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muiitoloko · 2 days

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hello, do you plan to write a part 2 for the Colonel Brandon ? The reader could tell him more about her past treatment as she grew to trust him enough to do so. And Brandon being Brandon, I guess we will have a lot of fluff.

Title: Whispers of Doubt

Summary: Doubts still gnaw at you.

Pairing: Colonel Brandon × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, doubts, fear, inferiority complex.

Author's Notes: You asked, I delivered—well, sort of! Here it is, not exactly what you ordered, but hey, it’s the sequel you didn't know you needed! Enjoy the ride!

First and Second part here.

The days since you and Brandon had declared your love for each other passed calmly, yet there was an undercurrent of intensity. With your newfound openness, your life together had taken on a rhythm both passionate and serene. You now spent most of your time in the main house, a change that brought you closer to Brandon in every sense. Remarkably, the peace seemed to help stave off your episodes, at least for now, and the household settled into a new normal.

However, beneath the veneer of daily life, a fervor burned brightly. The pretense of trying to conceive children masked the true nature of your physical relationship, a relationship that thrived on unspoken desires and mutual need. It became clear that both of you were reveling in the intensity of your newfound intimacy.

Brandon, once the epitome of the disciplined, reserved colonel, had shed his gentlemanly constraints in the privacy of your shared moments. In the throes of passion, he transformed, his demeanor wild and untamed, driven by a raw, primal need that matched your own. The stately mansion became the backdrop to your fervent lovemaking, each room holding the memory of your shared abandon.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, engrossed in a book about childbirth and early child-rearing. You were seated at a large oak table, the room's vast collection of books providing a comforting backdrop. Brandon entered quietly, his presence filling the room with an electric charge. He moved behind you, reading over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

"Thinking about our future children?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, unable to speak as his hands found your shoulders, kneading gently. His touch was a soothing balm and a promise of what was to come. One thing led to another, as it often did these days, and soon the book was forgotten, the table's solid surface supporting you as Brandon's need overpowered any pretense of restraint.

He positioned you with firm but gentle hands, bending you over the table as he stood behind you. You gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow gasps as his fingers traced a heated path down your back. His touch was both a caress and a claim, each stroke igniting a fire within you.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Before you could respond, he entered you with a swift, powerful thrust that left you gasping. The transformation was instant; the disciplined Colonel Brandon was gone, replaced by a man driven by an all-consuming need. His movements were relentless, each thrust deep and demanding, as he held your hips firmly.

The library, a sanctuary of knowledge and calm, was now filled with the sounds of your passion. The table creaked beneath the intensity of your coupling, the bookshelves standing as silent witnesses to the raw, primal connection between you. Brandon's hands roamed your body, gripping, caressing, his lips finding the sensitive spot at the nape of your neck.

"Christopher," you managed to gasp, his name a plea and a prayer.

He responded with a growl, his pace quickening, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The disciplined veneer of the colonel had given way to the fervent lover, his need for you overriding all else. You pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your shared desire a blazing inferno that consumed you both.

When the climax came, it was a shattering release, your cries mingling with his as you both surrendered to the wave of pleasure that washed over you. The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, clinging to each other as the world righted itself around you.

Brandon held you close, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "I love you, [Your Name]. Never doubt that."

You turned in his arms, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of love and awe. "And I love you, Christopher," you replied, your voice filled with a conviction that matched his own.

In the aftermath, you both stood there, entwined, the library once again a place of quiet reflection. But now, it also held the memory of your love, a testament to the bond that had grown between you, stronger and more unbreakable with each passing day.

Brandon stuffed himself back into his pants and helped you get dressed too, his hands gentle yet firm as he fastened the ties of your pants. His touch, though tender, seemed accompanied by an unspoken hesitation. By this time, you knew him well enough to read the subtle tension in his posture and the way his eyes avoided yours.

“What is it, Christopher?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. “You seem troubled.”

Brandon sighed, taking a step back as he ran a hand through his hair. “I received a letter this morning,” he began, his tone hesitant. “An old friend of mine from the army is hosting a dance. We've been invited to attend.”

You felt a pang of anxiety at his words. Social events had become a source of fear for you, the thought of being in public, exposed to prying eyes and gossiping tongues, filled you with dread. You had made very few public appearances since your episodes had become known, and the rumors of your condition, though never confirmed, had been enough to keep you isolated.

Brandon continued, his gaze searching yours for understanding. “I know how you feel about being in public,” he said gently. “And I would never force you to go. But I haven't seen my friend in quite some time, and... I miss the camaraderie we shared.”

The apprehension in your chest tightened. You didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to hold Brandon back from something that clearly meant a lot to him. Yet, the fear of what might happen, of how you might be perceived, loomed large.

“I understand if you don't want to go,” Brandon added quickly, sensing your hesitation. “I won't attend if you're uncomfortable with it. Your peace of mind means more to me than any social engagement.”

His words only deepened your conflict. You wanted to protect him from the potential scandal of your condition becoming widely known, but you also didn't want to be the cause of his isolation. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your thoughts.

“Christopher,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “I’m terrified of people seeing me… having an episode. I’ve worked so hard to keep my family's reputation intact, and now yours as well. The thought of public scrutiny frightens me to no end.”

Brandon stepped closer, taking your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I understand your fears,” he said softly. “But you are not alone in this. We can face it together, just as we've faced everything else. I will be by your side every moment. And if, at any point, you feel overwhelmed, we can leave.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the earnest sincerity there. His presence, his unwavering support, was a balm to your frayed nerves. “I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on seeing your friend,” you admitted. “I can see how much it means to you.”

Brandon's gaze softened, and he lifted your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers. “Your comfort and well-being mean more to me than any dance or reunion. But if you’re willing, even if it’s just for a short while, it would mean the world to me to have you by my side.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. “Alright,” you said, your voice gaining strength. “I’ll go. For you.”

A smile spread across Brandon’s face, and he pulled you into a warm embrace. “Thank you, [Your Name],” he murmured. “We’ll take it one step at a time, and if at any moment you want to leave, we will.”

As you held onto him, you felt a mix of fear and resolve. The journey ahead would be daunting, but with Brandon by your side, you felt a flicker of hope. Together, you would face whatever came your way, united by love and the promise of brighter days ahead.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the room as you stood before the mirror, a pile of dresses spread out on the bed. It had been a long time since you had prepared for a dance, and the thought of it filled you with both excitement and apprehension. Most days, you preferred the comfort of boyish clothes, which allowed you to move freely and escape the constrictions of societal expectations. But tonight was different. Tonight, you wanted to feel beautiful for Brandon, to be worthy of standing by his side in public, to rekindle the grace you once took pride in.

You slipped into one of the dresses, a deep blue gown with delicate lace at the sleeves and neckline. It was a beautiful dress, but as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't quite right. You tried another, a soft lavender gown with intricate embroidery, and then another, a simple yet elegant cream-colored dress. Each time, you arranged your hair in different styles, pinning it up with hairpins or letting it cascade down your back in soft waves.

But nothing seemed good enough. With a sigh, you sank onto the edge of the bed, frustration gnawing at you. You felt a mix of self-doubt and determination, the desire to be beautiful for your colonel clashing with the insecurities that had haunted you for so long.

Looking out the window, you saw Brandon working with the workers in the field. His shirt was stuck to his body with sweat, highlighting the strength and dedication that defined him. The sight of him, so strong and sure, brought a small smile to your lips. You admired him deeply, not just for his physical strength, but for his unwavering kindness and the love he had shown you.

Determined not to let your insecurities get the better of you, you stood up and returned to the mirror. You chose the cream-colored dress, its simplicity appealing to you in a way the others hadn't. As you adjusted the fit and smoothed the fabric, you thought about the hairstyle that would complement it best. After a moment of contemplation, you decided on a loose, elegant updo with a few tendrils framing your face. It was a style that felt both refined and comfortable, and you hoped it would make you feel as beautiful as Brandon saw you.

Tying your hair in place, you decided that this was it; this was how you would do it. This decision brought a sense of calm, a rare moment of certainty in the midst of your doubts. You then took off the dress, carefully folding it and putting it away, changing back into your men's clothes—garments that allowed you the freedom you so cherished.

Once dressed, you made your way outside to where Brandon was working with the workers in the field. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the scene, making the sweat glisten on his brow. As you approached, he looked up and smiled, the sight of you in your usual attire bringing a twinkle to his eye.

"Do you need any help?" you asked, your voice carrying a note of determination.

Brandon chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You know, you never cease to surprise me," he said, his tone affectionate. "Most women would be preparing for the dance, not offering to join in manual labor."

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Well, I guess I'm not like most women. I don't mind getting my hands dirty."

He studied you for a moment, admiration mingling with a touch of exasperation. "I know you're stubborn and determined," he said, his voice softening. "And as much as I find that both fascinating and frustrating, I wouldn't have you any other way."

With that, he handed you a tool, and together you worked side by side. The labor was hard, but there was a certain rhythm to it that you found soothing. It was a stark contrast to the upcoming dance, but in this moment, you felt more at ease.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the field, Brandon paused and looked at you, his expression serious. "You know, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice hesitant. "About the dance... if at any moment you feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, please let me know. We can leave whenever you want."

You nodded, appreciating his understanding and concern. "Thank you, Christopher," you replied softly. "I promise I'll let you know."

The evening air grew cooler as you finished up the day's work. The fields, now empty of workers, felt peaceful, the only sounds the distant calls of birds and the rustling of leaves. Brandon turned to you, his gaze filled with warmth and love.

"Let's head back," he said, reaching for your hand. "We still need to get ready for tonight."

You smiled and took his hand, feeling a surge of affection for the man who had stood by you through so much. Together, you walked back to the house, the bond between you growing stronger with each step.

Back in your room, you once again donned the cream-colored dress, this time with a sense of purpose. Brandon had been right; you could face this together. As you tied your hair in place, a wave of calm washed over you. Tonight would be a challenge, but with Brandon by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came your way.

Brandon waited for you at the bottom of the stairs, dressed impeccably in his formal attire. When he saw you, his eyes lit up with admiration. "You look stunning," he said, his voice filled with genuine awe.

You blushed, feeling a mix of pride and nervousness. "Thank you," you replied softly. "Shall we go?"

He offered you his arm, and together you stepped out into the night, ready to face the world with love and courage. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with Brandon by your side, you knew you could conquer anything.

In the carriage to Brandon's friend's house, your initial resolve began to falter. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestone streets, once soothing, now only served to amplify your growing dread. Every bump and jolt seemed to shake loose another fragment of your confidence, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. You glanced at Brandon, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your inner turmoil, and tried to draw strength from his presence. But the closer you got to the mansion, the more your fears began to take hold.

As the carriage finally rolled to a stop, your heart pounded so loudly you were certain Brandon could hear it. He stepped out first, his movements deliberate and graceful, but when he turned to help you down, he paused. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably, your body frozen in place. The sight of the servants gathered outside the mansion, their curious eyes fixed on the carriage, made your breath catch in your throat. The thought of facing them, of being seen and possibly judged, was paralyzing.

Brandon noticed your distress immediately. His expression softened, a mixture of concern and understanding crossing his features. He looked up at the coachman, then back at you, his eyes silently pleading with you to come out. The servants continued to watch, their whispers just audible enough to feed your anxiety. Brandon reached out his hand to you, his gesture filled with a quiet desperation, silently begging you to trust him, to take that first step.

Your fear was almost overwhelming, but you knew Brandon deserved more. He had given you so much of himself, and you couldn't bear the thought of disappointing him. With a deep breath, you forced yourself to move, extending a shaky hand towards his. The moment your fingers touched his, you felt a surge of strength flow through you. Brandon's grip was firm and reassuring, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made the world around you fade away.

"Come with me," he murmured softly, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with fear, but you nodded. With Brandon's help, you managed to step out of the carriage, your legs feeling weak and unsteady. The servants' murmurs seemed to grow louder, their eyes following your every move, but you kept your focus on Brandon. He didn't let go of your hand, his grip a constant reminder that you were not alone.

As you walked towards the mansion, your steps slow and hesitant, Brandon stayed close by your side. His presence was a comforting shield against the judgmental gazes and whispered comments. Every now and then, he would give your hand a gentle squeeze, a silent message of support and encouragement. With each step, you felt a bit of your fear begin to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of determination.

Inside, the grand hall was a swirl of color and movement. The guests, resplendent in their finery, danced and mingled beneath glittering chandeliers. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and music, a stark contrast to the silent, dark place of your fears. Brandon led you through the throng, his hand never leaving yours, until you found a quieter corner where you could catch your breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with genuine concern.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "I will be," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "Thank you, Christopher. For everything."

He smiled, a tender and reassuring expression that made your heart swell with affection. "We're in this together," he said simply. "Always."

The moment of quiet between you and Brandon was abruptly interrupted by the approach of a distinguished-looking man, his posture erect and confident. He appeared to be Brandon’s age, if not slightly older, his eyes crinkling with familiarity as he spotted the colonel. Brandon’s expression brightened, and he greeted the man with a broad smile.

“Good evening, Colonel Brandon,” the man said, his voice warm and jovial. He saluted, a gesture that Brandon immediately returned before they both laughed heartily, embracing in a way that spoke of long-standing camaraderie.

Watching their interaction, your curiosity piqued, momentarily eclipsing your lingering fears. Brandon turned to you, his arm still draped over the man’s shoulder. “My dear, may I introduce you to an old friend and the organizer of this ball, Lord Frederick Amherst? Frederick, this is my beloved.”

You composed yourself, straightening your posture and offering a polite bow. “Lord Amherst, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Lord Amherst’s eyes twinkled with amusement and respect as he returned your bow with a slight nod. “The pleasure is mine, my lady. Christopher has spoken so highly of you.”

Brandon’s friend had a commanding presence, his demeanor radiating both authority and warmth. As you engaged in conversation, you felt the weight of the room’s scrutiny lighten, your focus shifting to the amiable exchange between the two men.

“Frederick and I served together for many years,” Brandon explained, his tone filled with nostalgia. “We’ve shared countless campaigns and even more stories.”

Lord Amherst chuckled. “Indeed we have. And many of those stories I’m sure the good colonel here would prefer remain untold.” He winked, a playful glint in his eye.

You smiled, finding comfort in their shared history and the easy rapport they maintained. “I can only imagine the adventures you two have had.”

Brandon squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting pride and affection. “Frederick has always been the more adventurous one, but we balanced each other out.”

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself relaxing, the earlier tension slowly dissipating. The familiarity between Brandon and Lord Amherst offered a glimpse into a part of Brandon’s life you hadn’t fully known, deepening your admiration for him.

Lord Amherst smiled at you, his gaze kind yet curious. “If you’ll excuse us, my lady,” he said, his tone polite. “I’d like to steal Colonel Brandon away for a bit to introduce him to some old mutual friends.”

You nodded, attempting to mask your apprehension. “Of course, Lord Amherst. Enjoy your reunion.”

As Brandon and Lord Amherst walked away, you watched them go, a mixture of pride and anxiety swirling within you. The bustling room, filled with unfamiliar faces, felt suddenly more intimidating in Brandon’s absence. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to remain composed and dignified, determined not to bring any shame to Brandon’s name.

Meanwhile, Lord Amherst led Brandon through the crowded hall, a jovial expression masking the serious conversation he intended to have. Once they were out of earshot of others, Amherst turned to Brandon, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“Christopher, I must admit, I’ve heard some troubling rumors about your wife,” he began cautiously. “Is there any truth to them?”

Brandon frowned, his expression darkening. “What rumors, Frederick?”

Lord Amherst hesitated, then continued. “People are saying you left Miss Marianne Dashwood to marry a woman of… unstable mind. Is there any truth to this?”

Brandon’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. “You are misinformed, Frederick. I did not leave Miss Dashwood. She was committed to someone else at the time, and I respected her choice. When that engagement ended, I had already met and fallen in love with my wife.”

Frederick’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “But Miss Dashwood is still single, and the rumors about your wife...”

Brandon cut him off, his voice low and firm. “My wife is not ‘unstable,’ Frederick. She is a remarkable woman, and I love her deeply. The rumors are nothing but vicious gossip, spread by those who do not know her.”

Lord Amherst’s skepticism was evident. “I understand your loyalty, Christopher, but the talk is persistent. Are you sure you’ve made the right choice?”

Brandon’s temper flared. “Frederick, I came here to see an old friend, not to listen to slander about my wife. If you cannot respect her, then perhaps this conversation is over.”

The tension between the two men was palpable. Amherst’s expression softened, realizing he had overstepped. “I meant no offense, Christopher. I’m just concerned for you.”

Brandon’s gaze was steely. “Then trust my judgment. She is my wife, and I will not tolerate any disrespect towards her.”

Frederick raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Very well, Christopher. I see you are resolute. Let us leave this matter and enjoy the evening.”

Brandon nodded curtly, though the anger still simmered beneath his calm exterior. “Thank you.”

As they rejoined the gathering, Brandon’s thoughts remained with you, standing alone among strangers. His love for you and his determination to protect you from gossip and scorn were unwavering. The night was meant for reconnecting with old friends, but it had also become a testament to his steadfast loyalty and devotion to you.

Back in the grand hall, you stood by a table laden with refreshments, trying to look at ease. A few guests approached you, engaging in polite conversation, and you responded with measured grace. Yet, your eyes kept drifting towards the spot where Brandon and Lord Amherst had disappeared, a quiet worry gnawing at you.

When Brandon finally returned, his expression softened as he found you amidst the crowd. He made his way to you, his presence a comforting anchor. But he was stopped halfway to his destination by none other than the Dashwoods. Brandon froze as he caught sight of Marianne Dashwood; her beauty still enchanted him despite everything. She was as captivating as ever, and his heart fluttered involuntarily.

"Elinor, look who it is," Marianne exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she noticed Brandon. "Colonel Brandon, what a pleasant surprise to see you here!"

Elinor Dashwood, always composed and gracious, greeted Brandon warmly. "Colonel Brandon, it is indeed a pleasure to see you. How have you been?"

Brandon turned away from Marianne's eyes to greet Elinor back, trying to maintain his composure despite the rush of emotions that seeing Marianne stirred within him. "Miss Dashwood, Miss Marianne, it is a pleasure to see both of you. I trust you are both well."

Marianne, still as spirited and lively as ever, was quick to engage him further. She took a step closer, fanning herself lightly with a delicate fan that drew Brandon's eyes to her cleavage for a moment before he quickly averted his gaze. He searched the room over Marianne's shoulder, looking for his wife.

"It's been such a long time since we last saw you, Colonel," Marianne said, her tone teasing yet affectionate. "I was hoping you might accompany me for a dance tonight."

Brandon's heart skipped a beat. He knew he had to tread carefully. "Miss Marianne, I appreciate the invitation, but I'm afraid I must ask my wife for permission first."

Marianne's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity crossing her features. "Your wife?" she asked softly, her tone betraying her emotions.

Brandon nodded, his gaze softening as he spoke. "Yes, my wife. She is here with me tonight."

Elinor smiled understandingly. "Of course, Colonel. We shall look forward to seeing both of you on the dance floor later."

With a polite nod, Brandon excused himself from Marianne's invitation, but before he could take another step, Marianne put a hand on his arm, her touch gentle yet insistent. "Oh, come now, Colonel," she said with a playful smile. "Surely one dance wouldn't hurt."

Elinor, ever the voice of reason, tried to dissuade her sister, casting a concerned glance towards Brandon. "Marianne, perhaps it's best to let Colonel Brandon be. He may have other obligations tonight."

But Marianne seemed determined, her grip on Brandon's arm tightening slightly as she squeezed it. Brandon looked at her, his expression torn between politeness and discomfort. He knew he couldn't refuse her without causing a scene, yet the thought of dancing with Marianne, with all the memories and emotions it would stir, filled him with apprehension.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, you watched the exchange with a heavy heart, insecurity gripping your chest. You had heard whispers from Brandon's employees about his past feelings for Marianne, even though Brandon had assured you that those feelings were long gone and that his love now belonged to you. But seeing them together, with her hand on his arm, brought a surge of doubt and unease.

They made a striking pair, Brandon's tall, stoic figure contrasting with Marianne's vivacious charm. They seemed to match in a way that you and Brandon never quite did, and the sight filled you with a sense of inadequacy.

Feeling your hands shaking, you set aside your drink and gathered your skirts, making your way outside in search of some fresh air. The night air was cool against your skin, the gentle rustle of leaves a soothing contrast to the turmoil within you.

As you walked, you tried to push away the nagging doubts and insecurities that threatened to overwhelm you. You reminded yourself of Brandon's words, of his love and devotion to you. Yet, the image of him with Marianne lingered in your mind, a painful reminder of the past that refused to be ignored.

You found a secluded spot in the garden, away from the prying eyes and whispered conversations of the party. Sitting down on a bench, you closed your eyes and took slow, deep breaths, willing yourself to regain control of your emotions.

"I'm not good enough for him," you whispered to yourself, the fear of being a burden to Brandon resurfacing. The weight of societal expectations and the relentless whispers of gossip clawed at your resolve. "I will ruin everything," you muttered, your voice tinged with despair.

Looking up at the stars, you sought solace in their quiet beauty. Among them, Venus shone brightly, a beacon of hope and love. "Venus will take me away, won't she?" you murmured, a desperate plea to the heavens above.

Just as you felt yourself slipping further into a spiral of anxiety, a voice interrupted your thoughts, calling your name. You turned, startled, and froze in shock at the sight of your old doctor approaching you. His presence brought back memories of his treatments, the pain, and the fear you had felt during those dark days.

"Miss [Your Last Name]," the doctor greeted you with a calm demeanor, his voice soft yet unsettlingly familiar. "It's been a long time."

Your breath quickened at the sight of him, the old wounds reopening fresh in your mind. His presence was a stark reminder of the life you had fought so hard to leave behind. "Dr. Peters," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "What... what are you doing here?"

The doctor's gaze was steady, assessing. "I heard about the party tonight and thought I might see some old acquaintances," he explained vaguely, his tone giving away nothing of his true intentions. "And here I find you, looking as lovely as ever."

You shrank back slightly, a mixture of fear and unease coursing through you. "I... I was just taking a moment," you stammered, attempting to mask your discomfort. "I didn't expect to see you."

Dr. Peters inclined his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Forgive me if I've startled you," he said, his voice silky smooth. "It's just that I couldn't help but notice you sitting here alone. Is everything alright?"

Your heart raced, the memories of his treatments flashing before your eyes. "Yes, everything is fine," you replied, your voice strained. "I just needed some air."

The doctor's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something akin to satisfaction. "Of course," he said, his tone almost mocking. "It's a lovely night for a party."

You glanced around nervously, trying to find a way to excuse yourself. "I should... I should go back inside," you muttered, your voice shaking.

As you moved to stand, Dr. Peters reached out and placed a hand on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "You know, Miss [Your Last Name]," he began, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I always admired your strength."

You froze, his words like a dagger in your heart. The memories of the pain he had inflicted, both physical and emotional, flooded your mind. "Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling, "don't."

But Dr. Peters ignored your distress, his grip tightening on your arm. "You were always so resilient," he continued, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "I wonder how you've managed to survive without my treatments."

Panic gripped you, your breath coming in short gasps. "Let go of me," you demanded, your voice stronger now despite the fear coursing through you.

"But you're not a miss anymore, are you, Lady Brandon?" Dr. Peters said softly, almost to himself, as if relishing the power he held over you. "I heard about your wedding to Colonel Brandon. Quite the scandal, isn't it?"

Your heart raced, and you began to murmur, calling out for Venus, seeking solace in the stars above. But Dr. Peters only tightened his grip on your arm, pulling you closer until his face was mere inches from yours.

"Control your mind, Lady Brandon," he whispered in your ear, his voice a chilling command. And against your will, you froze, unable to resist his hypnotic influence.

The doctor's smile widened as he released your arm, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze fixed on you. "I don't understand why your parents stopped your treatment," he mused aloud, his tone mocking. "There was progress, you know. You could control yourself more because of me. I could make a good research study out of it, help other people. But then, it was all abruptly stopped."

You remained silent, unable to find your voice as the memories of his treatments flooded back, the pain and the fear intertwined with his taunting words. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the power he wielded over you like a weapon.

"I was surprised to hear you would be at this dance," Dr. Peters continued, his voice low and menacing. "Everyone is focusing on you, the unstable-minded wife of Colonel Brandon. Some ladies speculate that he only married you out of obligation, that you must have done something inappropriate with him, and the Duke, your father, forced him into this marriage."

The doctor's words cut through the haze of fear and doubt that clouded your mind, piercing straight to the heart of your insecurities. You tried to deny his accusations, to protest the lies he was weaving, but his raised finger silenced you once more. The weight of his words settled heavily upon your shoulders, crushing you with the fear of tarnishing Brandon's name.

As you hung your head, feeling like a burden, the doctor saw your doubts and smiled, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and malevolence. "You see, my dear Lady Brandon," he said softly, his voice dripping with honeyed malice, "I could help you. I could ensure that your... issues don't become a permanent stain on your husband's name."

His words struck a chord within you, sparking a tumultuous battle of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thought of returning to Dr. Peters' treatments filled you with dread, recalling the pain and suffering you had endured under his care. Yet, the fear of causing further harm to Brandon's reputation gnawed at your conscience, threatening to overwhelm your resolve.

"You know where to find me," the doctor continued smoothly, as if sensing your internal struggle. "My office address remains the same. Think about it, Lady Brandon. Think about what is best for your husband."

With a final smirk, Dr. Peters turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the garden, your thoughts in turmoil. You watched him disappear into the darkness, his figure a sinister silhouette against the moonlit path.

Alone with your thoughts, you paced back and forth, grappling with the weight of Dr. Peters' proposition. Could returning to his treatments truly save you from the demons that haunted your mind? Would it prevent the rumors from spreading further, sparing Brandon from further humiliation?

But as you wrestled with these questions, another voice broke through your turmoil, a voice that echoed with calm reassurance and unwavering love. "My Lady," a familiar voice called out softly from the garden's edge.

You turned, heart skipping a beat as Brandon approached you, concern etched on his face. His presence was a balm to your troubled soul, grounding you in the reality of his unwavering love and support.

"Christopher," you whispered, relief flooding your senses as he drew near. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, enveloping you in his strong embrace.

"You left the ball so suddenly," he murmured against your hair, his voice tinged with worry. "Are you alright, my love?"

You clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace, uncertain if you should reveal the unsettling encounter with your old doctor. The night had shattered your composure, and Brandon's warmth offered a refuge from the storm raging inside you. You must have been silent for a long time, lost in the comfort of his arms, because Brandon began to speak softly, his voice tinged with concern.

"My love, I apologize if my conversation with Miss Marianne upset you," he murmured against your hair. "If it made you uncomfortable, I promise I won't let it happen again."

Your heart sank at the mention of Marianne Dashwood, her image flashing vividly in your mind. You turned away slightly from Brandon, grappling with the weight of your insecurities before gathering the courage to voice your fears.

"Christopher," you began tentatively, "do you... still have feelings for Miss Dashwood?"

Brandon looked away, his expression conflicted as he clenched his fist lightly. The silence that followed was enough of an answer for you. Your heart broke slightly, though you had expected such an outcome. How could anyone not be captivated by such a young and beautiful woman?

Taking a step back, you composed yourself, mustering the courage to broach a difficult topic. "Perhaps... perhaps we should consider an annulment," you suggested quietly, your voice trembling slightly. "You could try again with Marianne."

Brandon shook his head, his heart sinking at the direction the conversation had taken. "No, my dear, not that again," he said softly, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. He gently lifted your chin, meeting your eyes with a tender gaze. "Seeing Miss Marianne again... it did bring back memories, but it doesn't mean I'm in love with her. It's you, only you, that I love."

You scoffed bitterly, unable to hide the pain in your eyes. Brandon glanced over his shoulder, noticing a few people in the distance who seemed to be observing the two of you. His grip on your arm tightened slightly, a silent plea not to make a scene.

"Let's not discuss this here," he whispered urgently, his voice laced with worry. "People are looking."

You followed his gaze and saw the curious glances directed your way. A wave of inadequacy washed over you, making you feel unworthy, a burden—a crazy woman no one wanted to be around.

The doctor's words echoed in your mind, intensifying your inner turmoil. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were embarrassing Brandon's name. The thought twisted your gut, reinforcing your insecurities.

"I..." you began, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just..."

Brandon's expression softened, his concern deepening as he tried to comfort you. "Shhh," he whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "It's alright, my love. Please, let's go somewhere more private."

Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you, you nodded silently, allowing Brandon to lead you away from the prying gazes. As you walked together, the doubt and fear continued to gnaw at your heart. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were letting Brandon down—that you were somehow not enough for him.

Brandon guided you to a secluded corner of the garden, away from the curious onlookers. He turned to face you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with gentle intensity.

"I know tonight has been difficult for you," he began softly, his voice filled with empathy. "But please, believe me when I say that you are everything to me. Miss Marianne is a part of my past, and though I may have cared for her once, my love for you is different—it's deeper, stronger."

Tears welled up in your eyes, your heart aching with the intensity of your emotions. "I... I want to believe you," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "But seeing you with her, it just..."

Brandon's thumb brushed away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I understand," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I should have been more attentive, more considerate of your feelings."

You shook your head, feeling guilty for causing a scene. "No, it's not your fault," you protested softly. "I'm just... I feel so inadequate, Christopher. She's so young, so beautiful, and I..."

Brandon's expression softened further, his heart breaking for the pain you were feeling. "You are not inadequate," he insisted firmly, his voice unwavering. "You are my wife, my love, and you bring me more happiness than I ever thought possible."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "But what if I'm not enough?" you whispered, the fear lingering in your voice.

Brandon gently tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "You are more than enough," he said firmly, his eyes searching yours. "I married you because I love you, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing and no one could ever change that."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your heart warming at his words. "I love you too," you murmured, your voice filled with gratitude and relief.

Brandon pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the doubts and insecurities that plagued your mind. "Let's go home," he said softly against your hair. "We can leave this place behind and focus on us."

You nodded against his chest, feeling safe and loved in his embrace. As you left the garden together, the weight of the night's events began to lift from your shoulders. You knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Brandon by your side, you were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

And as you walked away from the whispers and the doubts, you knew deep in your heart that Brandon's love was the anchor that would keep you grounded, no matter what storms may come.

As you and Brandon arrived home, the weight of the evening’s events seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comforting familiarity of your shared sanctuary. Brandon guided you gently up the stairs, his hand warm and steady in yours. When you reached your bedroom, he closed the door behind you, enclosing the two of you in a cocoon of privacy and intimacy.

Brandon’s eyes met yours, filled with a blend of concern and love. Without a word, he began to help you out of your cream-colored dress. His fingers worked deftly at the buttons and laces, his touch gentle yet firm. As he eased the fabric from your shoulders, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your exposed skin. The warmth of his lips against your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine.

“You looked stunning tonight,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of heat through you. “It’s a shame I didn’t dance with you.”

You sighed softly, feeling the last of the tension melt away under his touch. “It’s alright,” you whispered, though a part of you wished you had shared a dance with him.

Brandon’s hands slid the dress down your arms, letting it pool at your feet in a soft whisper of fabric. He stepped back slightly, his gaze taking in the sight of you standing before him in your undergarments. “The dress is beautiful,” he said, his voice huskier now, “but I much prefer it on the floor.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you felt your cheeks flush with a mixture of desire and anticipation. Brandon stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you against him. His lips found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, conveying the depth of his feelings more eloquently than words ever could.

“I’ve missed you tonight,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot against your lips. “Every moment I spent away from you felt like an eternity.”

Your hands found their way to the buttons of his waistcoat, fumbling slightly in your eagerness. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and helped you remove his clothing piece by piece. Soon, he stood before you, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your bodies.

As he guided you towards the bed, his hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a reverence that made your heart swell. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice a fervent promise. “Never doubt that.”

You reached up, pulling him down to you, your fingers threading through his hair as you kissed him deeply. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the love that bound you together. Brandon’s hands moved with a surety that spoke of his familiarity with your body, his touch igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment.

“Christopher,” you breathed, your voice filled with longing and need. “I love you.”

He responded with a kiss, his lips trailing a path of heat down your neck and over your collarbone. “I love you more than words can express,” he murmured against your skin. “And I intend to show you just how much tonight.”

But even as Brandon's tender words enveloped you in warmth, doubts hovered in your mind. How could he truly love you, a woman plagued by insecurities and fears? The whispers of Dr. Peters and the sight of Marianne's enchanting beauty resurfaced, making you question your worth.

Brandon seemed to sense your turmoil. He sighed softly, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. "You are you, and that's why I love you," he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "Crazy or not, I love you."

You opened your mouth to protest, to voice the doubts gnawing at your heart, but Brandon silenced you with a kiss. His lips were a tender reassurance against your own, whispering softly against them, "You are my crazy woman, and I am your colonel, old and stupid."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of amusement and arousal sparking within you. The playful tone in his voice, combined with the fierce sincerity of his gaze, melted your insecurities. Brandon's hands roamed your body with a newfound urgency, his touch igniting a fire that burned away the remnants of your doubts.

He kissed his way down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "You drive me wild, you know that?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Every part of you—your mind, your body—sets me ablaze."

You gasped softly, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. "Christopher," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire and emotion. "I need you."

Brandon responded with a growl of approval, his hands moving to unfasten your undergarments with deft precision. "I'll show you just how much I need you, too," he promised, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

He kissed his way down your body, his lips and tongue exploring your curves with a reverence that made your heart race. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Tell me what you want, my love," he urged, his voice a velvet command. "I want to hear you say it."

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze sending a wave of heat through you. "I want you," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want all of you."

Brandon's smile was both tender and wicked as he lowered his head, his mouth finding its way to the most intimate part of you. His tongue moved with a skill and precision that left you gasping, your fingers tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

He took his time, savoring every moan and gasp that escaped your lips, drawing out your pleasure until you were on the brink of begging for release. When you could take no more, he rose to his knees, his eyes dark with desire. "You are mine," he whispered fiercely, positioning himself between your legs. "And I am yours."

As he entered you, a moan of pure ecstasy escaped your lips, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that was both primal and tender. Brandon's hands gripped your hips, his movements sure and deliberate, each thrust sending you higher into a realm of pleasure where only the two of you existed.

"Say it," he urged, his voice strained with his own desire. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you gasped, the intensity of your feelings overwhelming you. "I'm yours, Christopher."

Brandon's pace quickened, his grip tightening as he drove you both toward the edge. "And I'm yours," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

Your release came in a wave of ecstasy, your body trembling in his arms as he followed you into the abyss, his own climax ripping through him with a force that left you both breathless.

In the aftermath, as you lay entwined in each other's arms, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you earlier seemed to dissipate. Brandon held you close, his hand gently stroking your hair, his heartbeat a steady reassurance against your own.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice a soft caress. "No matter what, I will always love you."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with a love that matched his own. "And I love you," you replied, your voice steady and sure. "Always."

As you drifted into a peaceful sleep in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. For you were his crazy woman, and he was your colonel, old and stupid—but more importantly, you were each other's, bound by a love that would withstand any storm.

#colonel brandon x reader #sense and sensibility #colonel brandon #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman

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brandileigh2003 · 3 days

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[#FFF255 prompt In the Heart] @flashfictionfridayofficial

CW: major character death, hospitals

Ship: remus lupin/sirius black

Words: 996

Feel free to give kudos on AO3 if you want ❤️❤️

“Sirius?” Remus croaked.

“Remus? Are really awake this time?” Sirius asked, pressing the button for the mediwitch. He glanced up at the spell displaying Remus' heart rate and grimaced. He didn't like what he saw.

“Yeah, think so. What's happening?” Remus said, attempting to sit-up but failing.

“Remus, they discovered what's wrong. There's a hole…” Sirius blinked back tears, trying to compose himself. “It's in the heart.”

He'd had nearly three weeks to try to process this. Three weeks in mungos after that horrible full moon. Moony had barely howled, the only time he’d gotten up was to sniff Padfoot and nudge him to curl up together. After the change back, Sirius thought he would lose Remus. Never get to see his beautiful eyes again, never get to hear his voice again or tell him he loves him. But he got his heart started and to the hospital, lips blue and face pale. Then he'd not fully woken up until today.

“Don't cry, cariad. Come here,” Remus said, patting the bed.

Sirius gingerly sat down and buried his face in his neck. He wasn't sure how long he cried. He knew that the mediwitch and healer both came in; he could feel the vibrations of Remus talking to them but he had no idea what was said.

Eventually, the world slowly started to come back into focus. He felt Remus playing with his hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. The very heart that was going to take his husband from him in all likelihood within the next seven days.

“We were supposed to have more time,” Sirius said when he finally sat up.

“Sirius, my love, we've had more time than we ever imagined,” Remus said.

And while that was true, it really didn't make any of this any better. They were 63, and the average lifespan for those with lycanthropy was about 45, and that number was lower for those bitten as children. And they had made the most of their time. They discovered the horcruxes through kreature, forced Dumbledore to give over what he knew, and worked through a way to deal with the one inside of Harry. Harry had helped clear Sirius’ name and they settled in a cottage in the countryside, a room set up for Harry. They'd gotten married, traveled, worked to make wolfsbane accessible and advocated for changes in the laws associated with lycanthropy.

And this wasn't a surprise, not really. Remus was wheelchair bound, he had potions for multiple organs that just couldn't keep up with the years of transformations. Moony had grown weaker right along with Remus and it was heartbreaking to see.

Remus had given up pieces of himself, his pride and independence. They'd had fights about Remus wanting Sirius to be able to have more time to himself, instead of constantly have to take care of Remus. Sirius was happy to do it but after lots of therapy and learning to communicate and compromise, they had hired someone to come in and help with the house and with Remus’ medical care. Sirius had a hard time giving over that control, but it gave Remus peace of mind.

“Sirius? Can we go home? I don't want my last days to be here,” Remus asked later that evening. Sirius had been reading to him, something that they often did, and he dropped the book.

It felt like ice had flooded his veins and then stabbed him right in his heart. Maybe they were connected now? If Remus’ stops, so will his? He almost wished that it would, but he thought of Harry and their family, and knew that no matter how much it would hurt, he couldn't truly hope for it. Although how he would go on without the man who was his other half, he had no idea.

“Yeah, Moony. Let's wait until tomorrow okay?” Sirius knew that the healer who would be on in the morning would be kind, and give Remus whatever he might need instead of being prejudiced and sending them on their way with nothing. Sirius could get them what they needed, he would do anything for Remus, but it was easier with the hospital’s help.

Sirius didn't sleep that night, watching over Remus, and he barely did the next 6 days either. Remus was much more comfortable at home, and people were in and out visiting all of the time. Everyone knew what was happening, and they had tearful conversations of course, but they tried to keep it upbeat.

Remus got weaker but he seemed at peace. He slept more and more until the morning of the full moon, when he actually was able to get up by himself and the blueish tint from his lips, fingers and toes had disappeared. Sirius hoped so much for a miracle but it was also a known thing that could happen to those who are dying. A sudden burst of energy which unfortunately usually didn't last very long. Remus danced with Sirius to their wedding song, knowing Sirius loved to dance but Remus was horrible. After that it was late afternoon and Remus convinced Sirius that he wanted to make love. Sirius was nervous, he didn't want to do anything to stress his heart, but he also knew it was a matter of time, and he wanted to give Remus everything he could ask for.

After, they lay together until it was time to go to their safe room. Remus wasn't able to take the wolfsbane this time around and they were both a little sad about it. But it turned out it wasn't needed, because minutes before moonrise, Remus looked into his eyes and said: “I'll see you in our next lifetime okay? I love you.”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus went slack in his arms and for the first time since he was four, stayed human beneath a full moon.

#flash fiction #flash fiction Friday #wolfstar #remus lupin #marauders #sirius black #mcd #fanfic #older wolfstar

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whatudottu · 7 days

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Something about Altered Loyalties CYLAS just really makes me want to include him in the first place but also makes me really really REALLY think that with the more supernatural elements of AL based off of the original TFP pilot (or just first episode/s?) that CYLAS as a ‘dead man walking’ would actually let him stay around longer AND also be a very significant contributing factor to Megatron’s downfall in Decepticon favour!

Of course it’s not as if I have the pieces of the TFP rewrite au firmly put into place, CYLAS in canon shows up just over halfway into season 2, and many of my most established changes occur in the first like… including all the parts of ‘Darkness Rising’ 8 episodes of season one; I have no idea if the environment CYLAS presents himself in is the same one canon CYLAS does.

But with the dubiousity between s1 e8 all the way to s2 e19, I’ll establish the basic context… I think in story mode maybe…

Looking at the general timeline for the Aligned Continuity, it says that the first contact of cybertronians on Earth is dated to about 500 years before the show, give or take a decade. I’ve been listing Skyquake’s little EHP pitstop to have existed at least 50 years before the war reached our planet, but what if I pushed it all the way back to 500; if a vorn is 83 years, that’d be about 6 years on an entirely different planet not knowing truly if your twin is going to make it, a planet which by the way presently has no established radio systems that it’s horrifically quiet for a terrestrial environment.

That means that Skyquake’s EHP Comms Array has been transmitting a signal long before humans had developed radio, which also means that what might’ve been blatantly an anomaly in the system if discovered 50 odd years previous to 2012 (which would’ve been in the 60s give or take which would not have been good in the literal middle of the cold war era) has been going for centuries because it had always been there, there is no anomaly because it is a signal that has existed ever since humans were able to manipulate radiowaves into sending messages and translate them into detectable noise. It helps that cybertronian language and code (both code lang and like literal programming code) is a system unknown to humans developing their own language.

And you may be asking, why did I divert this post from talking about CYLAS and how he’d outlast his canon alternate to radio shit? Well, if you were a paramilitary organisation who is pretty good at erasing signals and you discovered a signal that has been actively running for the entirety of human radio has suddenly been silenced, what would you begin to suspect at that?

Aliens may potentially be a stretch but MECH didn’t just name themselves after the cybertronians fighting war on their planet, and once the cybertronian conflict touched down on Earth, the Decepticons hadn’t a need for an intergalactic communications array and in fact was specifically instructed to switch it off in an effort to prevent the Autobots from using it. That would’ve been about maybe 6 years ago for the show (wow just enough equivalent time to match what Skyquake felt he spent grounded to one radio tower look at that) and though MECH would not encounter their first cybertronian until ‘Convoy’ (haha wait that’s s1 e9 the next ep to cover - if necessary - for Altered Loyalties lmao), they would’ve had 6 years to find that missing signal and stumble across some very definitely alien technology.

That is one of the reasons why the rewrite of ‘Masters and Students’ which is less masters and students focused - rather the point is Skyquake, a team of Nemesis stationed vehcions and Starscream investigate the comms array and set it up manually - why the radio tower wasn’t switching on from a remote position.

The other reason was because the Guardian unit stationed at the comms array - the very ones that had accompanied Skyquake all those stellar cycles ago - had gone missing. Why?

Because of Megatron’s flagrant use of Dark Energon.

Points 1 and 2 listed above leads to the explosion of the comms array, the death of Skyquake, and MECH either being alerted to the point of alien contact or just in general going to the site for more study only to find a dead specimen. After the discovery of the Autobots with the body of Skyquake, MECH begins their initial study and dissection of cybertronian physiology, though without a live subject they couldn’t exactly see what parts function in what way, especially the t-cog.

The discovery of Skyquake led to the discovery of terrorcons which lead to the discovery of how to take down a cybertron and how to take it apart without it screaming. MECH would learn the programming of a cybertronian through vehicon terrorcons since, even with DE corruption, their processors are still somewhat being maintained. While probably not able to access memories (they are fickle things, memory centres, easy to damage storage or to corrupt files) there are still systems responsible for pain and other more processor based responsibilities that aren’t centred in a physical organ that reads in fine print it’s function.

Breakdown being MECH’s first fully functional living mecha for their study is so exciting for them (even if Breakdown is very much less enthused) because they can put what knowledge they’ve pieced together to be far more efficient with their time and focus on the elements they could not decipher from either corpse or zombie and potentially try and prod at Breakdown’s brain for some cohesive coding. Good think Bulkhead still shows up when he does even with Breakdown walking away with the dreadful thought of ‘how the hell do these fleshies already know so much’ boring into his head… mainly through the optic that was still drilled out-

Whether or not MECH needs to get another living cybertronian to get caught up in their understanding of the biomechanics of them (aka would 'Operation: Bumblebee' take place as it does) or they skip right onto making a remote control Prime having gotten a headstart on their knowledge and scaring the scrap out of any bot unlucky enough to be unconscious around them, eventually Silas gets smooshed and MECH scientists are reliant on their alien dissections to get the human puree back to the land of the living.

I'd assume that this was the case in the original since if Silas' biomatter was able to be collected from a pile of robot drone induced rubble the RC truck would've been able to be recovered as well, but MECH discovers that using Nemesis Prime as a lifesupport system does not work given all it's functionality is focused on visually replicating another cybertronian, rather than using it to create life. There's a lot of parts and systems to a cybertronian's biological ecology that wasn't put into consideration for a mimic toy that prove detrimental to creating a suitable ah... skin suit essentially for Silas' blood pudding, but MECH has an abundance of corpses ready and raring to be used just so long as they piece them back together again.

Amid MECH's collection would no doubt be a mass of vehicon bodies - some untouched by energon others taken down explicitly by MECH because they were terrorcons - some terrorcons made up from the bodies of the previous conflict pre-show (and not just a hypothetical ancient war, but explicitly the conflict that culled a lot of Autobot and Decepticon officers amid the show expected vehicon death), and the very first cybertronian sample they started studying, Skyquake himself! Being at the origin of the blast at the EHP Comms Array he wasn't kept in perfect condition for one, the arm he loses as a terrorcon in the Shadowzone is still lost - it's been buried under rubble after being severed with radio tower pieces - and the monochromatic glass over his optics has long since been shattered so you can see the 'pupil' aka sensor, but seeing as how CYLAS makes Breakdown's corpse somehow look worse than what Airachnid left it as MECH probably has to suture that fucker back up because there's not way his organs have been left untouched!

And once CYLAS has been successfully integrated into his new cybertronian shell (some sort of arm, either being a loaner from another corpse or straight up just one MECH invented, it could even be a copy of the missing arm but where's the fun in that) instead of getting all high and mighty about 'being of a superior species' Silas actually bloody thinks on MECH's plans going forward. With a literal army of paramilitary personnel, from the scientists that melded human flesh with cybertronian wires to the average grunt soldier fighting between the battles of iron giants, CYLAS has something that Megatron (at least the Altered Loyalties Megatron I have written previously) has wanted from the start of the series...

An undying force.

For as large as cybertronians physically are their numbers can never match the scale of humanity, I can't remember if the books mentioned only thousands of the dead or up to a million over the course of like... a long fucking time but, that's not even the number of the human population if you're caught up with the number (nearly 8 billion alive today). And with the dead of previous battles already roaming the Earth, in a world where Megatron still being only like one dude can't command a planet wide population of zombies, the only reason he doesn't turn his blade to the weakest denominators of his forces in his plagued state is because their conscious decision to serve him is worth more than mindless servitude.

CYLAS introducing himself and MECH as a solution to this issue, and providing a show of bountiful body horror, makes not even the Decepticon high command quite as safe as they had been; not that it's been proven to be safe standing by Megatron's side given his track record of wanting his SiCs beaten or killed but...

The fact that CYLAS just so happened to have given and then promptly brutalised Dreadwing's hope that Skyquake may have been actually alive, just severely damaged (and, bond weakened from distance and prior injury, clinging to the last shreds of 'my spark didn't kill me with him' reasoning) and broke him out of the spell of blind loyalty to his once great leader.

CYLAS in this version has a little bit more longevity to his existence within the Decepticon forces, not actually a Decepticon soldier as the canon CYLAS pledged himself as but 'The Human Factor' the episode so calls itself akin to the way the American government and the human children are to the Autobots, but being able to physically go toe-to-toe with cybertronians. Megatron might be a little tired of dealing with independents after Airachnid's escapade (I do intend to make her more into a poacher/torturer type character than another Starscream so she might act out a little differently), but Silas isn't one for licking boots anytime soon and as CYLAS, Megatron is no different; you'd think he wouldn't have even done that in the first place given he's already an ex-military 'take-no-nonsense' bitch, but the Breakdown in him probably made him a lapdog...

Anyway that's a whole big post about Altered Loyalties CYLAS... or at least the in depth reasoning behind why he could still integrate himself into the story and why he'd probably have more opportunity to lasting- i prommy it's not bc i like torturing skyquake likers *wink*

I guess this is now a canon event or at least I'll try to make it canon ;)

#silas #silas tfp #leland bishop #CYLAS #tfp CYLAS #MECH #tfp MECH #should i tag other characters? if they're mentioned they're mostly just gonna be corpses #eh whatever this is a MECH post mostly so whatever #transformers #tfp #tfp au #altered loyalties #maccadam #realising that the altered loyalties tag does not include my first post despite me tagging it fuck off #eh whatever the search for it ironically works fine for some fucking reason #the funny thing about rewriting tfp unlike any other rewrite au is that #this starts off pretty fucking immediately since skyquake has been on earth conscious for 500 years he is already in the show #which is different from other rewrite aus like the starscream rewrites (in shadowzone when he stabs himself with dark energon/wakes up)#or knock out rewrites (either operation breakdown the episode after or even all the way to crossfire in season 2)#rewrite fanfic readers who recognise those beginnings- i wink at you #it does mean that there are fundamental changes literally immediately that i have to consider in relation to the whole series #and how it would effect later events that i might like to include but potentially can't #thirst is a really fun episode- have no idea if it'd be able to show up in the first place #but because i couldn't care for the human factor as an episode and more so about the concept of CYLAS himself well- it was easy to separate #he conceptually fits in with the zombies i thought were going to be a main focus for the series back when i was first watching tfp #it got me hyped up in a way that um... it's not like i don't like tfp but my experience from the pilot to the experience i have with the #show is um very different- not in a bad way but i thought it was very cool to do the zombie thing #but the show didn't go that route until the movie when the supernatural elements were kinda... restrained by that point #anyway back to CYLAS- introducing him to a story where this megatron is a little more obsessed with undead armies

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vanilkaplays · 11 days

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You know how Wyll is sad during the tiefling party, because he's been transformed into a devil, which is why he isolates from the festivities by the lake? I wanted to try something different during this playthrough when I'm romancing him, so I put off recruiting Karlach and did the goblin camp all without her. I was curious to see whether that changes Wyll's mood during the party.

What did I find out? That man is just a bundle of worry.

When you don't confront Karlach before the party, he isn't sad about having been transformed into a devil, because that didn't happen, but he worries that Karlach is still out there and innocent people might be in danger.

So, I went back, and recruited Karlach just before the party, so Mizora didn't have a chance to transform Wyll yet.

Then he isn't sad about his transformation, which didn't happen, and doesn't worry about Karlach being out there any more, because she is our friend now, but he... just worries. He worries about the tieflings and how they'll survive out there on their own.

Not to even mention that he must secretly worry about what Mizora will do to him, as well, because we have spared Karlach.

I don't want to go that road in this playthrough, but I don't suppose that killing Karlach would make him feel any better during the party, either. I imagine that'd just bring other awful feelings. It doesn't solve the problem with the tiefling refugees being in peril, either.

Mission failed. Local man still suffers from anxiety.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Wyll Ravengard

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bet-on-me-13 · 9 months

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Danny may be a Ghost Baby who feels like an Anicent, but his friends don't.

SO, we all know the Ghost Baby Headcanon by now right? The idea that Danny is literally a Toddler by Ghost Standards, but because of how powerful he is everybody else believes that he is an Ancient or a God who is hogging the Mortal World to himself.

But what about his friends?

They were right there when the Portal opened. No Hazmat Suits, no Cover, no Protection from the Dimension of Pure Energy that had just been opened right in front of them.

That has to have some kind of Side Effects!

And actually, we do know of a Character who was just standing in front of a Portal when it opened and still got affected by it. Vlad.

While Danny was turned into a Halfa instantly, his friends would be more similar to Vlad in that they are slow to transform.

It takes weeks, but eventually they become mini-halfas themselves. Except they didn't have an entire Dimension of energy pushed into them upon fully forming, so their Ecto-Signatures actually feel like the babies they are supposed to be.

So imagine this from the Ghosts perspective.

They meet this guy called Phantom, a Halfa who is Extremely Powerful, but nobody has seen him in centuries. He was known as a very powerful Protector Spirit for millennia, randomly showing up across history, but always helping others. And then he just vanished one day, not seen again for centuries.

Until recently, when he showed in the Mortal World, stopping any other Ghost from fulfilling their Obsessions with Humans. And by his side are 2 smaller Halfa's that feel like they must have barely formed. You can see where this is going.

They think Sam and Tucker are Danny's children.

It makes sense! A Powerful Ancient, known for protecting people, suddenly disappears for centuries and then shows up again with 2 baby Halfa's in tow? That sounds like a Protector Spirit who lost his will to fight, decided to settled down in the Mortal Realm, and then found out that 2 baby Halfa's were formed when a Portal was opened!

He isn't selfishly holding the Mortal Realm to himself! He's protecting the Fledgling Haunt of his 2 Babies! They must still have living Family, that's why he is so adamant that they don't hurt the Civilains in their battles!

Now they just feel like assholes for attacking the Baby's dad when he was just trying to protect their stuff.

Danny finds this both extremely infuriating, and also agonizingly hilarious.

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey.

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters.

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places.

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies.

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja?

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it.

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you.

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach.

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air?

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too.

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely.

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands.

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass.

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute?

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you?

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating.

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right?

— You’re pretty.

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly.

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties.

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire.

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning.

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first.

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to.

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone, but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle.

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours.

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too.

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield?

— Stay still, ja?

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one.

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it.

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you.

— Stop, please…’s too much.

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better.

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster?

— Yes.

— Gut. Would break you in for me.

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure.

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass.

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity.

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think.

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides.

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore.

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy.

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils.

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream.

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb.

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you.

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips.

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted.

— Will you let me go?

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely.

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja?

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere

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cmoundiamante · 1 month

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MINISKIRT ✦ S.JY

OWN LITTLE P*RN STAR SPIN-OFF

DEDICATED TO my baby girl @hollyoongs ̩̩͙ ໋:

pairing professor!jake x afab!reader

summary Strict and handsome, those were the main adjectives that described Sim Jaeyun. He was quick to scold you if you did anything that went against the rules of his class, but his guilty taste could get you off the hook if you only attended to his needs.

genre smut. college!au, one shot

warnings age gap (sjy 37. reader 23), pet names (miss t/n, princess, darling, whore, slut, good girl, sunshine.), mean!jake in his professor role and when he gets mad, machist & possessive!jake (kinda), the reader’s bsf is the pornstar (duh), dirty talk, blowjob, facejob, cum eating, missionary, unprotected sex, mentions of smoke and pornography, recording videos.

a/n DID YOU GUYS MISS ME? i was absent due to personal problems, I didnt have too much inspiration to write either, but here is what u were waiting for the most 😙😙 english is not my first language so pls be kind (: any correction will be considered, not only to improve reading but also for my learning ^^ enjoy this

wc 12,2k

• this is a olps spin off, so if u didn't read it, i recommend u to do so, as in some scenes there are references to parts of my other os

1 - Respect the fulfillment of assignment deliveries in a timely manner, otherwise this will alter your report grade.

2 - Attend the class with clothing appropriate to the university context.

3 - Failure to attend classes does not excuse the fulfillment of assigned tasks.

4 - Do not attend class with any type of food or drink other than water, totally forbidden to consume food inside the classroom.

5 - The use of the cell phone is allowed only with didactic use, otherwise it will be removed by the rest of the class by the teacher.

You could swear you knew these rules by heart, but these were just a few of the many rules in the Teaching Contract that Sim Jake updated annually. Mr. Sim was your teacher from the moment you entered this university practically, because since you managed to get your scholarship there wasn't a year in which you had another literature professor, it was always him.

Your platonic love for him was fueled by trying to see him in your free time at university. Although he was a very kind man outside of school, working transformed him into a completely different person. Despite his good humour and his princely face he was a man who would not forgive you for an undone task, 50 cents on an exam, nor for breaking his rules that were in the 'light penalties' section.

Today you had completely forgotten Jake's rules again, if you thought about him, but not his damn rules. You were in math class with Professor Nishimura, who unlike Jake was much younger and much more open-minded, clearly ignored your outfit, barely noticing your presence. When he left, you were shaking with fear because you knew your world was falling apart. In the middle of the time change, you turned around to see your friend, who was a little amused watching you squirm in your chair.

"Take this." She took her jacket off her chair and handed it to you. "Cover your legs with this, I think they will catch his attention more than your shoulders." She said, referring to the white tank top you were wearing and the black miniskirt that decorated your prominent hips. Without looking back, you realized that he had arrived because the whole classroom had fallen silent. "Give it to me," you whispered, snatching her jacket out of your best friend's hands, then unzipping it and covering your thighs.

You arranged your hair and fixed your gaze on him, who was giving an overview of the course. The first thing he did at the beginning of each class was to walk between the desks to greet us and tell us how his day went, at the same time he made sure that everything was in order and that each of his students fulfilled the long list of "student commitments". The wind you felt when he passed by your left side gave you goosebumps and raised your body temperature, making the jacket that was between your legs already a nuisance.

Jake walked past you again, this time head-on and to your bad luck you both made eye contact, calling Jake to take a closer look at you, finding your disobedience in the set of clothes you were wearing. "Miss Y/N, can you put on your jacket, pretty please? You can't have these kinds of clothes in my class." His tone was so soft that you could do what he asked of you with no problem, but your bare legs could create an even bigger problem, but you listened to him.

You didn't know if you did it because you wanted him to see you, but you managed to get him to keep his gaze glued to your thighs for a couple of seconds. When you finished putting on your friend's jacket, Jake grabbed your shoulder and massaged it a little, when you looked at him you felt a little bad about the face he was giving you. "This will lower your concept grade." He kept walking behind you, then you kept looking at him and then gave your friend an alert glance. You were both outraged by that stupid rule, but you couldn't do anything about it so you both would just have to swallow your anger.

"Bullshit," your companion whispered. He had already scolded you and it was already certain that your grades would go down, so your friend extended her hand, implying that you should give her back her jacket, but you played dumb. "What?" you looked at her confused. "He already scolded you, give me back my jacket." "He touched it... Can I keep it?" To all this, you communicated in whispers, which luckily among the murmurs of the whole course could not be heard. "Yes, of course, as if you hadn't taken off all my clothes," she replied wryly.

"Please, when you come home I'll give you the clothes you want," you said, clasping your hands in pleading, knowing that your friend still wasn't convinced. "We don't even have similar styles." "Pretty please? If we ever drift apart, I want you to have something of mine as a souvenir." She laughed. "I'll probably burn it later." You sarcastically glared at her, whispering an almost inaudible 'you, bitch'. "Fiiiiine, keep it," she said in an even louder tone, yet you were happy to have acquired something that he had made tact with.

New day, new clothes.

This time you did have a reason to wear those kinds of clothes. When you opened your closet, you had found literally nothing. Some clothes you haven't worn in years, ripped dresses that your asshole ex-boyfriend had torn before he fucked you hard, t-shirts with horrific prints that you wore at a controversial time in your life. Among so much shit you could find a crop top and a denim miniskirt, that to hide the outfit you wore the same jacket from yesterday that you had taken from your best friend.

To all this, your only excuse was your laziness to put the clothes that were in the laundry basket into the washing machine. Even if you put your clothes into the washing machine at the same time you knew you made a mistake, you were still going to go through this again, because the humid temperature of the city did not cooperate to dry the clothes hanging out in time.

You tried to get the jacket to cover at least half of your thighs, but the attempt was stupid, since you were in class and soon to hide your flesh from the sight of that teacher, who would clearly soon catch your attention again. "Miss Y/N, again?" he lowered his head, as much as that was a bad sign you couldn't help but feel excited by that move he made. "I can explain..." Your answer took a while to formulate as you wanted to speak without stuttering. "Okay, we'll talk after class then. Is that okay with you?" you gulp, and with a lump tied in your throat you nodded. "And remember..." As he spoke, he moved away from you, exposing your mistake in front of the whole course. "Your grades."

Trying to delete that embarrassing scene from your mind, class had started and you had to focus on it. For today's class, Jake had asked a text to print and bring to that same class. "Well guys, I want to believe that most of you brought the text I asked for, is there anyone who didn't bring it?" No one raised their hand, but it was obvious that he were asking to find out who should be downgraded and who should not. Luckily you weren't one of that group, as you held the paper in your hands.

"Alright, the text we're going to read today is called 'Thoughts I Never Told You', it was written by Joanne Collins, have any of you ever read it or do you know what it's about?" some 'no' was heard in a very low tone to answer Jake's question. "It is a confession written from the writer's point of view that expresses the daily thoughts that a woman has when she falls in love." With his hands decorated with some rings, he grabbed the sheet with the writing. "Who wants to start reading?" one of your classmates raised his hand and Jaeyun gave him the pass to read.

From then on your attention diminished, just following the reading without being interested in what the text said. You imagined fictional scenarios, or you just watched Mr. Sim, who was paying attention to the reading, concentrating on his sheet, which you want to be you so that he would appreciate you in that way. You lowered your gaze and managed to see how his blue shirt had the sleeves rolled up, revealing the middle of his arm that was decorated by some veins that exalted his skin. The white T-shirt he wore could show off his collarbones perfectly. Remembering his rules, he could also be the one who gets a penalty for wearing clothes that heated you in that way.

You couldn't think much more because the moment you tried to look down, he found you appreciating him. "Y/N, your turn." Your body temperature rose as you heard your name come out of his mouth. Your hands were shaking and wouldn't cooperate in being able to properly grasp the sheet of paper, so you just rested it on your desk to avoid further embarrassment.

"Sometimes I wonder what you did to keep me so mesmerized. My fingers are tired, but they wouldn't endure a night without replacing your place, giving me that feeling I want you to give me but it's probably impossible for you to give it to me." He absolutely gave you the worst part. "My body is possessed and my lower part unties crystalline threads forced to leave consequences of everything I thought about you last night. Oh, believe me, I used to see you as such a nice guy, but after those events passing in front of you was a real grief, because I had created a perspective of you that no one was going to prove to me if it was true or not." Who did this remind you of? Yes, you.

You didn't feel Jake's presence so close to you, surprising you when you found him by your side. "C’mon, keep going." This man wanted to kill you.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, my heart is pumping a thousand times an hour, my voice is cracking and making sounds that even I can't understand, my legs are shaking, my mind is dizzy. I don't know what I should do to fulfill my fantasy, I don't know if I should just love you a little less, but the desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much…” You didn't know how to read what was coming. “…my crotch calls your name."

You wanted Jake not to be looking at you and you had let yourself get carried away in the reading, never mind that some of your classmates laughed because they couldn't handle their immaturity. "Kayla, can you please keep reading?" Jake thankfully moved away from you, although you felt the temperature change because having him by your side kept you warm, the cold wind breeze made you get goosebumps.

The reading lasted the entire hour, but the class was over, indicating that it was time to talk to Jake alone. "For the next class we will do a question activity that will go into the exam, so if it’s necessary read the text again." At the end of the sentence, the bell rang indicating the time change.

"Wait for you at the exit." As you started putting your things in your backpack, you heard your friend said that behind you. Without waiting for a response from you, she withdrew with her classmates. From your desk you watched him very carefully, detecting every movement. As everyone left the classroom, he found himself closing the blinds on the windows that reflected the hallways, giving you hints that this was going to get weird. When no student was left in the classroom, only you, he closed the door.

"Come here." he sat down in his seat, manspreading, in front of his desk, which still had some of his belongings on top of it. He took off his glasses, taking that to mean that he had let you see a more youthful part of him, since although he was a man of almost 40 years old, he kept up quite well for his age.

"Explain yourself, why that kind of clothes again?" he grabbed a silk scarf and began to clean the lenses of his glasses, paying more attention to them being free of any stains than to your presence. "Well, I've had some problems with the washing machine this week and all the clothes that… cover me the most are dirty."

"Can't you borrow clothes from your friends like you did yesterday?" were you a little surprised with the advice he gave you, had he really heard everything? "Yes... But I don't understand what's wrong with the clothes." he raised his head to look you in the eye, making you feel small in front of him.

"In a school context it's not okay to dress the way you do, miss, for some reason it's in the pedagogical contract, isn't it?" you nodded. You folded your arms to try to cover yourself because of the embarrassment you had acquired from how he was talking to you, he really looked angry. "Also, personally, it's too distracting for me."

Did he really say it? Did you hear that right? Is it the same strict and innocent teacher you've had for years? Yes, he was. You were too stunned to speak. It wasn't in your plans to respond to him and he noticed, so he continued to tease you, putting on his glasses and again standing up to surround you.

"You know how I am, a perfectionist guy, I don't like not to be focused and have my classes go wrong." Jake used to speak in a very loud voice when talking in class, but when he whispered low in your ear you couldn't resist starting to melt, and not metaphorically, because a patch of moisture started to mark on your panties. "Mr. Sim..."

"Call me Jake... You don't want that either, do you?" he interrupted, making a gap of time between sentences. "No," you replied submissively, thinking that something else might happen. "Then start wearing more appropriate clothes or I'll have to rip these clothes off of you on my own. If you want to be half-naked in my class, that's how you will be." He acted naturally, as if it was normal what he had told you, he just walked away from you and started putting his stuff in his briefcase. "You can go." he ended the conversation, unaware that he had stunned you in front of him.

You quickly grabbed your backpack, and with quick steps you walked out of the classroom, slamming the door. He didn't know what was causing you, he wasn't aware of what he was doing to you.

You were really going to need a good fingering session when you got home.

His phrase was repeated in your mind over and over again, to the point of not letting you sleep. It was 5 A.M. and you kept imagining how your miniskirt was torn by him, how his fingers buried themselves in your skin leaving marks that couldn't disappear for days, his dick pushing inside you fitting perfectly to his thickness.

The fingering session was already done, but were you going to be able to look him in the eye after what happened? Of Course not.

Sleeping late paid off when you woke up at 2 p.m., clearly realizing you missed college. When you grabbed your cell phone from the bedside table, the first thing that popped on the screen were the thousands of messages from your best friend, who when you saw everything she sent you you could be a spectator of all her mood swings when she saw that you were not there. From despair to resignation.

you: im alright girl, ive jst fallen asleep

You didn't really have to do anything during the day, so you just had to decide between two options. One, lying in bed all day watching series and worrying about getting a good night's sleep. Or two, take care of your house, clean up, restock your cupboards and fridge, call someone to fix your washing machine. As the first option sounded tempting, the second was an obligation, so whether you wanted to or not you had to fulfill it.

Suddenly, your house was shiny. You took the whole afternoon to leave every space in your home aesthetically pleasing. Now it was time to go to the supermarket, since your cupboards were completely empty and you were feeding yourself on deliveries.

"Everything was easier when I lived with Mom." you said to yourself. You made the grocery list as you wandered around the kitchen, seeing what was missing and what wasn't. When you were done, you put the small sheet of paper in your pocket and left your house, ready to walk the 10 blocks to the supermarket.

You had the option of calling a taxi, or even taking the bus, but you just had more fun walking and enjoying the view of the streets of your city. Regretting the outfit you had decided to go out with, the wind hit harder and it started to cool down, but you weren't going to be embarrassed on the street so you just hid, trying not to tremble even though your legs showed goosebumps.

A familiar voice rang in your ears as you waited for the traffic light to change, it was in front of you. "Miss Y/N?" Shit, it was him. "Hello, Mr. Sim." he was inside his car, clearly waiting for the traffic light to change. "What are you doing?" his poker face was indispensable to you, it seems like forgetting everything he said to you yesterday, when you couldn't get that out of your mind. "Just gonna buy some stuff." You tried to talk as little as possible. "Do you want me to give you a ride to the market?"

"No, thank you very much, you don't have to." you shook your head with a smile, respecting the elder. "Don’t worry about it, please get in." Even though yesterday's embarrassment was still intact, you were already inside his car, and luckily he kept an eye on making sure the atmosphere was pleasant. "You missed classes today, didn't you?" the conversation began, without taking his eyes off the route.

"How do you know?" your gaze went from the window to seeing his face draw a smirk. "I didn't see you all day, plus I had to talk to your friend about the assignments she didn't turn in and she told me you hadn't come." You smiled a little at his concern, however you didn't hesitate to make a joke. "Pretty sure it was for you to scold me for the clothes I wore."

"What happened yesterday..." He clearly realized the mistake he made, and you decided to behave just like him. "Explain yourself." his face changed completely, but honestly it wasn't that you were paying attention to, it was his hands gripping the steering wheel. "It wasn't appropriate, I got angry, I'm so sorry." Even though you weren't looking at him, you could feel his eyes staring at you, showing that he was serious. But no, you couldn't forgive him when you loved what he had told you.

"Exactly, for the school context it wasn't appropriate..." He was silent. "But I don't know why you apologize when I've never told you that I was upset by what you told me."

"Isn't that comment I made offensive to a woman?" You were very close to the market, alarming you that you had to stop talking to him, but you didn't want that. "I don't remember what you told me, would you remind me?" he shook his head, parking the car in front of the market waiting for you to get out. "Come on, I'll wait for you here until you're done."

"Mr. Sim, you don't ha-" "Jake." he interrupted. "Jake, you don't have to." you insisted, to make sure that when you get home you can have the same routine you had yesterday. "I'm not going to let you go alone." Well, you admitted, it sounded cute, it made your cheeks a little red, your blood boil, and your core moist, but only a little bit.

Anyway, you got out of the car and took the list of products out of the pocket of your jacket, again the same jacket you wore for three consecutive days, because something you loved to be was outfit repeater. You needed milk, cereal, yogurt, fruit, meat, and some other things that were on the supermarket shelves. Luckily it didn't take you more than 20 minutes to grab everything and go to the checkout, where they also did everything very quickly.

You had filled two bags, which you put in the back seats of Jake's car, and then returned to your seat. "You did it fast." he had been a little startled to see you arrive again, since his attention was exclusively on his cell phone. "Yeah, I didn't want to make you wait long." He put his cell phone in his pants pocket and started the car again. "I already told you I don't care, princess." Him talking to you casually and calling you 'princess', this was your chance to start picking up those hints and returning them to him.

"I don't have to do anything now, so I can be your personal chauffeur if you want." His request didn't sound bad, but it's not like you had to do anything on a thursday afternoon. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" you shook your head, always maintaining eye contact with him. "Then let's go home." He looked at the traffic light, which turned the light green and sped up his speed. "My house?" you asked, confused by what he meant by home, to which he simply laughed. "Not your house, my house."

"For what?" was a forced but discreet invitation. "I hang out with quite a few of my students sometimes." Ouch, that meant you weren't the only one. "And it would be interesting to talk with you in my living room."

Jake got out of the car and opened your door for you to get out of the car. He lived in a building, that if you looked up it was impossible to count the number of floors it had. It already looked luxurious, but when you went to the lobby your theories that this man had a lot of money were nothing short of being true. You both got into the elevator and he pressed button number 15. You looked in the elevator mirrors to see if your makeup had smudged or if there was any imperfection on your face, and at some point you felt like Jake was giving you little glimpses.

When you left, in front of the elevator was his apartment. He took the keys out of his pants pocket and opened the door, letting you see one of his most intimate things, his home. It was quite modern inside, but you wondered if he had any special rooms in which he kept books, as any literature professor would. You started hearing footsteps in the distance, and you were terrified, until Jake said: "Layla!"

A rather large dog appeared in your field of view, overjoyed at the arrival of her owner. Jake bent down to pet her as the blonde dog licked his face to welcome him into her home. You found the scene very tender. "Come on, welcome to Y/N." he patted his tail and stood up, meanwhile he began to get rid of all the excess clothes he had, leaving only a white shirt. Then you paid attention to the dog, who was in front of you wagging her tail from side to side, finally you imitated Jake, bending down to pet her as well.

"Hey girl." she stuck out her tongue but unlike her owner, she didn't lick you. You ran one of your hands over her head and smiled as she closed her eyes to enjoy your cuddles. "Such a beautiful girl." Then you got up and looked at your teacher, who was with his arms crossed enjoying the scene reflected through his glasses.

"Do you like wine?" his question took you by surprise. "Not at all, why?" you confessed. You weren't a big fan of alcohol in general, but the scene you had in your head about what could happen tonight was something you didn't know if you could do sober, so wine could help. "I see." He started to walk and you just stood there watching him as he left, not feeling your presence near him he looked at you and made a gesture for you to follow him, so you obeyed.

His kitchen was immense, you could say it was a bit useless to have such a house when he spent more time in college than in his own home, but you weren't going to judge because he could do whatever he wanted with his money. The place had two doors, maybe you thought it could be a pantry, but two? "I have variety, some are soft, maybe you'll like them." Well, you were wrong, it wasn't a pantry, it was a winery. He opened the tinted glass door and turned on the light. The space was small, but the brown color of the shelves that held the bottles could make the space look a little more open.

"You can tell that you really like wine." Your comment made him smile. "Actually, before I started working in schools I was a sommelier." he told you, blowing your mind with his confession, you definitely needed to know more. "It's a pretty fine profession." you said, watching as Jake began to look at the bottles, occasionally grabbing one to see its brand. "What would you like to start with?"

"Choose for me, have no idea about wines." He grabbed two bottles and then both of you walked out of the cellar. In the middle of the kitchen he had a table made of marble, on which he rested the two wines and a glass. You sat and watched him uncork the wine, how his hands were so agile to have the cork in his hands in such a short time and serve you the wine in the glass in such a professional way. "What's this?"

"Oliver, Sweet red lime." handed you the cup. "It's made by concord grapes, it's pretty smooth so you'll probably taste like grape juice." You smelled a little bit of its essence, it didn't smell that bad but you did smell the smell of alcohol. "I've never drunk alcohol before." Jake laughed. "Then you would feel the alcohol." You kept pretending to take a sip. "Aren’t you gonna drink?” the cup brushed your lips, very close to the liquid touching your tongue. "Would you feel safer if I drink with you?" you nodded your head and smiled behind him as he got up from his chair to fetch another drink. When he returned, he poured himself some wine and held his glass to yours.

“Cheers” The glasses collided with each other, giving you the confidence to take the first sip, the second as well, and well... also the third. He looked at you attentively at your expressions, clearly to see if the wine had been to your taste, but you didn't pay attention to it when you finally had it looking at you as he did at the insignificant materials that had concentrated him. "What do you think?" you cleared your throat, in which the bitter taste of alcohol clearly stuck to it. "I thought it was going to be smoother, I felt the alcohol a lot."

"Do you want to try the other one?" "Let's go.", as much as you didn't like it, you took the last sip you had left to empty the glass. Jake repeated the same steps as the previous one when he opened it and again gave you the cup, and then poured himself into his glass. "This one is Purple Toad, it's quite similar to the other one but it has a particular flavor, if you guess what it is you have a prize."

“What kind of prize?” without waiting for you, Jake had already taken a sip. "You'll see later." You rolled your eyes and drank the wine, this one being much friendlier in taste. "I like this one better. It's smooth, the alcohol feels less." "Can you guess what it tastes like besides grape?" You took the last sip of the wine and stared at the glass for a few seconds, or at least until your taste buds guess the taste camouflaged in this liquid. "Blueberries maybe." "You're a pretty smart girl sometimes."

"Sometimes? Alright, what's my prize?" you felt a sexual tension in the air, but at the same time you thought you were exaggerating since you found it very difficult to fulfill your fantasies at this time of year. "Do you remember the text we read yesterday?" Your smile melted as you saw how he changed the subject so quickly. You nodded your head and without asking he grabbed your glass again to put some more wine in it, you agreed and went back to drinking some. "I felt embarrassed having to read that part in front of everyone.” you confessed, trying to sound like a claim. "You didn't look embarrassed, you narrated it pretty well." "Did I narrate it right?"

"It felt good to hear it come out of your mouth." Being a literature teacher, his vocabulary must be much more extensive and he would use words correctly and directly. But this left you even more confused. "Jake..." "You were thinking about me as you read it, weren't you?"

Should you get into him? Should you tell him everything you fantasized about or the times you sinned thinking about him? as your fingers worked hard to satisfy you from the uncontrollable desire trying to replace him. It was always him, which also didn't give you time to think about the consequences of that decision.

Jake dared to look at you after a while, you did the same. His eyes shone through a lustful gaze, as if you were the mouse and he was the wolf. "You're very obvious, did you know that?" You didn't like his game at all, you got up from your chair and started walking out of the kitchen, although since the apartment was very large you didn't remember well where you had to get out.

"Where are you going?" You didn't realize that Jake had followed you into the living room. "I can't stand people teasing me." Since he was behind you, it was easy to chain his arm around your waist preventing you from escaping, at the same time laughing at you very close to your ear. "You've got a lot of character, huh. I'll stop teasing you if you let me make you feel good." You stopped forging to break free of his grip and waited for him to keep talking, looking at him through your shoulder.

"How?" He felt how your body was relieved, the hand that was on your waist was tracing invisible patterns on your skin, which was destined for your pelvis. "Do you remember the text? 'The desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much my crotch calls your name.'" His voice kept having side effects on you, creating goosebumps for the fresh mint on his breath. "Do you think my crotch calls your name?"

"I'm not just a literature professor and a retired sommelier, darling. I know a lot about body language." You definitely liked smart men, this was turning into something else and you were enjoying it so bad. "So if I have your consent..." "Yes." you interrupted him in desperation. "Yes?" you couldn't stand being behind him and having to continue to endure his scent without being able to see him, so you turned around, raised your head to be able to look him in the eyes despite the height differences. “You have my consent.”

As much as your hands ran down his neck, he reacted much faster, placing his hands on both of your thighs and lifting you, without even applying force, looking like you were a light bag of feathers.

The first kiss you had with him felt magical, an experience never experienced before. While the guys you kissed at parties didn't do too badly. Instead, Jake, an older, experienced man, you knew he could make you feel better, that he did it better. The second kiss was passionate. It had that spark that the first one didn't have, making you surrender at his feet more than you already were. And finally, the third one, he made you understand why you were like this for him. So high by physical and sexual attraction that you suddenly felt that his lips didn't need to be on yours, but on another part of your body where the attention needed was stronger.

You didn't understand when you both entered his room. He slammed the door and with clumsy steps made his way to the bed, where he deposited your body, which was not so far from nakedness. Crop top, shorts, that stupid jacket, all very accessible so that in less than five minutes Jake has you at his disposal.

Both of you broke away from the kiss and started paying attention to each other. He took some time to look at your needy face, especially your pink cheeks, your physical build, your hair that slowly began to tousle as the action increased. On the other hand, you paid attention to his foggy glasses, his lips soaked with a thin layer of his mixed saliva, how part of his chest showed through the opening of his shirt, and above all, his hands. They were your favorite and visible part of his body. Long fingers, knuckles with a pink smudge that you loved, a good shape and above all the veins that decorated it.

You grabbed one of them and began to adore its torso. "Such veiny hands." your comment did not go unnoticed by Jake, who knew perfectly well in what sense it was going. The same hand you were holding went straight to your neck, not squeezing it, just decorating it as if it were a necklace. "Do you like veiny hands?" you nodded your head as best you could, as his hand was immobilizing you a bit, but you didn't complain. "It just makes me wonder if your dick is as veiny as your hands."

"We haven't even started and you're already thinking about my cock? You, dirty whore." Deep down you knew he liked your comment, just as you liked him calling you a whore. You'd let him degrade you and call you out in every way possible to make you his. "It's not the first time I've done it, anyway." Jake forced his hand on your neck and brought your face a little closer to attack him again with that kissing combo he had prepared for you.

Your hands lightly touched the buttons of his shirt, not at all ready to unbutton them, however soon you lost the embarrassment and his shirt was completely open, leaving his torso exposed and the necklace that decorated his body was released, slowly touching your collarbones while you panted on his lips when you felt the cold of the metal.

The hand that was on your neck, traced a line down the middle of your body, slowly going down towards the end of your crop top, which Jake didn't pull out but did lift it. "No bra, that’s why your nipples were visible." His thumb went straight to your mouth to lubricate and he began massaging your left nipple in circles, which soon became sensitized and hard. "It's what dirty whores do, isn't it?" again he pressed your lips to his to shut you up, forcing your tongue to rub against his.

Jake stood up and finished taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in his room, at the same time unzipping his pants as well. You watched him attentively to his movements, enjoying it as if it were a striptease, but he was not the only one who was undressing, since in a quick movement your boobs were exposed to him, who although he was busy doing something else could not help but bite his lip when he finally saw beyond your body.

Already bare-chested, he lunged back at you without dropping his full weight, tactically catching your lips again. "This is what you do with your students when you hang out with them?" as he interrupted each word, he gasped on your lips, and the sound was so delicious that you didn't need to hear it much longer to feel your folds brush against the cold, wet fabric of your panty. "Not really." didn't sound confident, but he didn't stop the physical contact. "Many of the students I hanged out were attracted to me, but none were as fortunate as you to be in your shoes." You understood his need to make you jealous, but as much as you wanted to ask him thousands of questions about those students, you simply gave him a smile.

The talk that had flowed in between the kisses caused Jake to despair, not realizing that when you kissed him again he was simply in boxers. It was melange gray, and you wanted to believe that he had put it on purpose to mark his bulge, which by the way, you thought was impossible for him to enter through your hole.

You didn't want to look desperate, so you began a trip of rubbing that started with his collarbones, ran all over his chest and abdomen, his pelvis was not missing and finally, the part you were desperate to touch. His massive dressed cock. Jake didn't push your touch away but your lips did, pulling his head back. "I barely touched it." you tease him. To contradict yourself, you wrapped your palm around his dick, unable to fully grip him because his boxers avoided gripping. "You're touching it too much right now."

From Jake's mouth came faint puffs of air and sounds that were inaudible but only your receptive core understood. "Can I ask you something?" his voice sounded so good when he was agitated. You nodded, waiting for him to speak. "Have you ever done a facejob?" you were left on the bed processing his question. You didn't know what it was until you understood why its name, handJOB, blowJOB...

"No, but I can try." You couldn't see his reaction because at the same time your eyes went to his boxers, which were no longer a hindrance and a block to see his cock. "So pretty and so willing." You were really amazed at how beautiful it was visually. His tip was pink and it was moistened by precum, you swore it could have the same texture as his lips.

"What should I do?" you asked. "Spit," Jake ordered, putting the palm of his hand in front of your mouth, you let out a spit that he used to lubricate its length. "Just close your eyes, or don't do it, the way you want, unless you want to get conjunctivitis."

"Have you done it before?" he nodded, "May I know with who?" he tugged at his member gently, grabbed your face, appreciating your doggy eyes, which for some reason made him shudder. "I don't see the need to make the environment uncomfortable by answering that question." Even though he was self-stimulating, his voice was firm and thick, not like it had been a while ago. As time went by, you became aware of his many facets.

"I don’t mind to know, just curious." His hand went down to your neck to handle you more easily. "My ex-wife." “Did she like it?" he shook his head "We tried it once and she thought it didn't feel right so it wasn't repeated, but I held out for several years without a facejob." He was dying of urgency and his face showed it, so you grabbed the hand that was pumping his dick and brought it close to your face. "Let me make you feel good then."

You lay on your back and Jake stood on top of you, exactly right next to your face. He patted his dick on your face a couple of times, unexpectedly his hand grabbed the entirety of your face, warning you to close your eyes. He kept his member clinging to your features, soaking them and keeping a gentle rhythm for the time being.

Jake, even though his head was pulled back, his eyes were still riveted on you. He let out a few giggles camouflaged with gasps because of how tender you looked trying to open your mouth to stick out your tongue and take care of the lower part of his neck. He had to capture that image, and he couldn't do it just in that moment, he needed it forever.

His pants were very close to him, so when he saw them accessible he moved his body a bit, not enough to stop pleasing himself on you but to grab his pants, where his cell phone was in his pocket. "Are you okay with me filming you?" He would talk to you while you were under him, you could barely talk but you managed to be able to answer him. "If you promise to do nothing wrong with that video." With just a few taps to the screen, he opened the camera, focusing on your face and tapping the button to start the video.

He kept expelling precum from his tip, depositing every drop on your face. You had been grateful that he had advised you to close your eyes, otherwise you might have thrown a tantrum because you felt your eyes burn. He grunted under his breath, enjoying what he couldn't in so many years.

From time to time you would open your mouth in an attempt to catch his cock with your tongue, but it was simply useless because he tried his best not to let you, even though your desperation captivated him, turning your desires into commands. His hand stopped pressing against your face and finally pulled its length into your mouth.

As you were still underneath him, there was very little ability to move that you had, but it wasn't impossible, you were optimistic and it was too hot a time for you to give up on doing something so quickly. You moved your neck back and forth trying to get your throat used to his length so you could take it all, but you were right when you thought it wasn't going to fit in your mouth.

Jake pulled it out of your mouth and started jerking it off with his hand, returning it back to the starting position they had. "You don't have to take it all if you can't." His cell phone was still in his hands, but it wasn't pointed at you. "I've taken bigger dicks." you lied, you tried to make him jealous. His was definitely the biggest you'd ever experimented with. "I just haven't fucked in months." brushed his tip over your lips. The fluids between the two of you were enough to make this scene the most disgusting you've ever seen and his member easily enter your oral cavity again.

He cut the video, throwing his cell phone to the side of the bed, and with that same hand he grabbed your head tightly over your hair to finally be able to cum in your mouth, which if it wasn't for his composure, he could not have tolerated it and would have already cum within five seconds of you having let yourself be fucked by your mouth.

Which he did, because he couldn't stand it any longer, painting your whole throat with his load. Jake grunted under his breath, growing weak because his body was shaking like jelly. Jake's face was close to yours, and you grabbed him and pulled him closer, connecting to each other with a kiss mixed with saliva and his own cum, which he clearly didn't reject.

His hand went over your anatomy again even though his mouth is close to yours. His fingers found the seam of your shorts, which soon came down at the same time as your panties. Both pieces of clothing fell to the floor, now leaving you completely exposed, unconsciously brushing his tip on your clit, which soon slipped due to the humidity that invaded it.

"Please do something?" you asked, feeling overwhelmed by every touch he gave you. "Jake I need you so much, please stop torturing me." Jake put a smile on his face just hearing your words, then he played with you by smashing his huge cock against your tense and sensitive pussy.

"What do you want?" he asked. "If you don't use words, I'll stop here." You began to gasp as you shook your head from side to side. "No, no, please." "Tell me what you want, baby girl." You thought twice about your words before opening your mouth to avoid stuttering. "Please, fuck me." your faces were so close that you could still smell the grapes and alcohol that his mouths expelled. "Make me yours."

"You were mine a long time ago." That phrase was sensual enough to captivate you again and attack his lips in response, at the same time you felt how the space of your entrance was replaced by his length. A sudden moan vibrated between the lips of the two of you, but unfortunately his dick didn't go all in at once.

"You're going to take it all," you nodded desperately, gasping for breath as his cock moved and filled you completely. But no matter how small your hole is, you couldn't refuse his requests, you had to do what he told you and get your pretty pussy used to his size. One of his hands met one of your breasts by surprise, causing your nipples to stiffen no matter how hot Jake's hand was.

"Jake.." you groaned, not knowing that you were causing him crazy by talking to him like that. You were so lubricated by your natural fluids that it became easy for Jake to move inside you, and in turn bury himself deeper into you, finally making his entire member occupy your cunt. "Just like that.. Fuck."

You threw your head back when you bit your lip, but it was in vain, for every thrust caused countless incoherent gasps to come out of your mouth. He still didn't do it to the point of making you scream and cry, even though he looked like he fucked like that. It was still a pleasant pain, but never experienced before.

"You can tell you're enjoying this." Your eyes rolled back as I increased the speed. Out of inertia, your hand grabbed the arm with which it was held so as not to drop all his weight on top of you, squeezing his bare muscle leaving your nails marked. "Fuck yeah." you couldn't stop squealing and you really felt on the edge, Jake had noticed it by how your walls squeezed him, making him very close to painting your gummy walls white as well.

The force he applied gradually became more abrupt, although, actually it wasn't necessary to make you hot, as his entire presence made you blush and drip. "How much did you want this?" growled Jake over you. The thrusts continued at his pace, but it seemed to you that it was something you could no longer contain.

He finally did. He brought all of its length into you.

"A lot." incomprehensible. "I don't hear you, pretty. Say it again," he ordered. His other hand went to your naked clitoris, which was hard and tender from the heat you had picked up since you arrived at his house. "I've waited a long time for this." Jake couldn't stand much either, because the movements of his hand were silly and he kept fucking you like a fucking beast.

You didn't help him much either by moaning at him how much you wanted him. Your body trembles, your mind becomes dizzy, it is impossible to speak or do anything in this state of madness, so finally his hand was covered by a glowing layer of poisonous lust. The humidity helped him to make his movements frequent, the heat of your cave made him finally discharge inside you.

When he came out of you, you were finally able to take the first breath of air so that you could regulate yourself. Jake kept his gaze on your shiny pussy, which for some reason was acting in the same way you did, expelling from your hole what Jake had left inside.

You threw your head back and stopped feeling tense, closed your eyes and discovered what calm was. "How do you feel?" you kept your eyes closed but you felt the mattress sink next to you, letting you know that Jake had lied down with you. "Did you like it?" you shuddered to feel him so close to your ear, but it also made you laugh.

"It felt really good Jake" you opened your eyes to see him. He was sweating, that shiny layer that abounded on his face premonished more on his lips, making them look more pompous. And of course, more kissable. "This will make you forgive me for wearing miniskirts?"

Apparently you know how to manifest or something like that, but Sim's lips again connected with yours. "You know I love your miniskirts." He said between kisses. "Why do you get angry when I wear them?" "I don't want people to see you dressed like that." He stopped kissing for a second to get a good look at you closely. "If you come here, I don't have a problem with you to wear them." You laughed at his jealousy scene.

"But I want you to know that will still lower your grades." He got out of bed and started looking for his boxers. You tried not to laugh when you saw that he still a little bit hard, feeling dirty about it. "Jake, come on.” You leaned on your arms and watched Jake as he put on his boxers. "When you learn to dress properly, I will forgive you. Now, ass up sunshine, let's go to sleep."

You woke up early, so early that you could find Jake still sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped around your entire body, and the force he exerted on you made it impossible for you to break free from his grip. You managed to pull out an arm, which you used to grab your cell phone and see the time, 5:30 A.M.

When you were finally able to get out of bed, you get dressed again, making sure you didn't make too much noise so you wouldn't wake him up. You saw him for the last time, appreciating how he pouted as he let out little snores, thinking he looked very cute that way.

You ran away from his department, thankful he didn't notice. When you left the apartment you felt that it was still night, as it was dark and there was absolutely no one roaming the streets at that time. Then you remembered that you had both come here by car, and you realized that your house was too far away to walk alone, so you simply asked for an uber.

The minutes passed, you had already checked instagram, tiktok, twitter, snapchat, and still the cell phone bored you, all because the damn uber didn't arrive. 6 A.M., at this point you imagined that Jake had already woken up and realized that you had practically disappeared, you had also realized that you were already late for college, since at this time you were about to leave your house to catch the bus.

Fortunately, as the sun reappeared, the uber teleported in front of you as if by magic trick. You opened the door and without greeting the driver told him your home address and handed him some bills, no matter the cost.

You rushed out of the car, already prepared with the keys in hand to open the door and close it behind you, not worrying about locking it again. You were thankful that you could live alone, because the noise you were making was something your parents couldn't stand. You undressed and grabbed the first pieces of clothing you saw, you didn't really care anymore if it was provocative clothes or not, you just wanted to wear something suitable for college.

You went to the bathroom and tied your hair up to grab a makeup remover towel and start pulling out the tears with mascara that had left traces of what happened last night, while you were rushing to leave your face clean, you couldn't help but smile a little from the flashbacks. As much as your face had turned red from the force with which you rubbed your face, you didn't care, with the ponytail and your face fresh, you grabbed your backpack and left your house, this time remembering to close the door properly.

You were walking fast to get to the bus stop, which just got there and parked to let some people in. You paid for your ticket and found a window seat to sit on, which is where you left off for the rest of the trip.

You had a two-hour trip to college, so you decided to lay your head on the glass and sleep. The silence of the people showed that they were in the same situation as you, just woken up, not wanting to talk, not wanting to work, not wanting to do anything, so on the other hand you were grateful for the peace to be able to concentrate on being able to coincide with the dream.

The sun's rays went straight into your eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that woke you up, it was also the realization that you had to be on time for your classes. You turned on your phone and panicked. 7:50, you had only ten minutes. You clutched your head in frustration, trying not to rip it off, metaphorically.

In the midst of the desperation to get there early, your best friend sent you a message.

bitch🪽: bitch, where the fuck are u now?

you: IM OMW

you: i just woke up, i wasn't home and i fell asleep late last night

bitch🪽:where have u been?

you: …

you: wait for me to get there

You thought the bus driver would do everything he could so you didn't make it to your first class.

When you arrived in the classroom, Jake's disapproving look on you was something you couldn't help but feel intimidated by, even knowing that you had left him completely alone after everything that had happened last night. "Did you see the time, miss?" You shrugged your arms melting in shame. "My apologies, sir." Jake kept looking at you, but you broke eye contact to go sit in your seat. You did your best to get your things ready and then turn to look at your friend. "I did something wrong yesterday." Her face showed confusion. "But I don't regret about anything."

"What? Did you kill someone?" the way she exaggerated made you shake your head. "Bitch, you didn't tell me anything, what have you done?" you looked sideways, not only paying attention to your classmates, but particularly to the teacher, who for the moment, was not looking at you, feeling relieved. "Professor Sim." your friend's face changed flatly, "Girl, don't tell me that-" "I slept with him." She opened her mouth, but you didn't know exactly if her face showed happiness, surprise, or disapproval of sleeping with someone twice your age. "If I could do it, so could you."

"Nah, he's yours, thank you so much for the offer anyway." "Who told you it was going to be with Jake?" you didn't realize that you raised your voice, catching some glances from your classmates, who were just looking at you like a weirdo. You didn't realize it, but you were hoping that someone didn't listen to you. "I've seen you look at Professor Park during class," you whispered and smirked. "You eat his bulge with your eyes."

Your partner laughed a little. "Maybe... Anyway, it's just an erotic desire." The two of you were shameless to talk about these kinds of topics in public, but you were both willing to break the taboo. "If I were him I'd fuck you, you're too sexy just to exist." The wry compliment you said served to turn his cheeks red. "You flatter me."

"Okay, speaking about Sunghoon, how are you doing with your studies?" You saw her take her stuff out of her backpack while you talked to her, so you took it as advice and started doing the same thing before class started. "I have it under control, but I have a question about some concept." "You already have an excuse to go see him today." You recommended her, knowing full well that he would do it later. Jake's voice echoed throughout the classroom, creating goosebumps, when you turned to pay attention to his class, you were slowly melting in your seat because of how his eyes looked at you, you felt like daggers were coming out of them and they were digging into your skin, because something you knew, It's just that wasn't a look from someone who's happy.

You'd reaffirm it to yourself mentally, you were fucked up.

"How many questions will your exam have?" It was the beginning of the week, while Sunghoon was with his computer corroborating some excels, Jake was near the window facing the outside, smoking a cigarette. "Ten." The atmosphere was quiet despite how Park pressed the keyboard. "There will be seven development questions and three activities." "Can I see?" Jake took his last puff on his cigarette and then threw it out the window, so that it would fall, only God knows where. He walked over to where Sunghoon was centered and lowered his torso slightly so that he could properly see the questions.

What Sunghoon had shown him was a Google docs, and Sim inadvertently diverted his gaze to the bar of pages that Sunghoon had open. "Daddy cums harder... Pussy squirting..." As Jake continued reading, Sunghoon closed the window, showing only the excel presentation, despite his poker face Jake knew him well enough to know he was embarrassed. "I can't believe you have those pages open when you're working."

"It's none of your business, Sim." Jake smiled as he saw Sunghoon's face turn red, it seems like they never had this kind of conversation. "You know I watched that video what you recommended me." Jake moved the chair next to Sunghoon, sitting up and spreading his legs to get into a comfortable position. "What are you talking about?" Sunghoon's eyes were protected by the lenses of his glasses, which did not detach from the screen, but one of his skills was multitasking. "SluttyMila... Did you see her last video?" Jake managed to stop this from being so, Sunghoon's eyes quickly moved to Jake's figure upon hearing that name.

"No, why?" As he waited for Sim's response, his fingers worked on the computer to open google again and search for the Pornhub account. "It's impossible that you didn't watch it, if it became viral." When he opened the page he found the thumbnail in which he was a participant, he tried not to smile at this so he just licked his lips. "It's fucking insane, you have to watch it." Looking at the statistics, he understood what Jake meant.

48M views. 368,7k Likes. 42k Comments.

"I'll watch it when I get home." He was definitely going to do it. It doesn't matter that he starred in it, that he was there to live it, he needed to see that moment from the perspective of an observer. However, it was work time, even though he had been carried away by lust several times, his co-worker was there with him, although he knew him too well to know what was so morbid that perhaps he would be able to jerk off with him in college.

"Do you have to teach later?" Jake shook his head, staring at the ceiling. "I have an hour to spare, I think I'll be left alone scheduling the next class for course C." Jake got up from his chair to go get his briefcase, which when he opened it took out one of the perfumes he carried everywhere, Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay, to cover up the smell of tobacco that had permeated his clothes. "What about you?" Sunghoon's response was immediate, turning off the computer and putting it in his briefcase, then getting up from his chair and heading for the door. "Course A." Exactly, your course.

Sunghoon said goodbye to Jake, leaving him completely alone in the professors room. He had nothing to do, so he simply spent some of his time looking out the window, to the school corridors, until he saw some students loitering. He got up from his seat and opened the door, looking in the direction of both boys, who were astonished to see Jaeyun in the doorframe, characteristically not at his best.

"Don't you have a class to attend, guys?" his voice demanded authority from the frightened looks of both guys. "Y-yes.. I'm sorry," one of them replied. "What's your course?" asked Sim. The guys looked at each other as if to say 'we're fucked up'. "Course B." Without having to say a word, Jake watched the young people vanish from his sight, but the presence of another figure walked in front of him, recognizing who it was and forcing her by his arm into the professors room.

He wasn't aware of the force he applied to your arm, causing you to complain a bit about the pain it had caused. "Jake, that hurt." "Why have you been ignoring me since Wednesday?" he asked authoritatively. Since Jake had treated and looked at you that day, you hadn't liked him at all, even though you knew it was partly your fault for leaving him alone that morning, but you didn't want to face him again. "I'm so sorry, I'm just..." interrupted you. "Give me a reason to know why you left me alone." You had a hot face with embarrassment, staring at the floor tiles because you couldn't look him in the eye, so he just grabbed you by the chin, not putting much force like he did when he grabbed your arm, and forced you to look at him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" it was in vain what he did, for likewise your dilated pupils remained over the buttons of his shirt. "You don't..." "Then tell me why." "I was embarrassed of what I did." You swallowed hard for lying to him, knowing inwardly that you didn't know why you had done it. "Embarrassed of what?" Jake's hands let you go, now moving away from you to leave you standing trembling as he enjoyed it from a different point of view. "Maybe because not every day I sleep with someone 14 years older than me." to Jake's ears your answer was believable, taking him by surprise because he was also smart enough to know your body language.

"You're a young lady, that doesn't take away from the fact that you're an adult." Jake grabbed the chair he had previously sat in and rested his ass on it again. You watched him move through space, standing still at the only point where you felt comfortable at the time. "Why don't you come here and apologize? You must be mature enough to accept your mistakes." Little by little you moved, around the table and in front of him, keeping your eyes down to look him in the eye. "How can I get you to forgive me?" "Get on your knees." your knees made contact with the floor, however it didn't hurt as much because they were padded by your jeans.

"Wanna know something?" you spoke, as Jake's hand caressed your cheek. "I felt bad about how you looked at me the other day." Jake chuckle underneath, letting out a voice you hadn't heard before, an even deeper voice. "Do you know how bad I felt when you left me in my bed all alone?" To all this, his fingers were still massaging your face, but neither of you was happy. "Being embarrassed is not the same as being a dick." But his hand advanced to the nape of your neck and grabbed your hair, unconsciously you moaned. "Believe me, I have no bad intentions with you, but you make it so difficult for me."

"Do I make it hard for you?" his eyes became so connected that they even electrocuted. "Do I make you hard?" you smiled, feeling Jake's hand loosen your hair, freeing you from his grip. As much as you had his crotch in front of you, it was impossible to see his erection because of his black pants, so you just went up your hand down his legs until you reached his bulge, confirming that yes, he was hard. "You're so disgusting that you don't even ask for my consent." Your mischievous hand made its way to the zipper of his pants, pulling them down and brushing the fly against his painful erection. "You're so disgusting that you don't even mind getting a blowjob at your workplace." Jake licked his lips.

"Who's going to give me a blowjob?" he asked, his lips half-parted. “Me” Without warning Jake's cock was already on the outside, being connected to his boxer by those sharp threads of precum, which were still shooting out of his tip. Jake didn't even stop you, he just looked you in the eye and without saying a word gave you the green card, shaking his head signaling you to start your work.

You were so right. He was a pervert, a disgusting, a completely pathetic man for letting you do this to him in the place where he's supposed to be working. His elbow rested on the table and the hand of that same arm was in charge of supporting his face preventing any kind of sound from coming out of his mouth.

And perhaps he, too, was ashamed for letting a woman much younger than him do this to him, knowing that he could not be satisfied with any woman his age. Not even his ex-wife made him feel this way, so he could spread his legs all day long while you kept your mouth busy making him feel the way he deserved after a long day at work.

Your tongue worked wonders on his dickhead. You knew that he wanted you to go deeper, you could tell by how he looked at you and how he refrained from straining with his hand, he only held your hair to avoid making a curl.

You were going to do whatever you wanted with him, after all, his body language is not an order.

Jake felt his tip throbbing, causing him to growl and close his eyes very tightly and tremble in your presence. "You're doing amazing." He didn't know how to support himself. His head was asking him to stretch back and his pleasure was asking him to keep watching your tongue intertwine in his length. It was even better than watch porn.

Every thought that was going through his head vanished when you finally decided to put a small part of his cock in your mouth. "Even smaller than your tiny dripping pussy, huh?" he said with little force, as he was using it to hold himself in the armrest of his seat.

It didn't even take much effort to get it all the way into your mouth, apparently for Jake it was enough, as his trembling was the warning you had ignored, causing threads of cum to be deposited in your mouth out of nowhere.

Finally, when his charge finished releasing his insides, his hand gently held your chin to force you to look at him. "Swallow it." It took you a while due to your throat still hurting, but you made it, making Jake give you a smile for pleasing him. "You look beautiful with your teary eyes, my sunshine"

At the end of the session, you got up and after this you played a little with Jake, giving him kisses, talking about other subjects.

You missed Professor Park's class, but it was worth it. When the hour passed, you tried to leave but Jake stopped you before you tried to do anything. "Y/N."

"Tell me." You turned your gaze to him. "Do you think you could wait for me in the parking lot?" you saw him curious, waiting for him to keep talking. "Would you come to my house again? Please."

You didn't think twice before speaking again. "Okay, I'll wait for you there, Jae." Jake waited for you to walk out the door so he could weaken himself by the nickname you had given him.

Now your best friend was throwing a tantrum. "Who are you going to go with if not with me?" you felt her jealousy, but you also left laughing at how angry she looked. "Someone's waiting for me."

"Who?" she said, almost shouting, surprised by your confession. "Don't tell me it's..." With what you had told her the other day, it was noticeable that she had already realized who the person you were referring to was. You smiled shyly. "Well, actually I have something to tell you too."

Both made it all the way out of college. You were going back inside to wait for Jake, but you were willing to accompany your friend so she wouldn't be alone. "What happened?" Your friend gave you a big hug, what she usually does before saying goodbye to you, and she didn't say anything, until long seconds later when you saw her walking away to get to the bus stop. "Mr. Park. Check your messages later." You opened your mouth in surprise. From how stunned you were, you could only watch your friend laugh and pick up her pace, doing nothing else. You clearly understood her comment.

Sometimes the best friends’ connection can lead them to have the same anecdote without the other knowing about it.

As surprised as you are, you had something pending. You walked back into the university, specifically in the parking lot. The truth is that you expected Jake to be out of his car waiting for you, but you realized that he wasn't when the luxury car in front of you honked at you, startling you. Even though the windows were tinted you could see a handsome man through them, which made you approach the car and open the door to get in.

"Look at the back seat." Not a 'hello', not a 'how are you?', just orders like the ones he used to give. "They're for you." Seeing the back, you saw a piece of silky but rough, shapeless paper. You grabbed it and turned it over and realized it was a bouquet of flowers. A set of daisies, tulips and lilies, with a letter inside. It gave off a very intense smell, which you liked, you couldn't help but bury your nose in it. "Thank you so much." Jake didn't see you, but you could see him, being privileged to visualize his beautiful smile. "I chose them thinking of you. I'm glad you like them."

My lord, it was impossible for this man to let your breath rest for at least a second.

Before you knew it, they were already down the middle of the street on their way to Jake's house. "Did something happen to your friend? I saw that she was grumbling when you walked with her," he asked. "It's just that we always wait for the bus at the bus stop together," he chuckled. You looked out the window as you continued to smell the scent of flowers brushing against your nose. "This time you also told her that you went with me?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What?" "You two are very loud in class, I think you should speak more quietly." Jake wasn't looking at you, but he could feel the heat you radiated from embarrassment. "Jake, what the fuck did you hear?"

He cleared his throat, "I did something wrong yesterday... But I don't regret abo-" Jake couldn't hold back his laughter as he did his impression, and you didn't let him finish, as you punched him to shut him up. You left the flowers in your lap and looked out the window to avoid making eye contact, even though you were still a little tempted by how Jake had spoken.

"Girl, don't get mad." His voice was distorted because his laughter was still intact. When he finally calmed down he saw that you were still looking out the window, he ran his eyes back to the road and placed his hand on your thigh, which gave you goosebumps. "How about we go out to dinner tonight?" You felt his thumb move back and forth, finally getting you to look at him.

"Together?" Jake nodded. "You don't have to do this just to fuck me properly." You felt like he was joking. "I don't need a luxury dinner to fuck you properly. Besides, that wasn't in my plans, I just wanted to hug you and fall asleep next to you."

You smiled at the calm tone I use to tell you. "Are you serious?" Jake, again, nodded. "Well, you could suck me off..."

He kept one hand on the steering wheel, and hearing those words come out of your mouth, he lightly squeezed the thigh he was holding. "Okay, but only tonight."

– taglist ₊ ˖ ་. @hollyoongs @sunoozznn @sansluvr @simhinata @addictedtohobi @isylvr @gimmeurtummy @japieeey @tasnim10 @rikiwaify-blog @yohanabanana @kenzory @lilyuwon @xiaoderrrr @seochannnn @sumzysworld @enhalover12 @loljaeyunz @belowbun @hearts4itoshi @literallyags @antivenus @linfluenza @wonlvkay @skylaly @whatchulookin2 @river-demon-slayer

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evilwickedme · 3 months

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It's so clear to me that so many so called "anti Zionists" - especially the non Palestinian goyim - have no idea how the Israeli election system works, and how bibi remains in power, and why we had five elections in like, three years, despite elections supposedly being every four years - because he couldn't keep a government stable enough to stay in power. Bibi netanyahu is MASSIVELY unpopular, and his approval rate has tanked even more since the war started, even among likud voters, the people who vote for HIS party (although their approval rates ranked less than the rest of the population). He has an extreme right wing government because if he didn't cooperate with right wing extremists and haredim he straight up wouldn't have the majority he needs to be our prime minister in the first place. He's been on trial for corruption for years at this point, and tried to completely restructure the judicial system just to avoid prison - leading to nearly a full year of protests until Oct 7. Luckily it didn't end up passing.

If elections were held at any point in the last five months since this war started, not only would he not be PM, we'd straight up have a center-left government. My recent transformation into a Yair Golan stan account is a joke but also 100% real - according to polls from the last three months or so, if he does what he's campaigning to do, leading a combined avoda and meretz party, he'd get enough votes to have an actual influential left wing party in the government for the first time in decades. An unbelievable amount of Israelis are calling for bibi to resign, many of them not calling for it to happen after the war ends, but right now.

I am sourcing this information from polls conducted by channels 11 (kan), 12, and 13, as well as by the Israeli democracy foundation, all but one of our important news channels - channel 14, the last channel, is our equivalent of fox news, and despite their numbers often being extremely different due to what is in my opinion biased reporting and flawed methodology, even they at times have had to admit that gantz is currently leading in the polls.

(Disclaimer that I work for a company that provides subtitles for channel 13, but i do not directly work for channel 13. Channel 13 leans mostly center left, and employs several (self identified) Arab Israelis in front of the camera, including Lucy Aharish, who makes considerable effort to bring Palestinian and Bedouin perspectives to her show. It also employs at least one massive racist though.)

I write this post because I keep seeing an unsourced claim by goyim that there's a poll showing a high rate of approval - 88%! - of the destruction and/or deaths Israel and the IDF are causing in Gaza. I went down a rabbit hole and simply couldn't find a poll asking about approval of deaths or destruction, although maybe I was looking up the wrong keywords? As a result I have just... So many questions. Because with the information I have from trustworthy local news sources, from the news channels I mentioned above and papers such as yediot aharonot/ynet and Haaretz, it doesn't fit with current public opinion, including many recent protests for more efforts towards a ceasefire. So my questions are thus -

Who conducted this poll? Was it a think tank, a government agency, a paper, a news channel? If so, which one? Are they left leaning, right leaning? Was it conducted by an Israeli or foreign institution?

Who did they ask? Was it a sample of likud voters; all Israeli adults; did they include only Jewish Israelis or also Arab citizens (approx. 1.5 million out of our 8 million population), Bedouins, and other minorities?

When was the poll conducted? Was it in October, immediately after the Oct 7 massacre, before the death toll in Gaza grew? Was it conducted more recently?

What, exactly, did they ask? Did they ask about destruction in general, or about the death toll in particular? Did they ask about the attempts to rescue hostages with military means, or all military actions? Did they ask about the number of Hamas operatives dead, about their estimated ratio of Hamas to civilians, about the total deaths?

What was the size of the pool surveyed? Was it conducted on a few dozen, a few hundred, or a few thousand people?

Because without this information, that one, sole statistic is essentially useless. As Mark Twain said, there are lies, damned lies, and statistics. Always look at the source and ask: who asked the questions, who got asked, and what the questions were.

More specific statistics and sources under the cut.

I did find one survey by the Israel democracy foundation that asked if the IDF should take the Gazan suffering into account - an entirely different question, although it did still have a horrific 89% Jewish Israelis and 14% Arab Israelis and Palestinian citizens who said they shouldn't. That said, the pool they were drawing from was not very large - 500 of the interviews were conducted in Hebrew, 100 were conducted in Arabic. Also, of the people who supposedly said that they shouldn't, a little more than half of both populations said they should "somewhat" take it into account - that is, they didn't say they shouldn't take it into account at all, just not make it their first priority. This survey was conducted mid December.

In another survey by the same source with a slight larger sample size (a little over 600 Jewish Israelis and a little over 150 Arab Israelis), an insanely low 15% still wanted Bibi to be the PM, with the only candidate who received more than 6.5% being the center candidate Benny Gantz, who historically has tried to cooperate with center and left parties, with a whopping 23% of the votes. The survey included 10 candidates, as well as five other non candidate options. 4% voted "just not Bibi", and an actually insane 30.5% voted they were undecided. Only a quarter of those surveyed believed Bibi would manage to maintain a coalition after the war, a number that includes more extreme right wing voters, and only the ultra Orthodox haredi population had a majority of people (60%) who believed he can. This survey was conducted in January.

The channel 13 news survey from early March - barely over a week ago! - covered more specifically which parties would manage to get into the government and how many seats they would get, as under a certain amount of votes you simply do not get seats. Not all seats get into a coalition. According to their poll, the amount of seats the likud would get is halved, from 32 to 17, while gantz's the state camp would grow from 12 to 39. While currently meretz gets 4 seats and haavodah do not get enough votes to get a seat at the table so to speak, a combined haavodah and meretz under Yair Golan gets 9 mandates. In total, the right wing only get 47 mandates, well short of the amount of mandates necessary to create a government.

Channel 12's corresponding poll from January shows 35 mandates for gantz, and bibi had 18 mandates. Channel 11, in the same month, gave gantz 33 mandates and bibi 20.

I also sources an English Jerusalem post article which reports on channel 14's polls; jpost is a right wing biased paper, and yet even they report 36 mandates for gantz and 18 for bibi as of February.

Sources

The Israel democracy institute: 1 (English), 2 (Hebrew), 3 (Hebrew)

Haaretz: 1 (English) (paywalled)

Channel 13: 1 (Hebrew)

Ma'ariv: 1 (Hebrew) (reporting on channel 12)

Podcast which summarizes the above article: 1 (English) (includes transcript)

Kan 11: 1 (Hebrew)

Jpost: 1 (Hebrew)

#gail speaks #i/p #israel hamas war #jew tag #bibi netanyahu #benny gantz #yair golan posting #yair golan #jumblr

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lassieposting · 7 months

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Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 meta #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #mom said it's my turn to project on the blorbo #astarion ancunin

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writing-fanics · 3 months

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underneath the willow tree [everything stays]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[summary: he left you waiting in the garden and slowly nature reclaimed you]

Let’s Go

In The Garden

You’ll find something waiting

Your laughter seemed to echo throughout the garden. You were always so cheerful and full of joy, that was your gift after all bringing joy to others in Heaven and Earth. You sat there in the garden, waiting for Lucifer. He promised that he'd meet you in the garden, as he had something he needed to tell you something very important.

You were naive and innocent and unaware, of his infidelity. How he'd been spending time with Lilith, sleeping with her when he was supposed to be meeting up with you. You were blissfully unaware, of how your very own fiancee is cheating on you.

He was drawn to Lilith, Adam's wife, because of her independence, which made him infatuated with her. Unfortunately, he was unfaithful to you, and you were unaware of his infidelity.

You believed that your relationship was flawless and were looking forward to the upcoming fall wedding. Between you and him, and you wondered what he had to talk to you about.

Maybe new adjustments to the wedding?

As you waited for your fiancée to return, you spent hours standing amidst the serene beauty of nature, listening to the sweet melodies of birds and the soothing sounds of nature. You were filled with a sense of innocence and contentment, as you played with the ring on your finger - a symbol of your love and commitment to your significant other, Lucifer.

You giggled as butterflies landed on your nose and then flew away. You began humming the songs that Lucifer would sing to you. As the sun slowly started to set, you looked up at the sky and whispered, "He's been gone for a while." Despite this, you continued to wait.

and waited

The passage of time seemed to have flown by as you looked down at the ground. You noticed that roots had wrapped around your legs and your hand had been in the same position for so long that you felt rooted to the spot.

You couldn't help but frown as you wondered if you were doing everything correctly. Had you accidentally missed seeing Lucifer? And where was your fiancée? It was difficult to tell, as it had been a long time since you last saw him.

You found yourself weeping while standing there, wondering where he could be, as the cold breeze sent shivers down your spine. Your legs felt rooted to the ground, making it impossible to move a single step.

As you stood there, you noticed something strange happening to your body. You felt an unseen force pulling you down, and before you knew it, roots had wrapped themselves tightly around your legs and arms, preventing you from moving any further.

You struggled in vain, but the roots only grew tighter and stronger with each passing moment. As time went by, you realized that you were slowly transforming into a tree-like shape, and your tears fell to the ground like rain, watering the soil. The roots that had once trapped you were now a part of your being, intertwined with your limbs and coursing through your veins.

You couldn't help but weep, and as you did, your tears began to take on a life of their own. They sprouted from your body like leaves, delicate and dainty, resembling the graceful branches of a willow tree. You were no longer just a human; you were a part of nature, forever frozen in time, a poignant reminder of what once was.

It wasn't until centuries later when the King of Hell, arrived in Heaven for the centurial meeting he had a few minutes to spare. He'd seen and walked passed the willow tree that rested in the courtyard of the courthouse.

As he sat underneath the huge oak tree in the park, he couldn't help but notice the strange looks he was getting from passersby.

Perhaps it was because he was dressed in a suit and tie, an unusual sight in a public park. But he didn't care, he just wanted to enjoy the peaceful surroundings. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the branches of the tree, and some leaves fluttered down around him.

As he brushed them off his lap, he noticed something small and shiny land on his thigh. When he looked down, he saw that it was a ring, a familiar-looking ring. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he couldn't help but wonder how it ended up in his lap.

As he held the ring in his hand, he couldn't help but notice the delicate engraving on the band. He began to read the words, and with each passing second, his heart sank deeper and deeper.

He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and heartache wash over him as the true meaning of the words became clear. It was as if the words were a painful reminder of a past mistake that he could never undo.

‘To my love, my everything,’

- Love Lucifer

Everything stays

Right where you left it

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #x reader #fanfic #angst #romance #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

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theminecraftbee · 1 month

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The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.

"So," he says, finally.

"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–

"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.

"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.

"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.

"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.

"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.

"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.

"It was real," Xisuma says.

The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!

"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"

"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"

"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"

"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.

"No?" Xisuma says.

"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"

"Yes," Zedaph says.

"No," Xisuma says.

"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"

"Please don't," Zedaph says.

"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.

"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."

"That was ominous?" Joe says.

"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."

"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.

"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.

"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.

"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.

"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.

"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.

Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.

Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.

Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!

"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"

"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."

"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.

"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.

"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"

"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."

"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.

"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.

"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #xisuma #joe hills #zedaph #stressmonster101 #a bee fic #me vibrating at high speeds: WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES #the fact today is hermit-a-day-may xisuma day is coincidence i'm not doing it (although everyone should!)#but i figure it decent timing anyway

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bredstick · 10 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are having a good day. This is the first time I'm making a request so if I write stupid things, please turn down my request. Male!reader can see curses even though he has no cursed energy. Although he is very kind and gentle looking, curses are running away from him because of the energy he radiates. He is descended from a clan that was destroyed by the Sukuna in history. The general characteristics of those coming from this clan are that although they are physically weak, they can destroy even the strongest curses with a single touch. Also, the men of this clan appear feminine in appearance and can be mistaken for a woman from afar. And the jujutsu sorcerers are unaware of the existence of any of this clan because they think they have all been destroyed. Also a member of this clan can be easily identified from their physical characteristics. So what is the reaction of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna when the reader is able to heal curses that have been transformed from human into curses and destroy the bad curses without doing anything, even though he has no cursed energy at all?

Sorry if it's too long and complicated English is not my first language. Thank you!

JJK men find out you're a descendant from an extinct clan (male reader!)

Reactions from Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

Gojo Satoru

▪︎ He didn't even know about the clan and its users until other people spoke up about you, how you were different from the others- already speculating you have connections to the clan.

▪︎ He was curious on who you were, since that's the first time he'd heard of you, so he arranged a group mission with you involved (principal was confused, why did the strongest need a companion?)

▪︎ First look at you he thought you were a woman until you spoke up on the mission, allerting him of certain dangers across the curse filled field. He was surprised, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to see the powers you behold.

▪︎ Turns out the enemy was bigger than he thought, and wanted you to step back from it, considering your body was quite frail and you seemed weak to him- he didn't know what to do when the curse was moving in the speed of light towards you.

▪︎ He was just about to teleport you away, but you sensed a curse approaching you, and as a reflex you immediately put your hand up and touched it without seeing the said curse. You could feel it, not see it.

▪︎ Just as you touched it, it exploded without a second thought. You and Gojo just stood there in complete silence, Gojo's lips slowly forming a grin. You might become someone on his level.

"So, mystery boy, what's your name?"

Kento Nanami

▪︎ Didn't really care when he saw you around until he was on a mission with you, not even knowing you're the one everyone's been talking about

▪︎ "I'll take care of this" thinking you're still a newbie and don't know how to use your technique because he didn't sense any cursed energy within you

▪︎ TAKEN ABACK by the way you destroyed the higher rank curse so quickly- needed to register the fact that such a frail person could behold such power (he's totally not jealous)

▪︎ Is even more taken aback when you heal yourself, thinking that he's seeing things

▪︎ "So..... you've mastered your cursed technique I see.." he says after awkwardly standing next to you for who knows how long

(you're on the villain's side on these)

Suguru Geto

▪︎ He wasn't paying attention to you, thinking you were just a boring sorcerer with no power to overturn the world to what he wants to create- he did question your gender though lol

▪︎ Not until a fight with jujutsu sorcerers (including gojo's presence) have you really proved yourself worthy of his praise

▪︎ He was oh so so glad you were on his side when he saw your healing abilities- seeing Gojo's face drop in realization on who's clan you belonged to has made him thrilled

▪︎ "how about we rule the world together?" he said with that smirk of his;)

Toji Fushiguro

▪︎ "uhh.. what are you exactly?" would totally be his first words while meeting you

▪︎ he wasn't even listening to you until you mentioned your clan, which he heard of from the zen'in clan and how overpowered your clan compared to his was- which had a positive effect on him since he hated his own clan. The murmurs of "I'm glad the clan got wiped out years ago" was coursing through his mind while he snickered, and took on your offer of getting together for the destruction of the zen'in clan.

▪︎ When he saw your abilities and even saw that you and him both don't have cursed energy was a big win for him, thinking of treating you to a nice dinner after you're done with the killing (let's hope he can afford it)

▪︎ "I've been waiting for this" he says, slashing the clan's throats.

(here you're on the good side again)

Ryomen Sukuna

▪︎ Your abilities being shown to him made him go back to the good old days when he was slaughtering your kind to bits, giving him ptsd from you just showing him one of the techniques

▪︎ "How the hell did your kind come back?? I killed all of you" he says in the most disrespectful tone ever, making you rage

▪︎ he underestimates your power, forgetting how troublesome your clan was to kill- perhaps you were even stronger than them, making him wonder who taught you to perfect the techniques and how he could let someone slip away from his brutal slaughter.

▪︎ when he gets seriously injured, he curses under his breath and goes back into hiding in itadori's body (he simply cannot be asked to deal with your kind again)

▪︎ "That damn brat... I just need to consume all of the fingers so I can beat the shita outta him"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu toji #gojo satoru x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #geto x male reader #gojo x male reader #toji x male reader #sukuna x male reader #nanami x male reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #nanami kento x male reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #anime

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poquiii · 1 year

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König x reader / Ghost x reader headcanons

How they laugh (and smile a little)

Ghost.

● He rarely laughs.

● None of your jokes, even your best ones (in your opinion) amused him in any way.

● Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, he might snort quietly, but no more.

● When the two of you are alone at your house, you can see the smirk on his face without a mask.

● You like to make him smile.

● He doesn't notice it himself as an affectionate smile slowly blooms on his lips as you hug him, sitting on his lap while he watches TV.

● If you're lucky, he'll smile at your laughter, thinking it's the most beautiful sound in the world.

● Once you were able to make him laugh.

● It wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. You were having dinner at your apartment. You told him a silly, almost embarrassing joke that you yourself didn't think was particularly funny.

● And he laughed.

● He had a husky, guttural laugh.

● Sometimes he gasped and at that moment he whistled.

● It was hilarious and you can't help but start laughing.

● It was as if he himself was frightened by the sound, he covered his face with his hand and you could see how red his cheeks turned.

● But he didn't stop laughing.

● He put his elbow on the table and put his face in his palm, still shaking.

● Well, you found his weakness. Honey-eater anecdotes.

König

● He smiles all the time when he sees you.

● Even though you can't see his mouth, you can see his eyes. And they always crinkled under his mask when they were directed at you.

● He had a beautiful smile, warm and toothy.

● He wasn't shy about laughing, but he tried to do it quietly.

● He didn't like to draw attention to himself, so he covered his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound.

● But in private, he was very loud.

● His laughter was like the roar of an airplane engine bursting out of his huge chest.

● It could be heard for several rooms around him.

● He would slap himself on the knee or slap his hand on the table or any other surface that was near him.

● If someone else hears him laughing, he is sure to get scared and run away.

●Sometimes he laughs until his stomach hurts, and then he will complain about it.

●He has a really infectious laugh.

●He very likes videos with funny animals. Especially dogs.

My AO3 🖤

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themochiverse · 1 month

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Lost | JJK

➳ Pairing: yandere!kidnapper!jk x kidnapped!fem!reader

➳ Genre: Yandere, Angst

➳ Warnings: Swearing, kidnapped reader, jungkook is a bit violent to the reader, implied stalking, implied past assaults, Dub-con/Non-Con kissing and touching, Jungkook degrades the reader, drugging (sleeping pills), implied overdose to kill, suicidal thoughts, hair pulling, and scratches...

➳ Synopsis: When you try to escape from your captor's home one more time, there's always this feeling of lostness, and you don't know why but always feel lost. Lost in thoughts, lost in false hope, and lost in the woods with him.

➳ Word Count: 3k+

➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that use anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

A/N: Finally wrote something in a while, hope you guys like it :)) Also please don't read if you feel uncomfortable, warnings have been listed above.

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94

The dim light in the room emitted a warm, orangish-yellow glow, enveloping the space as your fingers were scratching the corner of a table. The gentle hue seemed to intensify the temperature, wrapping you in a sultry embrace, and causing beads of sweat to form on your skin. As the light flickered softly, your heart thudded in your chest, the rhythm echoing in the stillness of the room.

You gulped, and your foot impatiently tapped the wooden floorboards and it immediately stopped once you heard his footsteps. Your gaze was fixated on the corner of the table— you didn't want to look up.

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to ignore that bile feeling in your stomach that made you nauseous. His boots stomped across the room, getting closer to you and your fingers intensified the scratching.

Jungkook dipped his head towards your neck, his warm breath gently brushing over your skin, as it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were tangled in the locks of your hair, and he pulled it gently. He kissed the side of your neck and rested his chin on your head.

"Food's cold."

Your eyes darted to the plate of food he had given you not long ago, and you hadn't touched it since he left for some errands. Normally you would eat the meals he made for you but your mind was eating you up, the constant thought of him possibly knowing you tried to escape last night.

But how would he know? Even if you had slipped a pill into his meal, which knocked him out for about thirty minutes, how would you escape? When you opened the front door the chilly air that hit you caused you to blink several times.

You were free. You finally get to leave.

But as you took the first step outside, your eyes scanned the tall trees that decorated the entire area. Your heart sank. You couldn't get out of this place because you don't know how to.

Where would you go even if you had run deep into the woods? Would you even find a road? A path that could lead you to a sane person? You tried to reason with yourself as you looked back inside. This was your chance to get away from a monster like him, you could report him to the police and go back to your family and friends...

But what if he found you? What if you were lost, and by the time he woke up and figured out you were gone, what would he do? He'd go berserk, and he will find you. You don't know why but you're certain of it. You don't know the woods very well unlike him.

Jungkook knows his way around this deserted place, he's lived in this small cabin for years now, and he held you captive for months now. Of course, he would know, he prepared it just for you. What if you died while trying to escape? What if—

You closed the door as your back rested against it. You were so pathetic, so hopeless.

You stood up and walked up the creaky stairs, entering the bedroom where Jungkook was sleeping on. The effect of the pill even had such good timing that it hit him when he was getting ready for bed with you anyway.

Yet, you wasted it.

A scream was lodged in your throat, and your lips trembled. You hated to cry, but you couldn't help it. The warm tears trailed down your face as you crawled onto the bed.

Kill him.

Your own mind spoke to you, and your breaths shook as you heard your next words.

Go on. Wrap your hands around his neck, and kill him.

Decorate him like a bow on a present, and kiss his lips until you can't breathe anymore.

Your eyes widened when your hands were on his neck. They squeezed the fragile base, and you could feel his pulse. Slow and rhythmic, and it matched the quiet breaths he let out.

You inspected his face, and his hair fell on the top of his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut and his lips were parted open.

He was demented, a cruel person. You won't ever forget the things he did to you, how you felt so humiliated because of him. He took you away from your loved ones just so he could selfishly keep you and show his immense love curated just for you.

But you still couldn't do it.

You pulled your hands away quickly and Jungkook's fingers twitched. There wasn't much time left till he woke up. If you killed him, you would have won and lost at the same time.

You had no idea where you were, and there was no cell reception for you to call anyone. How would you prepare food, and fend for yourself? You don't even know a pathway that could help you to leave this damn forest. What would you do without him? But at least he would be gone.

You sighed and wiped your tears away, and you curled up next to him. You don't know why but your hands automatically reached out to play with his hair until you fell asleep. You don't know why but there was a part of you that didn't want to leave him.

You snapped back into reality once you felt Jungkook slither his arms down your shoulders as he murmured softly.

"Come to the bedroom with me, baby."

You didn't hesitate to follow behind him, and even if you didn't want to come he'd force you to anyway. Jungkook shut the door once you stepped inside the bedroom, and he took off his leather jacket before he put it back on again.

He sat on the edge of the bed and checked out the dress you wore for him. A white mini dress adorned with white laced straps, and the soft, flimsy part stopped on your thighs midway. The embodiment of the outfit hugged your structure beautifully like a doll, and Jungkook couldn't control his growing desire for you.

He patted his lap, and his words came out in a command.

"Sit."

You took a step forward, and Jungkook grabbed your waist, making you sit down on his lap. One arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, and his other hand gripped your chin. Your faces were inches away from each other as Jungkook stared at you intently.

"You wanna tell me something, beautiful?"

Dear god no..

You shook your head at him, watching his lips form into a frown.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you know I don't like lying."

His tone had turned serious, and your stomach churned uncomfortably. Jungkook shuffled his arm to get something from his pocket, and he retrieved the item, showing it to you.

"What were these doing under the bed, baby?"

He shook the container filled with sleeping pills, (blue and white) and your fingers dug into his shoulders firmly. Your eyes were filled with terror, and panic flooded in your veins.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, and he brought your chin closer to his face. You were forced to stare at him, to look into the eyes that frightened you almost every day, no matter how loving he tried to be.

They were crazed...a look you never wanted to see. His tongue peeked out from his lips, and it traced the silver piercing that was on the flesh of his lips.

"You really think you knocked me out last night?"

Your heart banged against your ribcage, and your breathing increased. He can't know, he can't, he can't, he can't-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the little act of you wanting to cook for me all of a sudden? Huh?"

Jungkook squeezed your cheeks harshly, and his lips moved against your cheek.

"I wanted to play along. Give you that feeling of being triumphant over something ridiculous. You really are a fool, aren't you?"

Your eyes darted away from his, and your hands were off his shoulders. You yelped softly when you felt him push you even further into him, your chests touching each other as he made sure he held you more securely.

His hand flew to your neck, and he grabbed it roughly, and his nails dug into your skin.

"Eyes on me when I'm fucking talking to you. And don't even think about fighting back." Jungkook's eyes narrowed and darkened as he spoke right against your quivering lips.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt suffocated as if the smoke from a wildfire was in the room. He found out...Jungkook found out.

"When you tried to choke me- honestly...I was surprised. But I knew you didn't have it in you. You wanna know why? It's because you're a fucking pussy, baby. You don't have the guts to kill someone."

A laugh vibrated wholeheartedly from his chest and you felt his cold hand drawing circles on your thigh. He put his lips towards your neck, taking a long inhale before he spoke again.

"You were such a good girl a couple of days ago, what happened to that good little girl who listened to me? Hm?"

You wanted to get out of his grip so bad. Your palms, slick with fear adhered to his shirt like trembling moths ensnared in the silky strands of a spider's web. Your delicate touch betrayed the intensity of your uneasiness with each shuddering breath you took.

Jungkook pulled away from you, a sudden thought coming to his mind. He stops drawing circles on your thighs, and he tilts his head slightly.

"I'm going to give you a chance to run away, okay?"

No.

"Gonna count till...thirty, and you're going to run into those woods as fast as you can."

Stop.

"If I find you..." his hands slide up on the side of your body, arms encircling around your back, "I'm gonna shove these down your pretty little throat, got it?"

Jungkook motioned to the sleeping pill container, sending a wave of goosebumps flying over you, and the hairs on your neck stood as you took a solid gulp. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours before he pulled away. His arms loosened around your back, brushing your hair away from your face. He lowered his forehead against yours, murmuring softly.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

For a moment, you were in a daze, lost in his eyes, captured in them. You didn't want to leave since he was probably messing around with you. You couldn't help but continue to stare at his doe eyes as your reflection glowed inside those dark eyes.

How were you so lost in them? Lost in the eyes of a man who kidnapped you, claiming he loved you. You were lost in your life, alone with no proper companion. Your life was already ruined, and you ached to be loved by someone. That's why he took you because he had a reason, and you didn't have a reason to deny it. You needed someone, and Jungkook claimed that he was the one.

He's observed you before, and you caught his eyes like a hawk once you bumped into him on your way to work. That's why he was able to snatch you on a cold Winter night, and he caught you, his prey, so easily. Why? You were lost, just lost in reality, lost in your depressive thoughts, and lost in love. You were just a poor girl lost in her delusions and wondering if your life would have been different if you had chosen the right decisions. You didn't notice him walking behind you, advancing on you before you could even utter a single scream.

It was an impulse and before you knew it your lips attached to Jungkook's moving ones. You grabbed onto his shirt, kissing him with soft movements.

Kissing him till you couldn't breathe anymore.

His hand was tangled in your hair and he pulled you closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It was like Jungkook got the message, you wanted some hope, false hope to be exact. His tongue prodded at your lips before it slipped inside, and your body was growing hot as you both made out.

You almost let out a whine when he sucked and nipped on your bottom lip before he pulled away. You watched the way his chest rose and fell before a breathy laugh escaped his lips. His eyes scanned your face, and Jungkook grinned. He brought his hand to your face, wiping fresh tears off your face.

You were crying? Of course, just lost again but lost with him in an intimate moment.

He cupped your face, and his head beckoned to the door.

"Still haven't finished yet, baby, I'm close to twenty, you sure you don't wanna run now?"

You let out a quiet sniffle, getting off of him and once you left the room you sprinted down the stairs. You didn't bother to put your shoes on as you ran into the woods, your white socks already muddied. You ran and ran, and this time you noticed yourself crying. Why has your life turned into this? Why did you kiss him?

Your body shook with each step you took and each shuddering breath made you want to give up. It was completely dark, and the tall trees engulfed the entire area. There was barely any light, how were you even going to get away from him? The wind blew harshly over your face as you slowed down, stopping at a trail that seemed endless.

You wanted to laugh, but why did you even attempt to escape yesterday? Why did you even think about escaping in the first place? You know what happens, Jungkook has taught you several times but you just don't stop. Your life was shitty, your family disowned you because you were a disappointment to them. Your friends were toxic and fake, and you were alone. And you hated that.

Is that why you kissed him?

You kissed him because he was the only person who knew what your life was like, you kissed him because you were scared or maybe you kissed him because you were lost in the emotions you felt about him, and about yourself. There were moments when you were sad, and the next when you felt angry, rebellious, hopeless, irritated and lost.

Just run.

Just fucking run and stop thinking.

You're getting lost in your thoughts again, and he was going to catch you if you didn't stop now.

So you ran, and your heart was throbbing in your ears. Twigs snapped, birds cawed and for a second you thought you heard Jungkook.

You could hear another set of footsteps behind you, and the realisation dawned upon you. He's right behind you. You forced yourself to run even faster, ignoring the cuts that were plastered on your skin. You were running out of breath and your legs wobbled, they began to ache. You can't give up when you've come this far.

You can hear him getting closer to you. When you looked up straight ahead, there was a faint light that glowed uphill. A light! It could be a car, a home, or somebody. You bit your lip as you tried to go uphill, the pain in your feet grew as you stepped on sharp twigs and debris, desperately trying to climb up. You squinted your eyes to see a road, and your hope grew instantly.

You could leave, you could find someone and call for help, you could finally get away from him—

Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A scream erupted from your throat, and you thrashed in his hold.

No— you were right there, you were about to escape.

A sob broke from your lips as you kicked your legs, doing anything to get out of his hold. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his hold on you tightening.

"Shh," his voice didn't soothe whatever you felt right now, "if you fight me back, I swear I'll make it worse for you."

The threat hung in the air, and it immediately made you stop your movements. Jungkook pushed you down to the forest floor, the wet soil coated your white dress, and this time the scratches stung even more.

"I was going to take you back, but look how far you made it. Almost made it out of here." A smirk formed on his lips as he took out the sleeping pill container.

"How does three sound?"

His words were a blur to your ears as you stared into the far distance. The light was still glowing brightly and soon a car drove by. You sobbed and your nails dug into the ground. Just a bit more time and you would've been free.

You felt the back of your head yanked up, and Jungkook's hand tugged your hair as you glared at him with furious eyes.

Jungkook whistled, smiling as he popped open the container.

"Don't look at me like that, you should have left the moment I started to count."

Your eyes fell to the water bottle next to him and that's when it hit you. Jungkook giggled at your reaction as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle.

"Came prepared because I knew my girl would get lost in these woods pretty fast, and far."

One hand gripped your jaw, and Jungkook pushed the pills inside your mouth. And he gave the bottle to you.

He wanted you to do it because he knew that you knew you lost. Your hands squeezed the bottle, and you brought it to your lips before chugging a good amount to swallow the pills.

"Did you say three?"

You asked him with a hopeless look.

"I lied," he said, watching you with a gleam on his face, "and gave you two instead because I don't want to kill you."

You wanted to laugh at that, maybe you should have just taken three. The effects soon hit you, and your eyes became sluggish, and your eyes blurred with tears. You lost your grip on the floor, and Jungkook swooped you into his arms effortlessly. His face was blurred as he was taking you back to the cabin. Just before your body shut down, right before your tears escaped and your eyes closed, Jungkook murmured to himself quietly, and a mixed feeling of hope and happiness washed over him.

"You're lost again, baby."

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