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#idk what to tag I ONLY HAVE ONE PERSON LEFT.
prince-liest · 2 days
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First off; I LOVE 666!!! 'Multi-series hard kink/edge play pwps (though I'm with you on the 'without plot' being a total misnomer) that are actually in depth psychoanalysis of characters and complicated relationships' is one of my favorite parts of any fandom ( I'm being specific with that because no really for years in a lot of fandoms there's been that one ((or 2)) series that like. Will stick with me forever and make me think about sex/intimacy/myself differently. And your fic is 100% that for HH). I have a lot of squeeing about a lot of it that I hope to be able to coherently comment about at some point but for now!!!!
I was wondering if there was specific purpose behind where certain scenes take place? Like if they're at 'Vox's place' or 'Alastor's place'? because I thought there was a pattern of when Vox is (or ends up) subbing it's at his place (where he would feel safer and therefore more comfortable being vulnerable maybe) and vice versa with when they're at the hotel. But looking back at it to write this maybe I'm making that up? Because they just mostly do take place at somewhere of Vox's? Because I guess Alastor did end up 'going home' at the end a lot. In which case is there specific reasoning behind them not being at Alastor's place as often? (Does he just have less privacy at the hotel lol?) Idk I thought I was getting something, especially with that 'we're at the heart of your territory' line in part 8??? The more I type into this rambly chatty ask the more I think I was just overthinking. But it stood out to me anyway. ANYWAYS. *Finally pauses to breathe*
I really appreciate your series and I love your interpretation of these two weirdos relationship!!! Every snippet and every update I see drives me crazy!!! Thank you so so much for all your work!
Ahaha, I'm so glad to have written that fic for you in this fandom! Someone left a tag on one of the art posts for 666 recently that said "can't wait to see what emotional revelation unsafe kink will lead to this time" and it's. Pretty on point for the series, ehehe. With the likes of Alastor and Vox, it's really hard to dive into any form of intimacy without, like, emotional repurcussions, and that's my favorite thing to write! Thank you so much!
As for your question: To be perfectly honest, there's no specific pattern behind which location I choose for a fic as far as their roles are concerned! They mostly take place preferentially at Vee Tower because Alastor doesn't want to invite all the fuss and bother of Vox's...everything...to the hotel until much later in their reacquaintence. It's much easier to decide that he's done with whatever's going on and to dip out of Vee Tower than it is to have to remove Vox from the hotel (or, well, at least in theory: he portals Vox back into his own bed pretty easily after their night of drinking, haha).
Alastor inviting Vox over for drinks is a sign that he's actually, like, opening up a bit in certain ways by actually inviting him into his living space. Previously they'd mostly only been at the hotel transitionally, and during the second time they slept together, which is also the first time Alastor actually slept with Vox for reasons other than "for the meme", and was looking for a more comfortable, controlled environment to try this new thing in. (And also gave fewer shits about kicking Vox the fuck out without a second thought.)
In a way, the locations follow the general pattern of Alastor's emotional evolution throughtout the series: he's fine with it being at his place at first because he feels more secure and doesn't give a shit about Vox; then he transitions to being more careful and shutting Vox out of his personal space; and now he's slowly gotten to the point where he's comfortable inviting Vox in on occasion.
Alastor's opinion tends to matter more between the two of them as far as location is concerned, so it's mostly down to that, plus occasionally me thinking, "Hm, this episode would be cool to do in blue shark tank mood lighting," hahaha.
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warmau · 2 years
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☆ [nostalgic] summer romance! hendery another late as all hell birthday au! but happy bday dery~! find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei | doyoung | jaehyun | jungwoo | ten | jisung | renjun | jeno | xiaojun | shotaro
"the air conditioner is broken in my apartment."
you cross your arms and jut your hip out with an amused gaze
"uhuh and the world is ending on thursday. what do you really want hendery?
he wipes the back of his neck and shoves his palm into your face with the evidence that he's been sweating for hours
you pull back just in time with a face
"im serious, my place feels like the pits of hells."
"i think that's fitting."
you don't uncross your arms and hendery groans
"c'mon, please just let me in for an hour of relief."
hendery looks unbearably long
taking up most of your carpet and then some as he lays starfish in your cool living room
you had been watching something on your tv, absentmindedly wasting your weekend away when he'd come ringing on your doorbell
technically, you aren't "enemies" or anything - you've been neighbors for well over half a year
it's just something about him irks you.
maybe it's the way he has one of those obnoxious doormats that doesn't stick to the ground so if you aren't looking and step on it - you'll go sliding down the hall like you're on ice
or the fact that you noticed he doesn't properly know the difference between fabric softener and detergent so he just pours them into the machine when he's in the laundry room with you
actually, you grind your teeth yourself, it's none of those - it's the fact that he thinks he's entitled to everyone else's hospitality and never gives any of his ow-
"can you throw me a pillow?"
he outstretches his toned arm and you ignore the way his muscles flex as you chuck one off your sofa at him with the intent to hurt
but he catches it effortlessly and without anything close to a thanks
he's a brat. that's why we don't get along.
"can i change the channel?"
"no."
"you aren't even watching the tv."
"and this isn't even your house."
hendery rolls over onto his back and gives you a glistening white smile that you're both envious and pissed off at.
"hey, why do you hate me so much - could it be that you secretly want all of thi-"
he runs his hand down the line of his body and that's the straw on the camel's back for you
"get out."
"oh come o-"
the door shuts with a heavy, cruel thud and you are left in peace again.
you stare at the pillow on your carpet and walk up and down the spot where you can still feel the heat from his body.
what a weirdo. well at least he won't bother me again.
you're in the shower the next time someone rings on your doorbell.
you half expect it to be the deliveryman so you peek your head around the curtain to yell out that they can leave the package at the door but all you get in response is another doorbell ring
you huff and grab a towel, wrap it around yourself and trek out with slippery footprints left in trail as you get to the door
"who is it?"
the doorbell rings again
maybe it's the building manager? only she's such a hardass about things and wouldn't just give up after the first ring.
you sigh and unlock the door to open it - fully sure now that it's the manager - when all you see in front of you is
hendery
he looks you up and down and you stare back in horror
seemingly unaffected by your appearance he points over his back
"our air conditioners still busted is it ok if-"
"NO!"
you shut the door again and hear hendery yelp in surprise, then add "you could have crushed my fingers!" for good measure
you stand there and grit your teeth - glaring at the door as if you're glaring at him
"hendery. im not letting you in here anymore!"
"but whhhhhhhy - it's so hot, it's like one hundred degrees out and kun can't fix the damn thing so im dying pleaseeeeeeee spare some mercy!"
you harden in your resolve
"no! if you want free AC, go stick your head in the freezer section of the grocery store!"
you think you hear his footsteps shuffle away and the tension releases in your shoulders
you head back into the shower and stand under the water as you try and figure out what exactly made you this mad this time
obviously, it was because he's coming here to annoy me.
the angel on your shoulder quips
but the demon on your other shakes its head
aren't you mad he wasn't all flustered seeing you like this?
the self-conversation is bizarre, and you shut off the water to stop it
when you dry off you decide that the summer heat is getting to you, what does it matter to me what hendery thinks? 
you need to go get some ice cream and regain your dignity
you’re humming to yourself, trying to decide between a tub of plain vanilla or the box of mango popsicles 
when you hear the door to the freezer beside you open
at first you don’t look up, but then you hear a loud sigh and you peek from the corner of your eye just for your gaze to fall on the one person you really - really - do not want to see right now
“hendery. what are you doing?”
he moves aside a carton of cool whip to rest his head on the shelf inside
“i’m doing what you told me to do. sticking my head into a freezer.”
you look around to see if any employees are milling about 
and if they are, you fully intend on abandoning this conversation so no one incorrectly thinks you and hendery have anything to do with each other
but don’t you?
an evil voice in your head suddenly chimes
look at him - doing exactly what you said. isn’t that kind of ........ cute?
you are so dumbfounded by your own inner dialogue that you scoff and hendery raises an eyebrow
“why are you scoffing, first i can’t use the ac in your place and now i can’t even do this? you’re the one-”
you grab the carton of vanilla and let the freezer door shut hard enough to shake the others beside it
hendery pops his head and squints his eyes
“you can do whatever you want hendery.”
“does that me-”
you extend your hand and point directly between his eyes
“let me rephrase that: you can do whatever you want, hendery, as long as it is not in my presence.”
you are half way to the cash register when you suddenly stop
you look over your shoulder, and a part of you seriously expects to see him there again
pouting and whining and annoying you again
but hendery is nowhere to be seen and you pretend the weird drop in your stomach is from the mean look a random lady throws your way for blocking her path to the produce 
hendery doesn’t show up for the next couple of days
you say you notice it only because you’re enjoying the fact that he took your last warning to heart
but in reality, as the vanilla carton of ice cream you bought empties little by little, you realize you’re just searching for him for another reason
one you don’t think you want to confront yet
then one day, when you’re sitting beside the window and eating the last of your ice cream you see him
he’s sitting in the little park across the street, right under the water fountain, and a group of kids are circling around him 
they’re all counting and laughing and the sound makes it up into your ears
hendery suddenly jumps up, shaking the water for him hair and starts chasing one of the kids 
they run all around the park and hendery purposely slows down so that he can’t catch them
you roll your eyes, what’s he doing playing with kids at his age?
and then the kid he was chasing falls, scrapping hands and knees on the hard ground
hendery immediately hovers over, your spoon stays in your mouth as you watch him scoop the little body up into his hands and rush over to where you presume the kids mother or aunt or older sister is
the other children form a curious circle, the ice cream starts to melt down the side of your spoon as you concentrate on the way the one who fell is still clinging onto hendery’s sleeve as their wounds are bandaged up
hendery looks up for a brief second and you back away from the windowsill on instinct
the carton of ice cream drops down beside you
it happens again, this unexpected view of hendery from a distance
you’re coming home from a meeting with a friend and he’s across the street at the bus stop
at first you just look to make sure it’s him, but that posture and grin as he stares down at his phone is a dead giveaway to his identity
so you tell yourself to just keeping going - out of fear that you’ll somehow make eye contact
then, you see him suddenly bend down
at his feet is a local stray, she rubs up against his bare legs and hendery scratches behind her ear 
if you remember correctly, that same stray has never liked you, hissing even when you had tried to put out a saucer of tuna
so you stop walking and watch as it nearly splays down over his feet and hendery laughs and tickles it 
and you hate to say it but you think he looks almost.........cute.
the bus comes puffing down the hill though and hendery picks the cat up carefully and sets it safely in the nearby bushes of another building
before he can turn around in time to see you, the bus blocks both your views
you hurry along and try to distract yourself with the thoughts of what you’ll have for dinner
summer is at its worst when you wake up and check to see that the temperature is forecasted to be 99 degrees
you turn the ac on and sit down to think of what you can do in such horrible weather
when you lean down to press your forehead to the cool surface of your table you think
should i let hendery in, is his ac still broken?
you jolt at the thought. 
recently, you’ve been thinking about hendery a lot. way more than you ever have before.
you’d been watching some b-listed romcom the night before and when the lead had fell on his butt trying to impress the girl of his dreams you’d akin it to something he would do
it was downright unsettling 
the sun has cursed you - you reckon - that’s what it is 
ever since you met him you knew you two wouldn’t get along, yet here you are sprouting up the thought of actually inviting him over if his ac really still is broken
you groan
no, it’s not because you care about hendery or have suddenly grown feelings for him. you’re just a concerned neighbor. plus hendery lives with kun and you.........like kun well enough.
it’s enough of an excuse that gets you up and down the hall, knocking on the door 
hendery doesn’t answer, but kun does - and so does a gust of strong, cool air
“oh. you fixed your ac.”
you say before you can think and kun raises an eyebrow
“fixed? it was never broken.”
“oh.”
you blink up and into kun’s confused expression
before either of you can follow up with a question in the awkward, tension-filled silence
hendery appears behind kun with his bedhead and no shirt. he doesn’t see you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and asks if kun can make him an omelet
you wave without a word and rush back to your own apartment before hendery has the time to notice
you hear kun say something about how hendery needs to learn how to crack eggs himself before the door shuts
your heart is beating ever so erratically in your chest. at the kind of speed that you would deem humiliating.
but, if the ac was never broken then why was hendery always bothering me about it?
the devil pops back up onto your shoulder with a grin big and red like candy
maybe, he just wanted an excuse to be around you.
you spend the rest of the day debating this.
first off, hendery did seem like the type that would annoy his crush in highschool with weird nicknames or notes passed around during class
that is in highschool  - you’re both adults now. there was no way he would still be doing the same thing
then again, this was hendery you were talking about, whose common language and overall vibe seemed to work best with children and animals
you try to convince yourself that that’s exactly the issue
why am i suddenly liking a guy who acts like .... that?
by “that” you had meant childish and weird - but maybe “that” was slowly turning into kind, fun, and really easy to love
the thoughts clog up your brain, mixed with the miserable heat, you just give up and go to bed early
you hope you wake up with a clarity of mind
instead, you wake up to a note slipped under your door
you pick it up and know who it is from immediately.
guess he really isn’t above highschool level flirting afterall?
you read it and it says that hendery wants to meet you in front of the freezer you two talked at last
half of you says you need to keep face and just not go. 
the other half is sick and tired of being single.
hendery is wearing basketball shorts and a plain grey hoodie when you show up
“a lot of layers for someone who said their air conditioner is broken.”
is your opener and hendery turns to you, first smiling and then letting his face fall into a serious expression
it’s the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes not twinkle with some form of mischief
“yeah - i - kun told me you stopped by.”
now you feel your own playfulness wear off and while clearing your throat you wait for him to continue
“i’m sorry about lying. and im sorry about always being a nuisance to you.”
you wait two beats and hendery stays quiet
“anything else?”
you can tell he doesn’t really know what you mean by the question, you know he’s racking his brain for the ‘right’ answer
“i mean - um.........i’m sorry for being....um........rude?”
he tries and in response, you can only jut out your hip and roll your eyes
by that, hendery can tell that he hasn’t said what you’re wanting to hear so he tries again
“i’m sorry for acting like a chi-”
“hendery.”
he straightens up and stares into your eyes with concentration
“why did you lie in the first place? that’s what i want to hear. what was the reason.”
again, you can tell the cogs in his head are turning, and you start to second guess yourself
maybe he didn’t just do it because he wanted to be around me - maybe he really just wanted to annoy someone? was he just.....
“kun said i should apologize, i shouldn’t bother people just because i’m bored.”
........bored
you think you hear something break, maybe a glass bottle in another aisle over
but the ringing sound in your ears is actually just the fragments of your own heart
“right. you were just bored.”
you repeat and a shadow casts itself over your face. hendery reads the switch fast and reaches out to touch your shoulder
you shake it off and turn to leave, as there isn’t much else you can say
this time you don’t look back to see if he’s following you. you don’t think twice about the time you’ve spent changing your opinion on him and you decide that afterall, you knew that you and hendery just would never get along. in any kind of way.
“i’m sorry.”
his voice comes from over your shoulder before you can push your way out of the exit door of the grocery store
“kun also said i shouldn’t lie. i was bothering you because i like you. i was acting like a five year old with a crush because that’s the only way i’ve ever been with the people i like. i know it’s dumb and i know i really made you mad so i- i’m sorry.”
before you can turn, hendery tries to move past you and run away first
you catch him by the back of his hoodie and he freezes up when you tug him back toward you
“i’ll do anything ok, seriously, i’m sorry i will try my best to stop liking you because i know it’s a burden please i-”
he’s rambling and rambling and you two are blocking the way for people to get out of the store
so wordlessly and with more force than you mean to, slam your arms around him from behind
you bury your head into the fabric 
“you talk so much. i think i like you too.”
if you weren’t hugging him, you might have been able to see the physical joy that spreads over hendery’s face
it lights up every part of his features and he scrambles to turn in you hold to hug you back
he leans in, eager and overflowing to try and kiss you, but you put a hand up against his mouth
“we’re still in the store.”
he nods, saying something muffled and you push him toward the exit. someone scuttles past you and mutters something about how you both are being so annoying right now
when you finally get back to your place, you tell hendery that he can try again - with the kiss of course - but this time you want a genuine try and not some kind of messy puppy slobber which is what you imagine he had in mind
hendery feigns offence, but when he takes your face in his hands, he’s gentle and you’re thankful that his mouth tastes like fresh mint
“did you plan for this to happen?” 
you joke later as you two cuddle against each other with your ac on blast
“of course. i knew you’d fall for my charms one day.”
you playfully pinch him and hendery cries out like it seriously hurts 
you laugh, the two of you laugh together, but you can’t say he’s wrong
at the end of the day - somehow - you did end up falling for some kind of charm
and that charm stays with hendery, even as you two grow older together 
and being neighbors turns to dating turns to living together 
and the one summer where your shared air conditioner actually breaks and you two find yourself standing in the freezer section with the doors open
trying to take in as much free cold air as possible
you look at hendery’s reflection in the glass with a big smile
“babe, you were so smart back then. this is way better than an ac.”
he chuckles at his own corny joke before you can
you want to quip back, but in the moment all you can do is see young hendery in front of you
sticking his head in between cool whip and ice cream just because you told him to
“hey - i love you.”
you blurt out, even though you’ve said it way too many times before
hendery smiles, says “i love you too” 
and draws a heart in the condensation on the door
you grin and then under it hendery adds word that makes your eyes go wide
“forever?” 
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235uranium · 9 months
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back from the barbie movie and I certainly have Thoughts on what the movie was doing but overall I do think it's worth seeing! it's fun
#☢️.txt#spoilers in tags!#i think what they did with ken is actually really fascinating and while i do get why the movie doesnt focus on his motivations#or the fantasy politics of barbieland#i AM personally interested in them#like his frustration is coming from a legitimate place and the movie does acknowledge that both barbie (margot) and the barbies overall were#Not In The Right and its not the actual solution to the issue of feminism#in the same way that the movie acknowledged that barbie didnt solve feminism and in many cases ended up playing into#the very ideas that prevent women from pursuing the jobs barbie is often shown in#im sure ppl will critique the movie for not going far enough but like. i dont think their point was to make a massive statement?#so much as it was to make a campy blockbuster that gently acknowledges the ways people can so often feel left out#its not the feminist piece of a generation so much as it is a love letter to barbie that acknowledges how shes#an inherently flawed consumerist brand. but one thats deeply cherished by generations and has left a massive pink stamp on our culture#(its probably worth noting that i have generally positive memories of barbie)#(despite being a weird fat kid i never personally felt alienated by barbie and my memories are extremely fond)#(i didnt like baby dolls bc. i never have liked kids but barbie was a fantasy in sparkly dresses)#(she was married to my dinosaur toys. ive always known what im about yes)#my favorite barbies were swan lake a halloween witch barbie and a halloween ghost barbie#(also idk is this an autistic thing for me to only learn most young girls compared their bodies to barbie at like 14?)#(like it just never dawned on me to compare my looks to a toy tbqh. i was more upset by the actual lack of clothing in my size)
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hi jason! sorry if youve answered this before, but what does aaoc stand for? i love the posts that you tag as such so im curious :]
its my tag for posts that remind me of my wip fic(s) !! i havent 100% settled on what to name the series yet but pretty early on in development i stumbled upon that passage by julian k jarboe (from the book everyone on the moon is essential personnel) that goes
Why does God create grapes and wheat, but not wine and bread? God does this because God wants us to share in the act of creation. To be how you made me, to become how God made me, though you, I can remake myself. You and I: we are already only whole, and shifting towards the divine.
and the author also has a tweet relating this concept to transsexuality and youve probably already seen one or both of these floating around on tumblr already but whatever i just wanted to center my t4t hannigram fic around these quotes cause theyre just. so good.
so yeah it stands for "an act of creation" except it should probably be "#taoc" if i wanted it to match the original quote but i cba to go and change it now which is probably not how placeholder tags are meant to work !! oh well . fic playlist <3
#sorry idk if u were asking me abt the tag in general or just the acronym but whatever . infodump time#i have not answered this ask before <3 i rarely get asks and even more rarely answer them 💀#ask#aaoc#i dont even know how much religious themes to include in the fic bc im like the worst person to attempt to write that (<- raised atheist)#but character wise it would only make sense and it would literally make the narrative so much more layered#anyways . some things that go in the tag:#autocannibalism + transsexuality as violence + transsexuality as cannibalism which is like . thesis statement#rural american towns/houses#wolf/dog symbolism + deer & antler symbolism + especially the two combined#literally any pictures of knives but especially those ones made of canine teeth or deer bones. or ones that just have swag gender vibes#knives r gonna be a big thing for young will and theyre basically his symbolic wolf teeth. but maybe fashioned out of whats left of the doe#and of course literally anything else that has to do with/reminds me of trans hannibal or trans will or t4t hannigram or dark!will#ditto with the characters' youths at any point in time since im writing backstories for both of em as well as a florence hannigram arc#and idk sometimes i just go by vibes. sometimes a post is hannigram but ever so slightly different so it must go in the tag#i seriously cant wait til school is over and i can finally go thru my tag and write scenes/notes of what every single post reminds me of#my thought process for the most recent one was just. gore goes on the hanniblog by default + androgyny = defiance of gender norms = aaoc#then it made me think of our convo abt hannibals relationship with japanese culture and also what would body horror be for young hannibal?#so yeah basically just things for my brain to chew on for inspiration#sorry abt the tag wall im normal abt this au (lying) and also just wanted to write down a list of things to tag for personal reference
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fleshdyke · 11 months
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ahsgsjaugejwjg
#sh/sui warning for tags#been having a shit day and just not feeling great overall and usually drinking water and eating helps but it hasnt today :/#which means its an Actual Problem this time. like i knew it was an actual problem when i fucking cut AGAIN but idk#idk man. im just so so so scared of my friends hating me#and i know i have to see my partner again bc she is the one and only person that never ever makes me feel safe and unjudged and everything#but idk. as of right now im just not havin a great time.#like its actually so stupid the things i get upset about. there was some motivational speaker at my school today and when we got called down#to go watch the presentation i had to take like five seconds to grab my bag and phone from my desk#and my two friends got up and left together without waiting for me#and i know it wasn’t their intention and they weren’t trying to be mean or anything but man. doesnt make it hurt less yk.#and i saw some post from a guy in my school of him and his friends in the cafeteria and idk why but it made me so sad. it made me think abt#one time my friends said they wanted to walk around at lunch so i was like ok i’ll eat alone that’s fine bc i’m too disabled to walk around#the school. and then someone sent me a pic of them all eating together in the cafeteria. and i know they probably just stopped there for a#second and weren’t purposely ignoring me or anything but man that did not help yk#i want to leave them alone bc they never seem to want to talk to me but im trying to tell myself its just my mind but its so hard to#and i do love my friends and im making them seem a lot worse here than they are but its just. god im so scared.#idk. i dont actually want to die but i wish i could kms like. temporarily.#i know this is bad and manipulative but i just cant shake the want to know what would happen if i did yk. and this is a terrible train of#thought but like i want my friends to realize how scared this makes me and if i have to kms to do that. idk.#ive brought it up to them before and they pretty much told me to eat with someone else and i said i didnt have any other friends and they#kind of just said not my problem. so i dont want to bring it up again bc im mature enough to deal with my own issues and shit#it’s just hard man. i dont know how im supposed to communicate w them bc everything feels like im traumadumping on them and i dont want to#bother them. im trying to convince myself its not an issue and it doesnt actually bother me but i know it does bc i just fucking relapsed#and i had a city council thing in class today and i was the only person that was denied any funding at all and i was trying not to take it#personally and i was doing pretty good but i told my mom about it and she started defending the ppl that refused me anything and then it was#suddenly personal to me for some reason. its stupid and i know that but god that doesnt make it any better#rambles#vent
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bangcakes · 9 months
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trans-estinien · 1 year
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Sometimes I feel like doing this with my brain
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#its 12 am and i should probably sleep instead of rambling but#man. its rough having your fav blorbo be a fucking terrible person#cause on one hand you have the villain woobifiers and people who just completely ignore major aspects of a character for a fucking ship#and on the other hand you have people who hate you for enjoying a character. and thinking said character is interesting#and yeah yeah i know not everyone will like me and i should just ignore it and keep on doing what i enjoy but. ugh.#and im also constantly worried that ill fuck up and become a villain woobifier myself#and im also constantly worried that when im writing my cannon blorbos ill fuck up and write something super ooc and people will get mad.#i think fandom was a mistake#but i also wouldn'tve met the besties without fandom so? you know. everything's got two sides#this is such a stupid thing to get all upset over but.#unfortunately i am a horrible man enjoyer this has been consistent my entire life.#and people usually dislike people who like your typical tumblr sexyman type character. which is fair most fans are insufferable#veils if you read this far this isnt abt you it's abt someone else. dont want to like start shit so i wont say names#but i saw. a vauge post from someone i thought was cool and i just. i knew it was directed towards the tags i left on their post#and i felt bad so now im having big anxiety over it. its really stupid i know#i am just going to retreat to my corner and hope to creation that im left alone. im just playing dress up with the blorbos#and like. they're entirely allowed to have their opinion im just. brain is convinced everyone hates me now for no fucking reason.#i gotta. work on this but idk how. therapy fucking failed cause i forgot about it 💀#but. i should sleep. its past 9pm so my brain is not to be trusted.#ok fuck it ill just say it i feel guilty that Emet-Selch is not only my favorite character but also my comfort character.#im not going to stop liking him because that wouldn't be fun. plus others opinions dont really matter i can like whatever characters i want
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protect-namine · 1 year
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I'm... confused at work. they moved me to another team because my old team had way too many responsibilities (and we all knew it, the context switching was really difficult) so in the process of offloading some of them to other teams, I got transferred along with them (because apparently I was the one who worked on those responsibilities the most... or something)
but my new manager is about to go on parental leave (good for him) so I guess I'm supposed to report to the interim manager? but then their manager (like, the senior manager?) said I should report to her for career stuff (which I... don't wanna do, but we've been over this topic already). also this new team just got all these new responsibilities replacing their old ones, so we're all just kinda trying to figure out what to do? our pm was on leave while all this realignment stuff was happening so I don't even know if she's caught up with this shitshow and if she knows we're changing directions now because I tried looking up the docs on what the team should be doing this year and I saw her video on her plans for this year but it was posted a week before all this happened and now all that is, uh, not gonna happen anymore I think??
so anyway idk what we're all supposed to do now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).
word count. 2.6k
note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)
tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.
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sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .
. . after your innocence.
it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.
you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.
sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.
it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.
why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.
sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.
it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.
he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.
sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.
he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.
sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .
it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.
it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.
unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.
“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.
sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”
it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.
“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.
sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.
“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”
you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.
sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.
“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.
he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”
you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.
“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.
sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.
“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”
two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.
you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.
“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.
it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.
“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.
it’s all just for show.
“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.
he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”
you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.
the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.
“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”
sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.
you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.
“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.
it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.
it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.
“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”
he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.
it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.
before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.
you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.
“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”
the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.
“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.
it’s probably both.
“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.
a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.
“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.
what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.
or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.
anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.
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lincolndjarin · 4 months
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Not So Secret Santa
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javier peña x fem!reader
this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!
summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.
warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.
tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.
word count : 4.4k
✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)
no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 
“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.
“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  
“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 
“My entire Christmas bonus.” 
“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”
“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 
“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 
“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 
“Please, Steve.” 
“No.”
You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 
When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 
“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 
Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 
Javier P. 
Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 
And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 
Every single woman, except you. 
You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 
He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 
“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 
“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 
“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 
“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 
You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 
Red chipped paint. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.
It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 
Probably. 
It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 
With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 
Stupid fucking Peña. 
Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.
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Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 
You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 
Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 
Jesus. 
You know way too much about him. 
You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 
“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 
Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 
There’s no time to be thinking like that.
You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.
Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 
The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.
“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 
“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 
He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.
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More people show up than you could have expected. 
You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 
You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 
Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 
You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 
String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 
“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 
He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 
Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.
One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  
You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 
“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 
“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 
“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 
Javier traded for your name? 
As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 
“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”
Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.
Huh.
That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 
Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 
Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 
Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  
You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 
Javier’s office. 
You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.
Today is just not your day.
Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 
Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 
“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 
“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 
What a foolish question. 
How could he possibly not know?
“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 
“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 
“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 
“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 
“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”
“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  
This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 
“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 
“So this is about the secret Santa.” 
Of course he wouldn’t get it. 
“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 
You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 
“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 
“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.
“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 
You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 
“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 
“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 
If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 
You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 
Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.
When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 
“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 
“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 
You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 
You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 
Jesus you’re soaked. 
You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 
He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 
You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.
Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 
Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 
You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 
You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.
He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 
Did that really just happen?
He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 
“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 
“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 
“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 
“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.
“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 
“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 
It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.
Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 
[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]
Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 
from : your secret fucking santa
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a/n : happy holidays everyone!!
1K notes · View notes
heartpascal · 11 months
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is it freedom?
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▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader
▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.
▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(
▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation
masterlist PART TWO
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.
But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?
You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.
It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.
But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.
The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.
It’s freedom. It has to be.
You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.
And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.
So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.
You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.
“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.
“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.
“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”
The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.
“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.
And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.
It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.
There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.
You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?
Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.
The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?
“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.
“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?
“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?
The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.
“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.
“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.
You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.
But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.
Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.
“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”
The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.
You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.
His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.
You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.
“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”
Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.
“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”
“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”
The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.
No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.
So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.
However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.
But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.
A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.
She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”
You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?
“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”
You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?
“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.
“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”
The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”
“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.
The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”
You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.
…Right?
It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.
People aren’t born as monsters, are they?
Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.
Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.
“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.
You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.
It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.
In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?
You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?
It didn’t feel right.
And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.
“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.
“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.
It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.
But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.
It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.
And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?
“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.
You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.
Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.
It was a whirlwind from there.
Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.
You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.
But you were.
This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.
You had everything you needed.
And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.
The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.
It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.
“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.
She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.
“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”
You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.
“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.
The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”
“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.
“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”
She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.
It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.
If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.
It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.
Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.
A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.
She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”
“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.
“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.
“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.
Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.
Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.
But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.
Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.
Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.
“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.
“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.
Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.
It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.
She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.
Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.
“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.
You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.
Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.
“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.
As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.
“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.
“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”
The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.
“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.
Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.
You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.
It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.
You’re capable and you’re content.
You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?
The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.
“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.
He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.
He stares at you, unimpressed.
“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.
“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.
You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.
Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.
His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.
“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.
Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.
Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.
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euphoricfilter · 1 year
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Stardust || JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader
Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au
Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.
Word Count: 5.5k
Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig
Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!
<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it
my full masterlist
✯ ✯ ✯
If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.
A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.
Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.
And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.
Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.
Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.
Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.
His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.
Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.
He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.
And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.
Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.
“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.
Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.
Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.
“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.
“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.
“First off, I love you too—“
“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.
“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”
“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.
“Huh” he gawks, “How?”
“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.
“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.
“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”
“Is too”
“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.
“Sex ache”
You pause, “Excuse me?”
“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.
“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.
Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”
“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.
“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.
“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.
You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.
“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.
A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.
“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.
“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.
Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.
But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.
Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)
It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.
Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.
One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.
Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.
It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.
Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.
Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)
It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.
“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”
You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.
“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.
“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.
“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”
“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”
You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.
“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.
✯ ✯ ✯
Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.
You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.
You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.
You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.
Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.
However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.
Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.
If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.
“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.
“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.
“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.
Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.
“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.
If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.
“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.
“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”
You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.
You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.
“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.
“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”
“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.
“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.
“On your back, you brat.”
✯ ✯ ✯
“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.
“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.
You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.
You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.
“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”
Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.
Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.
“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.
“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.
“Hey! No complaining”
You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.
“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”
You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.
Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.
“Not so bad huh?” he grins.
It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.
“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.
“Just a few more, you’re doing great”
“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.
Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.
Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.
“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.
“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”
“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”
Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.
“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.
Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”
You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.
“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.
“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”
“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”
“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.
“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.
“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”
Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”
“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.
“Made what obvious?” you whisper.
“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.
“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”
“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”
Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”
“You’re unbelievable”
“Me? What about you?”
Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.
“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.
“High school”
You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.
Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.
“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.
“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”
“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”
“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.
“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.
“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.
And Jungkook nods, “I agree”
“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.
You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.
Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.
There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.
Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.
“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.
“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.
“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”
“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.
He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.
You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.
“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”
Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.
You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.
“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.
You hesitate.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.
“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.
“But?” he urges.
“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.
“How can I help?”
You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.
“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”
“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”
Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”
You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.
“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”
You nod, falling onto your back.
Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.
“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.
His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.
He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.
Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.
“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.
“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.
He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.
“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.
“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.
Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.
“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”
That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.
Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.
“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.
“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.
You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.
“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.
He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.
He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.
“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.
You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.
“Please, Jungkook”
And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.
“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”
You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.
“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.
Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.
He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.
“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.
“Mhmm”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.
“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.
You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.
“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.
Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.
“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.
He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.
The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.
He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.
“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.
You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.
“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”
You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.
He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.
“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.
“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.
✯ ✯ ✯
Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.
It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.
There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.
All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.
He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.
Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.
Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.
Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.
So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.
Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.
He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.
Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.
Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.
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writteninspring · 2 years
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ancuninfiles · 25 days
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Bite Night
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Gif by @astarionposting
18+ MDNI - M/F - Astarion x Tav (Baldur's Gate 3) - Words: 3.6K
Tags: smut, somnophilia (if you squint), non-consensual vampire bites, blood drinking, enthusiastic consent (sex), vaginal fingering, P in v, creampie, mating press, outdoor sex, soft Astarion, sorcerer Tav, nondescript Tav, Aftercare, idealized version of events, no beta we die like cazador
Summary: It has been 3 days since the nautiloid crash. Tav may be the sweetest person that Astarion has ever met. Night falls, and he is overcome with intense feelings of hunger. Tav sleeps alone, peacefully by the fire. He can hear her pulse from the treeline, and it invites him in. Or... could it be more than her pulse inviting him in?
Sorry, Idk how to write summaries. :,)
Read on AO3
Astarion had never met someone like Tav. She was so kind to him, despite their first meeting beginning with him holding a dagger to her throat after having tricked her into thinking he needed help. It was interesting to note that in retrospect, Tav being a sorcerer, could have easily used Shocking Grasp on him while he held her, pinned beneath his blade. She, instead, was oddly compliant. 
__________
“I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod.” Astarion cooed
Tav looked up at him with eyes half-closed and eyebrows knitted together, nodding. A look he could only assume was partially caused by the sun beating down on her face. It was as if she completely surrendered to him, going practically limp in his arms, which made him soften his grip slightly.
“Splendid, and now you're going to tell me what you and those tentacle freaks did to me.” he peered down at her, eyes briefly flicking to her neck and then up to her eyes again. Despite her relaxed form, her pulse was quickened and it was distracting. Astarion's mouth started to water slightly.
“I- I didn't do anything… I was abducted, same as you!” She pleaded.
“Don't lie to me. I- AUGH” Astarion yelped, as a purple aura surrounded both him and Tav. Their minds were suddenly connected, he was able to peer into her thoughts and feel what she was feeling. 
To his surprise, her mind had been focused on compassion towards him, the man holding a blade to her throat. “He and I have the same problem. These tadpoles. And he is likely reeling after all this. He could be a good ally to have.” 
Astarion's mind had then shared broken pieces of his past with Tav. Pieces that he would have rather kept to himself, but nothing incriminating yet. “What was that!? What's going on!?” He raised his voice.
Tav's was panting as if their minds connecting had worn her out. “You saw into my mind, it was the parasites! They connected us.” She said, with her eyebrows still knitted. Her mouth was agape and she took one last big breath before calming her expression. 
Her breath smelled of mint, and her hair smelled like lavender. ‘Gods, her scent, her pulse, her expression. Everything is distracting about her.’ he thought to himself. 
Although he would have loved to hold her for longer, grab her hair and sink his teeth into her flesh, he decided against it. Feeling confident that she was not a threat, he released her. They maintained eye contact with one another as they both slowly stood up.
‘She wants to be my ally’ he thought to himself.
__________
They had picked up a couple more allies on their misadventure so far. A cleric with an odd name and an annoying wizard who talks too much. Tav seemed naive. She was picking up strays left and right. Were these others to be trusted?
Tav had a way of making everyone feel accepted and comfortable. “If you need anything, please let me know. I don't care if I'm sleeping, reading, or otherwise busy, you can wake me up. I want to help.” she exclaimed to the whole group with an earnest look in her eye. She made sure to look at everyone in their eyes when she said this. 
‘Gods, she couldn't be more sweet. So tempting.’ He thought to himself. He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she acted, but no, he had to stop thinking things like that. Even Tav would surely end him if he were to slightly hint at the fact that he was a monster. 
Besides, Cazador would most definitely flay him for drinking the blood of a thinking creature. Although, the parasite had granted him immunity from the sun. Maybe Cazador can't control him at all anymore.
__________
It was time to settle in for the night. They had an exhausting day looking for a healer, which they had to fight through a hoard of goblins to get to. It had been 3 nights since the nautiloid crash, and Astarion had already snuck off the previous night to find  a boar, which he stupidly left in the middle of the road. Tav and the cleric had fixated on it. The cleric had pointed out that the boar had been left fully intact but without blood. To Astarion's dismay, these stangers were smarter than he initially had thought.
Tav was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep beside the fire, while everyone else left to their tents. She was a powerful ally indeed. Tav and Astarion carried the team, while the wizard was frequently coming within an inch of death and you would have thought the cleric was blind because she missed almost every shot. 'Leave it to Gale to cover the ground in grease and then slip in it and fall prone, himself', Astarion thought.
While everyone was sleeping, Astarion slipped away into a clearing in the woods to have some privacy and decompress after all that's happened, for the first time since the nautiloid crash. Finally able to be alone with his thoughts, Astarion's memories of his master plagued him. It was as if he were there, reciting his rules. 
First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.
Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.
Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.
Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.
'Terrifying. So much for being alone with one's thoughts' Astarion thought. He left the clearing in distress, feeling like he was being stalked by Cazador. 'He can't control me anymore, I can walk in the sun...' Astarion told himself, in an effort to calm himself down. A burning feeling climbed up his throat. He was starving. Exerting himself more than usual was likely to blame. He had to find something to eat, soon.
__________
Astarion made his way back to camp, stopping at the tree line to assess the state of the camp. Sweet Tav was still sleeping soundly by the fire. Sweet Tav's words replayed in his head. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I don't care if I am sleeping". Sweet Tav who had shown him compassion almost immediately after he had pulled a dagger to her throat. Sweet Tav whose breath was minty, whose hair smelled of lavender, and whose pulse sounded so beautiful; hypnotic. 
Astarion snuck close enough to Tav to see her throat, so beautifully exposed. An easy target. Tav was wearing nothing but a thin silky nightgown with small flimsy straps. Her supple legs were exposed and glistened in the firelight. The wind blew and her scent wafted into Astarion's face. 
This was too much for Astarion to bear any longer. He slowly and stealthily climbed atop Tav, making sure not to wake her. He held his breath, he didn't need to breathe anyway. She was lying on her back, so Astarion slotted his leg between her thighs and placed his left elbow on the ground beside her head. He used his right hand to tilt her chin to the side slowly and gently brush her hair away from her pulse point. 'Formalities' he thought. Astarion slowly lowered his open maw onto Tav's throat. Finally puncturing the skin, blood started flowing into his mouth as he latched on almost like a feral animal. Tav's blood was ambrosia, it tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was sweet, but complex like a fine-aged wine.
He could no longer control himself, he was sure to wake her. He tightly grabbed onto Tav's hair with his right fist and pushed her neck into his lips. It was then that he heard a sweet mewl coming from Tav. 'Of course, she would be moaning when a monster is consuming her.' Astarion groaned into her neck and brought his knee flush up to Tav's core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee. She was enjoying this. A desire started building in Astarion's lower abdomen, causing his cock to strain against his pants. 
Astarion continued to take generous gulps of Tav's blood, running his tongue across her pulse point to try and force more blood out, faster. He let loose a primal groan into Tav's throat and then repositioned himself so that his clothed cock was pressing into Tav's exposed cunt. She accommodated Astarion and wrapped her legs around his pelvis with tact and enthusiasm. Tav reached her right hand up to Astarion's curls, but Astarion grabbed her wrist and pinned it beside her head. Tav moaned, but her rutting became slower, as did her pulse. 
"Astarion - I" Tav whispered. Astarion finally came to and unlatched his teeth. His brows knitted together as he licked, and pressed his tongue firmly against her wound to soothe Tav and congeal the blood. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck, and then slowly started releasing her wrist, but Tav let out a breathy whine into his ear and grabbed his left hand, lacing her fingers with his. Perplexed, he looked up at Tav with round eyes. She was gazing at their laced hands. Astarion eyed her fresh puncture marks to make sure the bleeding had seized, and then gently tilted her head to face him. 
Her eyes were wet and filled with lust. Her chest was heaving, her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils were blown out.  "Why did you stop?" Her voice came out breathy, almost a whisper. 
Astarion smirked, "Oh, you sweet, generous thing." 
Tav's left hand came up to touch Astarion's face in a gentle caress while her right hand was still affectionately connected with his left. She eyed his lips, taking in the blood on his chin and swiping it softly with her thumb. Her eyes fluttered back up to meet his gaze, but he was eyeing her lips as she had his. 
Tav's lips were the same colour as her blushing cheeks. They were seductively parted. Astarion's gaze shifted back to Tav's eyes again, as she caressed his face with her thumb. Such a gentle little thing, and after what he had just done to her. He ought to feel shame for taking from her. 'She is so beautiful' he thought. The firelight flickered in her wet, sleepy eyes. Her hair was gorgeously spread amongst her bedroll. She was like an angel, no, a goddess. It was hard to believe she was real, or that someone could even forgive him for what he had done to her, let alone want him to continue. He looked at her with concern in his eyes which were becoming wet themselves.
Tav's hand slithered shakily to the nape of Astarion's neck. "I want you if you'll have me." She smiled earnestly, her eyes curled with her smile like tiny rainbows. She caressed his nape as she did his chin. "Please, Astarion." She sang
His name sounded like a melody on her lips. She was a siren, pulling him in with her song. Pulling him in, to drown in her. Their lips crashed like the waves in the Sea of Fallen Stars. They moaned into each other as their tongues danced around one another's teeth, exploring, and tasting. Astarion didn't want to stop until he had tasted every corner of her maw. Their kiss was bruising and sloppy. Tav made advances with her tongue as well, and she opened her mouth wide enough to let Astarion explore deeply.  Her mouth tasted as minty as it smelled, and his mouth tasted like her blood. He paid extra mind to not hurt her with his fangs. 
One of her hands tangled in his hair and the other hand rested on his back. He pressed his pelvis closer to her's and he groped her soft flesh with one of his hands, hastily exploring her body and reaching under her nightgown to grab her breast. He pinched her nipple and rubbed it between his fingers. Tav let out a higher-pitched moan in his mouth. He snaked his hands down to her exposed and throbbing core. She was unbelievably soaked. Finally lifting his mouth from hers, he looks at her with a smirk and says "You are positively dripping for me, darling." He started rubbing slow circles on her clit and her back arched, seeking more from Astarion.
 She groaned. "I want you inside me, please." Her eyes pleading and her words drifted out in a soft sigh. She was squirming slowly and weakly. The poor thing was so weak from the blood loss.
He peered down at her face which seemed to be blushing more and more, and her skin was now glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Only because you ask so sweetly." He exclaimed before plunging two digits inside of her, working her open. She hummed in a whiney tone, which only egged him on further. His fingers curled up as he patiently started getting her hole ready for his cock. Her mouth opened and her eyes nearly rolled back into her head. She was the most enchanting creature in all of Faerün. He wanted to do anything for her, and he wanted to bury his cock entirely between her legs.
His free hand pushed her nightgown above her breasts, exposing her naked and writing body to the night air. It hadn't occurred to him until then that they were in the middle of camp. The cleric and the wizard could catch them, but Tav seemed unbothered. Astarion had noticed that his senses were much sharper after drinking Tav's blood. He realized he was confident enough that he would hear anyone coming long before they could see anything. 
His fingers started to pump into her faster, and he palmed her clit. Her breathing became heavy and jagged. "I'm so close! Astarion!" She moaned his name as her pussy fluttered around his digits. He fingered her through her orgasm, only pulling away when she started to twitch at the touch of her clit. She inhaled deeply and let out a groan. Her head fell back and her breasts rose and fell with each exasperated breath. "Hmm, you are wonderful, Astarion." She hummed with a bright smile on her face.
Astarion crept up to meet her eyes with his, "You're unbelievably beautiful." He said sincerely. She looked up at him with her pleading eyes again. He brushed her hair with his fingers and admired her features. He brought her into a molten kiss that both burned and bruised their lips. His hand caressed her naked torso, gripping her in every place he could before landing his strong grasp on her ass. Their kiss flew apart and she let out an exceptionally whiney moan and looked down to where his clothed cock was.
His cock was beginning to strain unbearably against his pants. He expertly unlaced his trousers and his large member sprang free, glistening with precum. He glanced down at her soaking core, her thighs were covered in her cum. He hooked her knees over his biceps and he teased her entrance with his cock. He groaned and exhaled, and looked at her face so he could read her expressions. Her brows scrunched in anticipation.
"Hmmm please fuck me. I want you to fill me up so bad." she sobbed and clenched her jaw. 
Astarion groaned "I love it when you plead for me, little love. Your voice sounds so sweet. Please tell me if you want me to stop, can you do that for me?" 
She bit her lip and looked him in the eye, again with that sweet look on her face. "Mmhm"  she nodded.
He didn't need any more confirmation from her as he slowly sunk his cock into her hole. Her mouth opened slightly and she started breathing heavier. He pulled out all the way and stroked her wetness onto his shaft. He sunk back down into her languidly until he finally was fully inside. He grunted at the feeling, and she was breathing heavier than ever. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were wet.
"Are you okay, sweet love?" He said with concern as he stilled inside her.
"Mmm yeah. You're just - so big, I've never had someone -reach into me so deeply. It doesn't - hurt, I promise" she spoke softly. Panting throughout her sentence. "It feels, so good" she whined.
His cock twitched at her enthusiasm and she moaned quietly. "Oh darling, I am going to fill you right up," he said as he pulled back and then snapped his hips into her. He leaned down to her and stroked her cheek as he kissed her jaw. "Precious." He whispered in her ear.
He began rutting into her at a consistent pace. She pulled his shirt up to feel more of his skin against hers. She was so warm compared to him, her aura engulfed him like the fire they lay next to, consuming the carbon in a flickering rage. She was so tight, and warm, and wet. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last, but he knew he wanted to make her cum one more time before he finished.
He reached down to her clit, and started rubbing tight quick circles. She moaned between her teeth and the muscles in her legs tensed. Her mouth fell agape and she started panting beautifully. "That's it, good girl. Cum on my cock." 
His words were enough to send her over the edge, and her cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock. He fucked her through her orgasm, only stopping his attention on her nub when she was pulling away. He readjusted her legs atop his shoulders, and her knees were practically beside her head. He was able to reach deeper in her than before, and his cock was hitting her sweet spot at a perfect angle. 
"Do you want me to fill you with my cum, darling? Is that what you want?" He teased as he fucked her mercilessly.
"Yes!" She begged, "Please, I need you to fuck your cum into me!" 
Her lewd suggestion sent him toppling over into his own climax, and he pressed himself deeply into her folded form. Groaning as his head fell to her side, he placed chaste kisses on her neck where he had bitten earlier. She could feel his cock twitching deep inside her, his spend spurting on her walls and dripping down her ass. He pulled out a few inches and then slammed back into her again, stuffing his cock into her deepest depths, making sure that her desires are met and that his seed has thoroughly coated every corner of her tight, quivering hole. 
They stayed connected for many long moments and then eventually they both rolled over to lie on their sides, facing one another. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. Astarion pulled his pants back up, and Tav lay sleepily with her flesh still exposed. "This won't do." He said as he scooped her up with his arms.
"Oh!" She squeaked, as Astarion carried her bridal style to his tent.
He lay Tav down on his bedroll. "One moment, love, I will be right back!" He said with newfound energy.
Astarion searched for one of the most soft fabrics that he had kept for future sewing projects. He found the silky red cloth and he soaked it with water from the river. It was cold, but it will have to do. He made long strides back to his tent to find Tav, who was almost sleeping. 
"This is going to be a bit cold, little bird." He cooed. He then ran the damp cloth along her most vulnerable parts. She hummed sleepily and smiled as he slowly cleaned her up with seemingly the highest degree of care. He then took the same cloth and cleaned himself up briefly. 
The night was warm, but Tav, being alive, was more susceptible to the temperature. He only had his brown boyish blanket in his tent, so he quickly went to Tav's tent and snagged all of her pillows and blankets to bring them back to her in his tent. She was like a sleepy doll. He propped her head up on the softest pillow and covered her body in the warmest blankets. She sleepily hummed with glee, and Astarion looked at her snuggled up in the blankets, admiring his handiwork. 
He changed into a fresh set of night clothes and then joined her under the blankets. He faced her and affectionately brushed his fingers across her cheek and under her ear. His palm rested on her cheek and his thumb stroked her cheekbone. He would speak to her about all this in the morning, and apologize for feasting upon her like a ravenous beast; but for now, she was in his arms and he felt an unyielding desire to take care of her. She nuzzled into him and kissed his hand. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. She turned around so her backside was facing him. She scooted back to connect with him. His touch was soothing and cool against her under the warm blanket. He froze for a moment at the overwhelming affection, and then he fell into her and held her tight. 
He didn't know exactly what these feelings were, but he knew that this was nice.
They both closed their eyes, and Tav fell into a deep sleep. Astarion began to trance. He didn't know it yet, but this would be the best trance he would have in 200 years.
Author notes:
HEY. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I actually haven't really ever written anything before, and I don't plan on writing anymore. It took a really long time, and it was way harder for me than I thought. The number of times I had to look at synonyms. Ffs... lol. But YEAH. I actually don't have much of an interest in writing anyways so it's all good. Srsly kudos to any of you who are writing fics, especially the lengthy ones. I have no idea how you do it. Every paragraph is a brain fart for me. Please don't mind any mistakes. I used grammarly, and I TRIED MY BEST LOL. ANYWAYS, LOVE YOU, SMOOCHIES.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like
:O what have you done :O
and you're like
idk
and hes just like heart eyes
bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy
MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS
--
Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.
You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.
There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.
"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.
"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."
"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"
"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"
It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.
"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."
You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"
"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."
Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.
"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."
You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.
"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"
"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.
""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."
"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."
"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."
"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."
Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.
"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."
"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"
"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.
"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."
"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"
"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"
"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."
"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"
"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."
"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.
"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."
She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.
Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"
"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."
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vickyzangels · 1 year
Text
% “top floor motel suite, twistin’ my cigars..”
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# synopsis ; post-concert adrenaline? you two sneak off after a performance (girl idk) also another anon requested tom and reader fuck before a concert while i was writing this so i hope close enough
# pairing ; tom kaulitz x fem!reader
# word count ; 835
# tags ; nsfw (mdni), fingering, oral (f receiving), no specified relationship, this is probably ass but i’ve seen worse
a/n ; wow a smut so soon how bold🧍🏻‍♀️
also “meine frau” - my woman/wife (you guys aren’t actually married it’s just a nickname don’t get your hopes up delulu)
teeth grinding together as you both pushed your way into a backroom. tokio hotel’s performance ended and as soon as they left the stage to make room for the next, tom dropped off his guitar to grab you and pull you away (obviously not without bill looking at you two weirdly, he knows what you two have been doing 👁️👁️). the process of running into the room, slamming the door, and ending up against it while making out with each other was blurry, but here you two were moaning into each other's mouths just like after every concert.
he held one of his arms against the door next to your head and had the other one holding your side under your shirt, using his thumb to rub slow, small, and gentle circles into your skin innocently like he wasn’t currently lifting his knee to rub you through your jeans. the friction was so perfect with how it rubbed against your clit through your panties and kept making you buck onto his leg. the feeling was so engulfing, with your eyes screwed shut and panting into the air with tom moving down to your neck leaving kisses, by god if an angel came down to take you to heaven you’d say no. not like you’d make it in, anyway with what you two were doing
“meine frau, you’re so impatient.”
“i- what?”
he pulled back, keeping his arm next to your head and on your side, and looked at you with those eyes that under any other circumstance would make you want to vomit and tear your hair out for good reason but right now he was smirking. that smug asshole.
he laughed, “i said you’re so impatient. hey, you’re getting yourself off on my leg, don’t lie and say you’re not!”
your face was starting to contort, it looked sour. is he serious? while you were literally riding his leg, he calls you impatient? he was starting to see your change of mood like he was getting worried he ruined it.
“listen, i was just joking, i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”
“and how do you plan to do that?”
“..i’ll eat you out.”
and before you knew it, you ended up sitting on the table against the vanity mirror shoving everything off of it to make room for you. something sweet about you two was that despite being similar in personality, a lot of your physical features mirrored each other. like how he always wore baggy jeans and you wore tighter ones, which would be cute in other conditions but right now while tom was trying to pull your jeans off to kiss your waist, it was more of an inconvenience.
thankfully, they came off and tom made quick to kneel and put his head between your thighs, sucking the insides to leave hickeys and inching closer to your cunt. somehow you hadn’t noticed till now that you were painfully throbbing, your thighs covered in slick and wanting to close your legs, only stopping yourself from doing so because you remembered tom was between you. not that he’d complain about being suffocated with your legs.
tom had been kissing his way closer to your pussy and it was driving you insane how close he was to pleasing you but he just.. hadn’t. you opened your mouth, starting to weakly beg him to touch you, pleasure you, when he finally flattened his tongue against you and licked a long stripe of your pussy.
“..please, tom, touch me- holy fucckk!”
he started to suck on you, reaching up his fingers in a v-shape and running them up and down your folds to later hold them at the entrance, prodding at it just barely enough to enter you. he’s a bit preoccupied but if he had a mouth to talk, he’d say something about how desperate you were for him, but it looks like he pities you and finally pushed a finger into you to move with slow strokes.
he kept his consistently slow speed by lapping at your slick, pushing in a second finger and turning it upwards to curl them inside you. the strokes and curls of his finger were starting to speed up and match the new motion of his tongue flicking your clit.
“god! shit-“ you moaned.
a knot in your stomach was starting to form and every single passing second of hearing tom lap loudly at your juices and the additional gushing from his fingers and mouth kept pulling the knot tighter and tighter. he kept groaning into your cunt, every word he repeated vibrating through you. you were dangerously close, bucking against his face like a bronco to have his nose continuously rub your clit.
“fuck, tomm! i’m- shit- i’m gonna cum!” weaving your hand into his dreads and riding his face to your release, squirting your slick through your orgasm. he kept sucking and lapping at you, resisting your weak attempts to push his head off you before finally stopping to kiss around you cunt. through your heavy breaths, “..your turn?”
“yeah.” he uses the table next to your legs to push himself up, quickly going to fumble with the belt over his pants, nearly getting the entire strap off before-
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
tom was the one to answer, “wer ist da?” who’s there?
“oi, du musst raus, wir gehen und nein, du kannst keine 5 minuten mehr haben, mach es im hotel.” hey, you need to get out, we’re leaving and no you can’t have 5 more minutes, do it at the hotel.
“verdammt noch mal.” damn it.
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a/n ; working on this for 3 days straight with 2 allnighters while ignoring how awkward it is to write it just to hate how it comes out then give up towards the end is crazy… 😟
© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.
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