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shoddynomenclature · 3 months

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Companions reacting to Tav sleeping completely naked!!!! Please

BG3 Companions Find Out Tav Sleeps Naked (18+)

I really thought I was just gonna start writing this one real quick (I had an idea for Karlach) and three hours later here I am.

This asker was literally the only one to request this one so this is largely self-indulgent, as I do and always have slept naked, even in this -4 degree weather.

Also I’m really trying to incorporate the drow language into Minthara’s portion, but I’m like 70% sure I failed and it just sounds mildly cringy and incredibly ill-informed.

Anyway this is all our favorite ladies (Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira) finding out Tav sleeps naked.

(18+ for possible sexual themes)

Shadowheart

One morning, when she’s feeling particularly mischievous, Shadowheart decides she’s going to drop by your room and wake you up herself.

You’re certainly not the last one up, but Shadowheart, Jaheira, and Minthara have all been up making breakfast for a little while now, and she’s finding their company a little stale.

She sneaks over to your bed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them off of you in one swift move.

She’s typically a lot nicer and gentler when she wakes you up, but her aforementioned mischievousness has her feeling a little playful this morning.

“What the hell?” You groan grumpily, “put it back on I’m cold.”

She stares at you aghast. She was not expecting you to be completely naked, splayed out face down on the mattress.

“Fine, but I’m coming with it,” she says. She wraps the blanket around her shoulders and crawls on top of you.

“Much better,” you smirk, joyed to have such delightful company so early in the morning.

She kisses your bare shoulder. “I suppose I should apologize, I hadn’t expected you to be… unadorned.”

You chuckle. “You gotta problem with me sleeping in the nude?”

“Not a one,” she corrects. “I actually find it oddly… charming, I think. Plus then I can do this.”

She starts to trail slow kisses down your spine. You smirk, trying to turn around and face her, but she pins your wrists down, keeping you splayed out on the mattress.

“Be still for a moment, love,” she kisses the middle of your back before sitting up, astride your hips. “I feel like I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“My back?” You question. She’s certainly seen your bare back before. But she really seems to be enamored with it now. It was nothing special, you thought. Aside from a couple scars, it was just… a back.

She dragged her nails gently up your back. “I like the view. I’d like to see you like this more often.” She bends over until her chest is flush against you and whispers softly in your ear. “Perhaps tonight?”

You feel a rush of heat between your legs, closing your eyes and audibly exhaling.

Before you can even fully enjoy the sensation, she’s off of you, standing next to the bed with her hand out. “Come on, the others will be waiting.”

You take her hand and pull yourself out of bed. She certainly was feeling some type of playful this morning.

Lae’zel

“Hmm. This choice of sleepwear feels… inadequate,” Lae’zel spits.

You nearly jump out of bed with the scare she gives you. You were sleeping and not expecting such abrupt company.

With a simple fire spell, you light the candle on your bedside and point it towards the Githyanki.

“Lae’zel?” You ask, very confused. “What are you doing in here? What time is it? It can’t be morning already.”

You sigh. You were still so tired, you really hoped she was not here to wake you up for the day.

“No,” she growled. “The animal has been scratching at your door. It seems he has tired of Karlach’s snoring and would like to stay in here instead.”

With that, Scratch jumps onto your bed and curls up at your feet. The animals usually slept in Karlach’s room.

“But, back to your choice of sleepwear,” she says. “It seems ill-advised to be covered by do little in your most vulnerable state.”

You cock your head. You had never seen sleeping naked as a safety hazard. “Lae’zel, you’re not sleeping in your armor… are you?”

“Chk, no,” she says, gesturing to her own sleep outfit.

“What more protection does that give you than this?” You gesture at her body and then your own.

“It’s sleek, form fitting, ergonomic, and, most importantly, it covers my most intimate areas.”

You stifle a laugh. The comment sounded ridiculous to you but you would accept her clothes as superior if it meant she’d let you go back to sleep.

“Okay, Lae’zel. Goodnight.” You blow out the candle and close your eyes.

Moments later you feel Lae’zel carefully crawl into bed on top of your blankets.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“If you insist on sleeping in such a state, I must sleep here too. To ensure your safety.”

Karlach

Lets be honest: Karlach is at most sleeping in her underwear most nights.

But she puts on some trousers at least to pad over to your room and ask for a cuddle.

You wake up in your typical sleeping position: on your stomach with your hair flying all over the place.

You swipe the hair from your eyes to see a sweet little (7ft tall) tiefling holding her teddy bear and anxiously smiling.

“Hey love,” you say, groggy but still soft and sweet. “What can I do for ya?”

“I was just wondering if I could… um… maybe have a cuddle?” She requests, anxiously shifting her weight around.

You giggle, using your arm to lift up on side of the blanket. “Of course, darling. Please it is freezing in here.”

Her eyes go wide as you expose your full chest in lifting the blanket, then she smiles and crawls under.

As she makes contact with your skin, it’s immediately apparent that you truly are wearing nothing.

“Oh so you sleep naked. Like naked naked,” she remarks.

“As the day I was born,” you quip. “Any objections?”

She giggles and twists excitedly. “None at all my darling. In fact, I think I might like to join you.”

“Get those trousers out of here!” You joke. “No trousers allowed in the bed!”She removes what’s left of her clothes and settles into bed.

Karlach sleeps on her back, leaving you sort of half stacked on top of her with her arm swung lazily around your back. Your legs are semi-intertwined, alternating between yours and hers.

You prop your chin up against her chest to look her in the eyes. “I guess it’s kinda inconvenient that neither of us sleep on our side, huh? We’re just kinda stacked chest to chest.”

“I suppose I can be on top and we can try to go back to back,” she teases. “But I’d probably suffocate you, face down into the mattress.”

You laugh at the thought and teasingly mess up her hair. “You’re hilarious. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, darling,” she says, craning up to kiss your forehead.

For as awkward and sloppy as it looks, you both actually find the position quite comfortable.

Naturally, you wake up with your ass fully on display from where you both kicked off the blankets in the middle of the night.

Minthara

Minthara is awake, as usual, when you step into her room. Her red eyes almost glow in the pitch black.

“Can I help you?” She asks passively.

“Can I sleep in here? My room is frigid,” you ask from the doorway, clearly shaking under a blanket.

She sighs, but motions for you to come join her on the bed. “As you wish, ssin.”

Minthara had attempted to teach you a small bit of her language. The words came off unfamiliar and hissy on your tongue. From what you knew, the term she occasionally used for you, “ssin”, wasn’t an actual word. You assumed it was used as a pet name derived from the drow words “ssinssrigg” (passion, lust, greed, love) and “alurissin” (a deep loving connection.)

You close the door softly and crawl into her bed. You get on at the bottom and squirm your way up until your head pokes out the blankets.

She looks at you, both amused and appalled by your abnormal behavior. She supposed that was one way to “crawl” into bed. If you were taking the phrase literally.

“You are terribly odd sometimes, my dear,” she said laying her hand on your back, surprised to find no fabric under the blanket.

“Are you not wearing any clothes?” She asks. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had shared a bed, but the previous times you had fallen asleep naked after sex. She hadn’t thought you did that every night.

You shook your head against her chest.

“Straj, in that case I think I discovered the source of your temperature issue.” She rubbed her forehead, reminding herself of all the reasons she actually valued you at all.

Gods how did the sleeping races ever survive the nights? Did everyone sleep like this or was this just a you thing? She didn’t think she’d be surprised either way.

She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but you were already comfortably asleep against her chest.

She sighed and gently stroked your bare back in defeat. How in the hells had she fallen so hard for this adorable little fool.

Jaheira

After a particularly long day, you decide to skip all the extra steps of running your own bath and decide to just bathe in Jaheira’s room.

Her tub was already full, fresh with herbs and such from her own bath.

You rinse off quickly, eager to crawl into bed. “Can I just stay in here tonight?” You ask politely from the tub.

“That is fine. But don’t get disappointed if I fall asleep immediately,” Jaheira explains. “I’m no, spring chicken, as they say.”

You get out of the tub and dry yourself off. “Oh trust me, after today I could fall asleep on one of those god awful bedrolls again.”

She laughs. “Well then it sounds like we’re on the same page, yes?”

She gets in bed, careful to leave one side fully open to you. You step towards the bed, and lift the blanket to get in.

“Put on your sleeping clothes, it is too cold.” She commands.

You look around. You don’t have any sleeping clothes. You always sleep like this.

As you explain this to her she clicks her tongue. She gets out of bed and starts rooting through her wardrobe.

“This was Khalid’s. It will swallow you up, but it will keep you warm.”

You take the heavy fur robe into your hands. You didn’t know how to feel about being offered her late husband’s clothes.

She could see the weariness on your face and soothed you with a gentle hand on the cheek.

“He would be happy I have you, you know?” She says with a somber chuckle. “I think the two of you would’ve gotten on all too well.”

You rubbed your hand against the soft fur. I was jet black, like a panther. It reminded you of Jaheira. You softly thank her before putting on the robe. It was, indeed, very warm and way too big.

Jaheira made her way back to bed, and you followed shortly thereafter. She wrapped her arms around you, pressing her chest against the warm fur.

You have never felt so safe as you did in that moment: swaddled in a massive robe, wrapped in the arms of your lover.

She kisses the back of your head. “Goodnight, my cub.”

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shares-a-vest · 3 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 12: Love is... The tea he brings me without prompt when I’m sick (Prompt by anon)

wc: 740 | Rated: G | cw: None

Tags: Sick Fic, Eddie is Being a Total Shit, Wayne Munson, Care Giving Steve Harrington

A Case of the Sniffles

Steve knows that Eddie is sick when he knocks on the Munson’s door, its accompanying flyscreen rattling under his knuckles.

“I’ve grown weak during the night,” Eddie had informed during a too-early-for-the-both-of-them phone call, “Come quickly, my dearest King. For I fear I shan’t make it to sundown.”

But, considering the expression Wayne greets him with, Steve begins to think that Eddie’s dramatics weren’t just a ploy to get him over here.

“You visitin’ Ed?” Wayne asks, throwing his work jacket over his shoulder in haste as he steps over the threshold.

“He called me,” Steve supplies, earning the rarest of laughs from the permanently grumpy elder Munson.

But Wayne quickly stops, clearing his throat and feigning seriousness. And by the look of the hurried glance he gives his truck, Steve suspects the man is happy to be relieved of caring for what sounds like the world’s biggest crybaby.

“Good luck, kid,” Wayne says, patting Steve on the back before quickly ducking his head back in the door, “Eddie! Steve’s here for ya! There’s chicken soup leftover in the fridge!”

There’s an unintelligible whining sound from inside that leaves Wayne wincing as he ventures down the front concrete slab steps.

Steve swears the man dashes to his truck before he can even get out a goodbye.

He heads inside, sighing as he opens the front door.

It creeks away as he steps over the threshold, the sound alerting Eddie to his presence. His boyfriend's dishevelled form lifts slightly from his sick bed on the couch where he is surrounded by tissues and crochet blankets. The coffee table is even more crowded than usual, littered with discarded cups and mugs. Typically Wayne would flip out about this mess but he’s already left the place for dust.

“Steve,” Eddie rasps, raising a limp hand before letting it fall, “Come closer. I fear the light is fading.”

But Steve just snorts a laugh and heads for the kitchen.

“Eds, you have a bad case of the sniffles.”

“I am ill!” Eddie argues, calling after him with complete clarity.

He looks back to find his couch-ridden boyfriend flapping back his blanket, sending a cascade of used tissues flying onto the floor. Eddie pouts, frowning back at him like a disgruntled kitten.

“Just…” Steve begins, reaching for a clean coffee mug on the dish rack, “Give me a minute to fix you something.”

“What is it?”

Again, Eddie’s voice doesn’t have an ounce of sickness behind it.

Steve rolls his eyes, “Just trust me, okay?”

There’s a fussy grunt but Eddie flops back down on the couch without any more protesting, which thankfully gives Steve enough time to locate the teabags, boil the electric kettle and add a dollop of honey to the mug. He makes quick work of fixing a cup of tea, setting it down after making room on the coffee table.

“Drink,” he commands, nodding to the cup.

Eddie grumbles, side-eyeing the mug.

“What is it?” he asks tentatively, folding his arms underneath his readjusted blankets.

“Tea with honey,” Steve explains, lowering onto the edge of the couch.

Eddie falls silent for a long moment, very obviously stifling a smile despite otherwise not looking like he is about to budge an inch to sit up.

“Can you hold the mug for me?” he asks, with a smile that appears just as mischievous as his bright and sunny regular self.

“Fine,” Steve relents.

And honestly? Up close, Eddie does look sick. Though still not enough to warrant the theatrics.

His skin is paler than usual, his nose reddened like he has been out in the snow too long. His hair is a little greasy too as his bangs stick out every which way, making him look like what Steve assumes the townsfolk of Hawkins were thinking of months back when everyone was convinced Eddie was a wild criminal.

They just never got a look at Eddie's impossibly cute dimples...

Steve picks up the mug and gestures for Eddie to sit – surely he can manage it. And his partner does so, even though he grumbles and gripes all the way.

Eddie gulps back god knows what, all gross and throaty before puckering his lips.

“Kisses?” he requests, sniffling.

“Alright,” Steve shrugs.

He leans forward to press a quick kiss to his boyfriend's lips, earning a contented hum as he pulls back.

“Thanks for the tea,” Eddie smiles, taking the mug in his cold hands.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddielovemonth #sick fic 🤧

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mrsshabana · 1 month

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𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Working in a morgue, you're used to being surrounded by death. But one night you come face to face with an undead that isn't the norm for your line of work. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, vampires, blood, violence, corpses ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.6k words. Thank you @chibi-absol for helping me develop this idea and motivating me to write something for myself ♡

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter Two

This isn’t the job you dreamt of having, but it wasn’t bad either. Being a mortuary technician wasn’t on your to-do list, but you were desperate and needed money. Your family owned a funeral home growing up so you weren’t deterred by the idea of working with dead bodies every day.

And hey it had some perks! Sure it was the night shift but at least you got to work alone. Never having to worry about a manager breathing down your neck or co-workers interfering with your work. It was more pleasant than the average person would expect.

You worked for the city, not a private funeral home so most of the time you were preparing bodies for cremation or doing autopsies on suspicious deaths. Most of the bodies that come in are either homeless people or people who have no family members to claim the body. These cases were suspiciously high in your city. But again, it didn’t bother you because this is how you pay your bills.

Today was like any other day, clocking in at 10 pm as usual. Examining your paperwork to see how many bodies you’ll be working with today.

The file at the top of your stack is for a man estimated to be in his mid-twenties. And… that’s it? Usually, your files have more information on them, like the location or date the body was found. But this one has nothing.

“How strange…” you mumble to yourself as you put on your gloves and prepare for an initial examination.

You waste no time getting to work, loading the young man’s body onto the transport cart, wheeling him over to the examination table and gently setting his body atop the cold surface.

The first thing you observe is how his body moves as you transport him, he must have been dead for a while since it appears that rigor mortis has come and gone. Yet his body doesn’t smell? Everything about this case has been peculiar. But it doesn’t stop you from proceeding as usual.

With a deep breath, you carefully unzip the body bag and remove it completely. Putting this young man’s corpse on full display. Right away there are some things you notice. You quickly turn on your recorder, grab his file, and begin filling it out as you examine his bare body.

“The deceased appears to have spots located all throughout his body,” you look closer at the black splotches that are scattered across his skin. “They don’t appear to be wounds, but irregular shaped birthmarks.”

You clear your throat and continue writing and talking, “He has them on his right cheek, bridge of his nose, both sides of the chin, right clavicle, left breast, left and right upper arms, right hip, and on the genitalia. Further investigation may be required to determine if the deceased was born with these marks or if they were caused by illness.”

You usually don’t get very emotional when looking at corpses, but you can’t help but feel sadness when you look at him. He looks to be around your age, it’s sad to think that he died all alone, with no one stepping forward to claim his body. You can’t help but wonder what his story is and how he came to his end.

You make a few more notes about his body, regarding his lithe frame, he was likely malnourished making you think that he was possibly homeless. He also has bags around his eyes, nothing too uncommon or alarming though.

But it is quite strange, his body is as pale as a ghost yet the texture and appearance of his skin seems youthful and alive. Though he is most certainly dead.

You’re about to wrap up your investigation when you notice something peculiar.

“The deceased appears to have… a bite? On his neck?” you say in confusion, leaning forward to get a closer look. You’ve never seen anything like this before.

“He has two prominent indentations on his neck, maybe bitten by an animal. But… the other teeth marks appear human…”

You narrow your eyes and lean in closer.

Suddenly the man’s eyes shoot open and he gasps for air, his chest rising as his lungs are filled with air for the first time in too long. You stumble backward, utterly horrified that your “patient” has just woken up.

Before you can even open your mouth to speak to him, he’s lunging forward and slamming you against the cold concrete floor. His blunt nails turned claws, swipe at you as he hisses and snarls. Baring large fangs as he snaps at you, trying to get closer to you, but you barely manage to hold him back.

Red eyes glare hungrily at you. You don’t know what’s going on but you do know that this is no human, this man is some kind of monster.

“S-Sir! Please calm down!” You beg, but to no avail. The man doesn’t seem to have any thought in his head besides his intent on hurting you.

You feel his strength suddenly increase, black veins visibly popping out on his face and body. He pushes down harder on you, his deadly teeth inching closer to your face. You panic and hold up your forearm to stop him from ripping your face apart.

You may have saved your face, but you sacrificed your arm as his jaws immediately wrap around your flesh and close down with extreme force. But he doesn’t just bite and hold on no, he bites, and bites, and bites again. Until your arm is a bloody mess, skin and muscle hanging from his abuse.

His eyes glow in excitement as your blood touches his tongue.

If you stay here like this it won't take long for him to completely gnaw through your arm. Your body moves on its own, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you muster all of your strength to push him off of you. His body falling backwards causing the back of his head to slam against the bottom of the metal examination table. Momentarily stunning him for a few seconds.

You use that time to quickly grab a bottle of formaldehyde and run to the walk-in freezer.

He grunts and blinks a few times as he regains his composure. After a few seconds, the smell of blood hits his nose and he is ravenously drawn towards it. Blindly running into the freezer, the scent of your fresh wound draws him.

Your back is against the wall beside the entrance, hidden from his immediate view as he enters the walk-in freezer. As soon as he’s inside you smash the bottle of formaldehyde on his face. Holding your breath and squinting your eyes, trying not to allow the toxic fumes to enter your body.

He howls in pain, so animalistically that it almost makes you pity the creature. Immediately he falls to the ground, claws at his burning eyes, and coughs as he breathes in the toxic substance.

While he’s incapacitated you hurriedly slam the door behind him, locking him inside of the freezer.

Your vision is blurry as tears fill your eyes, mostly from the pain in your arm but also from the fumes of the formaldehyde. Your legs feel like jelly as you collapse against the door, breathing heavily, panicking. With shaky movements you examine your body, making sure you didn’t get any of the toxin in your wound. But it appears to have only gotten on your hand and splashed a bit on your shirt.

With wobbly legs you are barely able to force yourself up, quickly running over to the sink to wash your hands. The sounds of the man’s cries echo throughout the morgue. Then everything suddenly goes quiet. So quiet that you can hear your heart pounding.

“I-Is it d-dead…?” You stare wide eyed at the door as the anticipation seems to freeze time.

…

A loud bang echoes through the morgue, shaking the door's hinges, as a large distortion forms on the freezer door. Bang, bang, bang. The creature slams its body against the inside of the door, trying desperately to escape. His strength is shown by how the thick metal door distorts from his efforts. You don’t want to wait around and see if he’s able to escape so you quickly grab your purse and run out of the morgue.

✣ .. ༺♰༻ .. ✣

As soon as you left last night you went to the hospital. You had to get stitches but thankfully you ended up being okay. Though you were so shaken up that you were barely able to tell the nurses about what happened. Of course they’d never believe you, so you just told them that you had been attacked by a large dog.

Physically you weren’t doing too bad, but mentally you were a wreck. A part of you had tried to convince yourself that you had just imagined the whole thing, but you knew deep down that it really happened. No matter how much the thought terrified you, especially when you had to return to the morgue the next night.

At the end of the day you still needed to pay your bills. And you would never forgive yourself if you left this monster for someone else to find and possibly get killed by.

Hesitantly stepping into the morgue once again, it’s eerily quiet.

“I-Is it still here?” You whisper to yourself.

You swallow dryly, walking with trembling feet toward the walk-in freezer. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your chest and the sound of your footsteps.

Slowly, very slowly, you turn the handle of the freezer door. Opening it ever so cautiously.

And there he is. Lying in the fetal position in the corner of the room. His body completely still, pale, and covered in frost.

“Did I… Did I kill it?”

You step closer and he doesn’t move. You even touch his skin, feeling that it’s freezing cold. Maybe you really did freeze him to death.

Looking back at the door you see where he desperately tried to escape. Throwing his body against the door, even clawing at it with his claws. Even though he's a monster you still feel bad for him.

But you know time is not on your side. And this creature has come back from the dead one time, so you know he could do it again. And you can’t leave him in the freezer forever.

So you struggle to grab hold of him and drag him out of the freezer. His body still remains lifeless as he is dragged across the concrete floors and into the examination room.

Now that he’s out of the freezer, what do you do with him? You have no idea if this creature is even killable, and to be frank you want answers. All you can think to do is restrain him to the examination table with leather straps you sometimes use to position corpses. You tie them tightly around his wrists and ankles.

“Ok, that should be good right?” you pant, “Er, maybe not… what if he wakes up and tries to attack me again?”

Really the only logical thought here. He will attack you again.

Last time he seemed to be drawn to your flesh, so maybe you can use that to your advantage. You shouldn’t be doing this but you don’t have any other ideas. So you siphon the blood out of one of the corpses lined up for examination. Siphoning it into a large metal bucket. The blood isn’t fresh but you hope it will be enough to distract him if need be.

Then you place a blanket on his body to cover him up. Partly because he has no clothes on, but also because a part of you feels compassion for him. Something about a cold body begs you to cover it with a blanket. Whether it be man or monster, you can’t ignore your caring nature.

Now all you do is wait. Despite having plenty of work to do, this is more important. And quite frankly you can’t focus on getting any work done with a bloodthirsty monster in your vicinity.

You sit and wait in front of the examination table, watching as his skin dethaws as the minutes pass. Anxiously holding a scalpel in your hand, as if it would be a valid defense against him.

After less than an hour he begins to wake up. His eyes slowly open, looking around the room curiously. Red irises locking on as soon as they land on your form. He glares at you like a predator stares down its prey before it strikes.

He tries to get up, but is stopped by the restraints. You grin, thinking you’ve succeeded. But no, with an effortless tug the leather straps snap and he lunges towards you. Though slowed from being frozen for 24 hours, he’s still surprisingly fast.

“Don’t hurt me! Please!” You plead, holding out the bucket of blood. Hoping that it will be enough to deter him from taking your flesh into his maw.

The scent of exposed blood is too much for him to bear. He’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Aggressively snatching it from your hands and greedily drinking it. The way in which he gulps down the thick liquid is frenzied and desperate. Like his life depends on it.

The sounds alone are enough to disturb you greatly. You feel stunned as you stand there, watching this savage creature feast in front of you.

In under a minute, the bucket is empty and he’s licking his fingers. Thick maroon dripping down his chin and onto his bare chest. You’ve never seen something so primal before. But it’s oddly beautiful at the same time.

“You…” he croaks, panting as he tries to catch his breath. His voice is deep and carries an inhuman rasp, “Do you… wish to die?”

His face contorts into a scowl as he brings his bloodied hand up to your neck and squeezes tightly. Digging his claws into the flesh of your soft skin.

“P-Please! Don’t ngh- hurt me!” You cry, grabbing his wrist in a pathetic attempt to pry his grip off of your neck.

His red eyes speak of his murderous intent as he seemingly looks into your soul. Eyes redder than blood, pooling with primal hunger.

“Stupid girl,” he growls, opening his mouth. His sharp fangs glistening red from his meal.

“I-I can help you!” you beg desperately. When he seems unfazed by your words you continue, “I can give you blood! Wh-whenever you want! I have tons of it!”

He narrows his eyes at you, and quirks his brow curiously before looking around the room. “You… you work here?” he asks, sounding almost like a normal person.

You nod frantically as his grip around your neck tightens, restricting you from speaking further.

“Fine,” he growls, releasing you from his grasp and throwing you to the floor, “Give me blood whenever I ask and I’ll allow you to live.”

You hunch over on your hands and knees, coughing as you catch your breath. “Y-yes,” you pant, “I can do that, no problem! And I-I won’t tell anyone about you.”

“I know you won’t. You aren’t that stupid,” he snarls, looking down at you with an expression of uncertainty.

You sit there instilled with fear, looking up at this undead creature. Unknowingly making an eternal pact with an unholy force.

Finally, he averts his predatory gaze away from you. Grabbing the blanket you put on him previously and tying it around his waist. And without another word he opens the window and climbs out, disappearing into the night.

And just like that the morgue is silent, almost as if nothing happened. You feel a strange combination of dread and relief wash over you. But you know this isn’t the end.

You get a feeling you’ll be having a visit from the vampire again very soon.

#gyutaro #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro x y/n #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #vampire x reader #vampire au #gyutaro shabana

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billyloomiswhore4 · 1 year

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Crazy for you | Chapter Four

Chapter four is here!!! send me requests for short drabbles and ill give you my take on it. i love when you guys ask me questions about my fics or send requests!!! anyways here it is.

Warnings: billy has a weird obsession with the way you smell, poor randy never gets the girl, smut next chapter!

He didn’t think he’d have to see you until third period, but when he steps into the hall after first period he sees you. You’re leaning against his locker, waiting for him.

He can’t stop thinking about the way you smelled. It was like vanilla body wash and honey, but with that underlying smell of girl. The one he smells on Sidney, but yours is different. It’s sweeter, more intoxicating. He can’t get enough of it, god how he wants to just walk up to you and pull you into a hug, just so he can smell you again. It makes his head spin.

But he doesn’t instead he walks to his locker, attempting to ignore you. But you don’t move, and you don’t say anything, so he just ends up standing there next to his locker waiting for you.

“Hey?” he sounds confused, that's the games he’s decided to play, pretend like he was completely wasted.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds nervous, but still has anger laced in it.

“You’re uh, standing in front of my locker.” He lets out a chuckle, and pretends not to know why you’re angry.

“Yeah, I know.” You deadpan, eyes piercing daggers on his own. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, with his hands in his pockets. You suddenly say, “What are you playing at Billy?”

He stares at you for a moment, “What?”

“The other night? What was that?” You’re outright angry now. He decides to put on a show for you. He sighs, and runs his hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I don’t exactly remember what happened. I was kind of hammered.” He pushes out an awkward chuckle.

“Oh,” Your face drops of all anger, and you seem embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I thought you- nevermind.” You push yourself off his locker and walk away. And he stares after you, a slight smirk on his lips. He praises himself in his mind for the act, and begins getting him stuff from his locker.

–

The next time he sees you is actually third period. Usually you sit right next to him so you can pick his brain about whatever topic is the day's discussion. But today you sit on the other side of the classroom, next to Randy. It makes his heart ache, he loves your little talks. You always seem so interested in what he has to say. Sidney never listens, she just talks to him and expects him to hang on to every word, he hates it and he hates her.

He also hates Randy, especially when he’s looking at you like that. You seem deep in conversation with him, and when you laugh Billy clenches his fist.

How could you be so oblivious, he understands why you can’t tell he likes you, he hides it. But Randy? He’s basically making heart eyes at you, and you have no idea. Sometimes he wishes he could just take what he wants, he’s impatient. But then he remembers the plan, and with the newfound information he received from your diary he knows it’s fool proof.

He just needs to control himself, until tonight. They made a few changes to the plan last night, and it seems perfect. He just has to wait.

You never realized Randy was so funny, but if you're being perfectly honest it seems like he saved up all his jokes and decided to just spew them at you all in one class.

He says something stupid about the movie Halloween and you giggle, attempting to cover it up with your palm. He smiles, and flushes red when you put your hand on his arm to push him softly.

Your smile fades quickly, “You okay there? You're really red.”

“Yeah- yeah I'm good, just a little hot.” He sputters, and his voice cracks at the end. He laughs it off and you smile at him and continue your conversation.

—

The school day passes quicker than normal, lunch was a bore and before you know it you’re sitting in your bed, watching some random horror movie. You had just finished writing in your diary, which was conveniently placed on your bed when you came home from school. At around eight pm you hear the phone start ringing downstairs.

You get up, slip on your fluffy slippers and make your way down the stairs. The phone is on its last ring by the time you answer it.

“Hey Sid.” You recognize the number. Billy stands in the woods right behind your house, waiting for the perfect moment. He and Stu fought for hours for who to be the one to do it, eventually Stu caved.

Sid said something over the phone, but Billy knew he’d be seeing her tonight too.

“No, I think I'm just gonna stay home tonight, but have fun with Tate.” You smile into the phone, and for a second Billy thinks he might faint.

You hang up, and set the phone down, turning and walking back to the stairs. The phone rings again, this time you huff, turning back to the phone. You answer, and say, “I told you, Sid. I don’t wanna hang out tonight.”

“Oooo, trouble in paradise?” the modulated voice teases.

A smile breaks out on your face. “Well hello, mr ghostface.” You tease back.

“Hey, princess.” He grins behind the mask.He said it less sultry than before, not wanting to scare you off again.

“What are you doing?” You ask, playing with your hair.

“Watching you..i’ve decided i’m gonna play with you tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Your voice comes out light and breathless.

“Hide and seek. Go unlock the back door, and then go hide somewhere.” You unlock the door and hold the phone to your ear.

“How do I know you won’t cheat?”

“Oh princess, Y’know I don’t play fair.”

You laugh at that, hanging up and making your way upstairs. You wiggle underneath your bed.

You hear him making his way up the stairs, heavy footsteps booming through the house. He passes your bedroom door, and then stops. You slap a hand over your mouth to quiet your breathing.

The footsteps track back to your door, and your bedroom door opens, light flooding in from the hall. Billy ‘tsk’s to himself, wondering how stupid you could be to hide in your own bedroom. But maybe you want him to find you?

The footsteps trail into your room, but then slowly make their way out of the room. You let out a sigh of relief.

Suddenly something is wrapping around your ankles and yanking you out from underneath the bed. You find yourself turning onto your back in the struggle, and your giggles are immediately silenced. He’s holding a giant knife, and he immediately presses it to your throat.

“Found you.”

taglist: @tzkyo @buzzybee-26 @brazilianneighbour @sammanna @wickedsandwich08 @bdhwiqbwo @roygbivvie @dixxhotgirl2 @iiheartbowie @ashreblogsnow @snailwithaheart @ihbofjastmne @alexa-33 @adaydreamaway08 @zeysartzone @your-daily-envy

#billy x stu x reader #billy loomis fanfiction #billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher x reader #scream 1996 smut #scream 1996 x reader

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krashoutluv · 3 months

Note

Imagine if, to save on the water bill/ they're just tired/etc, Jason (AK or comic really) and his S/o take an innocent shower together for the first time, yet the entire time Jason's trying his hardest to stay respectful and not stare, but at the same time wants to admire his S/o because he just loves how much they look. And possibly gets the shampoo in his eyes while distracted.

bear with me as ive been sick since wednesday and ive been writing this throughout my sick days. #fighting4mylife

Showering with Ak!Jason (SFW FIC)

ig their naked but its not ak!jay being horny just like in love so maybe nsfw nothing sexual happens mostly indirect tension soo??😭😭 ((tw: writing might suck))

JASON came home a little early from a bar. He went there for information on Penguins weapon deals. Jason would say something like, ‘it got a little messy,’ but a little messy to Jason was being covered in mud, blood, and clothes drenched from the rain that started on his way back. It was around 12 AM when he came back way earlier then his usual so you were hoping in the shower getting ready to go to sleep, not expecting him. You two saw each other just as you were walking into the bathroom.

“You look like shit—“ You turned your head into the bathroom so he couldn’t see your face; trying to bite back a cackle because of the words that slipped from your mouth,, “—I mean you can go first.” you looked back over at him,

“Well aren’t you the sweetest thing.“ He started taking off his gloves. “Go ahead.” He huffed.

“No seriously its fine, ill grab you a towel-“

“— The more you talk the longer it takes for the both of us.” He sighed, pulling off his jacket and folding it in a neat little square.

“Right, sorry.” You turn into the bathroom and pause. It was pretty obvious he was tired and wanted to get comfier then his muddied clothes let him; Thats when the thought hit you. “Unless.” You felt your face burn. You weren’t sure if Jason be comfortable with it, but it wasn’t sexual and it’d save you money from your water bill.

“Unless?” Jason questioned flatly, his back was turned to you and he was taking off his bloodied boots.

You slowly turned towards him, “You’d like to.. join me.” you had tried to sound as casual as possible. He paused completely, only getting half of his boot off before freezing. He looked back at you, like he wasn’t sure if he heard you properly. “LIKE—“ You raised your voice a little too loud on accident,”—Like, not like, you know. THAT. But like.” he took off his boot and started walking over to you as you rambled about how you didn’t mean it sexually it’d just be easier n’ y’know obviously he didn’t have to— You didn’t even notice the brick wall of a man making its way over to you until Jason stood in front of you.

”Yeah. Sure.” He replied flatly, your eyes meet his face, he was staring at your face completely stone cold. Maybe if you didn’t turn around to move to the door handle, maybe, just maybe you would’ve seen how his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with red. But you didn’t.

You awkwardly shuffled to the side to let him in, closing the door behind you two. Back facing each other as you two undressed, you weren’t wearing a full outfit so you took everything off faster then him, yikes, awkward. You didnt wanna just stand there so you slipped past him with your head down at the floor to get the shower water running. Running your hand through the burning water just to push away the sound of him unbuckling his belt in the deepest part of your mind. “Uh, first-aid under the, uhm, fuckin- sink.” You stammered, still facing the shower waiting for the water to now cool down.

“You can get in first, i’ll patch myself up.” You did a little thumbs up behind your back, as if he saw, and made your way in, closing the curtain behind you. But he was totally lying. He should’ve patched himself up after you two had gotten out so he didn’t worry about anything washing into his cleaned wounds. But he needed to buy himself time to calm his nerves. You were so fuckin’ pretty, your skin brushed his as you passed him earlier and—its crazy how the Red Hood is single-handedly fighting for his life more now then when he was dealing with twelve grown men earlier.

After taking a purposeful three minutes longer then his usual, he stands up. He almost backs out as soon as he reaches for the shower curtains, he inhales then exhales, brushing his finger tips against the thin veil of cloth that just separates you two. “I’m, uh,-“ his voice cracks “-comin in now..”

“Hold on,” You quickly stepped out of the water stream, and leaned onto the back wall of the shower. “Alright, front of the shower where like, the, uh- water is, is all yours.” Jason cleared his voice just before he stepped in, being sure to keep his back turned to you. He let the water run over his marred skin, trying to ignore every scar on his back burning. After letting the water wash off the pieces of dirt that it could, or him finally succumbing to the sensation of getting the soap to scrub at his mangled flesh;

Jason turned his head to grab the soap— FUCK, he whipped his head back around into the showers stream. Scrubbing his face to try to wash the burning image of you out of his mind. The mixture of water and light highlighting your skin like an portrait. You’re staring down towards your feet playing with the water droplets on your crossed arms- fuck he needed to stop thinking about it. Jason pulled his head out of the water, croaking out ”Soap.” Yes, yes, wise words I know.

The next thing he knew, right by his shoulder was your hand holding out the soap. “Here, hope I’m holding it in the right spot.” You softly chuckled to yourself. He turned enough to see you covering your eyes with your other hand out of his peripheral vision. God he needed to stop looking. He took it from you and skimmed his face against the water before he grunted out a thanks.

He was questioning himself as he washed his blemished skin. He wasn’t a creep, he wasn’t staring at you because it was sexual. So what was he doing? What was this feeling? Why did he want to look at you anyways? Why did it remind him of the way he looks at marble statues? Was it because of the way your fingers dented your arms skin while you glide water droplets along your skin? Was it the way your head slightly tilted? Was it the was your body was effortlessly posed? Like you knew, like you were ready for every detail of your body was going to be eternalized into marble? Was it because of the urge to trace every part of your skin? Maybe to just get a feeling of what your sculptor felt? Was he being a fuckin creep?

He wasn’t sure, something he suddenly did become sure of was the fact you were probably cold as shit and he needed to hurry the fuck up.

guys idk how to feel abt this fic tbh

rq / inbox is closed

sorry i got like 12 i needa get done

#arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #skullkidwithsunglasses #krash responds to u

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earthstellar · 4 months

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Miko and Holding a Grudge: Storytime is Learning Time

I was thinking about how in the final episode of TFP, Miko uses the "I'm going to beat your ass" armour to punch Knockout clean across the face

Miko punches him so quickly and efficiently that I genuinely could not get a screenshot of the impact moment. lmao

And there are a lot of good reasons for her to want to slap this twink into the stratosphere, but I was thinking about any specific grudges Miko might have personally against Knockout to help fuel that punch

Because typically Miko goes in with a sort of "I learned this by watching WWE with Bulkhead and I'm excited to hurt you" tiny human wrecker energy and is naturally hyped, so she tends to go in with a slightly showy approach to delivering a beatdown, which makes sense.

We know she watches stuff like monster truck rallies with Bulkhead, and we know she's watched Bulkhead and Wheeljack pretty closely, and this has had an impact on her developing her personal fighting style: High energy, maybe a couple attempts at some kind of signature moves. she's learned from TV shows and watching actual factional alien warfare play out in the Nevada desert. Shit's wild, and so is she.

But when she punches Knockout, it's a totally silent, quick, efficient hit-- which is pretty different to how Miko usually approaches "the smackdown".

Sure, part of it is because Knockout is sort of ruining a huge moment for the Autobots by quipping at a particularly annoying moment to do so, and she probably just wants him to shut the fuck up as quickly as possible so they can all get back to enjoying watching the revitalisation of Cybertron.

And they're all probably a bit tired from even managing to get to this point.

But then I remembered:

In the episode Flying Mind, Miko and Raf help Fowler off the Nemesis after he's been incapacitated.

But Jack stays behind, and when Knockout snaps out of Trypticon's stasis, he attempts to power drill through Jack's head/upper torso.

Ratchet comes through the ground bridge and punches Knockout, in the same way Miko punches Knockout in the series finale. One hit, and we're done here.

(Sorry for the crunchy quality screenshot, my internet connection is a bit crunchy itself at the moment lmao)

Now, Miko wasn't there to witness this, but we know Miko frequently asks the others to tell her about anything she misses, either because she's been asked to stay home or because things kicked off when she was otherwise not around. She likes to hear battle stories. She's actively jealous of the others when they get to go deal with cool shit and she can't for various reasons.

So we can assume that she asked Jack what happened, or perhaps Ratchet briefed everyone once the other Autobots were revived from temporary stasis, and she would have been present for that in the base.

Miko holds a grudge. There is an entire episode where her and Wheeljack essentially go on an ill-advised revenge mission after Bulkhead is injured. She operates on that mafia level shit, wanting revenge so badly that she essentially withholds information from Wheeljack until he agrees to let her tag along.

And while she learned from that experience, it does hint at the type of mindset she has-- Don't fuck with her friends, or she will very much hold onto that anger until she gets the chance to act on it.

When she punches Knockout, it's a quick, clean punch. Which makes sense contextually for that scene, she's not going to haul completely off on him in that moment.

But it also echoes how Ratchet dealt with him when Knockout was threatening Jack, and that seems like the kind of detail Miko would remember after having it described to her.

She has a bit of a vengeful streak, and even though she does learn not to act on desires for revenge, she's still a kid and god she loves fighting so much, and there is no way she forgot about that one time Knockout tried to kill her friend with a fucking drill-- Even if she didn't get to witness it, it's likely she was told about it in some way, and she's been holding onto that for a while.

So I just really like that her punching Knockout is a mirror of when Ratchet punched Knockout previously, because we know she's very good at paying attention to detail when it comes to fighting, and we know that she learns from observation and from listening to battle stories.

It makes a lot of sense if she just recognised Knockout as being that one bot who nearly killed Jack and remembered how Jack likely described the incident to her later (or may have gotten details from any debriefing Ratchet may have provided at the base), and in that moment recalled that Ratchet took him down in one hit, so she should probably just do the same.

It's quick, it worked before on this exact bot, it'll probably work again.

Miko does learn. She very much holds a grudge. And I like that even though her actions in the finale make sense even without the possible background connection to a prior episode, it does perfectly make sense either way.

You know she begged Jack for all the details later, and you know she committed that shit to memory.

If Ratchet can knock out Knockout, so can she.

And she's not having their victory moment fucked up by some dude who seriously put them in danger on many previous occasions, even if he came around to the "winning team" in the end.

anyway you just know Miko is a mascot for the Wreckers later on, like there's no way Wheeljack and/or Bulkhead doesn't custom paint the side of a ship at some point like a WW2 aircraft lmao but it's just a painting of Miko laughing maniacally while punching a boulder or something

#tfp #transformers prime #tfp ratchet #tfp jack #tfp miko #miko nadakai #jack darby #tfp knockout #long post #just thinkin #maccadam #maccadams #transformers #wreckers

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madamesinsalot · 11 months

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What if...

Moon completely accepts the insanity, the sadistic nature, and bloodthirstiness of the retched virus? He relishes in maniacally guarding their home while maiming every unwanted guest that enters the forbidden areas he and Sun’s claimed over time, that much is true. If that was the case though... how did he end up like this?

Ayooo! i finally FINALLY made part 2 of this snippet! I’m tempted to continue the story I’ve kept planning so far should you guys want it! :D please enjoy!

Here’s Sun’s Version, the beginning!

----------

When you first met Moon after forgetting your belongings one unnerving evening. You expected a lot of mishaps to arise like Chica’s munching escapades, or STAFF bots entering the weirdest areas of the plex. What you’ve never expected was the Lunar animatronic hunched over numerous wrecked robot parts, spasming heavily over the gruesome scene while clutching his wire-exposed spasming arm. From the cryptic warnings your uncle has reminded you of, the jester had every opportunity to throw you out for intruding the facility afterhours, especially when you were caught looking. Yet, instead of enacting the heinous deeds that were described to you... the glitching bot merely guided you out the front doors with only a calm wave, items returned, and that unreadable default smile.

You knew then and there that you had to know more about this msyterious character.

You remember the earful you had gotten from your Uncle the day after. It was brutal. Though you were a tad guilty and apologetic to the old man, your curiosity was far greater just from the reminder of that evening. In fact, it was the sole reason why you started visiting the daycare more frequently ever since. At first, the Moon-like automation was courteous, but wary. Sun moreso. Then that apprehension quickly melted away once they realized you’ve never bared any ill-will since speaking to them. Moon was especially forthcoming towards creating a bond at that point for some unexplained reason. And while you had theories, it didn’t bother you more than the worried glances your Uncle would give you at the mention of the attendant.

Goodness did he want to tell you everything. The unsolved murders both robotic and human, the faulty machinery they’d manipulate to spend more time with you, even the intentional spastic sparks that would shoot out of Moon all the time as a failsafe to talk to you. But the biggest and most troublesome aspect that your stoic Uncle would battle with was the lunar bot’s skilled evasions to getting caught and or decommissioned by the man himself.

Every piece of security footage, any type of recording depicting the attendant in anyway, or written notes your relative would make and stash away would usually end up getting destroyed; sometimes marked off as false information by the higher ups. All of that was Moon’s doing. Sun is the more dangerous, violent, and volatile of the caretaker AI while his counterpart prepared alibis and well-timed distractions, making the sunny jester open to whatever plan he’d receive in their coding to appear inviting and innocent to the public according to Moon’s plan. They made an efficiently menacing team, much to your Uncle’s chagrin.

It quickly became clear that things would be increasingly difficult since your arrival at the Pizza Plex. The wily night-themed animatronic had definitely caught on to your familial relation to the Janitor, taking any advantage to heighten your Uncle’s personal hell. This was especially true when you ended up being romantically pursued by the celestial duo themselves. Improvised dances, mutual petnames and long-lasting hugs were part of his own personal torture, and your own unaware bliss.

The moment... the absolute moment that your Uncle discovered he had truly lost you to the Daycare Attendant, was a seemingly normal night when he finished cleaning the last of the security rooms. He always made sure to find you before completely leaving the premises so as to carpool back to your respective homes, totally not to drag you away from the murder crazy jester. Not at all. Doing so also meant going to the daycare much to his exhaustion. It wasn’t a secret among the rest of the employees that you spend all of your free time there. That night though, things were different. The daycare was dark when the perimeter was brightly lit up. Wandering in, your Uncle fished out his flashlight, taking cautious step after cautious step through the cushioning and calling your name with absolute caution and vigilance. He would even flash his light in every direction when he came across the security desk, with every monitor and screen having been deactivated. An obvious omen. Ducking underneath the bridge led him the display forever seared into his mind. You were peacefully sleeping among pillows and a glowing star-clad lap. Surrounding you... or rather towering over you, was the ominous Moon animatronic. he jerkingly etched huge tears into the fabric of the foam padding. Whether it was due to the glitch, or the flashlight in your Uncle’s hand, the man wasn’t so sure. The sparks flying out of the bot flew out of different parts of the animatronic... it was probably the main reason you ultimately came to the daycare this late at night. Moon’s face though... was less than inviting when he glanced into those hostile eyes.

Seeing that made your Uncle reluctantly stay away within a nearby security room and watch over you through the security cameras for the rest of that night until you woke up hours later. The crazed machine was not helping matters when glaring at the every mounted camera in the Daycare’s vicinity. It wasn’t because he was scared of the lunar nightguard. Not really. No, the real reason he did it was because of the jester’s resolve... it was possessive. Dangerously so. If he hadn’t had years of dealing with their heinous acts to the point of gathering a psychological profile for each alter, he would’ve thought Moon was... protecting you. But that’s impossible! It can’t be true.

Can it?

Safe to say... That question was enough incentive to help your Uncle to stay awake that night... and every evening after that.

----------

AAAHHHHHHH! I missed you guys SO MUCH! Many things were happening in my hectic life that I had to go away for... yeesh, over a month??? Now that the stress has died down, I’m more than ready to get back into creating that sweet Sun and Moon content again. I’ll start with this and finishing up that Sun’s confession comic. I’ll see you guys until then! Love y’all!

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chiffxna · 11 months

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A Love Too Dark (01)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 01 - A Deal With The Devil

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 02

"I have to go now, mom," Yn Ln announced to her mother.

Upon hearing her say that, anyone would envision her saying that as she prepared to leave the house and informed that to her mother who was probably cooking in the dining room or handling house chores. Her father was probably napping or watching the television. The usual situation to a healthy family with a normal life, I bet one would say.

But no. It was the complete opposite.

Yn got up from the chair and put it back under the table where she had taken it previously. She glanced at her mother in the hospital bed. The older woman was quietly watching her with a pair of tired eyes, but upon realizing her daughter was looking at her, she put on a weak smile and said, "Be careful on your way home, dear."

Yn stepped closer to her bedside and grasped her hand. She regarded her mother with a sympathetic smile, "It'd be nice if you could come back home too."

Her mother tightened her hold on her oldest daughter's hand and replied, "Soon enough, honey. Soon enough. I just need to stay in the hospital for a long while. The doctors will do their best for me, you know. Then we can go home together."

Her mother was always an optimistic person and very patient. Her kindness knows no bounds and it's what kept her going through all the pain and suffering she had to endure. It hurt Yn so much to see her lying in that hospital bed, weak and frail. Her illness had taken a toll on her body and Yn wished there was some easy, quick way to make her better, but she knew the only path was through the expensive medical treatments needed for her recovery.

As Yn let go of her hand, she gave her a small peck on the forehead and whispered, "I'll visit you again tomorrow. Take care, mom."

Yn stepped outside the hospital and called for a CarRyte. She glanced at her wristwatch, realizing it was already seven in the evening. Her worry started to grow; she had an eight o'clock shift at the casino and she needed to be punctual, knowing her employer was particular with timeliness.

Soon enough, her ride arrived fast enough for Yn. She got into the CarRyte, breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in the seat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax but her mind was racing. She was worried about her mother and the mounting medical bills. Since her father had long deserted them, Yn was the one who had to take care of the family and was responsible for collecting enough money for her mother’s treatment.

Upon arriving at the casino, she went straight to a door on the side of the building. A notice with "No Entry" was glued to the door, though she did not heed it since she knew it was actually a door for the casino's staffs only. She then entered an empty corridor and headed straight for the staff's changing area. She was welcomed by her female co-workers who were all wearing a seductive black bunny outfit with bunny ears atop their heads. Each one had applied makeup differently - some went for a lighter look and others had gone for heavier makeup styles.

As she sat down at her table, a woman in her late twenties - already dressed up in their uniform which was the seductive black bunny outfit - approached Yn and said with an urgent tone, "Oh, Yn! Thanks God, you're finally here!"

Yn glanced at her with surprise and inquired, "Emily! What's the matter? Something happened?"

Emily suddenly placed a set of the bunny outfit on its hanger and hung it beside Yn's makeup table. Her actions were hasty and hurried which caused Yn to watch her with puzzlement. Emily paused as she gazed back at her best pal, then proceeded to shake her head in confusion before uttering, "Well? Get ready, girl! Mr. Malone told us all to finish up as soon as possible!"

That got Yn to immediately start her skincare routine while asking with urgent tone, "Oh, he did?! Why?!"

“Oh dear, you didn’t check your phone again, did you?” Emily shrugged as she hurriedly dragged a chair to sit beside her friend. She replied, "I don't know why but he did say there's something he's going to tell us. He wants us to be ready thirty minutes earlier than usual."

"Don't tell me he's going to scold all of us again," Sophia, one of their coworkers, who was sitting at her makeup table which was located next to Yn's, spoke up, apparently overhearing Emily.

"What did we do, though?" Emily said, rolling her eyes, as she began helping Yn in her makeup. She continued, "He praised us for our excellent work last night."

Emma, another coworker, stated, "Maybe he had checked the CCTV and saw Sophia sneaking a drink from behind the casino."

Sophia scoffed in response, "I wasn't sneaking! I was just taking a break and having a sip of... water."

The rest of the girls laughed in unison, knowing that Sophia just blatantly lied since there was a delay in her answer, a crystal clear sign that she was lying. Plus, she was notoriously famous among them - even Mr. Malone knew - for taking sips of alcohol behind the casino during her breaks. Yn hurriedly put on her light makeup with Emily’s help, still worried about what Mr. Malone wanted to tell them. She knew he was a strict employer but she didn't want to disappoint him, not when this was the highest paying job she'd ever gotten. Not when her mother's life depended on it.

Once Yn had done her makeup and slipped into her bunny costume, she stepped out of the staff's changing area with the other girls. They all then assembled in the casino, still devoid of customers since they hadn't opened yet.

There they saw Mr. Malone talking on the phone, seemingly anxious over something. Once he saw them, he hung up the phone abruptly without saying goodbye to whoever on the other side of the call. It was his habit to hang up curtly.

"Took y'all long enough," Mr. Malone began, "Right. I'm gathering you all here to tell you that tonight we will have a very important customer. A VVIP. A very, very important VVIP. He's rich, important, and very influential."

Some of the girls behind Yn tried to restrain their grin after hearing what their employer said. They were very much interested in this VVIP in an instant upon knowing it's a male and that he's rich. The latter added, "I want you all to cater to his needs and whatever he wants. Give your two hundred percent of excellent service for him!"

Then his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. The others knew this as a warning tone for them. He said darkly, "If I hear even one word of complaint from him about one of you, whoever it is will be fired on the spot."

Every girl instantly tensed up. Yn felt a lump form in her throat. She knew how high the stakes were. This job meant everything to her, and if she were to lose it, she wouldn't have anything to fall back on. She clenched her hands together, determined to give her best performance. She glanced around at her coworkers, who all seemed to share her anxiety. They all knew how strict Mr. Malone was, but this felt different. This felt like their livelihoods were on the line.

Mr. Malone stated, "I believe having one bunny-girl to accompany him tonight is crucial to ensure perfect service, so... Yn, would you be up for it?"

Yn was stupefied. She sensed all eyes were locked on her as she remained speechless. Mr. Malone noticed the startled look on her face and commented, "What? You accompanied a VIP last night and received nothing but praises from him. You could do the same for this VVIP tonight again, ain't cha?"

He made it sound so simple. But Yn was uneasy this time, aware that a mistake or unlucky accident might lead to her dismissal from the job she had done so well for months. Yn hesitated, unsure if she could handle the pressure of catering to a VVIP. She thought about the high possibility of losing her job and the fear of not being able to provide for her mother if she gets fired.

Suddenly, Amelia, another coworker of hers, put up her hand and spoke up, "Mr. Malone, I volunteer to accompany him, please."

All eyes, including Yn's, were thrown to Amelia. All of them were astounded and in disbelief. Mr. Malone looked at her skeptically, "Are you sure, Amelia? You've only been working here for a month. I'm not sure if you're ready for this level of service yet."

Amelia replied with confidence, "I'm sure, Mr. Malone. I'd love to take this opportunity."

Mr. Malone thought for a moment before nodding his head. "Alright then, Amelia. You'll be accompanying the VVIP as his bunny-girl tonight. The rest of you, all the other customers also deserve the best service from you. Got it?"

The girls all nodded their heads in agreement, relieved that the decision had been made and that they were not holding a huge risk of being fired above their head, though they were still under the risk if the VVIP even muttered a word of complaint about any of them.

Mr. Malone said, "That's all. Remember. Two hundred percent of excellent service. No complaint from him. Oh, and don't forget your mask, ladies."

All of them dispersed to prepare for the opening. Yn headed to the table behind the main casino and opened the first drawer. There she saw a bunch of new, plain black masks and grabbed one. Once she put it on, Amelia came up to her and said with a smile, "Hey, Yn. Could you get another one for me?"

"Sure," replied Yn as she picked one and gave it to her.

Amelia thanked her and put it on. She looked back at Yn and heaved out a sigh, saying, "Gosh, I'm nervous. I'm starting to regret volunteering."

"Hey, don't be nervous," consoled Yn, "You were confident to take on the job. Get that confidence back. You can do it, Amy."

Amelia smiled, though she could not hide the anxiety gleaming in her eyes. She then turned her body fully to face Yn and, with a soft and low tone, she said, "Umm, sorry if it seemed abrupt... like I'm taking that opportunity away from you. I just want to..."

Yn raised both of her eyebrows, awaiting Amelia to finish her sentence. The latter appeared at a loss for words, pondering on what to say next, that it gave a short delay in her sentence and made her feel awkward.

"I just want to prove that I could handle VVIPs," disclosed Amelia to Yn, "I know that Mr. Malone thinks less of me because I'm new. So I want to show him that I can do this."

Yn put her hand on Amelia's shoulder as a gesture of comfort and the former said with a soft smile, "Amy, don't overthink like that. As strict as Mr. Malone is, he is patient and he wants you to take all the time you need to improve. That's how he treated me before. He let me handle the easy tasks, then one day he suddenly said I'm ready and he told me to be a VIP's bunny-girl that night. You need to trust him and the process."

Amelia smiled at Yn, feeling a bit self-assured, though she ended up asking her, "Is it too late to back out now?"

Yn squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and responded, "Perhaps not too late, but hey. Try this opportunity first. Maybe the VVIP tonight is a good customer. You may never know."

Amelia took a deep breath, clearly attempting to soothe herself down, before she put on the mask. Yn also did the same, properly donning the mask, covering her nose and mouth with it, before she looked back at Amelia.

"You're wearing it tonight?" inquired Yn.

Amelia sent her a sly smile and said, "Yeah. Mr. Malone didn't exactly tell us who the VVIP is, so I'm wearing it just to be safe. Wouldn't want an elderly man groping me even though he's a billionaire."

Yn chuckled, "That's true. Anyway, I have to go and set the mask signs near the entrance. Good luck, Amy!"

Amelia replied back with a chirp, "You too!"

Yn went to grab a few stainless steel signage stand which depicted the mask system in this bunny casino. The signage plainly showed that there was such system here in the casino to protect the staffs and bunny-girls.

Yn brought the stands to the entrance and placed them on either side of the entrance door. She sent a smile to the casino bouncer before she looked back at the stand and read it:

Bunny-girls with mask, do not harass them in any way.

Bunny-girls without mask, may be propositioned for private rooms and physical contact with consent and tipping.

Yn took a deep breath and adjusted her bunny ears and the mask on her face, ensuring it concealed her nose and mouth properly. She then walked into the casino and helped her coworkers in preparing for the opening. Eventually, Mr. Malone opened the main door of the casino and announced its opening to everyone. Almost instantly, customers began streaming in as the music blared and the bunny-girls started attending to guests' needs.

As the night wore on, Amelia found herself concentrating deeply in her duty. She had become so preoccupied that any thought about the upcoming mysterious VVIP eventually faded from her mind. As she glanced around and checked on her fellow colleagues, it appeared that they were also busy serving and tending to the customers as well. The sense of responsibility was shared by everyone present.

Just then, Mr. Malone's voice echoed through the casino, "Attention all bunny-girls! The VVIP has arrived. I repeat, the VVIP has arrived. Please prepare to greet him at the entrance."

Yn's heart raced as she made her way to the entrance, joining the other bunny-girls as they all left the patrons they were tending to and lined up on both sides of the red carpet. She could feel the nervous energy in the air as they all waited for the arrival of the VVIP.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps growing louder against the marble floor caught Yn's attention. She glanced towards the entrance, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw a man with his bodyguards entering through the entrance.

He was tall with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. Adorned in a dashing all-white three-piece suit which was impeccably tailored to his muscular frame, accentuating every inch of his chiseled physique, he exuded an air of confidence and power that commanded attention from everyone in the casino. His piercing cold eyes looked straight ahead, briefly scanning the line of bunny-girls, including Yn.

For Yn, she was visibly transfixed and speechless at how gorgeous he was. Her mouth opened slightly as she gaped at the tall man in white. Her eyes widened and her gaze lingered on him for several seconds, unable to look away. His chiseled features and commanding presence had a captivating effect on her. The way he moved with confidence filled her with admiration and awe.

And she could tell that she was not the only one feeling the same.

Some of the bunny-girls in both queues visibly inhaled in complete awe of his stunning irresistibility. Very few even exchanged knowing glances and smiled in elation at the fact that they got a very charming customer.

"Goddamn, he's hot as fuck," whispered Emily.

Sophia joined in the hushed conversation, "Amelia is one lucky bitch."

"I know right," replied Emily, "If I knew he would be this sexy, I would have volunteered as tribute right away."

Emma chimed in a whisper with a dreamy gaze towards the VVIP, "I want to make out with him."

Emily added, "Bitch, I wouldn't just make out with him. If I have nothing to lose, I would've have knelt down in front of him by now, you know what I mean."

Those who heard her tried their hardest to refrain from chuckling. That's when Yn realized something. Most of the bunny-girls started to sneakily remove their mask. When some of them caught each other doing the same thing, they merely grinned mischievously and hid away their cloth. They were obviously hoping that they would catch the interest of the captivating VVIP.

Yn then cast her eyes onto Amelia who was supposed to be the attractive VVIP's personally bunny-girl. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of Amelia's fully revealed and blushing face. She had already removed the mask as soon as she laid her eyes on her customer. Yn chuckled inwardly in amusement.

As the VVIP strode closer to the end of the red carpet where stood Mr. Malone and Amelia, the former bowed respectfully to him and said, "The Marquis de Gramont, welcome to the Bunny Club Casino! I'm Adrian Malone, the owner of this establishment. Allow me to personally welcome you on behalf of the entire staff. If there is anything my humble establishment can provide for you, please don't hesitate to ask. This way, please."

The Marquis did not utter a word. Instead, he merely nodded his head in acknowledgment and let Mr. Malone lead him towards the luxurious VIP room. Amelia followed suit with the VVIP's bodyguards which was all clad in dark suits.

"Good luck, Amy!" Emma shouted in a whisper to Amelia, "You'll definitely need it!"

Amelia turned her head around to look back at her colleagues and sent them a thumbs-up and an excited grin, evidently feeling enthusiastic at having such dashing customer as her first personal client. She then entered the VIP room with the rest of them, disappearing from the others' view.

Yn smiled warmly, hoping that the new girl would have a great experience. She needed something to help her grow, and maybe the fact that the VVIP was quite attractive could give Amelia's self-esteem a much-needed boost.

"But oh my God!" Emily chirped to the rest of the bunny-girls, "He is the Marquis! Oh my God! The Marquis!"

"What's a 'markis'?" Emma asked innocently.

Emily sent her a silly deadpan stare and corrected her, "It's Marquis, you innocent goof. Marquis."

"That's how I said it, right?" said Emma, "Markis."

"It's Marquis," Emily then proceeded to spell it slowly for Emma. Once the latter got it, Emily added, "Anyway, a Marquis is a nobleman. And not just any nobleman, he's one of the most influential and powerful figure in all of France. It's like he's practically royalty. That means he's got the wealth, power and connections! And he's here, in our casino!"

"Yeah, no wonder Mr. Malone warned us to do our best service. It's because the VVIP is a Marquis," Sophia interjected, suddenly sounding grim out of the blue, "But hey. Now that we know who he is, I heard he's a powerful French aristocrat but he also seems to be involved with the underworld, you know. He is dangerous."

Yn was taken aback by Sophia's sudden dark comment. She had never heard anything about the Marquis. This was her first time learning and meeting him and she'd already heard of unsavory rumors about him. Sure, it's just rumors. But Sophia was known to be well-informed about the latest gossip in the casino. She couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to her words.

"Woah, that's crazy. Is that true?" Emma asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Sophia shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know. Just rumors, I guess. But he's not someone to be messed with, that's for sure. Just be careful, girls."

Emily rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Don't start with the scary stories, Sophia. It's probably made by some geezer who is jealous of him. Sure, he's rich but that doesn't necessarily mean he's dangerous and is involved with crime. And we all know that not everything that people talk here is true."

Yn nodded in agreement. She didn't even want to think of any possible risk of danger tonight. Not when Amelia was with the man in question.

"Well, if Mr. Malone allows such man walk into his casino, I'm sure everything will be fine," Yn said, trying to change the subject, "In the meantime, let's focus on our duties. We don't want to keep any of our clients waiting."

The others nodded in agreement, and the bunny-girls dispersed around the casino floor, tending to the needs of their customers who were enjoying with everything the casino had to offer.

Approximately thirty minutes had passed and every staff was fully focused on their task, living up to their boss' expectation and ensuring that the customers had nothing but the best experience at the Bunny Club Casino. Yn was in the middle of serving a round of drinks when Emily appeared next to her and whispered, "Hey, you notice that Mr. Malone hasn't come out of the VIP room yet?"

Yn threw a quick glance at the door of the VIP room before she looked back at her close friend and replied, "Maybe he's discussing about something with the Marquis? He is not going to let someone as important as that getting away."

Emily snorted, "Maybe he wants to make another casino in Paris? Well, that does sound like him. But aren't you curious why the Marquis came to our casino in the first place?"

"Maybe he wants to enjoy it while he's staying in our country," Yn guessed as she picked up the glasses and used plates from a table which a bunch of patrons had just left.

"But fishy, you know," commented Emily, "But Amy is one lucky girl. Even if the Marquis is shady, he's practically sex on legs."

Yn couldn't argue on that. The Marquis was undeniably attractive. But she didn't want to think too much about someone who was way too good for her or someone who’s going to stay a stranger to her. That was how she evaded being attached to any man whom she saw no future with.

Suddenly, Emma rushed towards them, looking panicked, "Guys!"

Yn and Emily's eyes widened in surprise at her unforeseen appearance. Emma gasped out in panic before she told them, "Amy's crying! She's in the staff's changing room!"

Yn's heart sank at the news. She knew in an instant that something terrible had happened in the VIP room and unfortunately the victim of the situation was Amelia. Yn and Emily exchanged wide-eyed glances before the three of them rushed towards the changing room.

As they got closer, they could hear the sounds of Amelia's sobs getting louder. Yn's heart raced as she pushed open the door to the changing room and found Amelia sitting on a couch with tears streaming down her face. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a mess. Sophia was already by her side, consoling her to no avail apparently. Upon hearing the door opening, Amelia looked up and noticed the three girls, her eyes puffy and red.

"What happened, Amy?" Emily asked, her voice laced with concern.

Amelia sniffled and wiped at her eyes before finally speaking up, "It's the Marquis..."

She delayed as she took a shaky breath, somehow not breathing properly due to her crying fit. Sophia started rubbing her back up and down as Yn, Emily and Emma stayed standing before them.

Amelia's voice was scratchy and strained, broken up by her gasps and sobs, as she tried to explain, "I was standing by the sofa while he was talking with Mr. Malone. Then... he saw that huge wall painting in that VIP room. You guys know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Emma, "There is a huge abstract art in that room. Yn actually brought that."

Yn nodded her head, recognizing which painting that was and wordlessly admitting that it was that same painting she had given Mr. Malone one month ago.

Amelia spoke up, "Yes, that. The Marquis stared at it and he didn't even listen to Mr. Malone's offer to collab together. Then he spoke about how that abstract painting is full of meaning and whatever it is. And I laughed. Suddenly, he looked at me but he seemed angry. It's like I offended him but I didn't! I just snorted!"

She continued, "Then, while he's glaring at me as if I'm a cockroach, he said to Mr. Malone that a collab with this casino would be stupid since he's hired someone uneducated like me to work here!"

Amelia's face crumpled in fresh tears as she buried her face in her hands. Her sobs intensified as she recounted the Marquis' words, causing Sophia to rub her back even harder. The rest of the bunny-girls in the room were speechless.

Yn felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about the Marquis' arrogance and his ability to make Amelia feel so small. She knew that the Marquis was a powerful man who had a reputation for being difficult to deal with, but she never thought that he would be so cruel to someone who could not control herself from laughing.

Emily moved to sit next to Amelia on the couch and put her arm around her, "Don't listen to him, Amy. He's just a snob. You're talented and smart. You don't need his approval."

"But... but..." Amelia stammered while sniveling, "What about Mr. Malone? The Marquis ridiculed me. He complained about me. Mr. Malone would fire me! I don't want to lose this job! Even if I have to dress in this sexy bunny costume, it pays well! We get tips every day! I can't lose this!"

Yn's heart sank as she watched Amelia break down further. She knew how desperate Amelia was for this job and how much it meant to her. Like Yn, she also came from a family with financial problem. Yn couldn't let the Marquis' rude behavior ruin everything for Amelia.

"We won't let that happen, Amy," Yn said, her voice firm and full of conviction. "We'll talk to Mr. Malone. We'll make sure he knows that the Marquis was the one out of line and that you don't deserve to be treated that way."

Amelia looked at Yn with tear-filled eyes, hope shining in her gaze. Sophia nodded her head in agreement and Emily joined in saying, "Yeah, forget about him. He's a fuckwad! And we'll convince Mr. Malone for you!"

Yn, Sophia, and Emily exchanged determined glances, all agreeing to help Amelia in any way they can. Without even discussing it properly, they knew with a glance that they would altogether rush into Mr. Malone's office and persuade him forcefully. Seeing the overwhelming support from her friends, Amelia wiped away her tears and smiled warmly at them, the first one in a while.

"Thank you..." Amelia said, her voice filled with sincere gratitude, as she looked down and wiped the dried tears on her cheeks.

Yn smiled back at her, "We are here for you, Amy. You may not get to see Anita. She recently quitted as a bunny-girl but she kept telling us that bunny-girls stick together and help each other out. That's exactly what we're going to do."

Amelia's smile widened as she stared at Yn. The dense, oppressive atmosphere in the room suddenly dispersed, replaced with an uplifting sense of camaraderie and support as they all shared a moment of unity and solidarity. They all knew that no matter what, they would always have each other's backs.

Suddenly, the door to the changing room was pushed open. They looked to see it was Rachel, another bunny-girl who was not close with them. Rachel observed them for a moment, sensing that some drama had transpired. She then noticed the puffy and red eyes of Amelia and her smudged makeup. Understanding dawned in her head, knowing that something bad had happened while Amelia was serving the VVIP.

She didn’t ask for any detail. Instead, she turned to someone else and informed, "Yn, Mr. Malone called for you at the VIP room."

With that, she spun around and left the dressing room. Everyone was quiet after her statement, taking some time to process what they had heard. A nervous energy filled the air.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open again and Rachel came in halfway, looking at them. She then added, "Now."

That seemed to snap everyone out of their trance and Yn glanced at her friends, noticing the uneasiness on their face. Amelia seemed particularly worried for her. Knowing there was no escape from the predicament, Yn took a deep breath. She then excused herself before heading out with Rachel away from the changing room.

Once they arrived at the door of the VIP room where bodyguards were stationed, Rachel left, leaving Yn to prepare herself for what's about to come. The latter took a moment to compose herself, even checking if the mask on her face was properly put on, before pushing open the door and letting herself in quietly.

Black and gold furniture dominated the room with velvet sofas and chairs; a grand chandelier hanging in the center. Gleaming golden accents adorn the walls and luxurious rugs ran across the floor. The whole ambiance was regal, hinting at sophistication and power; the lighting was dimmed, creating an intimate atmosphere.

There she saw the Marquis de Gramont, standing in front of the huge abstract painting. Even the way he stood screamed power and confidence. His eyes were fixated on the gigantic wall art as if it was an entity he wanted to understand. It was that moment Yn figured that the Marquis was a person who truly appreciated and cherished art which explained why he spoke lowly of Amelia for laughing at a painting.

"Psst!"

She threw a glance at the source of the sound and realized it was Mr. Malone. He gestured for her to come closer to him. Once she did, he whispered at her with a reprimanding tone, "Yn, take over Amelia's place! She couldn't keep her mouth shut and the Marquis is pissed! Now do your job and get his desserts from the kitchen!"

In an instant, Yn rushed off to the kitchen to get the desserts which the Marquis had requested. The delicacies were ready to serve by the time she arrived so she wasted no time, snatching them up from the counter before scurrying back to the VIP room.

As she opened the door, she heard multiple voices in the VIP room. It was the Marquis and Mr. Malone conversing and the subject was apparently about more paintings in the establishment.

"Yes, I agree!" Mr. Malone sounded enthusiastic of the idea, but for those who knew him well like Yn, she knew it was just a facade to make the Marquis happy. Mr. Malone continued, "That's an amazing idea! Aesthetic paintings all over the casino would surely liven up the space! If you want, you could recommend suitable paintings for my humble establishment!"

The Marquis turned around after staring at the abstract painting for so long. He strode back to sit down on the black and gold sofa. Yn took another deep breath before she approached him with a tray of desserts in her hand.

The Marquis didn't even look at her when she approached him. He was too engrossed staring at the abstract painting again while absentmindedly listening to Mr. Malone who was trying his best to flatter the Marquis and keep him happy. Yn surmised that he was a man of refined taste and didn't like to be disturbed when he was deep in thought so she took extra care not to make any noise as she set the tray of desserts down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Art evokes emotions and enhances the atmosphere," the Marquis spoke up, rendering Yn speechless as this was the first time she heard him speak. His French accent was clear and distinct. It actually made him sound intelligent and intimidating. He added while Yn was carefully placing his desserts on the table, "It's crucial to display more paintings in a casino. It creates a captivating and immersive environment for patrons to enjoy."

"Such beautiful words, sir!" crowed Mr. Malone, "I see that you really appreciate art and beauty, and I couldn't agree more. I am honored to have you see my establishment!"

The Marquis didn't respond. Instead, while Yn was arranging the placement of the desserts on the table, he reached out to grab one of them without glancing at her. He took a small scoop, savoring the flavor.

Yn got up to her full height and walked away to stand by the side of the sofa the Marquis was sitting on. That's when he gestured to the abstract painting which he had been staring non-stop and inquired Mr. Malone, "I like this. Where did you buy this?"

Yn tensed up and Mr. Malone stuttered, a bit taken aback by the sudden question. He sneaked a glance at Yn and responded, "Umm... I did not buy it, sir. My staff here, Yn, actually handed this to me for my birthday."

He even gestured to Yn as he disclosed how he had gotten the painting. Suddenly, the Marquis lifted his head and looked at Yn properly for the first time. She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She stayed mute, choosing to stare at the floor to not make eye contact with the Marquis so as not to offend him. She could feel his piercing gaze on her as he looked her up and down, taking in every detail about her.

For a moment, the Marquis said nothing. He continued to stare intently at Yn, making her feel uneasy. She could feel the intensity of his gaze and it made her skin crawl.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Marquis spoke up, "Yn. And your last name?"

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the Marquis addressed her. She took a deep breath before responding in a low voice, "Ln, sir."

The Marquis nodded slowly in response, his eyes still glued on her figure. The deep resonance of his voice seemed to linger in the air as he enunciated her full name as if savoring the taste of it on his tongue, "Yn Ln."

Yn subconsciously looked at him as her whole name was mentioned. She then made eye contact with him. His eyes were deep pools of darkness that seemed to drink in her very soul. It was an intimidating yet mesmerizing sight and she felt as if time had stopped and all was silent around her.

Then, as if feeling shocked and in disbelief at what she did, she swiftly looked away, staring hard at the floor as she prayed inwardly that she did not screw anything up.

The Marquis smirked to himself, amused by Yn's reaction. He then took another bite of the dessert on the tray and leaned back on the sofa, his eyes still fixed on her.

His voice was smooth and velvety as he said, "That painting is impressive. Who is the painter?"

Yn could not help but feel like he was testing her and what she knew of the painting. She cleared her throat before responding softly, "It is Wassily Kandinsky."

The Marquis nodded thoughtfully, still staring at Yn intently, "Ah, Kandinsky. I figured. I've always found his work to be intriguing. The use of color and shape to evoke emotion is quite remarkable."

He finally tore his gaze away from Yn, shifting them to Mr. Malone who was standing anxiously next to the sofa the Marquis was occupying. The latter told him with an air of authority and power, "I want more paintings like this in the casino. Find me more of Kandinsky's works or any other abstract art that you think would fit the atmosphere here."

"Certainly, sir," Mr. Malone responded, "Does that mean you agree to have my business under your wing? Twenty percent cut for you?"

Yn's eyes widened as she silently observed. Hearing that, she then had an inkling of the true purpose the Marquis came to the casino.

The Marquis suddenly stated with a small smirk, "Forty for me."

Mr. Malone's face fell in disbelief at the Marquis' counteroffer. "Forty? But sir, please reconsider. This casino-"

The Marquis leaned forward on the sofa with his hands still holding the desserts, his eyes turning sharp and cold as he spoke in a low, menacing tone, "Do not question my terms, Adrian Malone. If you want my protection, forty it is."

Mr. Malone was nonplussed. The VVIP stared at him with a smug look before he added, "Unless you want to increase my cut to fifty."

Mr. Malone swallowed hard, knowing that he had no choice but to agree. "Of course, sir. Forty it is."

The Marquis leaned back on the sofa, grinning smugly, feeling satisfied with Mr. Malone's compliance, "Then we have a deal, Malone."

He turned his attention back to his delicacies and scooped a spoonful of ice cream. He closed his eyes and savored the sweetness, relishing the taste as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Yn watched him silently. There was a certain air of mystery surrounding him that screamed danger. She couldn't help but feel intimidated and scared of him, even though he was tasting the desserts like a child.

Suddenly, the Marquis opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he caught her staring. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a sly smile as he said, "Would you like some?"

Yn averted her gaze meekly, feeling her cheeks flush, as she shook her head, "No, thank you, sir."

"Are you certain?" the Marquis asked, his French accent thick and his voice holding an amused tone.

Yn swallowed hard, looking at him through her eyelashes shyly. She could feel his piercing gaze on her and it made her feel uneasy.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Marquis chuckled softly as he stared at her unwaveringly. All of a sudden, he rose to his feet with his desserts still in his hand. Then he began to make his way towards Yn, causing the bunny-girl to be alarmed and anxious. His gaze was deep and sharp as he strode towards her slowly, taking his time while exuding an air of power.

Yn stared at the floor, feeling a huge sense of unease wash over her, as she heard his footsteps growing louder towards her. Soon enough, he stood in front of her. The height difference between them was huge since he was a very, very tall man.

She was no longer staring at the floor. Instead, it was his chest and his dashing three-piece suit. The fabric hugged his figure perfectly, making him look even more imposing. She kept her gaze on his chest, not wanting to meet his gaze and make eye contact.

The Marquis then bent down, leaning his head downward that his face ended up entering Yn's view. Her eyes widened in shock and terror as she couldn't help but look up to meet his gaze. He was bending his head down to have her look at him directly. His tall, powerful figure loomed over her as his head dipped down, head-level with hers. His face was stern, unflinching and demanding her attention. His expression conveyed a sense of power and dominance over her as if he was expecting her to obey his commands.

With his face close to her, he smirked and said, "Finally, you look at me."

Yn was transfixed by his gaze, her wide eyes unmoving as she observed his face. His expression was firm and fierce, yet at the same time there was a hint of smugness and confidence in his smirk as he studied her. His deep eyes seemed to bore into her and she could feel the power emanating from him. His close proximity to her made her feel vulnerable. She was speechless under his gaze, unsure how to respond but it seemed that he was fine with her making eye contact with him.

While he fixed his deep gaze on her, he addressed to someone else, "Malone, explain to me about the mask system here."

That caused Yn to register that she was still donning the black mask, concealing her nose and mouth effectively. Mr. Malone was taken aback by the sudden question directed at him and he explained, "Umm... To protect the bunny-girls, I establish the system that the girls with mask are off-limits. Customers are not allowed to harass them or touch them in any way without explicit consent. However, the bunny-girls without masks can be asked for a private room and physical contact is allowed within limits."

The Marquis nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Yn's face, "Interesting."

Mr. Malone breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the Marquis seemed to approve it. However, the Marquis wasn't finished with Yn as he asked her with a smirk, "So, Yn, remove your mask for me."

Yn's heart thudded in her chest as she stared at the Marquis, her body frozen in place. She knew she couldn't take off her mask, not now, not ever. Taking the mask off would reveal her true identity to some stranger and would bring danger to herself.

"I-I can't, sir," she stuttered out, her voice barely audible.

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his smirk remained as if her denial was a joke to him, "And why not?"

Yn bit her lip, her mind racing. She had to come up with a plausible excuse, and fast. "It's uh... I feel much safer wearing a mask."

The Marquis gave a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. His lips then parted to let out a deep and throaty chuckle. But then, in the blink of an eye, the smirk fell and his features hardened. His voice deepened as he spoke with an undeniable authority, "Take off your mask."

Yn's eyes widened with fright as she stared at the Marquis, her gaze only broken as she shifted it towards Mr. Malone in hope for help. However, instead of support, she found only his hard frown and stern gaze, conveying his lack of help. Yn's heart plummeted and she knew there was no escape from the situation.

Trembling with fear, Yn slowly lifted her hand to remove the elastic strap that held the mask in place. Her fingers fumbled as she struggled to undo the clasp. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed to remove the mask and reveal her face to the Marquis.

For a moment, he stared at her intently, his gaze scanning her features with an intensity that made Yn feel exposed and vulnerable as if she was standing naked in front of him. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his intense stare.

"Hmm," he harrumphed thoughtfully, his voice low and husky that way.

Yn felt her cheeks flush, feeling somewhat embarrassed at how he judged her. She didn't know how to respond, so she simply stayed mute, keeping her gaze on his chest.

That's when she saw him scoop a spoonful of ice cream and neared it towards her mouth. He dipped his head down again, letting his face enter her vision, before he said with a smirk, "Open your mouth."

Yn hesitated for a moment but the Marquis stared at her expectantly, the spoon still held up to her lips. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth, allowing the Marquis to feed her the ice cream. The cold sweetness of the ice cream flooded her senses as it melted within her mouth.

The Marquis watched her carefully as she savored the treat, his eyes glinting with amusement. He seemed to be enjoying her reaction, relishing in the power he held over her. Yn felt the intensity of his gaze and it made her feel both intimidated

He slowly withdrew the spoon from her mouth and looked her in the eye with an intensity that made her feel exposed. His eyes glittered with amusement as he then licked the spoon, savoring the melted ice cream on its surface. The whole sight caught her off guard and she quickly looked away in embarrassment. The act seemed almost dirty and sinful and she couldn't help but feel intimidated by the power the Marquis held over her.

A smirk curved his lips before he suddenly turned and walked away from her. He put away the cup of dessert and strode towards the door of the VIP room while saying, "I'm delighted to have come to an arrangement with you, Malone. As a result of our meeting, it is established that I am the new owner of this casino. And you shall remain in charge as the managing director."

As he arrived at the door, he spun around and gave a pointed look at Mr. Malone and asked firmly, "Am I right?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Mr. Malone, seemingly hesitant to say it, "I will tell every staff about this."

The Marquis tilted his head with a smug smile, "Good. And as for you, Yn..."

Yn became alarmed once again. He turned his gaze back towards her and wore a smirk on his face as he said with his voice low and velvety, "Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

Yn felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, not understanding what those words meant. The Marquis then stepped out of the VIP room and he was quick to be joined by his bodyguards who were waiting for him outside the door. Yn was then left alone with Mr. Malone.

As soon as the Marquis left, Yn quickly put on her mask and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Mr. Malone looked at her and gave out a huge sigh and said, "Well, at least that went well. A deal is secured."

Yn nodded, still feeling a bit shaken from the encounter. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "Yeah, but he's… intense."

Mr. Malone chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, "That's the Marquis for you. He's not one to be trifled with."

Yn looked at him, confused, and she inquired, "But that man, the Marquis... I've never heard of him before."

Mr. Malone's expression turned serious, "The Marquis is not someone you want to cross, Yn. He's a powerful man with connections in all the wrong places. Even if he's from France, he could find you and ruin your life if he wants to. You should be careful around him. But, now that he has agreed to have us under his wing, this business would be well-protected in finance and safety."

Yn slowly nodded, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her stomach but she knew that there was no turning back now. The deal was done and they were now under the Marquis' protection.

But, working with the Marquis would be dangerous, she mused. And she did not want to see him anymore for the rest of her life but it seemed like she didn't have a choice. As Mr. Malone stood up to leave, Yn couldn't help but feel a pang of consternation as she watched him go. She was alone now and the Marquis's words were still ringing in her ears.

"Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

She didn't know what those words meant but they sounded sinister. Yn shook her head, trying to push away the fear that was gripping her. She stood up and started cleaning up the room and leftover desserts.

NEXT : Chapter 02

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#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #john wick chapter 4 #reader insert #vincent de gramont x reader #female reader #tw dubcon #tw noncon

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pumpkzsafeplace · 2 months

Text

a│s : agere & caregivers

if you're new to the little world, or are just looking for some information for a friend on caregivers ~ this is the post for you!

what are caregivers?

'caregiver' is the title given to the individual who takes on the role to care and look after a little one. usually the caregiver would go by another title such as, bun, mommy, papa etc depending on their personal relationship with their caregiver.

what are their purpose?

their purpose is to help a little one through their regression. usually by postive re-enforcement and planning things to do to keep them busy (i.e colouring, panting - anything the little finds fun). caregivers are there to ensure no harm comes to the little, and that they'e safe to regress to whatever age they need to be.

is it a sfw relationship?

yes.

age regression is often used to help heal from trauma or are a side effect from an already prominant illness (such as autism, bipolar, bpd etc).

there is no sexual aspect whatsoever.

it is a complete platonic relationship built on trust, care and kindess.

yes, somebody who is your partner can also be your caregiver, but those two roles are completely seperate with one another. this is a heathy healing & innocent mindset.

can anyone be a caregiver?

yes!

if you enjoy looking after others & think you want to try it, then give it ago <3. remember to do your research beforehand! don't just jump into this role with no idea of what it intails, as that can upset both you and the little in question.

validation towards caregivers.

sometimes it can be hard for caregivers to be caregivers.

life can get in the way, their mental health can suddenly dip, they could have outside demands that are making them busy, and sometiems they just don't have the time or mental energy to be a caregiver for the moment.

& that is completely valid.

caregivers are humans to with human emotions.

they are allowed to step back when needed, and take some breaks to help with their own healing journey, it doesn't make them less or a bad caregiver & it doesn't make you a bad little either.

remember communication is important to battle those icky overthinking thoughts.

praise for caregivers <3

i just want to add this little section at the bottom,

i'm so so so so so proud and grateful to all of those who take on a caregiving role to help out the little ones in need.

you are such an inspiration to us all, and i hope you realise how much we appreicate & value you you in this community.

thank you so so so so much for being you! <3

gif isn't mine

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morinuu · 4 months

Note

LISTWN TO ME I JUST READ YOUR TAMAKI ANGST AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE SO FICKING GOOD??

A she falls but he falls harder

Reader finally gets over it and stops coming, moving on and focusing on herself, and he notices and starts realizing how he took her for granted

And then its him that's loosing his mind and shit like that. Dude. Dude. I'm loosing my MIND you write so well

first of all ty for the compliment >< so glad u liked it im blushing and giggling!! secondly im not sure abt the reader completely abandoning tamaki's side (i love being delulu), but i do have smth else in mind that's kinda similiar n i hope its satisfactory :3 i changed only a minor part from the og :P i wanna make this a small series..... maybe like 3-4 parts.. anw this is pt 1

☀︎｜tamaki x female reader. almost 4k words. continuation of this. ure sick, yamada hinata & aoko r just some ppl i made up for the plot, tamaki's pretty stupid n emotionally unintelligent, lots of feelings and background information, y'all r childhood friends, there's like one 4th wall break but i thought it was kinda funny so i kept it

you weren't a fan of february.

allergy season was your absolute worst, the wheezing and coughing sucking the life out of you as you struggled to change out of your clothes to get the day started. you didn't sleep much, interrupted constantly by your sore throat aching and squeezing.

sure, it's just hay fever to everyone else, but for a young woman who carried around an inhaler, it's hell. well, almost hell.

what was truly hellish wasn't the fatigue or the sneezing, but your mum dragging you back in the house and forbidding you from going to school until you're well enough to study again. how were you supposed to keep up with chemistry class if you skip?

not that your parents cared for your grades; they knew you could just enter whatever field you wanted with the connections your family held, but it felt nice to be awarded for working hard.

after your personal maid let out a small "pardon me, miss" and carried you back to bed, you realised that the feeling your soft quilt hugging your cold limbs would never be beaten by the jacket you desperately clung on to warm yourself in p.e - which just so happened to be your first period that day and you were dreading it.

"i'll be making you some tea, miss. would you like to breakfast now?" your maid's quiet voice addressed you, hoping you'd just sleep the illness off as you usually did so she could rest too.

to be fair, you weren't a very easy master to please, so could you blame her?

"i'll breakfast la-" a cough and some wheezing "-i'll breakfast later, bring some english breakfast with a slice of lemon." you said nothing else, instead focusing on calming your throat that seemed to intensify in soreness. "a pastille too."

"understood my lady, i'll be right back." she bowed and excused herself from your room, ignoring your groans of annoyance as you buried your face into the pillow.

"damn it." you muttered and extended your hand to grab your phone from your bedside table. unlocking it with the passcode (because you weren't in the mood to lift your head and let your phone scan your face) you squinted as the light mode of a social media app hit your eyes harshly, forcing you to use muscle memory to lower the brightness to its minimum.

you scrolled through, liking your friends' private posts and decided to message one of them.

yn.spam: gm dude, i cant come to school today cus im sick. can u do me a favour n tell aoko to give me her notes? she never looks at her messages.

with your phone back on the table to wait for a response, you lied back comfortably and closed your eyes, because as much as you wanted to watch something on netflix or play a video game, you didn't want to make things worse for yourself.

you grew impatient for the cup of tea your maid was brewing, rotating between wheezing, checking your phone and staring at the ceiling. it seemed like the seconds weren't passing by at all.

soon enough, your maid comes back with some fancy tray carrying a kettle, your favourite mug (the one your daddy drank from when you were a little girl before your parents divorced), a tiny plate with some lemon slices and a small box of pastilles as throat medicine.

you didn't thank the woman when she helped you sit up, nor when she stayed by your side to make sure you didn't choke between coughs and burnt yourself with the hot liquid. just as you took your first sip, your phone lit up to show your friend's response.

thatguyhinata: Ayooo gppd morning. Sry to hear tht. Sure if I see her I'll telm her.

the irises in your eyes rolled upwards at the boy's typos that irked you every time, completely ignoring how he didn't wish for your recovery.

yn.spam: thanks yamada

you never used any of your circle's first names, which your mum always found weird.

'you sure these are your friends, darling?' she would ask often, and your response would always be the same:

'yeah mum. leave me be.'

only tamaki had ever felt close enough to be called by his first name.

after swallowing your medicine, you dismissed the older woman standing over you and pulled your quilt over your quivering form again.

"gods, please let this be over soon."

...

well.

...turns out, you gotta be much more specific with what you ask of gods, because they might not have the same understanding of the word 'soon'.

here you are, three days later, with your allergy having been combined with a virus that'd been going around, intensifying your asthma symptoms and raising a high fever, making your mother and doctor ban you from walking into ouran.

halfway throughout the day, you realise what had been completely slipping your mind while your lungs were occupied inhaling abnormally.

"i have an appointment today!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, raising from the bed like lazarus from his grave.

"...?" the new maid next to you didn't say anything, she was clearly concerned. after some seconds of you overthinking something, she spoke up. "you have no other doctor's appointment today, my lady. he just left 10 minutes ago."

you shook your head quickly, ignoring the dizziness brought by your fever "bring me my phone," the girl was puzzled "now!"

bowing a quick apology, she rushed to your desk and handed you your phone with both hands, not daring to look up. you disliked new maids; they were inexperienced and annoying, but scolding her would have to wait.

"damn it, damn it, damn it!" you murmured under your breath and tapped furiously on your phone, trying to find where the hell you'd written kyouya's business e-mail address.

you had it saved as every other client of the host club had, but you had never actually used it, not once.

you never missed an appointment, and always booked the next one tete-a-tete with the black-haired manager. if you became a no-show without prior notice, wouldn't that look bad? would it annoy kyouya and he wouldn't accept you in the club again?

well no, but you had the habit of overthinki-

'would it annoy tamaki?'

you groaned and murmured to yourself - had you deleted it? maybe it was in your notes app and you erased it? was it on your old phone from a month ago?

"find an e-mail for me." you ordered the maid who looked up at you perplexed, but carried out the order nonetheless.

the girl was embarrassed when she found out her master was asking for a host's email, wanting the earth to swallow her when she dialed the ouran academy's number. 'the stuff i do for money..' she thought and prayed her family never found out.

it wasn't a long process to retrieve the address, but what was, was the rant hitting the maid's ears when your overthinking about what to write left your mouth at incredible speeds.

"should i say i'm sick? but he already knows that- he's in my class! maybe tell him to give my time to another girl? no wait, he would do that anyway... or after i apologise, i'll say that, like, something came up- but that's not believable enough... ugh!" you buried your face in your pillow and, unbeknownst to you, your new maid's eye was twitching in annoyance.

she understood now why your personal maid took the week off just when you got sick - not that she understood how and why your mum allowed it though.

(it's because you can be insufferable and she gets it.)

"my lady, may i help?" the girl let out, clearing her throat when you lifted your head from the pillow. "i can write the e-mail myself, please focus on resting."

after some convincing, you gave in.

and so 10 minutes later, back at ouran, kyouya's phone let out a ting! with your full name on the notification. he'd already guessed you wouldn't show up to your appointment considering you hadn't come to school in three days, and already had someone to fill your place but left it for the last moment in case you did show up.

why? well you were ln yn, and it was painfully obvious you were smitten with his best friend, though he could say it was a bit different from the rest of the clientele.

probably due to the fact that you'd known tamaki for much longer than kyouya had. and yet tamaki didn't seem to have the same fascination with you.

he remembers when he first met you, when he'd heard that you were spoiled rotten and weren't even planning to enroll in ouran until tamaki did. you simply transferred to be with the boy.

literally everyone knew of ln yn's almost freakish obsession with suoh tamaki, except for the victim himself.

so imagine his surprise at the strictly professional e-mail he'd received from you, where not a single mention of your host was included. weird.

after glancing at the french boy in the seat next to him eating his bowl of some-sort-of-commoner-convenience-store lunch, kyouya quickly typed a response and informed the next girl in line that a spot was open 'for tamaki's hosting services at 15:35'.

"one of your appointments cancelled due to a personal issue. we'll have someone else fill it." kyouya told tamaki, just as stated in the e-mail, even though it was pretty clear you were sick, and he couldn't figure out why you'd lie.

"hm? oh, okay!" the brunet smiled and went back to devouring his meal, not thinking much of kyouya's words.

kyouya pondered if he should tell him the client was his loyal friend yn, who would never skip out on seeing tamaki, but he stopped himself, curious as to how it would all play out.

eh, if the twins could have fun, so could he.

"oh! haruhii! daddy's here!"

the hours passed so slow you were almost convinced time was frozen when you weren't glancing at the clock on your laptop.

the drama you'd been watching started to lose its interest after presenting the third plot twist in a row, annoying you with all the plot holes it left gaping.

sipping on your green tea (you'd been drinking tamaki's recommendation, pomegranate, only to throw all of it in the trash when you heard he gave the same advice to haruhi), you paused the show and sighed in absolute, tyrannical boredom.

by now you'd normally have finished your classes and walked to music room #3, your favourite among them all.

you'd be welcomed by a host and walked to a sofa to wait for your appointment, ignoring any other girl in the waiting area trying to pick a conversation with the middle child of the ln family.

and soon enough you'd be approached by your one and only taking your hand in his and kissing it to greet you, with his blue eyes staring up at you innocently like a man in love; a look he gave to any woman nowadays, it was second nature to him.

you got lost in them so often, he sometimes dared to ask you if you didn't enjoy his company and that's why you spaced out so much.

preposterous.

you? disliking tamaki? how could he think that after all these years you spent playing together, with you transferring to his school for his sake, swallowing your pride and becoming the client of a host for him?

truly an absurd notion.

currently, however, you weren't in the host club. you were just a girl with a bunch of germs crawling everywhere around her room, unable to go out and see the man of her dreams kiss her cheek and tell her to 'get well soon'.

speaking of, your mum grew increasingly concerned when she noticed the lack of communication between you and tamaki. you were always attached to his hip like some sort of koala, and the fact that you hadn't reached out to him to inform him of your illness personally so he could visit you made her worry.

but it was only natural that you'd suspect you were being an annoyance to tamaki once you began to notice his eyes shift from you to the newest host a couple of months prior. he'd been a petit brunet boy. a first year who was friendly and of lowly origin. you didn't think much of it.

at least not until the day hikaru asked if you could fetch something he forgot in the back room, completely ignorant to the fact that haruhi had come to the club early that day to ask for another uniform because she'd been accidentally thrown water at by two classmates of hers being stupid.

so when you opened the curtain and saw a small-sized girl with only her panties on desperately trying to hide herself from you, it didn't take more than a couple of seconds to put two and two together.

tamaki wasn't fascinated by the commoner errand 'boy' turnt host.

he wanted her.

you closed the curtain, giving the girl her privacy back and muttering an curt apology, "sorry." before deciding that hikaru would have to get his things himself.

neither haruhi nor you spoke about it again, and she never snitched to the host club about your discovery of her sex.

you liked to pretend it never happened, and that it never changed anything. but just like with tamaki, pretending doesn't go anywhere. the hints were there. his furiously blushed face when he stared at her, his protection of her when the twins teased her, his demands for kyouya to do things for haruhi because she'd like it, not even because she'd asked - well, the stage of denial didn't last long.

shortly after came anger. pure, unexplainable rage and envy. the fourth of the deadly sins was soon rushing through your veins like a drug you couldn't get clean from. 'why her?' you would ask in your rampages.

you couldn't figure it out, and you couldn't ask anyone either, because as infuriated as you were, hurting haruhi by revealing her identity wasn't on your to-do list.

not because you were a good person, god no.

rather, if tamaki knew you hurt his precious daughter - you barfed - like that, who knows if you'd see him again?

and so came the bargaining stage, with your rage never leaving your blood stream, of course. being petty was always one of your main personality traits, one that tamaki would often point out.

what did fujioka haruhi have that ln yn didn't?

'nothing.' you muttered to yourself.

nothing.

nothing?

could you be absolutely sure?

you didn't see her much outside of the club, and there were a couple of times you'd heard the hosts hung out together.

maybe they had a moment? or two, three?

perhaps it was high time you stopped bothering him. perhaps then he'd realise you were the one.

that's why your texts to him had much lessened, coming to a complete stop after roughly two months of your self-doubt and insecurities getting the best of you. so did your occasional visits to his house for studying. you'd even stopped wearing the perfume he got you as a birthday present last year, even though you couldn't find another scent that fit your tastes the same way.

despite your attempts at catching his attention, the bubbling fury in your chest rose once again when you realised that maybe tamaki didn't care about you at all.

he texted you as much as you texted him, he hung out with you only when you asked, and when he came closer to you and noticed the change in your scent, he went: "different perfume, princess?"

and while normally you'd be ecstatic at him noticing, your happiness was immediately destroyed when "the other one was a little old fashioned, good thing you moved to something more fresh."

why couldn't he say what he would have said had he been in an otome game, something among the lines of: 'did you wish to match mine?' or something cheesy like that? ...was your scent not to his tastes?

'did he forget his skills from hosting or what?' you whined.

consequently, now that you were sitting around doing nothing to reach out to tamaki or any of your 'friends', your mum couldn't help but take her phone in her hands to call her friend hitachiin yuzuha.

back in the pink room that is the host club, today's rendezvouses seemed to be going by awfully quickly for tamaki.

in the couple of minutes of break he had between the end of this rendezvous and next the one to come, he quickly found his phone from his back pocket and went over his schedule sent by kyouya.

your name had been crossed out and replaced with another one he recognised, another regular guest of his. he raised his eyebrow at that.

he lifted his head and looked for the shadow king.

"hey, kyouya?"

"hm?" kyouya didn't bother to look up from his laptop, furiously typing god-knows-what.

"why's yn's time gone?" he asked innocently in a curious voice that had you heard, you'd be swooning over.

"i told you, she cancelled due to personal business," his answer was straight-forward "although it's probably because she's ill."

ah, that makes sense, you were the one that cancelled.

wait, huh?

"what do you mean she's ill?" his eyebrows furrow a bit and he cocks his head to the side like a cute dog who doesn't understand anything its owner says.

"what do you mean, 'what do i mean'? she's been absent since monday because she's not feeling well, and she won't come today either. pretty simple." kyouya finally looked up at tamaki with a strange expression on his face. "has she not told you?"

tamaki shook his head a bit, "uhm.. no, not really." and tapped his phone again to check his messages on multiple social media apps to make sure he wasn't missing anything. his emails were empty too, only some spam from a newsletter page that he never bothered to cancel his subscription from.

"how do you know?" he questioned kyouya, but before he could answer, "no wait, don't answer that, you creep. of course you know." he sighed.

after some seconds of quiet thinking, "why didn't you tell me?" tamaki continued his questioning.

"everyone already knows, my lord." an awfully familiar voice butt in making the french boy turn his head around, resting his hand on his waist.

the voice belonged to kaoru, who had his arm wrapped around his twin's shoulders. seems like they also just finished with an appointment.

"what does that mean? who's 'everyone' and why am i not included?" tamaki crossed his arms, feeling kind of left out.

"that guy hayato or whatever who hangs out with yn and her friends was telling someone and we overheard." hikaru shrugged in unison with his doppelganger.

honey's soft voice entered the chat. "you mean hinata-kun? yn-chan's friend? yeah, he told me when i asked where yn-chan is because i thought she forgot to bring the candy she promised." he quickly grabbed a piece of cake from the fridge near where kyouya had been sitting and left the room swiftly.

huh, how convenient for him to enter for the plot.

"and why's it that you two evil bastards didn't bother to tell me?" tamaki exclaimed in disbelief, pointing a finger at the both of them. how could they? his precious childhood friend was sick at home and he didn't know?!

"sorry milord-" kaoru announced with his shoulders still raised, "-but you're always talking to yn-" hikaru joined, "-how were we supposed to know you're not asking her about her well-being?" they delivered the finishing blow together.

what were these lame jerks insinuating? 'not asking about her well-being'? what did they know? just as he went to respond with his usual barking, he stopped himself to instead text you on his own for the first time in a while. not that he noticed.

the twins looked at their king with a confused and weirded-out expression on both their faces, before glancing at each other and shrugging again, already disinterested. kyouya had long gone back to his work and so the twins walked to an empty sofa in an almost isolated area of the club, lying on top of one another to give a nice view to whichever client was into it.

about six minutes of pure silence passed between the two before kaoru's phone buzzed; a text from his mum.

the twins read the text simultaneously, with hikaru raising an eyebrow at its contents. they looked back at the slender boy texting you on his phone at the other end of the club, confused about his behaviour.

"seriously...?" hikaru quietly asked kaoru, referring to the text, only to be met with the other's puzzled expression.

as for the half-and-half boy, his fingers were anxiously tapping kyouya's table and awaiting your response to his message.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: Hey darling! Is everything alright? I heard you didn't come to school because you're sick. I thought you just didn't feel like coming. Why didn't you tell me?

he didn't know you let out a deep sigh at his text, even if it was three days late. it gave you hope - false hope. that he'd started to pay attention to you again. maybe being distant worked-

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: want me to come over?

the question felt natural to him, you always visited his home but seldom did he ever visit yours. since you were sick, it made sense that you wouldn't come over this time.

yn>.< : arent u busy rn tho lol

your name on his phone had obviously been put there by you, his choice of emoji had been party hat for some reason.

"be serious, what does that even mean, tamaki?" you'd asked him one day during a break from your studying in his room.

"you don't like it..?" he pouted like usual and you rolled your eyes.

"here. that's better." you handed him his phone back with a new 'yn >.<' as your contact name.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I can just come after club activities.

wait, he was actually coming? after two months of your only contact being through your rendezvous? it worked?! it actually worked?!

you thought of how to answer him.

at your lack of fast response, tamaki thought of ways to help you feel better through your illness.

'aha! eureka!' tamaki's head echoed.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I'll bring some commoner snacks we can enjoy too! Commoners have incredible food to help alleviate illness!

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: What are you even sick with, anyway?

of course.

commoner food, of course.

haruhi's food.

yn>.< : lol no its fine i dont want u to get sick. ill just c u at sxhool yn>.< : school* yn>.< : doc said its just a cold but yk w my asthma n shit

tamaki was thoroughly disappointed with your response, what did you mean 'you didn't want him to get sick'? you'd never cared if you caught his cold.

his heart raced with worry, and he decided he would stop by anyway. knowing his next appointment was approaching, he speed walked over to the newest host.

"haaaaruuhiiiiii!" he waved his hand to her and her two clients, smiling widely with all of them smiling back at him.

"yeah? what is it, senpai?" haruhi looked up at him from her armchair.

"sorry to intrude-" he runs his hair through his locks - an action that you told him the ladies would swoon over, "-but i was wondering, do you have any recommendations for commoner food that sick people can eat?"

"...are you serious?"

#ohshc #ohshc fanfic #ohshc x reader #fanfiction #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #tamaki x reader #tamaki suoh x reader #tamaki suoh #light angst #x reader #suoh tamaki

138 notes · View notes

iznsfw · 1 year

Note

Can we get more Hyewon fics?? 🥺🥺

Negotiation

IZ*ONE's Kang Hyewon x Male Reader Smut

4,491 words

Categories | daddy kink, power dynamics, titjob

It's your usual route, to be completely clear: circling up all the newbies, clearing out the incompetents and training those who had more than a pocketful of potential. It's your job, it's what you're paid to do. So if anyone dared question your bond with any of the trainees, they can complain about it to your face, and not in the form of scattered whisperings throughout office cubicles.

Your intentions are wholly pure. You swear on your mother's life. You'd pull the typical blame-it-on-the-femme-fatale thing with this girl, but you know it's somehow your fault, too: whatever might happen. She can't bear all the weight of the sin.

You don't think sin is supposed to look this good, though.

"Sir," she says, perfect curled lashes fluttering with no ill intent at all. She's innocence, pureness, angelicness—all compiled and composed into one beautiful young girl. "Good afternoon. My name is Kang Hyewon; I'm more than eager to do my best for you."

In what way? you're tempted to ask. But then those exact words tumble from your mouth, and you're pretty sure you've fucked it all up. You, in your holier-than-thou suit and tie, asking something so suggestive to an innocent girl like her? Outrageous, that's what it is; scandalous, too. You could get fired for it.

However, it's as if she expected it—she leans forward, offering you a show of plentiful cleavage that breaks several dress code regulations and ethical rules, with a soft, rare smile.

"However you want me, sir," she says sweetly. Resting her chin on her hand, the smile on her full lips grows wider. "I'll do anything."

"I've heard something like that before, Miss Kang," you say. "Strangely, I've heard it from the same person, too."

"Oh?" Hyewon assumes an innocent naïvety, wide doe eyes almost convincing you of a clean record. "How so?"

See, she's kind of used to that subtly flirty banter. Somewhere in the city of Seoul, in a humble little apartment, she's learning to make money in other ways. By doing it, she needs not travel lengths of distance to a corporate building or spend day after day spell-checking papers. You, having checked backgrounds of probably a billion people and verifying their digital footprint as decent or in-, know all about it. Might have watched a few of it online. Might have done some stuff too.

"You might've fooled Nana and the others, kiddo, but you haven't fooled me," you inform her, offended that you actually have to tell her. You're lowering yourself down to keep up with her one-step-ahead talk. She may be playing dumb, but she knows what she's doing. "I know all about your secret streaming account. Thing is, it probably isn't a secret. You've got thousands of followers on it."

"Can't a girl have a little fun, sir?" asks Hyewon with a giggle. "I was just playing games to pass time."

"'HyemsterKang' ring a bell?"

Hyewon looks up at the ceiling, as if she could find an appropriate answer for your inquiry embedded there. There's none: only a switched-on lamp and a vent.

"Hmm," she hums, curled hands supporting her pretty face, "probably. What kind of account is it?"

"There's Twitch, YouTube, you name it. Twitch has the most followers, with over two hundred thousand. It's a surprise no one recognized you when you walked through the front door."

"Why would anyone recognize me? I'm just looking to enhance my skills here."

You're tired already. "Cut the bullshit, Hyewon," you say. Drop all the formalities and workplace language just like that. "You know what kind of videos you make. And, look, you've got to understand that I've got nothing against them, but anoth—"

Hyewon pouts. "Why are you so hot and bothered then, sir?"

"Because you can't pretend to be some pure, holy girl here. I would've gotten you on the training course if you didn't lie through your teeth. What we need is honesty, transparency. You can't lie on the job here."

Hyewon seems to consider this. Her eyes lose their glimmer as they look down to your desk. And she looks so… sad: her eyes are, as mentioned, downcast, and there's so much more to them than sadness because they hold so many raw emotions of disappointment that make even your heart hurt. Her saddened shoulders lose their sturdy posture.

For the first time since she's entered your office, Kang Hyewon looks… defeated.

"Does that mean you're not taking me in, sir?" she says after looking up at you again.

"No, and please," stress this with gritted teeth, "don't call me sir."

You've no idea why you feel that way. Many other girls have called you sir, both in a formal and informal setting. There was Kim Minju, whose experience gathered little to no potential, and Yabuki Nako, whose aspiring dream to become your corporate's airline stewardess was a pipe dream due to her petite height.

But it feels strange with Hyewon. It's like there's some hidden motive behind it. Whatever it may be, it's surely working.

Hyewon juts out one, plump lip as she rises from her seat. Instantly, your boundary alarms go off. They're blaring like ambulances now, running in purposeless trips around your mind. Interviewees are not supposed to do that. She's crossing the line, so many lines.

What sets more alarms off is her taking a seat in your lap, as if she's always done that before. As if she belongs there.

Her slim, tiny body presses up snugly against your frozen one. "What would you rather be called, hm?" she asks. Like a good girl, her hands are folded neatly on her lap, (un)fortunately covered by a gray skirt. "Please, do tell."

"Hyewon…"

You try to give her a steady look, try to tell her that it's wrong. But your hands are on her waist, and they subconsciously pull her closer. Damn her and that sexy skirt and blazer.

"Mm, your hands feel so good on me," she sighs happily. "It turns me on so much. It makes me feel warm here," she pats the space between her thighs, "and it's all your fault, sir. All your fault."

"You need to be taught a lesson, Kang Hyewon."

"Go on then, daddy." Hyewon's voice drops to a haunting whisper. "I deserve it."

There, you let go of all your morals. The fact that Hyewon's supposed to be your interviewee and you're supposed to play professional with her becomes nonexistent. You've seen what she does on those videos, and now you're eager to see the body she hides so chastely under those uniform clothes.

"Bend over."

The obedient Hyewon gets off your lap and lowers herself on the table. Her skirt rises and shows you a lack of even undershorts to save the exposed thong. Her ass cheeks sandwich the thin little thong perfectly.

"Ooh, what's daddy going to do?" she asks eagerly. She wiggles her round butt into your sprawled hand. "Is he going to spank me and make his babygirl count it all?"

"That would be too easy, don't you think?" Groping her, you look hard into her sparkling eyes full of excitement. "Daddy's going to spank you, but you can't make a single sound."

Hyewon whines. "But that's so hard, daddy. Can't you make it easier for Hyem?"

"So am I, and no. If I hear you moan, you're not allowed to cum."

Merciless is the perfect word to describe you right now. But your mind just rambles with lustful things to do to this sexy little vixen—(a hamster, if you will, as an ode to her username HyemsterKang, but that sounds less sexy; it doesn't give justice to the seductress that is Kang Hyewon)—and you're eager to perform them ruthlessly.

Trail your fingers on her wet pussy lips. You find her clit, and from there, you give it tiny, teasing brushes. Hyewon bites her lip hard, and clings to the table for support. And for a moment that's all there is to it: you rubbing her clit and her grinding her round ass to your fingers. Until:

"Ahh, daddy!"

That's one orgasm subtracted from the list. After you slap Hyewon's cheeks with all the might you have, she instantly cries out. You feel her juices dripping on your hand.

Hyewon looks back at you. And you realize why her streaming career has done so well—that face is made to be ruined. Her scared eyes portray an opposing desire for more, and you can't help but give and give exactly that.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" she whimpers. "I'm sorry!"

Nevertheless, you continue to spank her. Reddened skin blares almost as bright as the office lamp. Her thighs drip with her nectar.

You're harsh; your hand's starting to hurt from yout endless slaps on Hyewon's butt. But the pain seems like a small, sideway thought when you're witness to her cheeks bouncing with each blow. When she's holding onto the table like she wants you to go on.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," sobs Hyewon. "Please just spank me like that, treat me like a whore, use me—"

Your spanks become less and less measured—one follows the other a little too briskly. If the door weren't locked and the glass made it so any outsider couldn't hear, people would assume you're already fucking her with your brains out. But no, that's just you spanking Hyewon to teach her a lesson, to teach her to be a good girl.

"Fuck, slap my pussy like that!" she yells. Her pants sound hot and eager. "I'm going to cum, oh yes, oh fuck!"

That's your cue to stop. Hyewon doesn't deserve to orgasm yet, not until she's learned her lesson.

"This is so unfair, no," whispers Hyewon disappointedly, turning around with a pout.

"Newsflash, Hyewon: the world isn't fair. Nothing is."

Slip a finger inside her and her knee-high-clad legs curl around your hand protectively. She's riding on any good thing; she wants nothing more than your cock, and besides that, probably a job, but anything works for now.

Hyewon works herself down on your fingers. "When will I get to cum, daddy?" she asks. "Daddy? Say 'now,' please."

Execute blunt thrusts into her slick pussy, which is an impossibly tight cavern not even the bravest can make it out alive without exploding. Her back curves and she twists at the pleasure. Her delectable little cunt is sweet and closed around you, a newfound temptation to latch on for life, a vice to remember.

But there's also her fantastic chest to look at, doing what you're doing: peeking through the neckline of her blouse, which you just so happen to do as well.

"If you give me a feel of those tits," you propose, the way negotiations should go, "maybe I'll let you."

"Of– of course, daddy."

Hyewon undoes the buttons of her blouse. Like curtains, they part to a wonderful show. This show, though, would have been banned for nudity and corruption (and not in the usual way.)

Hyewon's tits are glorious—they size up to more than a handful, and have these tiny pink nipples that you'd love to squeeze any time of the day. You're hypnotized by them, in every way possible. You glance at how they rise and fall in coordination with Hyewon's breaths, and the way her nipples perk into the air hard and aroused once the black lacy bra is off. The air-conditioner wind might have had something to do with their state, but you're thankful for both, either-which-way.

"C-careful," begs the young girl, wincing. "They're sensitive…"

"Is that so? Would it feel good then if I did this?"

"Oh, ohhhh!" Hyewon gasps with a hand over her mouth. Her skin feels boiling hot, but in a strangely good way, when you begin to suck directly on her nipples. "Yes, just like that!"

Her breasts are softer and better than the stress balls your office gave away during mental health seminars. The balls are only good for squeezing and throwing. In Hyewon's case, you can completely release all your stress just by fingerfucking her tiny pussy, and sucking her tits all at the same time. With her, you forget more than your morals—you forget about work, your deadlines, your responsibilities. And, needless to say, it's all her fault.

Hyewon can't keep up with the doubled pleasure. She's constantly squirming to have your fingers deeper in her cunt, and she keeps pushing her breasts into your face. Your rhythm of thrusts in her hole doesn't wither, and neither does your sucking on her right nipple. She doesn't know what to do except squeal out replayed pleads.

"Daddy," she says. "Please keep doing that, it feels so good. I'll be a good girl, I promise I won't lie anymore."

You ride your teeth around Hyewon's areola, sucking the area around it also. If you could, you'd never let go of her breasts. You would keep sucking on them, alternating between one and the other, for days on end. You bet you'd survive even without food or water. Hyewon's tits are enough for you to live eternally. Hell is nonexistent when you're with her.

"Do you think you deserve to cum, Hyewon?" you ask. You play with her clit, making it harder for her to get her words out.

"I think so, d-daddy. Yes."

"I don't," you laugh. "I told you not to make a sound, and you disobeyed. How would you become a competent worker if you're like that?"

Hyewon's near tears. "I'll do whatever you want," she says. Breaths get lost here and there due to your fingers still swiftly exiting and entering her. "Please. I need you. I'll, I'll be your good little fuckdoll, I promise, I swear."

"Will you let me fuck your tits, then, Hyem? If you're that good and eager?"

"Yes, daddy!"

Hyewon nods over and over. A bit too excited, she pushes you down to the office chair rather roughly. But you pay no mind; in fact, your erection grows harder and lengthier at her enthusiasm. It throbs violently with how Hyewon slips off her blazer and pulls down your pants.

Her eyes brighten at the sight of your member, as if it's something that can actually make her day better.

"You're very hard, daddy." She bites her lip, looking up at you with incredulous adoration. "Let me do something about it."

Hyewon's huge tits hug your hard-on, sandwiching it between them. You groan as she holds her chest so that your cock slips in and out seamlessly, lubed up only by her spit and your precum. Her soft flesh brushes your sensitive, pink penis perfectly, giving it a feel of what heaven might actually be.

"Holy shit, Hyewon," you sigh.

It's like she's entertained by what she's doing, too. She's looking down at your cock entering her flesh as if it were an exciting movie. But she takes extra care to seal longer glances with you, knowing that her face alone can make you cum.

"Oh, daddy likes my tits, huh?" Hyewon says coyly. Playing with her nipples while titfucking you, her gaze grows more and more sultry. "Daddy's gonna let me cum after this, right? Make me learn my lesson?"

"Just… just keep moving your tits like that. And we'll see what happens."

Not a solid promise, but Hyewon is satisfied with that. She knows her power and how to use it well enough. She's practiced in the strokes and squeezes she does on your cock, the temptation calling for you in her brown eyes, everything. She has it all measured and listed down somewhere, probably, just waiting for the right time to use it.

Hyewon lifts her breasts, then slams them down on your lap again. The cycle repeats, and her boobs become like that of a real fleshlight. But hers is better—a toy pales in comparison when paired up with Hyewon's tight, hot body. And all it took to have her was a spanking session. There was no need to shed thousands of won.

"Like this?" she asks. Hyewon's letting you use her for your own pleasure, caring for your bliss rather than hers. The grip of her bosom around you tightens, and you find it difficult to catch your breath. "Do you want me to keep doing this?"

"Fuck yes. You're such a good girl for me right now, Hyewon."

Her cheeks are rosy. "Thank you. I'll make you cum, I promise."

She's made probably a hundred of oaths from the moment she walked into this building, but this one seems to be the one she's most determined to carry out. Hyewon's fiery rhythm risks you of exploding all over her pretty chest. Her smooth, pillow-soft skin knots your stomach and sets everything ablaze. Her facial expressions, which are a far cry from the saintliness she pretended to possess earlier, drive you off the edge.

"Shit… shit, I'm going to cum," you announce in a broken voice.

You can't stave your orgasm off anymore. Your dick expels liquid white strings everywhere. Hyewon's collarbone and big breasts bear most of the desirable damage, but she's sure to open her mouth, too. And she looks every bit the part of a cock-hungry slut, with her eyes rolled back and tongue lewdly hanging from her thick pink lips. White semen becomes her new lip gloss, and she'd put it on any time of the day.

"You still have more in you, daddy," says Hyewon. She strokes herself around your cock without pause. Curses leave your mouth as her evil gaze challenges you to say the opposite. "I can feel it. I want you to explode all over me."

"Fuck, yes, Hyem. I fucking will."

There isn't a single bad movie out there that matches the rapid pacing of Hyewon's titjob, and it's probably for the better. You just keep on cumming, and Hyewon keeps on titfucking you. It's a win-win situation because she enjoys being sprayed with your cum. It makes her feel like the used little doll she is.

She forces you to spurt more up until you can't anymore. All there's left are little droplets of pure white, and ragged moans from both ends.

Hyewon's blouse and chest are stained all over. But when she gazes at the mess you made on them, she doesn't look upset. She looks rather… turned on. Her squirming thighs and bitten lower lip indicate that. She may look like a porcelain doll with her angelic face and pale skin, but she's been used just like a ragdoll would.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asks. "You liked it, didn't you?"

"I did," you confess. "How wet are you after all that, Hyewon?"

Hyewon reaches under her skirt and brushes her fingers over her pussy. She gasps. "Oh, v-very wet, daddy. Won't you do something about it?"

"Yes, I will. Get ready."

Both you and Hyewon rise to your feet. You step out of the rest of your pants while she shrugs off her blouse. Now, she's only wearing her black schoolgirl skirt and her long socks with shoes.

Hyewon hops on the edge of your desk. "Will you really fuck me this time?" she asks hopefully.

"A deal's a deal, Kang Hyewon. Now spread your legs."

She opens them. You lift the skirt up to get a view of her pretty hole. Her pussy lips are plump, just like the painted lips on her face.

(You want to fuck both.)

So, you thrust.

All at once Hyewon is filled up to the brim, your balls pressing against her ass.

"Oh, oh, so deep!" gasps Hyewon. "You're so big inside me!"

Your cock throbs. The clench of her walls is amazing, but they're also tempting you to cum again, and you can't have that. So, you set slow but forceful strokes, driving yourself inside Hyewon and feeling her walls part. Her surprised moans guide blood to your erection. The expression she wears never goes far from orgasmic, and she might as well be already cumming with how tight her hole's clamping on you.

Wrap your hands around her tiny waist. You're ready now. You start to drill her tiny body down your desk. She cries out and leans her head backwards, allowing you to see how much of her neck you've covered in cum. Her glazed breasts bounce before you, getting your cock in an increased solid state to pulse and thrust in her hard and good.

"Yes, daddy, fuck me!" she prods you on, just like how your cock is prodding at her insides. "It's so good, daddy, it's so good, it's so good—"

She's promised to make you cum and delivered it out. Now, she wants you to make one, too, and return the favor. And, even if the only thing you're offered in exchange are Hyewon's loud screams that sound in your ears and her half-naked figure that's straight out of a porn video, you're glad to do so.

"Guess you aren't so innocent after all," you laugh. You're trying to keep custody of the upper hand here, but, god, does Hyewon's cunt choking your cock make it nearly impossible. "All that pretense, Hyewon, don't you get tired?"

"Oh, daddy," Hyewon sobs softly, arms hung around your neck and shoulders. Her eyelids are heavy, too wrung by pleasure. "If it gets you to fuck me, I don't mind at all."

You find her erogenous zone and rub it in the same, fire-quick way you thrust. "A little too fast there, don't you think?" you chuckle, but you're flattered.

"All I want is you going fast inside me." Hyewon's legs tense up after you grab them for easier leverage. Her moans are cut short with stutters. "I want it now."

"And what exactly do you want, Hyewon?"

"I—" She blushes furiously. Her words rarely come out in any form other than squeals. "I want to be your little office cockwarmer. I want to do nothing but be the toy who sucks daddy's dick and keeps his cock hard. I don't want to be anything else, daddy, and you know it—you know I want it—"

"Oh, you will." Pumping into her harder, you set the stone there and then of your ownership of her. "You're mine now. Everyone's gonna know about how you get on your knees for me so easily, Kang Hyewon. You'll be known as my little office slut, the one who keeps my stress relieved."

"Yes, yes, you can fill me up all the time, you can make me wear the slutty secretary outfits from my streams, daddy! Use me, oh god, I'm yours!"

It's a tempting offer. You've seen her streams while looking through her background, and you saw that one of her in the tight little secretary uniform. You think of how pretty she'd look in it, and how heads would turn at her entering your office everytime in it. You picture the outrage that does nothing since you're at such a high position in the office hierarchy, such an important person. They can't do anything if you decide at once that Hyewon's going to be your cumslut. They can only create rumors painting you out to be the exploitative bad guy, and Hyewon starring in the role of the poor head-over-heels newbie desperate for a good life.

You can live with that.

The inches of your length never get to breathe as you're constantly shoving them inside her, knocking against her cervix and making her sob for more. There's no limit to the pumps you can give to Hyewon, but you still test it out. Hyewon remains at your mercy.

"Are you going to be my slut now? Do you really want that?" you ask her. "Or are you going to back out because you're too much of a pussy to dive in?c

Grab her chin and force her gaze at you. That's how you see that Hyewon's completely serious. That's exactly what she wants. She didn't come here for a job, she came here for you, and she's not leaving without being yours.

Hyewon nods. She presses her forehead against yours. "I want you," she whispers. "So make me yours. You know you want to teach your whore of a babygirl a lesson. You know you want to fill her cunt everyday."

That's right, you do. You knew, since the minute she spent teasing and toying with you, that you want to fuck her brains out. And here you are, doing exactly that.

This could be forever if you wanted.

"Gonna cum now, Hyewon. Gonna fill your cunt up with daddy's semen. Gonna fucking breed you."

"I'm close, too, daddy. Give me your cum."

You make sure to press completely against her cervix when you cum inside her. Hyewon's girl cum and your white fluids mix together, a blend of sex and sin, and drip down your table. You can't really think of anything else except for Hyewon's screams climbing up in volume and her squirt spurting all over your best uniform. No, you're brain-dead with lust, and there's no turning back.

You make her your cum deposit. You make her your babygirl, and as corny as it sounds, straight out of a bad teen romance where everything goes too quickly for any talent to be actually seen, you're okay with that.

"And that's how I think that we should promote the book earlier this year. Thank you for listening."

The clan of higher-ups sitting at the oval-shaped table clap politely. You try to keep your clapping at the appropriate level of enthusiasm, but your heart bursts with pride for Hyewon. She's come so far without your help. She's learning to stand on her own.

"I think that's a great idea, miss Kang," says Miyawaki Sakura, your director. She's a petite woman with a soft voice, but everyone knows that she's the boss of any room she stands in. "I'll jumpstart the idea tomorrow with the board of directors."

Hyewon flushes with happiness. "Thank you, miss Miyawaki."

"I do have one concern with miss Kang about the presentation, though," you pipe up. "Miss Miyawaki, do I have your permission to speak about with Hyewon in private?"

Now everybody's looking at each other. They try to keep themselves decent, but they all know what you mean. By now, your sexual relationship with Hyewon is an open secret. It might not be eligible for the title of secrecy anymore since all of the office knows it.

But what can they do? You're the best in your team. You run too many things that keep the company going and they can't risk your loss.

Hyewon waits for the director's response with bated breath. Her hands fiddle with each other as she waits for a response.

"Of course, sir," replies Sakura finally. "You may go."

You and Hyewon exchange glances. The two of you know exactly what your "talk" would be about.

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rifualk · 9 days

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On Mental Health and Cosmic Embarrassment

I don't usually make a post in the aftermath of one of my spirals, so I bet most people see some of the vent posts I make, and assume I am just off my meds or something. I am on them but I might not be on the right ones. This is a thing that happens to me sometimes. I have psychotic episodes, where it feels like the things I am saying are completely inconsequential and I genuinely believe no one cares what I'm saying or, worst of all, that it cannot scare anyone that cares about me. I get too tired to fight my intrusive thoughts and I just ride them out. Most of my thoughts are not ones I enjoy having. I have trouble parsing what is real sometimes. For most of my life, out of a kind of primal shame and terror of being perceived or judged, I beat myself into believing that I just roleplayed as a crazy person online because I wanted attention for it, but it finally clicked for me at some point in my 20s that I was, and am, genuinely very mentally ill, maybe in ways that make me not-entirely-functional in the culture I inhabit. Also, I want attention for it.

Life is very embarrassing. I think embarrassment, shame, et al. is probably the most cosmic feeling of them all, because being embarrassed, for me anyway, leads invariably to my OCD extrapolating the embarrassment, no matter how slight, into its natural extreme, becoming a full-blown existential meltdown and often manifesting in some self-punishment. Or a lot of self-punishment. Instead of saying "everyone wants attention, it's not a big deal", my brain will overwhelm me with shame and make me vow to be quieter about the whole thing next time. Good emotions are meant to be expressed, I tell myself, and Bad ones are not. I think it's very unhealthy for people to not express their negative emotions openly. Or maybe I'm psychotic. I mean, I am psychotic. But maybe right now, too.

Ultimately this feeling peaks with the realization - again - that I'm a eukaryote. I live on a spinning ball of stardust in the aftermath of what had to have been a colossal disaster and waste of time. But it happened, and so now there's a bunch of stuff floating around, and some of that stuff started moving for reasons I don't personally understand and the implications of which scare me. And the moving stuff that moved faster got to stay moving longer. And so a chain reaction escalated, and eventually there were very large moving things whose survival adaptations had evolved in such a way that they could conceptualize and communicate complex information about the world around them, but they were also able to conceptualize themselves. This gave them a lot of grief. They wanted very badly for there to be an answer to why they were able to do that. Surely it served some purpose. But we never found one, and here we are.

I don't have a god to turn to. I have tried - earnestly, sincerely, and desperately - to reach out; I never hear back. I don't want to be an atheist, it's heartbreaking. Honestly. I want someone to be up there, or out there. Knowing there isn't, is just... cruel. It's horrifying and it wrenches my heart. Look at us, look how much we're suffering, where the fuck did you go, what the fuck is your problem? Help us!

In spite of everything, I am still not sure what I believe.

Don't you ever just cry about the world? Like, broadly? Don't you ever just have to take off your glasses and wipe the brine from them because you caught a glimpse of what people, as a species, could be capable of? And I get angry at myself, too. What am I doing about it? What even can I do? I can barely hold down a job. I am barely an adult. I am often mired in this feeling. It permeates everything. I'm living in a tragedy - not just my own, but millions and millions of others'. This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare and I'm an embarrassment, and my brain doesn't work right, and I'm living in a terrible reality that is shared by everyone, and yet somehow equally isolating and alienating to all of us. Does it have to be that way? Aren't we all lonely?

When I am spiraling I really do think that the end is near, either for me, or for everyone, or for both. To be fair, my confidence about humanity's future is not promising even when I am at my most sane. But in this kind of emotional place, the stakes are too high for me to care that what I say might come off as upsetting. It is completely overwhelming. I see my life up to this point, and I see how long I've been alive and realize I'm very Not Normal and I look and sound different than everyone around me and I'm an embarrassment. It's embarrassing to exist. It's embarrassing to be transgender, too. It's really, really embarrassing to be mentally ill and fully aware of it all the time. It's shameful. I am ashamed of how my family likely sees me. How my peers see me. I'm just a walking disaster. I feel like this bars me from leading a happy life or finding some success in art - It doesn't seem like you're allowed to be quite this much of a problem and "get away with it", does it? There's a bit of social sanitizing at work there - you are only allowed to be a certain level of messed up and if you pass that you're sort of a pariah. I don't think I've ever done anything pariah-worthy, but I can only see things from the inside of my own head, and there's a lot of unwanted noise in here.

I painted this when I lived in Oregon. I don't know how. I could not do art like this again if asked.

I'm not in a good place, generally-speaking. It could be worse - and it was for a long time- but it's still just not great. There are two reasons for this. One is that I'm very homesick. The other is that I found - and subsequently lost - my twin. But I only want to talk about the first reason right now - I grew attached to the Pacific Northwest in a way I've never really grown attached to any other place. It had a quality that exists nowhere else. It resonated with me immediately and I knew right away from the moment I first set foot there that it was my home. I grew to be a part of it, and it's the only place I felt I somewhat-belonged... I have been away from Oregon for 2 whole years as of next month. I feel like I'm a fish out of water, or a sapling in the wrong soil. I can't and won't say that the place I live currently is a bad place, but it isn't my place, and the disconnect has been maybe the nastiest shock to my system in all my life. Finding the place I loved, and living for over 12 years there, only to be wrenched away from it so suddenly, left a shock on me that I think has yet to surface in my work. I'm excited to see what form it takes when it does. Location is very important to my mental wellbeing, more than I think it is for most people. Maybe I am a plant. It's also very important for my art. I've struggled to find inspiration since I moved here. That said, I've had the very precious opportunity to just work on myself - on my transition, as well as my personal issues. I think I'm getting better, gradually, in some way. I have a job now, at least. So it's not entirely bad. I even grew sunflowers last summer.

Around this time I got banned from twitter, but I don't feel any shame about the reason why because I believe in my message. But it forced me to be a lot less active online for a long time. It also made me lose a lot of support. That's been something I've grappled with a lot these last 2 years - that people really don't like people like me, for reasons that are mostly not our fault. I will likely always be something of an outsider for being who I am now, but I was one before anyway. It's still worth it. I like the person I'm becoming. I feel like only recently did I allow myself to feel this self-love. I was too embarrassed of myself. It took a lot of patience and a lot of de-tangling my self-worth from a lot of trauma. So it's likely I would have needed to go through all of this regardless of where I was.

I still slip up. It's an uphill climb and it's slippery. I like to be transparent about these things. It's a relief - feeling like I need to hide things is my default state and it's lovely to just let go of stuff so I don't need to keep it in my head all the time. I have a lot of hangups still. I get discouraged about my art still - I fear I'll never build myself back up to where I was before, and that there will never be a time when I can really pay the bills with it. Or worse-still, that it just isn't special enough to last. That it isn't remarkable enough to survive after I'm gone. But I think a lot of people who make stuff feel that way, and it's not our fault. There's some relief in that. I'm happy to have even a few people that care about me and my work, and something I've been trying really hard to remember in recent years is to take time to appreciate them. I'm not actually alone. I have a lot of people that love me. I'm not an outsider. I'm very lucky to know the people I do, and I hold a deep regret for all the connections I've let go of because I was just too sick. Deep down I really do wish I could love everyone. I have no ill will towards anyone, not really.

I still don't know what I'm doing. I am just doing my best, I think. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to get any older. I'm scared of the passage of time. My memory is so bad, it feels like time is taken from me without me realizing. I am 33 years old. I do not have 33 years worth of memories. There are huge leaps. Gaps where suddenly I was just older and in more pain. Being adrift in time like this is horrific - one day I will blink, and the present moment may be completely forgotten. It can't go this fast. It just can't. Something has to be wrong. I don't want to die, I don't want to miss out on so much life or be unable to remember it. I don't want to find myself on my deathbed someday way sooner than I think and be unable to string together any kind of coherent thread from my memories. What is it all for? It has to mean something right? Why am I doing anything?

I think I finally understand that love is why. I don't know much more than that. Love is real, and it's the answer. If you find love, don't take it for granted, ever. No love is perfect. Take it with all its flaws. You don't have time to bargain with it. Love like you'll never love again, love like it's your last day alive, love like it will keep you alive forever, because it will. Every year closer to death you get, you will feel the regret of all the times you did not follow your heart. Life is short. I'm finding this out entirely too late. It goes by so fast, and what you have at the end are people and memories of being loved. To be loved is to live forever. It's the thing that connects us to everything else. It's the source and the answer to everything. It makes more sense the older I get. It used to sound cheesy, but I believe it with more sincerity every day.

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I kept my last promise to you - there are no new scars on my arms, or bruises on my head or face.

#mental health posting #is there a better tag for that

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