terrible things onto me and my body.

I feel the only way this behavior will change is if we start calling it out more. I know it will feel repetitive but I think ignoring it is only making it worse at this point.

I know a lot of people would read this and think "If you don't like it then leave the fandom" well YOU'RE the issue. This is not normal behavior. These are not actions of someone who is mentality well. Why should I leave a fandom I've been in for 10 years because some idiot cannot handle that I don't like shipping characters together? How is that impacting their life at all?

a few months ago I made a post and it was highjacked and someone totally just took it over and added their own thing onto it talking about SA. Totally out of left field not related to what I posted at all. I simply messaged them and asked them if they could please remove the comment as I am a survivor of SA and it don't think it was funny or appropriate to add onto my post and they just said. "No I can say anything I want to. I was talking about Hetalia so it's fine." like what do you mean no!? Who responds that way? What a normal considerate person would do is say "I'm sorry of course! I can just go make my own post." but no they just left it there. It's still there, won't say which post or who it was because it doesn't matter anymore.

But this is the kind of behavior I'm talking about. This weird entitlement of everyone being so defensive and angry all the time. Just wanting to pick a fight over nothing. You never know if simply saying something like (Example) "I don't really like Austria" Could land you 100 anons all saying they wanted you to off yourself. It's like a game of Russian roulette. It's a very stressful environment for a big creator to be in. All it really takes is the wrong person to see a post you made and disagreed with and all of a sudden they are making posts about you without mentioning your name but are CLEARLY about you saying "This person hates all Austrians, they are a neo-nazi and we should all block them and send them hate and also let's just reword what they said to make it sound 100x worse because people won't read the original post and they will just believe us." Who would want to be a creator in an environment like that?

would you believe me if I told you I still to this day am getting someone in my inbox calling for my r*pe because of the stupid fucking beauty pageant poll I did? Is that not insanity? Who is that person? Wtf is their life? I personally could not imagine sending hate to anyone for any reason, and if I did it would be off of anon and I would say it with my chest. Because in order for someone to push it that far they would have to saying some absolutely terrible stuff to make me take time from my day and life to give them negative energy.

The fandom is shrinking because of the 1% driving them away. They come after artists who draw a character in a way they don't like. They come after writers for depicting a character in a way they disagree with. They go after shippers for portraying their ship 'wrong'. They will comment on people's fun little head canons and just leave the rudest most unnecessary comments thinks like "He wouldn't do that" like okay?? Thanks for your insert betty sue. And it's always when you were never trying to set someone off is when they lose their minds. They do not understand even if a blog is big and has a lot of followers it is still THAT creators blog. they are a person not an identity who just churns out content for just you and they have to say and do whatever you want.

Another thing the 1% like to do on here is they will wait for you to say something and then they will jump to attack a person who does the thing you said you dislike and they will tell that person "blog name XYZ said you are a horrible person and I agree kill yourself" That one is a near direct quote I got not too long ago. I got several like that and actually had to message said creator and say "Why are you mad at me?" and they were completely confused, had no idea how they decided to attack me because of what they said. When I tell you that the 1% are sitting there frothing at the mouth wanting to send hate and death threats I mean that 100%

It's not JUST me either. All creators in the Hetalia fandom I'm sure could tell you about upsetting hate they received and had no idea what they even did or said wrong. I have spoken to former Hetalia blogs ones who I used to call my pals before I went on my hiatus and came back. They all said they left not because they started hating Hetalia but they left for their mental health because the 1% got too bold and unchecked. This was never an issue before quarantine. I know it brought a lot of new fans and that's great! But I also feel along with bringing in some wonderful people it brought in some really dark minded people as well. Saying "Just disable anons and move on" is also not a solution. these people are still here and if they're not bothering me or you they are tormenting someone else because that's what these people do. That 'someone else' may only need the tiniest nudge at the edge and they may just actually hurt themselves. You don't know people. You don't know what everyone is going through. You don't know what someone's life is like outside of here.

PLEASE Please! stop telling people to kill themselves. Stop telling people to go get R**ed in a gutter. Get some help talk to a therapist, a friend, a trusted teacher, a life coach, your parents, your sibling. anyone! And if you don't have anyone in your life you can talk to you can message me and we can talk about what you're going through. I'm sure any other Hetalian on here would say the same thing. Bloggers are real people.

International suicide hotlines

Website to help you find a therapist in your own country and in your price range

I know I will more than likely get hate for posting this. Which is upsetting to just know is going to happen but someone needs to say this because it's getting kind of out of control these last couple months I feel.

if you read this through reblog it, spread it around let the people who NEED to see it see it.

#hetalia #this needs to be said #if you are offended here just know YOU are the problem #stop sending threats to people #stop attacking creators

[adarafaelbarba]

Papa Joe having to visit school

Joe rushes into the administrative building, ready to learn what the hell happened when he sees Sofia sitting outside, head bowed.

"Mi todo, what happened?" He kneels in front of her so she'll look at him.

"I didn't start it, papa. They were calling me names. I didn't want them to do that. So I punched them. Lo siento." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she tried her best not to look at him.

He was about to ask what names she'd been called when the principal's assistant opened the door. "Mr. Velasco, come inside, your wife is waiting with the principal." For fear of bursting out in rage in front of his daughter, he didn't correct the woman. Instead, he kissed the top of Sofia's head, then got up and followed the woman inside.

You could see the anger in his eyes as soon as you looked at him. "Where are the kids who started this?!" He asked, glaring at the principal.

"I'm sorry? You must've had this all mixed up. Your daughter is the one who punched those kids."

Joe didn't bother to sit down, opting to stand by the door and look at the two of you. "Did you ever stop to wonder why she did it? Of course not.

You were just as confused as the principal was. "Joe--"

"They called her names. I want to know what else they've done because my daughter's first response is never violence. I've taught her better than that!"

At this, you got out of your chair too, "names?! What names?!" You demanded to know.

"It does not matter. What matters is we do not condone violence at this school Mrs. and Mr. Velasco--"

"What. Names?!" You asked again, sure that your anger was now equal to your best friend's anger.

The principal started scribbling on a piece of paper, stammering about how it should not be repeated, then handed it to you. As soon as you read it you wanted to tear it up before Joe could see it, knowing it would blow up if he saw it.

"The names, y/n, let me see the names!" Joe stated through gritted teeth.

You didn't want to show it, simply putting it in your pocket and turning to the principal. "Either punish those kids or face a lawsuit--your call sir."

"You can--"

"What she did was just the tip of the iceberg, and I absolutely can. Because what they have done to her could very well be considered a hate crime, and you covering them and punishing our daughter just makes you complicit."

It was Joe's turn to be surprised.

"So how long were you planning on punishing her?"

"Tw--two weeks--suspensions--"

"No. Try again." You grab your phone, ready to call a favor at the Hate Crimes unit.

"One week--"

Shaking your head you started dialing the number, keeping eye contact with him.

"After school detention--two days--" "That's better." You locked your phone and put it in your pocket, "And if I hear anything about the other kids not being punished, or if anything like this happens again, you know what will happen."

He nodded his head, fear in his eyes.

~~~

Leaving the office you went straight to Sofia, picking her up and hugging her tightly. "I'm so sorry I got angry, baby. I should've listened to your first. Forgive me."

As soon as she was in your arms she started to cry, hugging you tightly. Joe coming over to hug the two of you as well.

"How about we go get Javi as well, then we can go for ice cream and ice your hand a little too." You suggested.

The little girl nodded at that, hugging you again. "Papa, will you stay too?"

"I'll make some calls and then I'll be here with you all."

~~~

Tagging:

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#my writing #law and order svu #joe velasco #joe velasco x reader

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (pt. 6)

“we’ll figure out the nitty-gritty along the way,” serena once said. but never once did she mention anything about figuring out this alien feeling mason got whenever she was concerned.

playboy!mason x princess!OC wc: 2.2k tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but particularly extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this particular chapter note: i'm sorry this chapter doesn't contain spoilers as i've mentioned in the previous one. things changed as i was writing this down but i hope you like this one the same! <3 but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is not beta-read yet. tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 @myreveriie @808heartz <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!) < part 5 - part 7 > sweetest devotion masterlist

“please let me know—”

mason was pacing back and forth, making sure everything was within his sister’s sight, especially serena’s meds, so when serena woke up, jasmine would be able to reach them without difficulty, considering her growing stomach.

“mason tony mount,” and the called man halted his steps. “stop moving this instance.”

the youngest of four didn’t have much choice other than to follow the instruction. the last time jasmine announced his full name, he was called out for having a mistress. whom, ironically at that time, he’d gladly choose over serena, and look where the blind devotion had gotten him into.

“you moving around doesn’t help my nausea so dear god, please help this bloody pregnant woman and stop moving,” jasmine sat down on the nearest sofa, huffing out her palpable frustration. “I know the drill of being caretaker, okay? now go,”

right, the sole reason of mason calling jasmine for help.

he could be walking away freely like he wasn’t accountable, because serena being admitted to the hospital wasn’t his wrongdoing anyway. but ask anyone in the nurse station and they’d gush over how much of a good husband mason mount was.

you could barely find him outside of serena’s room, except to go to the training ground or fetching his own portion of food, and he’d always drop something by on the nurse station’s desk whenever he came back from them. and whenever it was time for a nurse or doctor’s visit, they’d find the husband recounting what happened at work to the wife, who’d listen attentively and respond accordingly. he’d take her for a stroll to the garden at the back of the hospital before the sun set too, as per the doctor’s recommendation, complete with jackets and warm drinks sat underneath the wheelchair.

but no matter how much he played the dutiful husband the past days, he was still an active footballer by the end of the day. going for an away match was inevitable, thus the reason why his sister was in the hospital now.

jasmine didn’t know the reason why, and mason hadn’t bothered to say anything else other than “serena hasn’t been feeling well”. technically he wasn’t lying, but one look at the nasty blue marks on serena’s cheeks was more than enough of an explanation for jasmine. certainly it wasn’t mason because his brother didn’t have it in him to hit a dangerous animal, let alone a woman, but the older mount wasn’t expecting an answer until either serena or mason was ready to give her one.

what happens in one’s household should stay inside, they say.

“text me if something—”

“happens, yes, I know, mase,” jasmine clicked her tongue as she rolled her eyes, obviously in annoyance. “I thought you didn’t care about serena?”

right, the sole reason of mason calling jasmine for help.

aside from his initial worry, he thought jasmine would be the safest option to ask for help because, by far, she was the only one who knew about his extramarital affair—or at least, who admitted to mason that she knew about it and voiced her honest opinion on the matter.

yet, she hadn’t said anything since then and his entire family hadn’t cut off his ears by berating him, so surely jasmine also hadn’t spilled a thing to the rest of his kin. it was within his intuition to trust serena’s life in her hands while he was away because surely jasmine wouldn’t drop anything that could possibly worsen serena’s condition, especially anything in relation to elena.

if anything, jasmine was the first person mason should apologise to—other than serena, of course—because he hadn’t been listening well. he remembered clearly, much to his own dismay, of his annoyance when jasmine particularly called him out about elena, only for him to accuse her of being unsupportive sister when she was anything but.

“oh shit,” the silence mason entertained was enough of a reason for jasmine to sit up, now fully interested at the turn of events. “what changes?”

“please, no more foul language around my little niece,” mason sighed. from a third point of view, it was a deep breath let out to emphasis one’s frustration. but jasmine knew better, she knew her brother. “why are you smiling?”

“nothing,” jasmine hummed rather cheerily, her eyes glinting something dangerous mason didn’t want to find out yet. “just what changes, mase?”

another sigh coming from jasmine’s other end. her brother could be seen pinching the bridge of his nose, in hope to soothe his invisible confusion. confused as to how to answer his own sister because he truly didn’t know the answer.

what changed? everything.

nothing changed yet everything changed, if that made sense. but nothing was making sense in mason’s standard currently.

yet everything was making sense in jasmine’s standard. “do you love her?”

“no,” that much, mason could give out. “of course not.”

“do you like her?”

“yes,” that much, mason could give out. who didn’t like serena? aside from him, a thousand of eldorran people could vouch on their soft spot towards the princess. “if not, I wouldn’t be marrying her.”

jasmine smiled wider. she might not know whatever reason his stupid brother married the youngest monarch in the first place, but mason’s answer was enough.

at least for now.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

what jasmine didn’t know was that mason had asked serena’s stay to be prolonged until he had elena under control. aka, being under police custody.

it was a rather long legal process to get her taken by the authority, and it was still an ongoing battle. so he didn’t want to risk it, not when he had two lives to protect now, until he knew all of them were able to breathe safely without being hunted by an unwanted ghost of the past.

the only people currently allowed to enter mason’s premise were only him and the house’s caretaker he’d entrusted with since the first time he moved here. maybe even longer, since she’d also worked for the previous owner. but it was also because she left the house when she was done with her work—he’d never felt so lucky she refused his offer to become a live-in caretaker a long time ago, or else mason surely had fired her too as he didn’t want to risk her life as well.

“the duffel bag for your wife is by the door, mr. mount,” the caretaker lady spoke up as mason entered the kitchen, ready to ask of her another plate of his favourite cheat meal. “please let me know if you need anything else.

“thank you, sam,” and he was truly grateful sam stayed behind the past couple of days, just until mason left the house after getting fresh set of clothes, because he didn’t know what to do about serena’s wardrobe if he was left alone. he didn’t want to intrude serena’s privacy just yet, not even when he’d be forgiven if he told her the reason why. “but could you make me that broccoli fusilli with cheese you always store in the fridge? I haven’t had the chance to grab a meal.”

“broccoli fusilli?”

mason looked up from his seat, puzzled. “yes, you usually wrap them with clear foil with some other dishes,”

maybe mason should start feeling less lucky sam previously refused to become a live-in caretaker. there were too many things that he started not knowing of ever since serena lived under the same roof as his, things that sam could’ve told him if she’d come to live with him.

when sam didn’t move from her spot, mason braved himself to ask the multimillion dollar question. “didn’t you make all those food?”

“no, mr. mount,” the older woman shook her head, as confused as he was. “your wife never lets me touch the kitchen since you both got married. it’s all her cooking.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

since sam’s last words, mason hadn’t been the same person as he was when he returned to his house from the hospital earlier that afternoon. mason hadn’t been the same person—heck, mason hadn’t been a person at all during the entire trip to the away game.

he recalled having the fridge always stocked. with his favourite snacks, beverages, and beers—a chore he remembered giving to sam on the earliest days of the caretaker. the frozen and wrapped dishes he’d like to warm up whenever he came by the house after spending his time with elena in her home, was indeed only recently, but he never expected them to be made and left there by his wife. he only thought sam was having extra energy of some sort to cook too much for two—serena and herself—that she left some for him to heat up later.

what else did serena do for him?

“what’s bothering you, lad?”

ben chilwell’s voice snapped mason’s thoughts into a wreckage, but mason could say he needed it. they were coming on shortly, for god’s sake. “nothing, just my wife.”

“I thought you don’t have a wife?” ben’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. the left back remembered vividly mason’s admission to not having a wife yet because that title was supposedly reserved for elena. now that the other lady was tangled in a legal battle—one mason didn’t bother telling him of, by the way, that he had to find out from their common friend’s mouths—ben wondered who mason might be referring to. “do you have another mistress or something?”

if mason pulled the rug under his feet, ben was more than ready to chase the younger man down the bloody hall.

“no! of course not!” mason shook his head off rather violently, expressing his extreme distaste towards ben’s accusation. “I mean, serena.”

“how’s she, by the way?” despite sharing mutuals with elena, ben couldn’t help but become concerned towards the princess this time around. “I hope she’s getting better.”

“she is, thanks for asking,” mason threw his best friend the “formal” smile because while he was happy serena had indeed been getting better, he wouldn’t know how to make of their impending situation when he got back. “it’s just that... I don’t know, mate. I can’t believe still that elena could do such thing.”

“no one saw that coming, mase,” ben patted down mason’s knees, giving him a reassurance smile, letting the fan’s favourite know he shared the same sentiment. “don’t fret so much about it.”

“I thought she was the one, you know?” mason let out another deep sigh, a developing habit he vowed to eradicate soon, as he tied his shoes tighter. “maybe she still is.”

“if you think she is, you need to get rid of serena,” ben crouched down to put his shinpad in place. “you know that, right?”

“I do, but I can’t seem to do that to her. not after what elena did to her,” mason’s statement actually halted ben’s movement for a split second because it was all a lot to take in, honestly. “maybe I’ll purse elena again after I’ve got it sorted with serena.”

“so is it elena or serena?”

ben was expecting mason to give him a straight, direct answer but a hesitant mason was not in the cards, at all. if someone told ben about this side of mason a month ago, he would’ve laughed at their face.

“forget I asked,” ben was honestly scared of the thought mason changing overnight, not when he knew the younger footballer had been head over heels with his model, muse—whatever it is he calls her with—since the first time he laid his eyes on her. “why do you care so much about serena anyway?”

ben’s question might be simple but it was enough to stun mason in his place.

why do you care so much about her?

at that precise moment, his phone vibrated in his hands. rather violently, compared to the empty state of his mind, but speaking of the devil…

good luck for today.

same text, from the same person, on the same time. sent impeccably 30 minutes before match, just right before the gaffer’s pre-match brief.

mason didn’t know he was holding a bated breath but as he read the text once more, a small smile crept into his face. it was the text he’d been waiting for. even though he didn’t always reply to them, she never missed out on telling him what she was up to—always watching him from home was what she was conveying.

not even elena managed to pull out a routine such as.

and that was when mason knew he had the answer to ben’s earlier question; because she cares about him, always has.

it was only right to reciprocate it, no?

“I hope that’s not the guilt speaking,” mason looked up to the older englishman, who patted his shoulder just now as he looked over mason’s shoulder, only to find the text from serena. “you were so adamant to propose elena a month ago, remember?”

the word guilt rang in mason’s ears more violently than an earthquake ever could.

next chapter contains:

“mason, what are you doing here?” “I’m making sure no one barges into the house and attack you again.”

#mason mount #mason mount series #masoun mount angst #mason mount fluff #mason mount x oc #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #footballer x oc #footie fics #football fanfic #oh-saints writes

[sphynxrpmemes]

Family Planning pt. 2 || Pregnancy & Birth

TW: Obvious warning for medical, blood, vomit, etc. I have not included any poor outcome type prompts in this so that anyone that doesn’t prefer the darker, angsty routes can skip. If that's something people want to see, let me know. Be sure to specify in the tags if you’re looking to avoid certain prompts, lovelies! Obviously feel free to adjust them as needed to suit your needs 💜 💜 💜

“If I have to go clothes shopping one more time, I’m going to just move to a nudist colony.”

“Wait- that didn’t make you feel sick? Are you starting to feel better?”

“When did you want to start telling everyone else?”

“No, no, if we don’t tell my mom before friends and coworkers, I will never hear the end of it till I’m dead.”

“Just so you know, if I end up in jail, it’s because one more person I don’t know touched my stomach.”

“So pregnancy brain is apparently actually a thing. I left my phone in the refrigerator and couldn’t find it for hours.”

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I seem to have misheard you, I could have sworn you said 'there's more than one in there'..."

“Oh. Oh no. No way. That is a name that says ‘Hi, my parents hated me and wanted me to be bullied, would you like to give me a wedgie?’“

“Have you felt any movement yet?”

“I don’t know if I’m feeling movement? It might just be gas from my stomach being messed up all the time.”

“I think I’m finally showing? Tell me I’m showing!”

“Is this a trick request? Are you going to then get mad at me for implying you’re showing?”

"I can't reach my feet to put on my shoes. Being pregnant sucks."

"Sleep now while you can, they say. What sleep? How is anyone sleeping with this much activity going on inside them?"

"Pass me those headphones you don't use anymore. I'm cranking up Mozart and this kid is going to sleep so help me."

"Did you get any sleep at all last night? Seemed like you did nothing but get up for the bathroom."

"Remind me again why I said I wanted kids? Because I forgot."

"Remember how I said I wanted nothing to do with sex? Yeah, well, hormones say otherwise now. The complete opposite, in fact. When are you getting home?"

"I'm not going to hurt you or the baby?"

"You are worth spoiling, and it's not even spoiling, it's just me helping my partner while they're pregnant."

"No, that's a hideous nursery color. We will see enough of that color elsewhere."

"I didn't know having a baby in a hospital cost so much, holy shit."

"See, this is why we should have moved to Europe, better parental leave and healthcare."

"This isn't the movies, your water doesn't break in a bucket load."

"You're making a face, baby good?"

"It's just false contractions, I'm fine. Promise."

"Oh no, I don't do genital reveal parties, that's just...so weird."

"You look stunning, I promise. Pregnancy glow is not a myth."

"Why is there a Switch in the go-bag?"

"So my parents wanted to be in the delivery room..."

"Absolutely not. Your mom is not getting to know me that well."

"You will manage just fine. You're not the world's first single parent."

"So that was definitely a contraction."

"I'll time them. You want me to get you anything?"

"I get you're not jumped up to leave, but if we don't, I feel like you're going to end up having the baby in the car on the freeway."

"You don't have to stick to the plan, you know. It's okay to say you want the pain relief. Either way, I'm here."

"I'm good, I'm Gucci, I- oh my god I want drugs! Now!"

"My hand can take it, promise."

"Those cries- it feels like that was an eternity."

"They have your eyes already, I'm in trouble."

"Nine pounds? No wonder it took so long!"

"Is it normal for babies to be this bald?"

"I needed you at the appointment. They- there- there wasn't a heartbeat on

"I told you so. Look at this tiny person, you did it!"

"No, please, you hold them. I feel shakier than a leaf."

"I could pick that face out of a hundred babies if I needed to. I've only been staring at it in awe for the past three hours."

"I did not know one that small could be that loud!"

#rp meme #rp sentence meme #roleplay meme #rp memes #sentence starter meme #roleplay memes #askbox meme #inbox memes #inbox meme #pregnancy memes #pregnancy meme #starter sentences #sentence starter memes #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp starter meme #rp starter #pregnancy tw #tokophobia tw #medical tw

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - pt.3

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, most of this chapter is all Wonwoo's pov, Wonwoo goes on a date with someone else. ⌦ Word count: 3.07k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than the last two but a lot happens to push the plot forward. It's really random that I put skz in here but I needed someone who had a sister. Fun fact about me, cause it's brought up in this chapter: I'm allergic to apples. The end of this chapter almost had a bitch crying at 4 am. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines

⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

⌦(Wonwoo's pov) It had been a little while since he had heard from you; granted, you had never gone longer than a month without needing him to clean up your messes. This new-found silence from being your knight in shining armor allowed him to begin streaming again. For awhile, he had stopped because your calls of need would come in at least 4-5 times a week.

To say he missed you would be an understatement; he would lie awake after a long night of streaming, waiting for his phone to ring so he could pick you up. After three weeks of no calls, he began to believe that you had fully forgotten about him, all because of a little spat that he could've handled better. He had plans to express how he felt about you, but the world had different plans that day. Maybe you two just weren't meant to be friends anymore.

Wonwoo had tried to take his mind off things; he would distract himself by playing video games until the sun went down. That night, like every other night, he stayed up to play online with a few friends.

"If I die one more time because you're not paying attention, I'm gonna strangle you," Vernon threatened through Wonwoo's headphones. To be honest, Wonwoo was a little distracted today; he kept glancing down at his phone, hoping for a call, a text, or something.

"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind," Wonwoo replied, the sounds of his mouse clicking and keys clacking filling his room and his eyes beginning to grow tired from staring at such a bright screen for an extended period of time.

"Woo, you need to let her go. She's clearly not interested in your friendship and hasn't been for awhile," Minghao said. If Minghao were talking to anyone else, they surely would've been offended, appalled that he could say something so cold so calmly, but Wonwoo appreciated his honesty; he wouldn't want Minghao to be any other way.

"I agree with Hao; you should put yourself out there; stop waiting for someone who isn't hurting without you," Seungcheol chimed in, everyone having paused their game to give Wonwoo some free therapy while they sat in the Fortnite lobby.

"Are you guys suggesting a date?" Wonwoo asked, pushing his glasses up as he put his hands on his face, muffling his question just a bit.

"Well, I wasn't, but I know someone who'd be great for you," Seungcheol said. He could hear the shrug in his voice, playing matchmaker so nonchalantly. "I'll send you her info; she thinks you're cute anyway," he added. Within seconds, his words were emphasized by the sound of Wonwoo getting a text message. He glanced at the notification, half hoping it was from you and half hoping it wasn't.

It wasn't.

Wonwoo opened his phone, seeing that Seungcheol had sent her Instagram profile along with her phone number. He clicked on the link, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through the professionally taken photos that filled the girl's profile.

"She is really cute," Wonwoo said, clicking on a few photos. There was a familiar face in a few of the photos, though they looked too much alike to be anything more than siblings.

"Seungcheol, is this Chan's sister?" Wonwoo asked, zooming in on one of the photos to get a better look at the girl's alleged brother.

"Bang Chan?" Seungcheol asked.

"Yea, Bang Chan,"

"Yea, why?"

"Just curious," Wonwoo said. He chewed on his bottom lip as he swiped back into his messaging app, looking down at the series of numbers Seungcheol had given him. "You said she thinks I'm cute?"

"Yeah, she talks about you all the time at work," Seungcheol said.

"Well, I'll text her when we get off. Wanna go for one more round?" Wonwoo asked, setting his phone down and getting ready to unpause the game.

"Sounds good," everyone said, continuing with their match.

One game turned into two.

Two games turned into four.

4 turned into 6.

By the time Wonwoo looked at the clock on the PC that displayed his Discord server, he was shocked.

3:26 a.m.

Wonwoo must have really had a lot on his mind; he never stayed up this late, not unless you had needed his help. He yawned, stretching his back when they were back to the games lobby, cracking his neck as it had grown stiff from sitting hunched over a keyboard for so long.

"I think I'm gonna get off guys, I'm getting tired," he said, not waiting for them to object before closing the game and turning his headphones, mic, and pc's off. Wonwoo grabbed his phone as he got up, walking to his closet to grab a pair of night pants and changing into them.

He unlocked his phone, looking at the number again as he began brushing his teeth. After a moment of hesitation, he finally added Hannah's contact information to his phone, messaging her as soon as he finished brushing his teeth.

⌦ Wonwoo: Hey, it's Wonwoo. I know this is super random, but Seungcheol gave me your number, if that's okay.

Wonwoo didn't expect an immediate answer; it was almost 4:00 in the morning. He looked at the unopened message as he left the bathroom, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning off the light. His phone dinged as soon as he walked into his room, and he only opened it once he had lied down in bed.

⌦ 3:55 a.m.

⌦ Hannah: Hey, Wonwoo! It's totally chill; why're you up so late? (Read 3:55 a.m.)

Wonwoo found himself smiling at her message and answering immediately.

⌦Wonwoo: I could ask you the same thing, lol. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But I was playing Fortnite with Cheol and a few other friends and lost track of time. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: That sounds like a lot of fun. (Read: 4:00a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Why did Cheol give you my number anyway? (read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Uh, he's trying to play matchmaker. (Read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Right (Read: 4:01 a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Well, what are you doing tomorrow? (Read: 4:01 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Nothing as of right now. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: Why are you trying to ask me out? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Yea. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Hannah: How's coffee sound tomorrow at noon? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: You're straight to the point, aren't you? lol (Read: 4:03 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But, noon tomorrow sounds great! (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Great, I'll send you the cafe's info tomorrow. I'm about to fall asleep (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Awesome, sleep well (Delivered: 4:04 a.m.)

Wonwoo reread the small interaction he had with Bang Chan's sister, smiling softly as he put his phone on the charger. He turned off his light, took his glasses off, and went to bed.

⌦(Wonwoo's POV cont) Wonwoo was thankful for his habitual routine of waking up at 9:00 a.m. every morning, regardless of when he went to bed. He forgot to set an alarm, having fallen asleep as soon as he put his glasses on his nightstand. Waking up this early gave him a few hours to kill before he had to get around, creating a schedule in his head for how long it would take him to eat breakfast, take a shower, shave, get dressed, and drive to the cafe. He planned on being 15 minutes early; he was always early.

Hannah had already sent Wonwoo the address of the cafe; thankfully, it was only a fifteen-minute drive from his apartment complex with traffic. He ate a light breakfast of two pieces of toast and a glass of apple juice; he'd be damned if he were going to willingly drink orange juice. He rarely ate toast, but with few food ingredients in his fridge or cabinet, toast was his only option.

With thirty minutes to spare after getting ready, Wonwoo grabbed his keys, locking his door as he left to go to his car. Hannah was already at the cafe when he got there, sitting in her car as she waited. Wonwoo parked next to her, pulling out his phone to let her know he was there. When she looked up from her phone, he waved at her with a smile, stepping out of her car to greet her on the sidewalk.

"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it," Hannah smiled as she pulled the taller male into a hug. Wonwoo was stunned at first; she surely was a bold woman, which he seemed to like about her.

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, hugging her back for a moment before they pulled away and walked into the cafe.

It was a small cafe owned by a sweet elderly couple from France. The cafe always had French music playing softly through the store speakers; normally, Wonwoo would have found it nice and cozy, but today it felt cheesy. The two sat down after having ordered their drinks, exposing the poor barista to a small argument over who was paying for their drinks. Hannah won.

"So, tell me about yourself." Hannah smiled, taking a sip from her cappuccino before moving it to the side of the table so she could place her elbows on it, letting her chest rest against her forearms.

"There's not much to know," Wonwoo chuckled, swirling his straw around in his Americano and watching the ice move around with it. "But I'm in college for mechanical engineering, I stream on Twitch sometimes, and I'm a big Marvel buff," he said after a moment.

"Mechanical engineering? So you're smart and cute, huh?" Hannah teased, smiling at the redness that grew on Wonwoo's cheeks from her compliment.

"Tell me about yourself," Wonwoo said, directing the conversation back to the original topic.

"Well, I'm in college for fashion design; I also really like Marvel; and I want to get into PC gaming," she said. Wonwoo looked up at her, stunned that Seungcheol had finally set him up with a girl who shared some of his same interests, and he was already friends with her brother.

Wonwoo was pulled out of his thoughts as his phone rang in his pocket. He looked down at his pants and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Your name and contact photo were displayed on his screen; seeing this made his smile drop slightly. He clicked the side button, silencing the call, before looking up at the girl he was on a date with. "Sorry about that; I thought I put my phone on silent," he said as he placed it back into his pocket.

"It's no problem; if it's important, you can step out and answer it; I won't be upset," Hannah said, gesturing to the window that the two were sitting by. Wonwoo shook his head.

"It wasn't, and besides, it'd be rude to answer a call on our first date," he said.

"And you're considerate? Well damn, I might ask you to marry me right here," she laughed. She stood up after a moment, and in that moment, Wonwoo half expected her to get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. Instead, she grabbed her coffee with one hand and his hand with the other, pulling him up from his seat. "Wanna go on a walk?" She asked, swaying their hands back and forth.

"Are you gonna murder me?" Wonwoo asked, grabbing his coffee from the table.

"I might," she winked, sipping her cappuccino once more.

"At least you're honest," Wonwoo chuckled. His phone began to ring again once they left the building. He looked at it and canceled the phone call.

"Wonwoo, if you need to answer that, I don't mind," Hannah reassured as they began walking along the pathway.

"I don't, I promise." He said.

The walk was nice, and Wonwoo and Hannah seemed to be getting along a lot better than he would have ever imagined. It didn't take long for it to start raining. May's weather was never consistent, which seemed to be the only consistent thing in Wonwoo's life. Inconsistency. Wonwoo had given Hannah his sweater as they walked back to their cars; only when Hannah safely got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot did he leave.

He looked at his phone for a moment, seeing that he had five missed calls and ten messages from you, asking for your help. He almost answered the texts, apologizing that he was busy and couldn't get to his phone. Just as he was about to send his text, he sighed, thinking about what his friends had told him only 12 hours ago. Instead of sending the text, he closed his phone and drove home.

⌦(Reader's POV) You groaned angrily when your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering? Was he still mad? Your head began spinning, even though you couldn't tell if it was because of your impaired state or because Wonwoo was finally giving you a taste of your own medicine. You had ghosted Wonwoo for the better half of your freshman year of college, having found new friends and devoting all of your weekends to partying, so when you finally got ahold of him, he was shocked.

"He works from home; where is he?" You said it angrily, your plethora of messages having been delivered but unread for the better part of two hours. That was what really set you off. He couldn't even give you the respect to apologize.

Against your better judgment, you snatched the keys from your kitchen counter and stumbled out of your apartment, having decided to confront him at his apartment. You've had a few years of practice when it came to driving under the influence, taking back roads, watching the road extra carefully, and driving cautiously, it was easy. Parking your car, you stormed up to his apartment, noting that his car wasn't in the parking lot when you had gotten there.

You called him again.

and again.

and again.

Until finally, you gave up on calling him and decided to send him a hundred more text messages.

⌦You: Wonwoo, I need your help... (Delivered: 11:00 a.m.)

⌦12:45 p.m.

⌦You: Wonwoo, why aren't you answering me??? (Delivered: 12:46 p.m.)

⌦12:57 p.m.

⌦You: Hello? Where are you??? (Delivered: 12:58 p.m.)

⌦1:05 p.m.

⌦You: I'm at your place (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.) ⌦You: Hello!!!!! (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.)

Just as you were about to call him again, you saw that all of your delivered messages had been read. You watched as the three dots by Wonwoo's name appeared.

Then disappeared.

Appeared again.

Until they disappeared for a final time.

Your texts to Wonwoo began to be sent one right after the other, sitting with your back against his front door as you drunkenly blew up his phone. Fifteen minutes had passed before you saw a pair of feet standing in front of you. You looked up and saw the man in question.

Angrily, you stood up shoving your phone in his face as you began to speak.

"I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours now! Where were you?!" You yelled, and Wonwoo gently pushed your phone out of his face. He looked down, unlocking his front door before opening it to let you in. He waited for you to walk inside, quietly apologizing to his elderly neighbor before stepping inside himself.

"I got coffee," he said, setting his keys on the table by his front door and taking his shoes off.

"It took you two hours to get coffee." You asked in disbelief, crossing your arms as your blurred vision did its best to lock onto him.

"You didn't let me finish," he continued. He sat the now-empty to-go cup on his kitchen counter. "I was on a date."

Your heart dropped, and you weren't sure why either. He was only your friend, your shoulder to cry on, and your emergency contact because you knew he would bend over backwards for you.

"Oh," you said.

"Yea."

"You still could have answered after she left," you said. Your anger had softened just a little bit.

"Why? So I can pick your drunk ass up from some stranger's front lawn? It's 2:30, and you're already fucked up." He said, "Your jaw dropped. What was his deal? Why was he being like this?

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you being such a dick all of a sudden?" You asked.

"Because I'm tired of only seeing my best friend when she needs me to be her chauffeur because her other friends left her strung out on God knows what in some stranger's bathroom because she's too drunk to get home." He said. You could see that his words were hurting him just as much as they were hurting you; he wasn't making eye contact with you either. "I can't drop everything to come save you every time you need me; I have a life too," he said. This time his words were soft, almost upset that he'd finally told you how he really felt.

"Fine. I'll leave then." You said this, stepping toward the door only to have the pathway blocked off. "Wonwoo, get out of my way."

"No, I can't let you drive home like this," he said.

"Wonwoo. Get out of my way." You repeated. He didn't move.

"No," He said.

"Now you care about my safety?"

"I've always cared about your safety!"

"Evidently not; evidently it was a burden to you!"

"Do you know why I always dropped everything to come get you?" He snapped.

"To feel better about yourself?" You asked, your words laced with anger. Your eyes began brimming with tears, and your body began to shake. You need to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Because I love you, y/n!" Wonwoo snapped back. He stopped for a second, realizing what he had just said.

"What?" You asked, finally looking up at him.

"I love you.. and it kills me that you're killing yourself like this, but I can't be around you anymore if you're going to continue to hurt yourself. I will always love you, y/n; I hope you know that." He said this, grabbing his keys off the table once more. "Let's go; I'll take you home." You were sure this would be the last time you'd ever hear from him again.

#wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo svt #wonwoo fanf #wonwoo im #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo angst #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #svt #vernon #hoshi #minghao #woozi #scoups #jeonghan #junhui #mingyu #joshua #seukmin #seungkwan #chan

[andromedaexists]

Hell Followed With Us || Andrew Joseph White

★★★☆☆ ½

TW: BODY HORROR, TRANSPHOBIA, SACRILEGE, NO REALLY THERE'S A LOT OF BODY HORROR IT'S KINDA GROSS

Let me start off by saying that this book means a lot to someone who means a lot to me. By nature, this means that I have a soft spot for the book.

However, that does not stop me from forming an opinion on it.

Okay so first things first: I read this book in two days. It is a very captivating read. I was very easily sucked into the story and became intruiged by the character.

First one up is the main character: Benji. It is refreshing to see a trans masc main character especially in a horror book. As soon as he showed up in the text i felt protective over him. He is a newly out trans boy that is 16, I've adopted plenty of those in my run as the trans town elder (yes I'm only 23, that's what you get living where I do)

I also really liked that there were other types of gender identities shown. This book is a cesspit of diversity and representation: I love it!

However, there is one character that I have qualms with when it comes to his representation. One of the love interests: Nick. He is an autistic gay man, but as I said to my group chat last night, I just don't like the representation he's giving us.

I say this as an autistic trans gay man: I do not like the way he is portrayed. Autism is a spectrum, everyone reacts to things differently. However, he is written in a way that feels like every bad autistic trope from mass media mushed together. He very much reads the same as that one autistic doctor from the tv show that was always over logical and showed no emotion ever. The Good Doctor, that's what it's called.

Not only that, but he refers to Benji, a newly out trans man who is going through horrific body horror to the point of literally calling himself a monster, as Seraph and uses it/its pronouns for him. After Benji explicitly says he uses he/him. Now, as you all know, I have nothing against using it/its pronouns and will gladly do so, but doing it in this manner is misgendering and dehumanizing. There is a difference between wanting to use those pronouns and being called them behind your back after you explicitly state you do not want to be referred to using them.

And this whole this was Nick's redemption arc. His entire redemption arc was about calling Benji 'it' and then saying sorry. Then it's over and never mentioned again. Just like that.

And then, to make things worse, the other love interest (because, yes, this is in fact a love triangle) is Benji's abusive fiance. An abusive fiance that tries to kill him on more than one occasion. So you have to choose between that piece of garbage and someone who doesn't get redeemed.

As y'all can tell, I'm a little incensed at this book. "But Andi," I hear you say, "you gave the book 3.5 stars? It doesn't sound like you enjoyed it that much."

Well here's the thing: I actually really enjoyed it. I loved the story line, I loved the sacrilege and body horror, I loved how tense I was reading the entire story.

I think the writing was clumsy and too fast paced, but the plot line was there. I also loved how visceral the descriptions were. Like, this is Dead Dove: Do Not Eat levels of body horror and viscera.

It was great! I think it should have gone through a few more rounds of drafts and editing before it got published, and someone should have told Andrew that the love interests are both living pieces of human garbage, but all in all it was a good book. Oh, and the dust cover is beautiful.

I won't recommend it to anyone though.

I am planning on writing little things like this every time I read a book just to help me keep track of them. If I don’t write down my opinions and thoughts right away I am liable to forget them. I am hesitant to call these a review because i’m really just not comfy with that lol I will do my best to make sure I appropriately tag and warn about topics. If I miss any please let me know!

#TW: Body Horror #TW: Transphobia #tw: religious themes #bookblr #booklr #andi reads #book review #Hell Followed With Us #trans rights readathon #lgbt literature #queer books

[starrygender]

🌊Turbulent Waters🌊

🫥Debriefing our Whereabouts🫥

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

We are moving out in a few days because we cannot afford our living situation, and we will become homeless for the time being. We will move to a shelter that is a city away because they are the nearest shelter that supports us LGBT folk. V's mother will be going elsewhere, thankfully.

We have several bags and a pillow to carry on our person.

Our body is weak and it's a huge strain.

We have no money, but we will make it.

V has two uncles and an aunt to crash with. We will then be driven to the capital. That is where the shelter is.

It might be a while before we have internet again, but when we do, if anyone is willing to help, we can send you our "P@¥p@|" [censored to avoid censorship/deletion, as we aren't sure if Tumblr does that or not]. We will take money for commissions as well, if that helps. We can send examples of our art and how long something you'd want would usually take [give or take a few days].

Sorry to beg, but any donations or commissions are appreciated.

Also, please do not reblog using tags that might flag this post [if Tumblr does such a thing].

We might post a few genders or other identities before we leave. We will not leave forever, but assume we're in semi-haitus from now on. Requests will be open during this time, but, of course, you wont get a flag immediately. Please be patient.

🫡

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Vent TW

If only this body was as strong as we wish it could be, as moving out is extremely difficult for us physically. Alas, our deficiencies and other issues are deemed our fault, so we do not get help, no matter how debilitating.

I am not used to being fat as a [now] former Diamond Dog, I've never been fat, but I am of the belief that, no matter how much of it is someones fault, that it should still be treated with care, similar to a disability. Clearly we are not disabled, but we do lack ability due to our size among other things, and that shouldn't be treated with hostility.

Similarly, our body is somewhat hydrophobic. Not in the medical sense, we just cant stand to drink water on its own. That plus a soda addiction, makes things very hard. We are dehydrated, and while that is our fault, we should not be ridiculed for it when we are pushing our body to its limit.

Maybe this isn't the right way to think about it, and that is a fault of my own. I just think inability, whether its disability or something as simple as weakness should be treated with similar care, and they shouldn't be harshly criticized no matter who is at fault. Even if it isn't permanent or requires work to undo I think tending to folks with lesser ability in some areas is a good thing. Forgive my wording if it's incorrect or off, I am getting old and I don't know all the words. Oh my god, how old am I technically? ...Dear god, I'm 90 by today's standards! I'm glad we don't tend to age anymore...

V's mother also will not use our collective pronouns, nor V's pronouns at the very least. He/him is not that hard to use. We all can use, or at least don't mind he/him. There is a 50/50 chance for V's mother to use Oliver [V is short for Oliver] or his deadname.

Veil... A good codename, if I were still in a life of war. That's his codename for emergencies now. I've decided it. For more serious use, I'll keep a secret one in mind, though I doubt it will be needed. Can't ever be too cautious.

🫡

#not genda #shiver talks #shiver diary #<< ahab #🫡 #update #life update

[a-tiny-speck-of-dust]

have you ever wondered what the sound of a broken heart is like?

Word count: 1,8K

Note: I've been keeping this fic locked in my basement for idk how long at this point. This supposed to be the backstory of one of my ocs for a personal writing project I'm currently working on. But, later on, I read it and was like "Hey, this isn't so bad! I think we can post it somewhere" so I decided to post it here on my dusty tumblr. Please be nice bcs this is the first fic I ever posted here, and do tell me just in case there are any tw that I missed and/or should be added to the tags. Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance in case there are any mistakes. I hope you will enjoy this story as much as I do and everyone has a great day/night ahead. Love, Lan ❤️

---

ps: Since I briefly mention the term Handlers and Entities from my personal writing project, I'd explain it shortly here:

Handler - a human with supernatural power under an organization specialized in dealing with malevolent Entities.

Entities - the umbrella term I used to call supernatural being.

---

The life of an immortal is a life of boredom. At least, that’s what I thought after witnessing countless sunsets and sunrises my whole life as a shrine guardian.

I have served the gods and helped humans with their seemingly endless problems. I gained a few tails for bringing honor to the gods by helping humans and lost some for playing tricks on them.

Good times.

But, people come and go. Time has changed and the gods are long forgotten, while I’m trapped in time and remain the same.

These days it feels easier to live as a fox. Food has never been a problem and having an entire shrine to myself isn't as bad as I once imagined. Things get quiet, though, when the youngsters decide that it is not a good time for a ghost-hunting night. They're all pretty amusing.

Old people visit the shrine occasionally, trying their best to preserve a tradition that is beyond saving. Some bring their grandchildren, but that’s most likely to be their first and last time visiting.

I did remember one kid. A little girl who seemed interested in everything around the shrine. There was a time when her grandmother took her to the shrine every weekend for a few years. Then one day they left and never came back. Shortly after, I heard that the grandmother passed away and the girl returned to the city with her parents.

We immortals were accustomed to losing something or someone permanently. So, I never thought I would ever see you walk into my shrine's gate again.

But, you did.

You looked different. How long has it been since your last visit? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare to scare you away. Not when the gods gave me a chance to see you once again.

The curiosity in your eyes was still the same as before. But I can see more than just curiosity in there. I just don't know what it is.

Despair? Hope?

Your eyes lit up when our eyes met and you smiled at me. I had no idea that I was going to miss your smile so much.

“Good morning, Mr. Fox.” You said, reaching for something from your pocket. “Would you like some treats?”

Some cat food.

“Sorry, I only have that with me right now.”

What are you apologizing for? I thought, munching the food happily as if I hadn’t finished a whole pigeon for breakfast a few hours ago.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take a look inside.” You told me before you bowed toward the gate and walked through it.

There’s nothing left in this shrine besides the hall of worship and some stuff that hasn’t been stolen yet. You can’t even do the cleansing ritual because the water has dried out. But, you make sure to do whatever you can to be respectful. Your grandmother would be so proud of you.

The last time I saw someone pray in my shrine, they asked for so many things all at once. I wonder if the gods even remembered all of it. There were also those people who came just to ask for one thing but felt the need to repeat it many times for the prayer to be answered.

You, on the other hand, wish for nothing. You might look like you did on the outside, but you just stood there to pay your respect to the gods and nothing else.

When you turned around, I expected another goodbye and centuries of guilt for not even trying to talk to you. Instead, you waved at me and told me you’ll be back tomorrow with better food.

I don't usually expect much, but at that time I really hoped it wasn't just meaningless pleasantries.

But, you kept your promise and came back with food and some tools.

“I asked the neighborhood association if I could fix this place and they told me to do whatever I want. So I did.” You were crouching in front of me with a big grin. “I hope you didn’t mind that too.”

This place needs a little renovation anyway. I thought as I finished the food you brought for me.

From that day, you started to come almost every day. Sometimes you brought a friend, but most of the time you came by yourself.

For the first time in a very long time, I was waiting for the sun to rise so I could see you and listen to your stories. 

Only to lose you again as a result of my carelessness.

The painful memory is engraved in my head. The day I left to find you a parting gift and returned late.

If you ever wondered what a broken heart sounds like, mine rang in my ears. Like two small bells held together by a thread. Clattered to the ground as it slipped from my mouth when I saw you laying on the ground, under the sacred tree where I used to wait for you to come.

There were cuts and bruises all over your body. Your clothes were torn in several places and stained with blood. 

I have lived as a fox for so long I thought I had forgotten how to return to my human form. But, I remembered sprinting across the narrow path to you with fear creeping up my spine like a static shock when I pulled you into my arms.

I didn’t know how I turned back my hind legs to a pair of human legs and how my claws turned back to a pair of hands. All I know is your cold and limp body with your heartbeat so faint I could barely feel it. 

“Mr. Fox?” You whispered hopefully.

I nodded. “I was late, please forgive me.”

Your pale lips curved into a teasing grin, looking as beautiful as ever even when your soul slowly left your body. “I always knew you weren’t just an ordinary fox.”

Anger tightened my chest as I caressed your cheek where I could see the color of life fade away from you in slow motion. Who dared to do such a heinous thing to you in my shrine? 

“I’ll save you, please stay with me.” My voice was hoarse and shaky. I haven’t heard my voice for ages, but I’m glad I can finally use it to talk to you.

“No need, Mr. Fox.” Your brown eyes glowed under the sunlight as you tried to preserve every detail of my face in your memory. “It wouldn’t work the way you wanted.”

It was painful to look into your eyes.  How come they were so full of life even on the verge of death?

“It’s a shame that I can only see the real you at times like this.” You slowly reached towards me, touching my face with the tips of your cold fingers as hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” I sobbed, holding your hand close to my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You replied with another faint smile. “My departure won’t be permanent. You should have known that better than me.”

“But, how long should I wait?” My voice cracked as I cried, the thought of living my old life without you makes my heart ache. “What if … what if you don’t—”

I cursed myself for not being born a human. I cursed the gods who brought us together just to take you away from me and forced me to live a very long life just to lose everything I ever had.

“I’ll be back,” you assured me. “And you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Your pretty smile faded away from your face as the last drop of your soul left me alone in my shrine with your lifeless body.

“I will,” I replied, kissing your knuckles. Wondering if you were still around to hear me.

I embraced you for the last time and buried you under the same tree. I spent days mourning for you, pouring out all my grief until there was only anger left.

Once the rage took over me, I searched the whole village to avenge your death. But, killing the culprit didn’t ease the pain like I thought it would.

So, I made the entire shrine your grave and put curses on anyone who dared to enter. I lashed my anger at the trespasser just to feel something that I hoped could fill the space you left in my heart.

I created quite a riot since you left me. 

Until a young boy came to the shrine one day. He was an 18-year-old boy from the city. Even though he looked like a mere human, I knew better that he wasn’t.

A Handler always smells different from humans.

“You have caused a lot of trouble to the neighbors, don’t you know?” He asked politely, far more mature than any other grown-ups I ever encountered.

“They deserved it,” I told him. “And you would too if you don’t leave this place immediately.”

The boy ignored my threats and turned to look at your grave. A shiver ran down my spine as he took a step closer to you.

“Don’t you dare come near her!” I warned him. A Handler would be hard to kill, but I won’t let him mess with you too.

The boy stopped before he reached your grave and kneeled in front of it. He lowered his head and mumbled a prayer that I hadn't heard in a long time.

A prayer that wishes you a safe journey.

“I’ve met a lot of Entities like you, Mr. Fox.” He said afterward, still on his knees. “But, you can’t just wait here and hurt people until her return. Don’t you want to tell her your stories too?”

His words linger in my ears for a moment. I wonder how the thought of your return can instantly soothe my anger.

“The world is cruel, I admitted it.” The boy added as he stood up. “I know for sure I would probably be long gone myself once my parents returned from their departure, but you? You will be around once she comes back, won’t you?”

A gentle breeze caresses my cheek. For a moment, I think I can feel your presence around me. 

“Come with me to the city.” The boy said. “So that you won't run out of stories to tell when she finally returns.” 

And that’s the story of how a young boy saved me from my grief. I still have a lot of stories to tell you.  How I met my friends and my newfound family. The city indeed has a lot of stories.

I can’t wait to sit by your side again once you return. Until then, I will pray for you to have a safe journey too.

-AN END TO A NEW BEGINNING

---

#atinyspeckofdust #writeblr #original writing #WIP #fiction #urban fantasy #angst #reincarnation #nameless ocs #tw blood #tw death

[deviantartdramahub]

TW: Pedophilia.

Ugh okay...so for whatever reason, I can't find the post I've been talking about. I really did try guys, but it's not in the "Pedophile TW" tag for whatever reason, despite the fact it should be there considering the fact DADramaNow thinks Club's a pedo. But hey, ig I'm asking too much from Mod-S expecting her to properly organize her own blog? And I know they didn't delete it either bc these people never learn from their actions or regret them.

So sorry for the lack of proof. Hopefully from what I talk about, Tri will be able to remember it and link it herself, she's very experienced with all this after all.

Anyways, to summarize, DADramaNow took a post on DA that was actually very good and helpful...it was bringing awareness to people trying to ask fetish art from unsuspecting people, and not telling them it was sexual, meaning they were making an unknowing person partake in something sexual without consent. It was called "fetish mining", and it's great this person spread awareness, as someone should ALWAYS know if they're doing any type of porn, and if they aren't comfortable with things like that, they should be aware someone's requesting fetish art so they can decline and avoid doing something that makes them uncomfortable. It's especially bad when the artist is a minor.

So you'd think DADramaNow taking this post and spreading it around would be a very good thing, right? Oh you poor sweet naive little thing...

Nope, they used the informational post to support their slander against Club. LIKE WHAT? How could you be so selfish? I really shouldn't be surprised, and I no longer am, just another example of many of DADramaNow willing to do anything just to make Club look bad. Just terrible. Taking a problem that has far due awareness and twisting it for your sick game. Such a shame, I'm sure the original poster of the DA post was genuinely well meaning and wanted to actually spread awareness of something very bad, unlike DADramaNow. And then their post was taken without them knowing and used for slander. And they were unknowingly dragged into stupid drama...I really do hope this stupid action from DADramaNow didn't stop anyone from taking fetish mining seriously.

Wish me luck on eventually finding that DADramaPost though, lol.

I do recall, they had posts like that quite often. Though it's not a great concept because, as you pointed out with Club, only an individual can speak for their intentions, and without the intentions, it's just a raw exchange.

[sconeys]

(TW: Arguing, cursing, potential cheating, CGL)

Tags: F4F Established Relationship, Making Up, Misunderstood, coming out, CGL, Mommy, WLW)

If you want to use this, please ask first as these will mostly be personal scripts 💜

I think I'm gunna use this as something of a personal writing log, do some script writing with the added bonus of having it here for other people to see and suggest things! So with that said... Let's start!

For this first script I want to try writing a specifically wlw/lesbian script, since all of my scripts I've written so far have been completely gender neutral. My gay ass just misses lesbean pet names 👀

This first script will be a coming out to partner CGL script (gone slightly wrong), since CGL mommy scripts are what I've mostly written c:

So, scene setting: VA goes on the computer, she notices it's been left on; with a messaging app open. Said messaging app has multiple unopened message notifications. Opening them VA sees that her GF has been messaging other women calling them "mommy". Feeling like she didn't need to see any more than that and already upset, VA moves to go and confront her GF about it.

Script start:

"Babe, we need to talk."

"About what? I think you know exactly about what."

"What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about? Don't play dumb with me, please, you'll just make it worse."

"Please stop trying to mess me around, I saw your texts to those other women. You literally left them on the computer."

"Yeah. "Oh shit" indeed. Did you REALLY think I wouldn't find out?"

"It's not like that? Then what the fuck IS calling random women online "mommy" then, huh?"

"Christ...what the fuck are your parents gunna think-"

"What are MY parents gunna think?!"

*VA sighs deeply* "Fuck..."

"Why are *you* crying?"

"Why do you keep saying that? How is it not what I think? You were calling other women mommy and shit like that, seems pretty cut and dry to me."

"It's not like *that*? You mean a kink? That you have a mommy kink?"

"...not a kink? What? How is it not a kink?"

"You don't get off to it...? Then...why?"

"Comfort...? I...babe I'm not following-"

"Age regression? I...think I've heard of that, yeah, what's that got to do with this though?"

*VA listens for a while to an explanation, listening and makes sounds/responses of following*

"I...think I understand...but why'd you never say anything, babe?"

"You were scared...? I mean, I guess I can see why...it's not the easiest thing to understand and I'm still not even sure if I do..."

"Hey....hey, sweetheart it's okay...baby, you don't need to be sorry....I just...didn't understand...I thought it was something else...it's okay."

"I'm sure...of course I'm sure. Now look up at me with those big beautiful eyes of yours...there she is, there's my girl..."

"I love you, okay. The only reason I was so upset was because I was scared that I was losing you. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, but it seriously made me freak...I shouldn't have looked to be honest, it's my fault too."

"That's right, babe, it wasn't all you, I fucked up too. Now come here and smoosh that face of yours in my chest, I know you love that..."

*a little while of soft breathing sounds and potentially heartbeat*

"You know...I wouldn't be opposed to being called mommy..."

"Yeah, I mean it... if it makes you happy I'd be a pretty shitty girlfriend not to try, right?"

"...I do wish you'd have told me before going online for it though, sweetheart"

"it's okay babe, I know you didn't mean any harm by it...or should I say 'baby~'"

"N'awww~ You trying to hide that cute blush in my chest baby?"

"I definitely wish I'd known sooner if I meant you being this adorable and shy..."

"You can't hide there forever baby...c'mon look up at...mommy"

"There's my baby girl...look at you, so cute all snuggled up to mommy..."

"Gosh...you're so adorable like this..."

"You know...you did such a good job explaining age regression to mommy sweetheart, mommy is so proud of you!"

"Mhmmm, that's right! A very good job, little one~ Maybe we should get you a sticker chart or something, baby. Would you like that?"

"You would? Well we'll have to look next time we go shopping! You'll have to be a very good girl for mommy though..."

"You'll be a good girl? Good, I'm glad sweetpea~"

"You know...I think I could get used to this"

"Yeah, I think so baby, it's very...comfy...cozy? I'm not sure how to describe it."

"Safe? I think maybe you're right darling...safe. I think I understand what you meant earlier now..."

"Kinda like I could forget all the problems in the world and just dedicate my attention to you...my sweet, precious little girl..."

"You're so cute when you get shy..."

*VA pause for a while again, soft breathing*

"Hey, baby?"

"Thank you for being honest with me. I know it must have been tough for you, but...I'm so glad you did."

"You don't need to say anything, just know I'm really, really happy right now."

"...I love you, baby girl. So much."

#asmr scripts #lesbian #asmr roleplay

[astromaki]

part 3 of second choice ; ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1617 words)

part 1. part 2. (previous) part 4.

tw ; angst, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, degradation, divorce, mention of alcohol, bad language, slightly suggestive ?

EXTRA INFOS ;; all the characters are aged up obviously (they are 30 here), the point of view of this third part is from shoto todoroki !

confrontation. [7 : 16 pm]

a week has passed since he came home that night drunk. that he had begged momo to stay with him. that he had accidentally seen those divorce papers crumpled by your hands.

momo had seen them too that night, and yet she and shoto had not commented on them. good, he wasn't in the mood anyway.

it had become almost official, even the media had it on their front pages. "one of japan's richest couples on the verge of divorce?", "billionaire todoroki single again?" "y/n, will the heir.ess of their father's company return to being a lawyer?"

he would have liked to say that he cared what you thought about it. if you cried, screamed, were you hurt ? but that would be lying, you were the least of his worries.

and then, wasn't it what he wanted from the beginning ?

that you would end up hating him so much that you would leave him. that he could finally be free of the weight that you represented every day.

and yet his signature was still missing.

"you can't even love your partner properly, and now i hear through the media that a divorce is on the way ? you're pathetic son. i knew i should have married them to touya. " enji's heart-attack voice echoed terribly through the phone, which made shoto sigh. he was even pretty sure he could hear it from across town.

"calm down." shoto said in an annoyed tone. "your marriage isn't a success either, so keep your remarks to yourself. bye. "

"you idiot, don't you dare hanging up on me. i don't care if you can't satisfy your s/o, i don't care if they feel bad about this arranged marriage either. but y/n y/l/n comes from a very famous lawyer's family, so get a divorce and the amount of money you have to give will be huge. "

"i manage them, it will not be a problem. i have to go now. "

the young man finally returned to your room, looking exhausted, his tie loosened and ready to down a few glasses of whiskey.

however, he was surprised to see you. dressed in a beautiful versace dress/suit, you were glowing. well no, he meant that you looked... good.

though, it was the first time he took the time to look at you. to admire you.

the young man finally met your indifferent gaze through the mirror you were standing in front of. that gaze that was so joyful and sparkling at the beginning of your marriage, full of hope to transform this purely financial union into a love marriage.

but that look, devoid of emotion, almost made shoto, Japan's most ambitious ceo, doubt himself. almost.

"i'm surprised you're still using my card to splurge. how much is this one? $1000 ? $2000 ?"

he was tired, exhausted. nut the truth is he was in the mood to be a pain in the ass tonight.

"$ 8,330. plus the $800 pair. " you replied coldly.

your answer was like a slap in the face to your husband. not because of the price, he didn't give a fuck about this.

but this tone right there. it wasn't like you. you were normally so gentle, patient even with the worst of the crap he put you through. that naive kindness that made him want to vomit was completely gone. he didn't expect such a turn of events.

"so you decide to divorce me, but first you want to empty my bank account? you're exactly as I imagined." his look that used to reflect nothing but fatigue was now full of contempt for you.

you finally faced him. shit, he couldn't help but find you beautiful.

"here todoroki, let's talk about the divorce. " you began, quietly walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a stack of documents. "i've signed it, sign it, and i'll take it to my lawyers first thing in the morning.

he snatched them out of your hand and threw them across the room. you didn't even flinch, you even held his gaze. poker face.

a loud silence fell between you. a long silence, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. heavy and light. sensible and meaningless.

"what's all this about ? who put you up to this ?"

a wry laugh escaped your lips. your new behavior puzzled shoto. he loved and hated what he had in front of him. a challenge.

"you think i need someone to make me realize that i deserve better than an asshole like you ? fuck, let me laugh. "

your hand went to retrieve a piece of paper from your purse. and it was slammed hard against his chest. bakugou’s business card.

he found your face inches from his, your warm breath gently caressing his cheeks. a scent of whiskey filled his nostrils. you were not sober.

"how many drinks are you on? " he asked quietly.

"so now do you care if i downed a whole bottle or not ? oh please shut up. because now that you mention it, your friend bakugou katsuki may have hired me. to be his company's business lawyer. isn't that funny? "

you turned your back on him, unaware of the state you'd put him in. but damn, it was like he'd just been slapped in the face. nausea took over his whole body, his legs became heavy and weak in few seconds only. and he knew damn well it wasn't fatigue.

so you were leaving him, but on top of that you were going to work for his number one competitor ?

he didn't know what hurt more, the knowledge that bakugo had won one of the most competent lawyers in the field or that you were leaving him for him ? was he jealous ? surely not, it was another feeling that repulsed him. he didn't even know.

"have you lost your tongue todoroki ?"

todoroki ? since when did you call him by his last name ? where are the darlings or my heart that used to annoy him so much ?

you finish getting ready, now wearing your long jacket. he had lost his tongue indeed, he didn't know what to say to you. what to do.

y/n y/l/n, you had succeeded in putting your husband to the wall.

but it was only for a moment. he quickly, too quickly, pulled himself together. his usual irritated expression returned.

"you don't see that he's using you to get ahead of me ? i thought you were smarter than that. "

he took a step forward, slowly but surely. like a predator approaching its prey.

"he doesn't care about you. just like no one has ever cared about you, not me, not him and not your bourgeois family. that's why they put you in a loveless marriage so easily. "

a mirthless laugh escaped from his lips.

"y/n, this bastard doesn't give a damn about you. "

you tried to move towards him, ready to slap him, but the alcohol made you capsize and stumble on your carpet. he arrived just in time to support you with his muscular arms. an annoyed sigh resounded in the large room when your sob reached his ears.

nevertheless, a petty smile stretched his lips. there you were again, the fragile and unassertive y/n finally in his arms.

that bakugo had managed to turn your brain inside out. yet shoto knew you better than anyone else. he knew you. better than you knew yourself. you were that puzzle he had managed to decipher long ago.

"that's not true. kacchan wouldn't do that...", you whisper.

"you know i'm right, sweetheart. you know i'm the only one who's honest with you. my love for you is all you need. "

his muscular hand gradually, peacefully, came to caress your back to take off the buttons of your dress. his lips came to meet yours, to draw you into a long, languid, unsentimental kiss. your lips asked for more, your whole soul asked for more of shoto. more of this man for whom your heart never stopped beating. even if his was vibrating for another woman.

you wanted to feel his lips making love to you sensually, sincerely.

you just wanted him to love you for one night. one fucking night.

shoto was ecstatic. he could already see himself opening a bottle of champagne with his father, to celebrate the divorce that would never happen. tonight, shoto had brought out his best acting skills. millions were at stake. he had brought out his best kiss. he had never touched you like that. so gently, so carefully.

he had never called you by any affectionate nickname.

he has done too much to keep you around.

and you were drunk, not stupid.

you finally stood up, moving away from him, reluctantly. nothing he said was true. from his love for you, to his accusations against katsuki.

awkwardly, you put your dress/suit back on properly.

"i have a meeting with my future employer mr. bakugou tonight. i'll be late. don't wait for me, i'll sleep at the hotel tonight, with your card. "

a red color came to his cheeks. anger ? sadness ? jealousy ?

he had never seen you so determined, so proud. and that attracted him. he was going to lose millions, no matter what. but it was you who was going to escape him. for that bastard bakugou katsuki.

the nice little y/n was no longer shoto todoroki's.

AHHH omg sorry sorry i told you i can't do a fluffy end!! >< (comments and reblogs are appreciated <3)

🔖 tag list ; @nveusii @angelofthorr @missmolliemoo @jazzylove @loki-an-idiot @deepestranchgoopdeputy @mhasimp666 @shotorozu @chscklvr @devilsbooksworld @marshmallow12345 (ones in bold cannot be tagged)

#bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto todoroki x you #shoto x you #shoto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki angst #bnha shoto #bakugou x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugou katsuki

[cinnamonest]

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away. 

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over. 

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart. 

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO OPEN REQUESTS AGAIN! Can I get the infatuation boys reacting to them being YN's first 😏

Hello, love, yes, yes you can.

Also, for those who don’t know, the four infatuation boys are Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, and Johnny

The Infatuation Boys React to Being Your First

Infatuation AU

TW: Possessive Behavior, Suggestive (But Nothing Explicitly Written), Dom/Sub Dynamics, Praise Kinks

Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her)

Genre: Romance, Suggestive

[Requests Post] | [Main Masterlist] | [Infatuation Masterlist]

Word Count: 0.7K

A lot of GIF creators have expressed varying levels of discomfort when their creations are used on Yandere posts or otherwise darker things so I decided not to use one for this, I hope you all don’t mind!

Na Jaemin

Oh man. It would start as a simple kiss, just one that you had easily stolen from him, but when you separated and simply looked into each other's eyes, it would start to escalate from there. When his thumb hooks under your waistband, that's when you'd tell him and, good god, he's going to make sure you have the best first time. He'd take it slow, asking you for permissions all along the way and reassure you that you were doing just fine, he'd try a few things to make sure you were relaxed and, if ever you asked him to stop, he'd listen to you always. You're his first priority, always.

"How does that feel? Should I go slower or faster? You're the boss tonight, but don't get used it."

Kim Jungwoo

You were both about to go to bed when you started to press small kisses down his neck. With soft words you'd tell him "I'm ready" and he'd have to stop himself from going all out on you right there. You had told him before that you had literally no experience when it came to the more intimate aspect of a relationship and he respected that, so now that you told him that you were ready to try you'd best be prepared for the night ahead. He'll make sure you can't forget it. He's been patient for this long. He'd take it slowly at first, of course, but once you start getting comfortable... Let the corruption begin.

"Ah... how long I've waited for this. Just listen well and I'll make sure you're fine."

Jung Sungchan

Oh thank god because you're his first too. You'd both move at a gentle pace, vanilla isn't even the right word because neither of you knew what you were doing, you were just doing what felt right. Gentle touches that came from uncertainty would pursue, each of you asking the other if they were feeling good, if they liked this or that, it was something you were both learning together. But, as you'd soon learn, he tends to be better at following directions rather than giving them. Tell him he's doing a good job, he loves it.

"Is this how you do it? Sorry, I... wait... can you do that again? Please?"

Suh Johnny

Oh, he knew, definitely. He'd be guiding you the whole time on what to do because, as you should know, he comes first. Both literally and metaphorically. If you listen well then he'll be gracious in return and when it's finally his turn to pleasure you? You were through the roof. You were sure that it was through experience that he was just this good but how is it that he made it so that you didn't want him to stop? He knew exactly what to do to make sure you never felt bored and... why's he sliding a pillow under you?

"Good girl, you're doing so well. Just trust me to take care of you, alright? I know you can do that."

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[sashi-ya]

Ch. 4 ~ NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Maid! Reader ~ A Dangerous Attraction.

AU : Mafia AU. Mafia boss Law. He IS a murderer.

TW: BLOOD. Mafia & murderers. Graphic depictions of violence. Smut. Explicit. Making love. Vaginal sex. Impregnation. Self harm. Marks, bites. Mental health issues. Trauma. Fluff. Angst.

WC: 4.2K

Chapters: one ; two; three; four; five; final

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33273136

Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @chocokaylarobin ; @fantasyfairysworld ♥

“Law!!”

“Name-ya…”

Inked fingers squeezing around your wrist, your body hanging into the void. You try to climb, but little rocks fall every time you try to use your feet to push yourself up. The desperation and Law is simply not moving, he is just holding you. If he wanted, he could let go of you and you would fall instantly. If he wanted, he could kill you and no one would know. If he wanted…

“Law! Pull me up!” you shout, with tears in your eyes. He is not listening; Law is completely frozen. His eyes opened wide; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. His jaw muscles are clenched. Your arm hurts, the only thing that is keeping you alive is Law grabbing you.

“Law don’t let me fall. Save me…” you beg with tears sprouting from your eyes. “LAW!!!” you shout. The time passes so slowly, so painfully scary.

Suddenly he blinks quickly and pushes you up. Your body falls over his, you are safe now. Law hugs you; he starts crying. Your head rests over his chest, but quickly try to release yourself from his arms. “Let me go!” you shout, in distress.

Law stops hugging you and you stand up, trembling, still crying. You take your hand to your wrist, massaging the fingertips marks he has left over your skin. “I’m… you don’t understand. I didn’t…” he tries to tell you, but he fails as he stutters nervously.

“I wanna go home. My home” you tell him and start walking back through the path. You almost run; you can feel him walking behind you. Law is sobbing, he can’t stop crying. You hear some scratching noises, but you decide not to look back. If you dared to even look at him, you’ll pity him and forgive what just happened.

But something stops you, you hear a loud noise and a whining. A painful whining. You turn around, and there is Law, kneeling on the ground, right arm bleeding from the scratches he has made on himself, swollen eyes from all the crying. He keeps violently scratching his skin, and he can’t stop.

“What the hell?!” you shout and run to him. You crunch next to him and grab his arm, “Stop doing that. You are hurting yourself”. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…” he says repeatedly. “Stop, please. You are bleeding” you tell him, holding his arm. He puts his forehead over your chest imploring forgiveness. Your shirt gets damp by his tears. A mafia boss crying like this, so weak…

“Why didn’t you pull me up instantly, Law?” you ask all of a sudden. You know that whatever he says won’t stop you from running away from him, but that question escapes your mouth unintentionally. “I… I’m… my dad. My uncle…” he stutters. “What happened?” you ask. “My uncle… killed my dad. Doflamingo pushed him by the same hill. I was in the car looking at everything. My uncle said my dad slipped away because he was clumsy, but he didn’t. He pushed him. And I saw everything. And didn’t say anything, I was afraid. My… dad…I was seven”. And suddenly everything makes sense… he was facing his trauma, but he never let you fall. He saved you… once again.

You hug him so close, poor thing. You caress his black hair, rocking him back and forth. “It’s ok, it’s ok…” you repeat. A few minutes after he stops crying, “I’m sorry” he says, nuzzled on your chest.

“It’s ok, Law…”

But you can’t take this anymore. You are going to end up dying if you stay next to him. You definitely are.

Both walk back to the cabin, you start packing your stuff leaving only the maid costume over the big, still undone, bed. Sitting on the mattress you take out the photo of your family and look at it. In the photo you see your sisters, your mom and you in your father’s arms. It’s your birthday. Behind, a tall man running with a little boy wearing a white hat. You don’t really remember their faces. You only remember that man was your father’s partner. Both policemen. They were fighting against organised crime. After your dad was shot, you never hear anything else from his partner, nor the little kid. But you keep focusing on your family, and those happy times. You were smiling so joyfully, so naive…

You hear the surgeon at the door, and quickly put the photo on your pocket. There is no way you let a mafia boss see the face of your family members. It’s just too risky...

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” asks Law, now with a white bandage around his scratched arm. “I am sure, please take me back to my apartment” you tell him. “(Name)-ya, please, stay at my house. I promise I won’t talk to you” he says, tears building up in his eyes. But you remain strong. “Please…I need time to be on my own” you tell him as if you were begging him to stop insisting. You don’t know how much you are gonna go without succumbing to the dangerous attraction he represents to you.

“At least let me keep you safe, I won’t visit you, I won’t call you. But please, stay in one of my apartments. I beg you” he finally says, approaching you. You back up instantly, somehow him touching you, scares you.

“Fine” you finally accept. He is right, if you dare to come back to that apartment you might be in danger. Law eyes sparkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you so much” he says, approaching you once again as he was trying to hug you.

“Stop. Don’t touch me” you command. He freezes right away, the smile in his face is gone once again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in the car waiting for you” he says, crestfallen and walks away. Your heart aches at him leaving the door, but you know too well this is the best decision you could have taken.

Once everything is set, and you are ready, you go downstairs. You give a last peek to the cabin, the place where Law and you let your passions go wild for the first time… a place where he almost chokes you to death… Closing the door behind you, you were sure this was the last time you would ever be in this place.

Opening the door of that amazing black car, you throw your bag on the backseat and sit next to Law. He is wearing black shades, tears falling through his cheeks. He is not speaking; he swallows and hits the gas. You don’t dare to look at him, so your head is turned towards the window. The magnificent forest, nature, a place where you’ve been the happiest… and the sudden memories of you almost losing your life for the second time…

No more than an hour passes, and you are already on the highway. The radio makes the painful silence a little less uncomfortable. A slowed cover of “We Found Love” by Rihanna playing.

“As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive.

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny. But I've gotta let it go.

We found love in a hopeless place…

Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide.

Turn away 'cause I need you more”

“Tsk…” you express. “Hum?” he asks. “Nothing…”. There was no interaction, nothing. Law’s cheeks damped. Nose red from all the crying.

“(Name)-ya… would you prefer the 6th or the 8th floor?” he asks, sniffling. “Whatever you want, it’s ok for me either way” you tell him, feeling ashamed. You are leaving him, but still living on his property… this shouldn’t happen. “Ok… Then the 8th floor. It has a big terrace” he tells you and touches the screen of the car.

“Bepo, Law here”

“Law, I’m Pen. Tell me”

“Oh, Penguin. Please take all the (Name)-ya’s stuff to Swallow inns, the eighth floor”.

“Yes, boss. Are you ok? You need us to take some of your stuff too?”

“Just hers… oh, don’t forget the Kia”

Law hangs up before his friend could say anything else. His voice clearly shows how much he’s been crying; he knows his friend would ask. You simply ignore everything he says, you don’t really want to hear even though he is speaking via Bluetooth.

After two hours, you arrive at a luxurious apartment complex over the beach. A big sign that says “Swallow Inn” announces that this is the place you are gonna be living from now on. “Damn” you think, how the fuck your life changed so much that you ended up living in such a place…

“(Name)-ya, this is the place where the apartment is located. Our… your parking spot is the number 18” he informs you. “Uhm, ok…” you say, because you don’t even have a bicycle to park in there, but hey, thanks for the information. But, when you arrive at the said parking spot, a little black car is parked there. “Nice, someone parked on your spot” you say, sarcastically.

“It’s yours…” he says. “What? No” you categorically express. “Please, accept it. This place is far from the city, and there are no bus stops nearby. Please” he insists. “Ok…” you accept, even though you are sure you are not gonna use that car.

Law takes your stuff from the backseat and tells you to follow him inside. The place is modern, everything is clean, luxurious, white, pure. “Eighth floor” he says and presses the little 8th button of the elevator and a code. “Remember, you should enter this number so you can enter home, ok?”. You don’t speak, and just nod.

The doors open inside the apartment, again everything is so white and pure. Your stuff is already in place. Big windows show the immense sea ahead. Everything is perfect, so for rich people. “Law, this place is amazing. You sure you want me to live here?” you ask.

Law turns around, takes his sunglasses off. Swollen red eyes, more dark circles than ever. He fixes his grey irises on yours. “I’d rather you live with me. But this is the best second option I have to keep you safe”. You keep looking at him, you can’t take your eyes off him. It hurts so much, even more than the bruises on your wrist, on your neck… your heart shouts “stay with me”; but your head says no… no, or you are gonna end up dying.

“By the way, this is your phone. I recommend you use this one, it’s safer. Not for me, but for you” he says, lending you a mobile phone that’s over the breakfast nook. “Thanks” you nod and your fingers graze when gabbing the phone. How hard is this…

“Well, I know you want me to go, but, if you ever need me… just, call me. Ok?” says Law, taking his hand to your cheek, but quickly stopping himself. “Wait” you say and grab his hand to your face. He gasps but grazes your skin. You close your eyes and let your head rest over his palm for a moment.

“Thank you, Law… Give me some time, please” you whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he says, and a few moments later he is gone. The elevator doors close, and your legs finally turn weak. You fall on your knees. You haven’t cried until now, and now you do. Tears won’t stop falling from your eyes to the marbled floor.

“Law…”

----

After all your tears have dry, you start looking around the apartment. Your bedroom is bigger than your ex-house. The bed looks just as the one Law has in his room. Satin sheets and white fluffy covers.

A wardrobe full of your clothes, old and some new outfits they bought you from the finest brands. And next to your clothes, men's ones. “Are these Law’s?”.

You can’t help but take one of his t shirts. You choose a yellow one, with black sleeves. “It has his smell…” you say, while taking the cloth to your nose. “I don’t think he would mind if I use it…” you say and put the shirt on. It has some kind of a smiley face stamped on it, and you wonder what it means.

The night comes, and your stomach growls. The fridge is full of ingredients, Law’s subordinates are so efficient. You cook a vegetable wok that you devour right away. The place is way too big for you, but it is what it is.

You inspect the new phone he gave you, such modern and pretty. You decide to pass all your photos from your old one to it. Same as the numbers. “I should call mum…” you think, remembering about the money. Where are you going to find any money to send them? “I can’t go back to the old bar; I’ll search for work tomorrow”.

“Hi, mum?”

“Darling!! I’ve been calling you, but you don’t seem to pick up. Is everything alright? Why are you calling from a private number?”

“It’s my new phone, I don’t know how to take it off. I will ask a friend to help me, and I’ll send you my number mum. Don’t worry” you lie. “How are you? How are the girls?

“Fine baby, but are you alright? You sound so sad…”

“I’m fine mum!! I moved! I will send you the address via text, ok? You should come someday! I have a sea view now!!” You act all excited, just for her not to worry, but moms know better…

“If you need mum, come spend some days with us darling. Ok?”

“Yes mum, I’m ok. I’ll be visiting you soon!” You lie once again, choking back tears.

The conversation is soon over, and after hanging up, tears run free. “I hate lying to my mum. Damn it. Damn Law…” you grunt, while searching for the picture of your family on your pocket.

“Where the fuck…?” You say, while searching for it desperately in your jean’s pockets. No sign of the photo, and you start to panic. The last photo you have with your dad, your seventh birthday…

“Don’t tell me I lost it, please!!!” You shout and start to look for it everywhere. Every place, every square. You can’t stop crying. You just can’t… something so precious to you.

“That’s what happens when you hang with the mafia… karma” you tell yourself before falling asleep, crying.

You wake up several times during the night, as nightmares invade your dreams. Law’s scratched arms, his eyes, the feeling of falling into the void. The day the police came to your house to tell your family, someone killed your dad. The way Law choked you… the way his hands were around your neck, the way his hips moved in and out of you, the way his kisses make you feel…

“Stop right there, (Name)” you say to yourself looking at the ceiling. How can you feel horny, huh? Are you crazy? “What’s wrong with me…?”. You know what’s wrong, of course you do. You are in love with Law and can’t deny it anymore. Your body misses him, you miss his scent, you are using his damn shirt to bed. You miss him so much; you are hugging a pillow pretending it is him.

Standing up from bed, you look through the big window of your room. The sea seems calm, sun is peeking from the horizon, still lazily resting until dawn. You sigh and say, “I fucking miss you… why aren’t you here?”.

Ding, Dong…

The sophisticated sound of the doorbell resonates all over the loft. “Fuck” you think, they’ve found you… Am I in danger? Should I call Law? Bepo? You tremble and walk towards the intercom.

Ding, Dong…

“Fuck” … you slowly pick up the phone of the intercom, and the little screen next to it turns on. The image of Law, a distressed Law appears. “What the fuck? I told him to give me some space…” you think, but he signs desperately for you to open.

“Law, what are you doing here?” You ask via the phone.

“Open, please, I have something important to show and tell you, I didn’t want to enter with my code” he says and shows a little square paper. Your most precious treasure, your family photo. You widen your eyes, “enter the code, come on”.

A minute passes and the door of the inside elevator opens. Law is standing right there; he looks like a mess. This must be the third night he hasn’t slept.

“Can I?” He asks for permission to even step into your -his- apartment. “Come in. Do you have my pic?” You ask ignoring the fact of wearing his shirt and only that over your body.

“Yes, but… I need to show you something about it” Law says, while looking at you up and down with a sweet expression. “Let’s sit, this is important” he insists. So, both of you sit on the couch. Law takes your photo out of his jacket pocket and puts it over the coffee table. “This is your photo, right?” He asks. “Yes, thank you!! Where was it?” You tell, but before you could take it, he stops your arm. “Wait… it was over the car seat. But, please, look at this…” he says and puts another photo next to it.

“L-Law…”

“I didn’t know, I promise”

“It can’t be, was your dad…?

“Yes, it was” …

Both of you start crying, recognizing how linked both of you are…

Law takes his finger to your cheek, wiping a single tear. You do the same, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “Don’t…” you tell him, and you two hug. Pressing your bodies, you find the comfort, the warmth of home. That feeling you only experience when you know you are safe…

Your faces so close, your eyes fixed. The sun slowly rising, invading the place with lilac and orangey tones. Law is fighting not to kiss you, and you frankly too.

“Fuck it” you whisper and plant a sweet kiss over his lips. And that’s the spark you two needed to become fire. You set all your zipper free, no more clothes. You sit over his lap, both kissing so passionately, tongues playing with each other’s. Law cries, you cry. But you two smile pressing your foreheads.

You see how the scratches on his arm became scars already. You grab his arm and kiss softly over each wound. “Don’t do this ever again, please. If you have the need, talk to me, tell me, I’ll be there to help you…” you tell him, looking straight into his soul. Poor thing…

“I missed you” he says. “I missed you, too” you tell him. Even if you haven’t seen each other for some hours, your souls missed each other so much. You kiss him so relieved… your head keeps telling you stop, until the arousal drowns every single sign of reason.

Law gabs your thighs and stands up, carrying you to the bed. He softly puts you over the mattress, and he settles over your body. Gently kissing your neck, Law takes his time. His hands grazing your breasts so softly. “I want to make sweet love to you, I want to be gentle, I want it slow” he says, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. You smile and take your hands to his face. “Do it slow and do it faster. Do it gentle, and do it rough…make love to me, Law” you tell him.

His “death” hands travel from your neck to your waist, and even lower. His fingers buried on your hips as his mouth reaches your sex. “Spread, babe” he asks with a soft tone. You do it right away. “Good girl, now put your legs over my shoulders”. And so, you do.

Law’s mouth attacks your core, licking, tasting, devouring your juices. He little by little kneels on the bed, pushing you up. Your legs are still over his shoulders, he has better access to your core as he keeps giving you the best oral sex you ever experienced. You grab the sheets, pull from them, as your climax begins to arrive. Law presses your lower belly, while he sucks your clit. “Come on, come for me” he says, muzzled by your anatomy.

You are about to burst, and Law penetrates you with his middle finger and ring finger. The licking, the pressure, the fingering… you come, squirting, bathing his whole torso with your juices, as they come out with such pressure Law is not able to receive it all with his mouth.

“Such a good girl” he says, letting your legs over the mattress. You are panting, that position somehow made everything better… “L-Law…?” you mumble, still trembling from the orgasm you just had.

“What, baby?” He asks while wiping the rest of your climax off his chin with the back of his hand. “Don’t you ever stop fucking me like this” you tell him, so naturally, so unplanned.

“I won't, I won't ever stop”.

Law lays in bed, next to him, enjoying how you come back to normal, and the blushed on your cheeks that screams how good your orgasm felt. But he wants more, and of course, you too.

“Come here” he says and helps you to turn around. He is spooning you; you feel his hard member over your glutes. Law passes his right arm under your neck, and the left one reaches your left nipple. He pinches it, twists it. Law takes his index to your mouth and makes you suck it. “Wet it real good” he commands. Your teeth graze the E tattooed on his finger while sucking it so sexily.

The same finger, shiny from your saliva, is now tracing circles again over your nipple. You moan, it feels so good. He gropes you with his dick, your back feels the warmth of his inked chest. You push your ass against his member, trapping it in between both cheeks. Law grunts, and moves up and down, frotting his hard shaft over your rear entrance.

Your hand reaches for the surgeon’s hip. You carve your nails on his skin, pulling you even closer to you.

“Fuck me, fuck me now”. “If that’s what you want…” he says, while he bites your neck. The hand that was playing with your nipple now grabs his dick. He aligns it with your entrance, lubricating the tip with your dripping arousal. He slaps the shaft against your labia, forming strings of precum mixed with your juices.

His gland playfully hits your clit, and you squirm with it. But you burn with the need of being penetrated, filled by him. “I want you inside, please” you beg. “You want me inside? How much do you want it?” Law says pressing his mouth against your cheek, his beard grazing your skin. “Fill me up, I want it so bad. Fuck me, now…” you whine.

“Ok, my darling. Just because my shirt suits you so well” he says and kissing the side of your mouth he penetrates you so slow, little by little stretching your walls. The feeling of the tip going in and out, without fully penetrating you deep, sends you to heaven as it grazes your g spot. You can only whine his name, feeling as he gradually goes deeper, in and out.

You can feel Law’s wicked smile over your cheek as he finally penetrates you to the deepest point he can reach. Your walls clench around his member as he speeds up the pace. “Babe, you feel so good, so tight” he moans in your ear. The sound of his voice could kill you if it was meant for it.

You moan soundly, sure the neighbours could hear you, but unable to hold back as Law is now fucking you mercilessly. Soon the climax road is taken, and you are sure getting to it.

“I want to see your face while you come” Law says, and quickly turns you around. Classic missionary position, the most perfect man over you, his whole anatomy, sweating, panting.

Law puts your arms up your head, grabbing your wrists together. His body lean over you while he pounds into you, violent, deliciously thrusts. The way the muscles of his torso tightens when his hips move in and out are art, the finest piece of art you have ever seen.

And inevitably, both of you reach orgasms. This time, Law focused on your face, he didn’t bite his lip, he didn’t choke you, he didn’t lose track of reality. Law this time was being driven by love, by the only need of loving you, of making you happy… of not losing you.

You come, and so does he. Law fills you with his creamy seed. He collapses over you, still with his dick inside you, pushing his milk deep in you. Returning his breathing back to normal, he whispers into your ear “I think I’m still in love with you”.

“Still? What do you mean?” You ask, confused...

CH.5

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