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#(I didn't say that either. but at the time I felt like I should)
candylix · 2 days
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great minds think alike | bang chan
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A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.
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You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?
This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.
You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.
Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.
Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.
Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.
"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.
He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.
"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.
"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.
"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."
"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."
"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.
"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."
'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.
"I hope I don't distract you, then."
He laughs nervously at your comment.
"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.
You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.
While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.
'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'
There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.
'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.
You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.
He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.
You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.
"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.
You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.
You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.
Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.
It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.
He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.
Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.
"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.
'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'
You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.
"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."
"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."
He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."
"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.
"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.
You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.
For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.
You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"
"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.
He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.
You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.
You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.
"Me too," you admit.
As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.
"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"
"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."
"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."
You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.
You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.
Although he would argue otherwise.
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EPILOGUE:
You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.
"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"
You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.
You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.
He looks at your score.
'Wow, what a terrible grade.'
He looks back at you.
"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.
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vivitheanimaxen · 3 days
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Tango couldn't remember the last time he slept.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd worked on a redstone project either.
That was irrelevant! He was perfectly fine. There was a reason he was down by Gem's docks. Right?
"Tango?"
Speak of the devil and she shall appear! That was Gem herself, pulling Tango around. He didn't want to, there was something about the--
"Tango. Tango, hey." Gem forced him to meet her eyes, "Don't tell me you've been possessed again. After last time? C'mon man, you said you'd. . . do. . ."
Tango didn't know what Gem was talking about. He wasn't possessed. Tango knew what that felt like and that wasn't this.
Gem got an odd look in her eye, before latching her hand around his wrist and dragging him back up the path towards his house. But--
That wasn't home anymore.
Not when his place was down by the water-- in the water-- he was waiting for someone to come back--
"No-- Tango-! Ugh." Gem planted herself between Tango and the mists over the water-- the place where he had promised to be.
Tango found himself sitting at the edge of the dock. There was something tied around his wrist, but he didn't mind. The tips of his boots were dragging in the foam.
"Tango, homie-buddie. It's freezing out here, you should come inside." Skizz had rested a hand on Tango's shoulder.
"Can't you hear it?" Tango asked, breathless as it came back.
The song was promising him the answers to everything. He just had to be here to hear it. To decipher it's song.
"Hear what?"
Tango was fighting against the pull of hands, trying to take him away. His friends-- not friends anymore-- they wanted to take the music for themselves-- "I promised! I promised--"
His mouth was full of the taste of blood. Blood and cotton and he couldn't hear the rush of the waves anymore. He was too warm. There were voices nearby.
"How is he?" Oh, Tango recognized that voice, that was Xisuma.
"Still unresponsive. Is Ren-?" That sounded like Impulse.
"The same way."
Impulse sighed, "He's too quiet. Tango's never been this quiet."
"I'm listening." Tango had to listen otherwise he might miss the music.
He couldn't remember who the music went to, but-- It was someone he needed to be there for. How long had it been? He needed to get back to the water.
Tango was on his feet, trying to push past the arms holding him back. There was a snarl pooling on his tongue, frustration sparking deep in his bones. He needed to get back to the water.
He yelped as someone slammed into his back, knocking Tango off his feet and into the grass. He writhed, kicking, his tail lashing and sparking as he struggled to get free. There was nothing in his inventory. He had nothing but his hands and his fire and the grass around him and they were closing in--
Tango was floating in the bay, Gem's conduit letting him breathe like he should be able to. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his fire was sputtering, angry about being underwater.
Well too bad fire, cause Tango was right where he was supposed to be.
As evidenced by who was in front of him.
The someone, the who he'd promised to be there for when he returned.
The song wrapped around him like a blanket, smothering the chill from the sea and guiding Tango close. He didn't quite remember where he'd met them before but he knew that this was the right thing.
Until he was out of the conduit's range.
Until the water that was so welcoming before now choked at his air and bit at his warmth.
Until the song that'd promised him everything suddenly disappeared.
A hand hauled Tango out of the water by the back of his shirt, dumping him in a sopping heap on the sand. He spit up half the ocean by the time he was able to breathe again.
He was hearing words, but he couldn't figure out what Skizz was saying. Or Impulse for that matter. The music was gone though.
It had abandoned him and now?
Tango didn't know what to do next.
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slushycoookie · 2 days
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My Husband has a Symbiote! Pt.4
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: Miguel is showing off his breeding kink again, somnophilia, oral sex, pregnancy sex (kinda), MINORS DNI!!
Summary: It's the big thing you've all been waiting for.
A/N: Every time I write Miguel with a symbiote, I go crazy. He just brings that feral part out of me. Enjoy!
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You felt exhausted.
The weight of your exhaustion felt like a ton. You could barely move your body, struggling to even get to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the sink as you leaned on it for support. Your eyes are fighting to keep open. All you wanted to do was rest.
“You should take Ravage.” Miguel stood close by, a hand on your back. His voice lingered with concern, “They'll make you feel better.”
You shook your head, “I had them the other day.” You agreed to take the symbiote once a week. Just so you wouldn't get addicted to having them attached to you. You didn't want to take advantage of using the alien either.
“You've been feeling this way for a few weeks. I don't like it, we should get you to a doctor.” You grimaced at your husband's concern. “Don't be like that. We have to see what's going on.”
You glared at him, annoyance brewing inside. “We’ve been having sex nonstop. Don't you think I'd be tired?”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But you're never like this.”
“I'm fine, Miguel. I just need to sleep.” You brushed by him, completely forgetting whatever you were supposed to be doing in the bathroom. Instead, you burrowed yourself under the blankets, getting comfortable in bed.
You thought due to the constant love making your body had enough. Punishing you by making you sleep for hours on end. Only getting enough energy for potty breaks and to eat something. Before sleeping again. It was getting so bad that you had to take some days off of work. You were shutting yourself inside your bedroom, determined to rest.
On your days having Ravage, you felt normal. Going through your day-to-day routine with no issues. Not getting irritated at Miguel or eating your weight in food.
Ravage hummed in your mind as you worked, feeling rejuvenated. “Should we tell you?”
“Hm?” You perked up, “Tell me what?”
A guttural growl erupted from the alien, “But if we tell you, there will be little intercourse.”
“What? Ravage, what are you talking about?”
There was silence on their end. You wondered if they were just ignoring you. But you finally got a response, “Nothing.”
You weren't sure how to take the mysterious behavior. You didn't see any concern for you to bring it up to Miguel. Only forgetting about it when your symptoms came back after handing Ravage back. Maybe it was time to go to the doctor's.
Miguel was close by as he took you to HQ's infirmary. He was worried that if it was something the symbiote was doing to you, no regular doctor could fix it. You sat on the cot, lowered eyes watching your husband pace around the room. Your stomach churned thinking about how you made him stress over you. Due to your stubbornness of not wanting to be seen. Hopefully, this was just a really bad cold so he wouldn't have to worry.
While explaining your symptoms, your spider-doctor, that's what you usually called them, lit up with an idea. And didn't elaborate further when saying they wanted to perform some tests. Miguel stayed by your side, holding your hand to calm himself for whatever's going on. He's usually touchy feely when he's nervous or stressed.
At what felt like hours, which was only 20 minutes, the doctor came back with the test results.
You were pregnant.
The doctor showed you the positive results so you could see with their own eyes. The bolded, green colored word succumbed to their vision. You was pregnant. They were going to have a baby.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the exciting news. For some reason, the idea was way below your thoughts as you didn't think you were showing any of the common symptoms. The spider-doctor reassured you that each person was different in terms of pregnancy. Some checked off all the boxes in terms of the symptoms. Others wouldn't even know if they were pregnant until their belly got bigger.
Miguel’s hand pressed against your stomach, face filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah.” You placed a hand on top of his, “We are.”
The doctor recommended you continue getting rest. The exhaustion will fade away in due time but other symptoms may appear. Heavy eating, nausea or vomiting, mood swings, and back pain. You were more concerned about work, knowing you didn't have infinite time to take off. You couldn't take off a bunch of times to rest. Miguel said he would take care of it, even offering to pay your salary if you didn’t have any time left.
In fact, once you got home, a flip switched inside him.
He was usually attentive, close by and understanding. Now he was that by tenfold. When you arrived home, he constantly asked how you were feeling. If you needed to lie down or eat. You let him fret over you as he carried you to bed. You were feeling peckish so he gave you a list of food he could get. So you settled on pizza.
Constant messages appeared saying congratulations. Someone must've heard the spider doctors give the news. Now your watch blew up with activity of spiders wishing you well. Multiple requests appeared, asking if they could babysit the baby once they were born. You particularly noticed ones from Ben who also ended up coming over to make sure he was the first person to be called to watch the baby. You couldn’t say no to those cute puppy dog eyes.
Jess also stopped by in person to congratulate you, just as excited at her baby finally having another kid to play with. She went over her entire pregnancy experience to give you some tips. How she had the weirdest cravings like pickles with chocolate ice cream. Or how her bump got in the way a few times. Although, you knew the experiences were going to be different at the fact you were talking to a superhero. Who still fought crime while pregnant with her baby. You weren't sure you could make it to the bathroom in your current state.
Peter B. and MJ also came over one day to offer endless amounts of advice when it comes to babies. And their own experience with Mayday.
“Peter had sympathetic pregnancy for a while.” MJ admitted, causing Miguel and you to raise their brows in surprise. “He was miserable around the last couple of months.”
“I swear to you, my back was hurting all the time. I was bloated and nauseous. I'm surprised we didn't have two babies when Mayday was born.”
You laughed at Peter, “Poor you.”
“Of course he'd get that.” Miguel shook his head, close to you as you all sat on the couch.
“Hey, don't be surprised when you suddenly start feeling gassy. I was just happy to finally relate to my lady.” Peter gave a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead.
The married couple also left tons of material involving babies for them to read. Self-help books, videos, even started giving them some of Mayday's baby clothes to help prepare. You were excited to finally start planning for the baby to arrive if you could stop feeling so tired first.
You were lucky to have a wonderful husband.
Miguel made it a point to do everything in the house. Cook and clean. Tidy up the house if it needs tending. He often did his part around the house when you weren't pregnant. Now, he insisted on doing everything for you. Emphasizing that your rest was important. That he wasn’t going to let you overexert yourself if he was there. All while caressing you for reassurance.
He had also gotten more handsy than usual.
He was constantly nearby when he didn’t have to work. A hand on your belly, gently pressing against it. His warmth comforted you and soothed any worries you might have had about the baby. Soon, his hand went upward, a feel of your breast and a grunt in your ear. His hips rocking against your plump bottom. You wiggled your ass against his in small reciprocation but a yawn combated your rising arousal.
That made him stop.
“You should get some rest, baby.”
You shook your head, “I'm fine, we can-” Another yawn occurred, denouncing any argument you had.
“Let’s just sleep.” Miguel kissed your forehead before leading you to bed. You noticed his bulge and your stomach twisted with guilt. Miguel was extremely understanding, not once making you feel bad of your decreased energy. But you knew it wouldn't last long. You had read those horror stories of husband’s not desiring their partner as they were pregnant. Which led to frustrations or cheating. You knew your husband wouldn’t ever do that to you. But you couldn’t help but worry.
You had a proposition for him after making out with your husband one evening. Miguel gazed at you with apparent lust as he groped and kissed you with a burning passion. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” He gave you a gentle kiss. “My wife is pregnant. Why wouldn't I be?”
Your fingers laced through his own, “I just thought you were nervous. Since we're going to be parents.”
“I am. The thought of us with a child excites me and scares me…” You could feel a ‘but’ coming as he continued, “but seeing you like this, gets me going. Like I want to make sure you stay pregnant.”
His crimson eyes lowered, entranced at the sight of your belly. It hasn't grown much yet, still early for you to be showing. A shiver went down your spine at his gaze, “Is this you talking or Ravage?”
“No, no I think this is all me.” Miguel pulled you in close, hands remaining on your hips. “I want to make sure you stay knocked up. Be by baby making machine…” You noticed his breathing getting heavier at him riling himself up. “But you've been tired and you have no obligation to indulge me. I'm not going to exhaust you out further.” That's when he reluctantly parted, showing some restraint.
“Well, I did have an idea.” You started to say. You had been talking about messing around while the other was asleep. It was consensual and only if the other was extremely tired and couldn't participate as much. You thought this would be a great time to try. “You have my permission to use me while I'm asleep.”
Miguel perked up, “Really?” You nodded, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me.” You nodded again, letting out a small laugh.
“I want to do this. Just be gentle. I'd rather not wake up to you jostling me all over the place.”
“I will.” He pulled you back in for a hug, holding you tight.
You thought this would be the beginning of him using you while you slept. But after a few days of permission, there was nothing. You felt the same after waking up for the day or from your naps. No clear evidence of you being fondled. No delightful warmness between your thighs. Miguel was cautious. You thought he wasn't ready to do that.
Until you had an incredible dream. One where he was behind you in bed, a leg draped across his arm, cock buried inside you. He was in his symbiote suit again as the large shaft was splitting you open. You heaved from the aching sensation, mind heavy and focused on him being inside. Whimpering his name as he gently thrusts into you.
Your walls are squeezing him as you climax, wrapped in bliss. He's never too far behind, his voice strained as he comes inside, lazy pumping into you to make sure not a drop is missed. The dream ended with a kiss and when you awoke, your body felt like liquid. Your attire was still the same, usually a pair of shorts with a large tshirt but your sex warm. Legs slightly sore and Miguel snoring peacefully from behind. A strong arm wrapped around the area where their child is forming.
You never caught the actions while you slept. Your dreams gave you a clear indication of what he was doing to you. Giving you satisfaction while also ensuring he didn't wake you.
Slowly, your exhaustion started to fade. The need for naps lessened, but you were still tired. So when you took a nap on the couch, that pleasant dream was coming back again. This time Miguel was buried between your legs, tasting you like there was no tomorrow. You sighed in relief before waking up to see the real thing.
The hunched position of his symbiote form over the armrest of the couch. Spreading your legs wide and pinning you down against the cushions to keep you still. Miguel made it a mission to remember every taste of you, his long tongue running along your folds, stimulating your clit.
“Miguel…” You moaned, eyes lowered at the sight. His head raised, eyes boring into yours in lust.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
“It's fine.” You muttered, “Don't stop…” You pushed his head back down and he obliged. The small lick and sucking sounds would make you blush if you weren't half asleep. But the occasional growl against your sex made you curl your toes. You sighed, feeling your body warm up. Your fingers dug into the pillow under you while you shifted under his hold. Miguel continued to press further into you, moaning against your sex like a starved man.
That familiar feeling pooled in your stomach, your breaths getting short. Lips parting to release the sound of ecstacy. Creating warmth around your frame. You weren't sure how long Miguel was eating you out as his mouth shined in the light.
“You should continue to get some rest.” Miguel’s gigantic frame towered over you, the sofa creaking from the weight. “I can take care of you.”
Your mind was long gone as his hips rolled against yours, entering you slowly. Hard thrusts savoring the moment. Watching you sleepily cry out for him below, the grip on his bicep non-existent. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you begged for him to not stop.
“We're gonna make sure our kid has a sibling.” He grunted, face twisted in pleasure. “A brother? A sister? Maybe if we're lucky, twins…”
You gasped, arching your back as another climax took you by surprise. Miguel’s own thrusts started to falter, his cum shooting inside quicker than he could blink. Once again he made sure you took it all, not missing a single drop.
He buried his face on your head, the symbiote suit disappearing and showing off his naked form. Miguel held you close as if he missed the heat from your skin. “I'm sorry…I really didn't mean to wake you.”
Your heart melted at his large eyes filled with guilt.
“It's okay. It was nice to wake up to.” Your lips found his again to give a soft kiss. Miguel lifted you up, still adamant on making sure she had enough sleep by carrying her to the bedroom.
Soon, you were starting to show. And your energy was back to normal. No more sleeping all day. Your mind became clearer. Which made you finally think about your extra guest.
Miguel said he'd get rid of Ravage after it was clear you were pregnant. Yet, it’s been a few months since then and the symbiote was still here. No one brought it up so of course you had to be the one to do it.
“So? When is Ravage leaving?” Miguel paused in the middle of his work, not saying anything for a bit. You could tell they were speaking as the silence lingered in his lab. “Miguel-”
“Ravage thought they could stay a little longer. At least until the baby is born.” He interrupted.
You purse your lips, “That's not what we agreed on.”
Your tone didn't match up with your words. In all honesty, you didn't want Ravage to go. It was bad enough Miguel had to cut off them from being attached to you after you got pregnant. Not wanting to affect the baby. But you missed them. Feeding them chocolate bars or hot cocoa. Keeping you company when Miguel had to work late. It was odd to develop a decent relationship with an alien but you had to remind yourself that your entire life was weird.
“We won't cause any harm to the child.” Ravage came out to say. “Your husband's been making us watch baby videos. Their laughs are infectious.”
Your brows furrowed at the thought of the symbiote watching baby videos, “You serious?”
“Yes.” They said, “We have no urge to eat the baby anymore.”
“Anymore.” You pointed out, “That means you thought about it.”
“Multiple times.”
Miguel quickly cut in, “But they said they don't want to do that now.” He held your hands, “You know I don't want anything to happen to this baby, right?” You squeezed his hands, believing him wholeheartedly. “I promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to our kid. Trust me. Trust us.”
“You know I do.” You embraced him, head in his chest.
Somehow, that comforted you. You agreed to at least let them stay until the baby was born. Although, in the back of your mind, you had a feeling they may be keeping them much longer than that.
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latteandjacks · 2 days
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"They should've made an emphasis on Sallie May being trans before" "There should be things that openly indicate she's trans aside from the horns" "The merch shouldn't show her with a bulge if she's trans, logically she should hide it"
My brother in Christ shut the fuck up
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Aight, I get where most of you are coming from but let me just say that Sallie May is a big breath of fresh air from a lot of canon trans rep I've been seeing in the internet about big projects such as Helluva Boss, let's go point from point
This contains spoilers from Hell's Belles
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Sallie May is a transgender Imp, this is not something that was decided just now for the short as her first appearance in the moon harvest festival already shows her with the thick line horns (Which are exclusively from AMAB (Assigned Male at Birth) Imps
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If there's only one point these people made that I agree with is the fact that the horns thing should be something implied in the show, not specifically with the intention of outing a trans character but something simple that could give more context for those who do not check the wikis or the social medias that often
Other than that, I feel like they haven't actually meet a trans person irl because they believe that her being trans should be something that everyone should catch the first time they see her, that someone should inmeditaly point out she's trans, yet, they get upset at the fact that she's proudly showing a bulge on the merchandise They want the show to scream verbally about her being trans but not casually
You have no idea how relieved I felt when, at no point in the episode, her being trans was mentioned or outed, none pointed out her horns or voice and instead the problem was her feeling left out of her sister's life, and, again, not because she's trans and feels like Millie doesn't view her the same or some bullshit, but because Millie doesn't go home as often and felt a bit mad when she had to do her work In fact! Her not getting genitalia reconstructive surgery is also a thing that is cool about her, she got tits but didn't chop off the dick and is not insecure about it, most of times trans people are put between not getting surgery or getting ALL of the surgeries AND being extremely insecure about their genitalia, and yes, there's a lot of trans people that feel that way, but I think that aspect of her is really good representation for those that don't want to get surgery or only want to either reduce or enlarge their chest, not everyone gets dysphoria the same way and this doesn't make her less of a woman for that
Even if it's okay to have characters where one of the main issue of the comes from being trans (I have a few myself), It's also nice to see character that are trans but the main issue with their life comes from something completely different and not related
So for people upset about her passing so well you can't immediately tell she's trans Surprise! That's a lot of us want, that's what a lot trans people irl try, to just be a person of the gender we really are, to be normal and not needing to always out of ourselves, to be treated the same no matter what I make a lot of jokes about my lack of dick and my excess of tits, I only out myself as trans when formally presenting to someone and that is just because I'm not allowed to be trans so I don't pass as a boy at all and need to specify, but me being trans is something that most of my friend only bring into the conversation to make a friendly joke or when I bring it up
Sallie May is not only good representation, is one of the best I've seen in a while in the modern adult media, because she's subtle yet obvious You may not like Viv (Me too girl /non gendered), but I got to give it to her, the lgbt+ representation she does is on point
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Anyways now that I tackled down that issue is time to actually talks about this short as a whole see ya
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penelopepine · 1 day
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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 3
Part 2 Part 3
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
For the first time in a long time Simon wasn't glad to be leaving his flat. Every other time he would have already been out the door and on his way back to the base. Instead he's sitting at his table nursing a cup of tea at 5am; trying to take in as much as he can before leaving for who knows how long. 
You and Simon had said your goodbyes to each other last night per his request. He didn't want you having to be up this early when you still had to wake up for work in just a couple hours. Which was something that made him worried to think about. He had been walking with you everyday, and this was going to be his first time not doing that with you. You were going to start doing a lot of things without him now though. 
Simon was sure in just a couple weeks of him being gone you'll have forgotten all about him and moved on in life. Sure he had your phone number now, but he's not going to be able to communicate with you for long periods whenever he's out on a mission. He'll become the neighbor who shows up every once in a while, and no longer your friend. He just knew it. 
A sudden knock at his door broke him of these thoughts. He cautiously approached the door; there were only two options he could think of for who was at the door. Either it was someone who was here to try and hurt him or it was you. 
He looked through the peephole and once he had confirmed who it was he opened the door.
It was you. Of course it was you, as much as he wished you had listened and were instead asleep right now; Simon was happy to see you. Standing in the doorway with a wide grin on your face, and holding a box. 
"Simon! I'm so glad I managed to catch you before you left," You hold out the box towards him, "here this is for you as well!" 
Simon softly says your name before grabbing the box from you and letting you step inside, “What’s this? Also shouldn’t you be asleep right now. I thought we agreed to say goodbye last night.” 
“You did say that, but I never agreed to it!” You step inside giving him a soft shoulder bump, “and that is a gift that you are not allowed to open until you get back to base.” 
With a small smile on his face Simon gives a huff, “I suppose I should’ve known better to think that you would’ve listened.” 
“I’ll listen when it’s important, but you never could’ve stopped me from being up and walking you out to the car. It’ll be like our normal walks except I’m walking you to work this time.” 
Simon will deny it to everyone, even himself, but he felt so cared for in that moment. Here you were at 5am wanting to be with him to the last second. Not because you had to or worked together, but simply because you wanted to. 
"Should I expect an escort from the car to the building when I return as well?"
"Just tell me when to be there and I will." 
He hopes you keep your word on that. Before anything else can be said his phone pings, "It seems my car is here." 
You give him a sad smile as the two of you head to the door. "I'm going to call and text you by the way; you're not going to get rid of me this easily." 
"I won't always be able to reply." He wasn't going to lie and say the two of you would always be in constant communication. That would only lead to hurt for both of you, "but I'll try to when I can." 
"That's ok, besides who else am I going to get to listen to me ramble about my day?" 
"Then I look forward to your 20 minute voicemail messages then, love." 
The rest of the walk to the car is passed with you telling Simon what plans you have coming up, and that he shouldn't worry about his place since you'll hold down the fort for him while he's gone. 
You stood silently now standing by his side as he put his bag in the trunk. Looking at you he can clearly see a glassy look in your eyes as you look up at him. 
"Can- can I get a hug before you go?" You nervously ask. 
You and Simon had exchanged shoulder bumps, back pats, and side hugs at most. Never have the two of you given the other a real hug. It took just a moment to think before Simon was opening up his arms towards you. Instantly you rush forward and you both stand there for a moment holding on to each other. 
“Be safe.” You whisper before letting go, and taking a step back. Letting Simon get inside the car. 
He watched up for as long as he could; memorizing you to mind. When he couldn’t see you any longer Simon took a deep breath, and slipped back to what he was most comfortable with. Being the ghost he was once more. 
-
“Aye, Lt. good to see you again! How was your time off?” Johnny of course was there right as soon as he stepped back on base. Normally he’d appreciate it, but right now all he wants is to get to his room. You said he couldn’t open the package till he got here, and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to. 
“It was fine.” Simon says as he walks past the other, “I’ll meet up with you later Johnny.” 
“You better! I have a lot of gossip that I need to catch you up on.” 
“Copy that.” 
He didn’t stop walking till the door to his room was firmly shut behind him.  Placing his bag down he sat at the desk and opened the box. 
Inside was a small container, a bracelet, and a letter. Pulling out the container first he opened it to find the little thing filled with cookies and a note on top. 
“I know you have a secret sweet tooth! Hope you enjoy these!” The note read. It was hard for him to not smile at that. He didn’t know that you had noticed that about him; it was actually something he tried to hide from you. 
The bracelet was clearly homemade by you. It is made up of black and gray beads, and a small silver pendant the shape of a heart. He runs his fingers over the pendant feeling the smooth cool surface before he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. He’ll cover it with his sleeves or put it in his pocket when he’s not in his own personal space. 
A thought pops into Simon’s head as looks at it; taking out his phone he takes a quick photo of the bracelet and sends it to you. Along with a text thank you for the cookies as well. 
Looking back in the box there was only the letter left. This was the item that made him the most nervous to look at. Very carefully though he opened it. 
“Simon,  
The very first day I met you I was so worried that you were there to yell at me. That I had already messed up a relationship with one of my neighbors, but you had surprised me. You offered to help me, and I said yes. 
That was the best decision I could have made. Having you as my friend will never be a mistake. I’m going to miss you while you’re gone, but rest assured as soon as you get back home I’ll make you whatever you want!
Make sure to stay safe out there and bring me back any cool rocks you find!
Sincerely, 
Your favorite neighbor!”
Reading the letter he couldn’t help but think about every moment he spent with you; noting to himself how different everything seems to be now in his life. He never thought he would meet someone like you that made him feel a certain way. 
With something akin to horror Simon realized what that feeling was, he liked you, he wanted you to be his. Somehow you had dug yourself into his heart, and made a home. 
Taglist:
@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole
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liveontelevision · 11 hours
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Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader
The time has come, babes, this could be the final part
I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
♡♡♡
"I'll see you, Lucifer."
"I hope so."
Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?
Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.
But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.
Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 
3:01PM
"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.
— 
You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.
Speaking of,
"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.
"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.
Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 
"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.
"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.
"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.
"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.
As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.
"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel?��
"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.
"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.
"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.
"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.
"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.
"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.
"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.
"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.
After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.
Purple always looked good on you.
"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.
"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.
"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.
"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 
Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.
"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.
"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.
"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.
"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.
"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.
"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.
"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.
"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.
You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.
The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.
You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.
The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.
"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.
Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.
"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.
"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.
Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.
Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.
The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.
Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.
"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.
You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.
"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.
"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.
Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.
Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.
He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.
"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.
"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.
"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.
You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.
You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?
"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.
You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.
"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.
His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.
"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?
"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.
"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.
"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.
"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.
"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.
"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.
Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.
Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.
"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.
"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.
Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.
Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..
A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.
The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.
Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.
Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.
"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.
"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.
"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.
"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.
What just happened?
"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.
♡♡♡
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lmao jk there's more parts coming
( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )
!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee
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sflow-er · 1 day
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I heard people are mad because they feel like August should be apologizing to Simon also, and I think that’s like, a no-brainer because of course he will – – he’s changed now. He’s not the same person who did that thing so – – we saw him suffer and now he apologized to Wille whom he knows and then – – I’m sure when [August and Simon] meet, he’s going to talk to [Simon] about it too. Linnéa Roxeheim, director of S3 eps 5& 6, PRP interview 59:00-59:22 (– – used for legibility, the redacted phrase is 'you know')
So...this kind of seems to confirm something I've been thinking since I watched the season: the lack of apology from August to Simon feels less like an intentional, character-defining writing choice and more like a mishap overlooking or even retconning the August-Simon conflict.
Some thoughts under the cut.
That conflict was one of the central building blocks and driving forces back in S1. Simon wouldn't have ended up selling drugs if it wasn't for August looking to buy, Wille wouldn't have found out about August's finances and been able to use them against him, and Alexander would not have been framed to save Simon. And for that matter, August's eagerness to pin the blame on Simon was likely fuelled by the fact that he wasn't just a sosse sleeping with Wille, but also a constant thorn in August's side. Someone who had even physically roughed August up at one point.
Still, I do believe August's decision to post the video mainly concerned Wille. I've written about that too many times to rehash it again; let's just take his dismissive reaction when Sara says Simon is distraught in S1E6 at face value. And that made perfect sense for his character, considering his only moral code at the time was (elite) loyalty.
However. From S2 on, the history between August and Simon has been sidelined, and the focus has been on the conflict between August and Wille.
We didn't see Simon suffer any more daily consequences from the video in S2. He could already sing karaoke in Bjärstad without people giving him dirty looks, and both the rumour mill at Hillerska and the hate comments online had stopped. Not being allowed to sing his song at the Jubilee was a concrete consequence, but even that felt more like an obstacle for Wilmon and an opportunity for Wille to stand up for them. Simon and August barely even interacted over the season - but at least Simon did refer to Sara knowing everything August had done to him in the gun range scene, so that was something.
I had hoped for the August-Simon conflict to be picked up again in S3. Even if the writers wanted to focus on other relationships and tensions, to me, it felt too essential to pass up. It would have been a clear sign of August learning the accountability and empathy that he needed to grow, and it would have also provided some much-needed closure for Simon (and tied the series together as a whole). I guess the writers felt differently.
Even though the focus on Simon getting hate on social media again could have provided an easy tie-in, the vile hate messages focused on his and Wille's relationship, as well as him being a POC. Apart from Linda's comment in the settlement negotiation, I don't think the video was even mentioned once in all the hate comments we saw. There was no indication of the media or the public having dragged it back up either (or asked who filmed and leaked it, but that's another matter entirely). Nor were there any references to Simon having already received some hate after the leak - on the contrary, it seemed like he was completely blindsided by all the vitriol. I do realise that the scale was much bigger this time around, but still.
Circling back to the August-Simon conflict, there's also another aspect that is easily overlooked. Namely, that Simon himself actually seemed pretty content to just put all his dealings with August to rest after the settlement was finalised. The only time the two of them even interacted after that was all about Sara. It could have also been an opportunity to show Simon's own feelings, but that didn't materialise.
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Simon could still use that apology, but I never got the impression that he needed it the way we fans needed to see it. Based on S3, you might even think their only source of conflict was Simon coincidentally being on the video, and when that was settled, Simon was okay just moving on with his life.
Which brings me back to the ending.
I always figured that August was portrayed as genuinely remorseful towards the end. Yes, I would have liked to see more of his growth and development (even just showing his reaction to the sale of Årnäs instead of having Simon say that Wille said it was a fitting punishment would've worked wonders)... But the authorial intent seemed to be that he had already taken enough steps. His and Wille's reconciliation was as sincere as anything could get, with Wille not forgiving him as such but agreeing to move on, start healing, and even wish each other well. Wille was sincere when he congratulated August upon graduation and tapped him as the next king, thinking he was well suited for the job (it's the narrative that frames it as a sort of punishment, not Wille).
Crucially, Simon doesn't seem bothered by this. If both Wille and August had truly just ignored the harm caused to Simon and reconciled amongst themselves, with Wille essentially giving August the position that everyone but August still thought was all August ever wanted...while Simon was still hurting and needing the closure of an apology...well. That would actually make Wille look like kind of a terrible partner even right at the end, which clearly wasn't the intention.
We can't be sure if Wille told Simon about the reconciliation when they talked at the lake, but Simon will still know that Wille stepping down means August stepping up, and he is happy about it. Wilmon are off to start a new chapter in their lives, and we don't get the feeling that the lack of an apology to Simon is left as an unresolved issue between them (or between them and August).
So...yeah. I guess I'm just trying to point out that this seems to be another example of a previously important plot line being dropped from S3, and to a lesser degree, also another example of execution vs. authorial intent.
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livingformintyoongi · 8 hours
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The Han Family | Min Yoongi
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Summary: You and Yoongi were together during high school. He was only a year older than you, but that never mattered to you. You both fit in perfectly; you had the cheerfulness and positivity that Yoongi lacked, and he had the patience and seriousness that you lacked. You were together until Yoongi entered his second year of college, both of you decided to end on good terms. You never stopped loving him, and deep down you thought he hadn't completely forgotten you either. Despite keeping that deep love that you were sure you would never get over, you decided to go on with your life, seeing more people, having more casual loves, until the arrival of Jumyeon, the Han's eldest son, and the person who would end up signing your death sentence. It had been more than 10 years since you last saw Yoongi, and meeting him again because of your father-in-law's murder was definitely not the way you expected to see him again. wc: 2.9k
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You were upset, no, probably upset would be putting it mildly, you were furious. You couldn't believe that your boyfriend, the one you wasted four fucking years of your life for, was cheating on you for over two years, and worse, with his best friend, that same girl he practically forced you to meet because he wanted his girlfriend and best friend to be close. At least his "friend" had the basic human decency to confess to you that she was messing with him for years. 
"I picked your favorite restaurant, I had a hard time making a reservation" Jumyeon said, smiling at you as cheerfully as possible. You almost grimaced, but you tried to control yourself, you were supposed to be a mature woman, for god's sake, you were almost 30, you should be able to have control over yourself.
"Thank you, that's a very nice gesture" you murmured, drinking all the wine in your glass. This didn't even make it into the top 10 of your favorite restaurants. You hated the way they cooked their meat, and you knew the owner in person (who was close friends with Jumyeon), it wasn't much better than their supposedly quality food.
You looked at the large window next to you. The only thing worthwhile about this place was the view of the Han River. It was a sight worth seeing.
"I already placed the order, so all we have left to do is wait" he pulled out his phone for a second, but put it away as quickly as he took it. You assumed she was his mistress, or should you say "friend"?
"Okay" you leaned forward, resting your head on your hands. You wanted to wait for the right moment to tell him, as gently as possible, to go fuck himself.
You listened to him ramble on about his job for what seemed like hours. You had never cared about his work, but at least you heard him, you had the basic respect for him that couples should have. Now that he had disrespected you in such a way, why listen to his complaints? You owed him nothing, no more.
"Oh, thanks for the food," your boyfriend said in a cheerful tone. 
Only then did you pay attention to what was in front of you. The waiter lifted the plate cover carefully, looking at both of you at the same time. He was probably a hopeless romantic.
Unlike him, you just felt nauseous enough to make you lean forward. This man seriously sucked.
"Y/N" he approached you, pulling a red velvet box out of his pocket. "These years by your side have been the happiest of my life" If he was so happy, why did he cheat on you? "I knew you would be the love of my life the moment I saw you", and that's why he was so eager for you to change to his liking instead of letting you be yourself, "and I couldn't have been more right, because, honestly, I can't see a future where you're not" he sank to one knee, bringing out a ring that looked way too ostentatious. You wanted to throw it in his face. "And I know deep down you feel the same way I do, so please do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world. Marry me."
You stared at him, clenching your fists so tightly that your palms were starting to hurt. You turned to look at the dessert the waiter had camouflaged with the plate cover. A big "Will you marry me?" was written in the center. 
And suddenly, your immature side came out. You could no longer contain your urge to punch this jerk.
"Marry you?" you muttered, taking the small cake with which he tried to propose to you. You smiled almost helplessly. "Did you seriously just ask me that?".
Jumyeon laughed, standing up from the floor and looking at you with a shit-eating grin.
"Well, I know you'll say yes, but I thought that-".
You didn't let him continue, you didn't want to keep hearing his voice, so you did the first thing that popped into your head. You threw the dessert in his face and scrubbed it until there was nothing left. And, my god, it felt so satisfying.
"How can you ask me that after spending the afternoon with your so-called friend?" you growled, leaving the plate of cake on the table. "Are you so unmanly that you need to play with two women at once!?".
You ignored the murmurs from the audience, you didn't want to draw their attention, but you were too upset to speak softly, and he was the one who decided to do this in a public place.
"What? Is your brain not capable of coming up with excuses in such a short time?" you swept him with your eyes, feeling disgusted. "Never mind, I have no interest in listening to your lies anymore anyway." 
You grabbed your purse and pulled out your wallet, throwing a few bills in his face, "So you can pay the bill." 
And you left, ignoring his screams and insults. 
And, for the first time in years, you felt free.
You smiled big as you approached the elevator, and when you came within shouting distance of excitement, a guy a little taller than you knocked you to the floor. 
You complained quietly, taking the hand he offered you, but not seeing his face. You were too happy to complain to him.
"Sorry, I didn't look where I was walking" you gave a little bow, ready to leave. Until you felt a hand stop on your wrist.
"Y/N?"
For the first time since you collided you noticed the man standing in front of you, and shit, how you wished you hadn't crossed paths with him just then.
"Yoongi" you muttered, feeling your throat dry. He looked even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. 
"You look... different" he said softly, letting go of your wrist, but not taking his gaze away from you.
"You too" you tried to smile, but you felt too uncomfortable to do so.You were embarrassed for Yoongi to see you like this. "You're back to black" you hastened to say, pointing to his hair. 
It looked much longer and shinier than the last time you saw it, and it fit him like a glove. If his intention was to make women like you want to tangle their fingers in it, he had more than succeeded.
"And you cut it" he moved his hand up to your mane. Your hair reached only a few inches below your chin, a far cry from the long, unruly style you had when you were still his girlfriend and you swore to him that you would never cut it because it was your most prized possession.
Now you feel even sillier.
"I wanted to try a new style" you nodded quickly, fiddling with the strap of your purse.You were back to feeling like a stupid teenager incapable of talking to the boy she likes. To a certain extent it was true. You were never able to get over Yoongi, you don't think you ever will at some point."But I didn't like it as much as I thought I would" you sighed, tightening the strap on your bag.
"You-?"
"Chaeyoung!" your now ex-boyfriend shouted as he ran in the direction of you and Yoongi. It didn't escape your notice that before he noticed Yoongi's presence, he was coming over annoyed enough to slap you. You saw his hand clenched tightly."What the hell was that ruckus earlier, do you know how many cameras were in the place, how many important people were there?".
"Well, maybe you should have thought your proposal through better" for a moment you completely forgot that it wasn't just the two of you in the hallway, but you didn't care.That son of a bitch deserved someone to put him in his place, and you wanted so badly to be that person yourself. "Or to have fucking zipped your pants when it belonged, or am I wrong? Because if so, say so to me and Minah for that matter, because she feels the same way I do too."
You watched as he fixed his gel-covered hair, turning away for a second to catch his breath."It was an accident, understand? It's not how she painted it."
"An accident over two years old? Can you explain to me how that works? Did you just happen to fall on her and coincidentally your penis went into her because you both happened to be unclothed in the same fucking hotel room?" you laughed listlessly, crossing your arms, "Don't you dare think I'm stupid enough to turn blind eyes to something that's been going on for years."
Yoongi, who had been silent until that moment, cleared his throat, moving forward to stand beside you. You took a breath, trying to maintain your composure in front of him. It was quite a difficult task.
"Are you Han Jumyeon by any chance?" he muttered in a monotone voice staring at your ex-boyfriend. It came to scare you a bit how cold his gaze seemed. Still you thought he was attractive.Very attractive.
"Yes" he looked at Yoongi from head to toe, he looked a little confused, but he was used to that kind of question. He was one of the most well-known businessmen in South Korea, he was in the news quite a bit, so it wasn't strange that he knew him. "Who are you?"
"Officer Min Yoongi" he pulled out his badge from his shirt pocket, "I am one of the people in charge of the investigation of Mr. Han's death, I need both you and your..." his gaze paused for a moment on you before turning back to Jumyeon, "ex-girlfriend come to the police station so I can question you."
"Did you say death?" you looked at Yoongi and then at Jumyeon, covering your mouth with your hand. You wished the worst for that... man, if that's what you could call him, but that didn't mean you wished his father had died in whatever circumstance. If Yoongi was involved in this, it meant it wasn't from natural causes. 
"What are you talking about? My father died? When? How?" he brought his hands to his hair, tugging on it lightly. "You said you were an officer, didn't you? So that means it wasn't an accident?"
You wondered internally if Yoongi saw the same twisted smile you saw.
You saw how he nodded slowly, his impassive gaze stopping on Jumyeon. He didn't seem to pity him, let alone empathize, in fact, if you still had your wonderfully useless abilities to understand Yoongi, he even seemed annoyed with him. Maybe he thought he was guilty? You would think so too after seeing the expression from earlier.
"As I told you before, I need to take you to the police station right now, we need to ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Han, I would appreciate it if you could cooperate as much as possible."
You nodded quickly, moving a little closer to Yoongi, "Did you come by car? Mine is in the parking lot."
"Don't worry, we'll go in mine," he murmured, barely brushing his fingers on your back, "go to the elevator first, I'll go next to Jumyeon."
You obeyed his command, walking to the elevator and waiting for it to reach your floor. You thundered your finger bones as you moved your left leg. You were still a bit in shock with the news, you were trying to think through your next move with Jumyeon, you didn't think things through very well before throwing the dessert in his face and shouting to the four winds that he was unfaithful to you with his best friend.
You turned to look at your ex-boyfriend, who stood next to Yoongi stiffly. He looked in your direction every so often, but averted his gaze immediately. Yoongi, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed on you the entire time you were looking at them. It kept causing your stomach to churn and your heart to flip. 
The sound of the elevator forced you to look away from both men. To your surprise, no one was inside it, which, on the one hand, was wonderful, as you wouldn't have to put up with the strong smell of expensive perfume and conversations between strangers that sounded too empty. But, on the other hand, you had to be alone with those other two.
You shook your head, trying to get that stupid thought out of your head, and entered the elevator followed by Yoongi and Jumyeon. You convinced yourself that the tense atmosphere was due to the news Yoongi gave you, but deep down you knew it wasn't so. 
You knew your ex like the palm of your hand, you knew when he was genuinely sad and when he was not. You were aware that he wasn't feeling depressed at all, but he was angry, probably at you and whoever had attacked his father. You tried to avoid the idea of him being that way with you.
You brought your thumb to your mouth, biting your nail. Jumyeon's gaze on you was starting to feel too stinging and the fear started to grow as your head generated worst case scenarios. You had such a good imagination when it came to going against you.
The brush of fingers on your right hand made you jump in place. You turned to see who it was, and almost cried with happiness when you noticed it was only Yoongi. He discreetly caressed the knuckles of your hand, completely avoiding looking at you. 
You had forgotten how good it felt to have someone who could read your body language so easily that just by looking at you or listening to you, he would understand that you were having a hard time. Yoongi was the only person you dated who could accomplish that. Maybe that was one of the reasons why you still weren't able to forget him.
You stopped biting your nail, concentrating on Yoongi's touch on your skin. It brought back so many memories. 
"We'll talk at home about earlier" Jumyeon murmured, glancing sideways at you, "I think you're still a little confused."
"I'm not" you replied on impulse, staring at him, were you afraid? Obviously, was that going to stop you from telling him to his face? Of course not. "I gave you my answer, now act like a man for the first time in your life and accept it" you growled under your breath, holding back the urge you had to spit in his face.
You listened as Yoongi cleared his throat, and you knew he was doing it to camouflage his laughter. You didn't care, you would have done the same thing in his place.
"Stop fucking around and just say yes" Jumyeon turned to look at you, and if looks killed, you'd be on the floor, bleeding out, dying, you'd be a ghost. 
"Why don't you shut up? Your voice is annoying, it makes my head hurt" Yoongi muttered, this time taking your hand firmly. 
You internally prayed that Jumyeon wouldn't see it, you didn't want any more trouble than you already had.
The rest of the time in the elevator was in silence. Being so many floors it took you a few minutes to get down. They were the worst minutes of your life.
"We'll go in my car" Yoongi looked at Jumyeon before exiting the elevator. Holding hands with you. In front of him.
You saw out of the corner of your eye how his face distorted at the sight of your hands together. You reminded yourself that you didn't owe him any explanation. You had done nothing wrong, so why should you justify yourself? You nodded mentally, trying to encourage yourself.
Yoongi took out his key and unlocked his car. It was big and black, too shiny. You smiled as you remembered Yoongi always talked about how, when he had money, he would buy a nice apartment and a black car that looked so amazing that any teenager at his age would want one like that.
He let go of you for a moment only to open the passenger door and help you in. You screamed internally.
Jumyeon got in after you, to the back seats obviously, and before Yoongi got in and could hear him he came up to your ear.
"Wait till we get home, you fucking hypocritical bitch" he growled under his breath, returning to his seat as soon as Yoongi entered.
You looked down at your hands, staring at the nail you bit earlier. You didn't do anything wrong, you're not like him, you repeated yourself over and over, trying to ignore the pressure in your chest.
You leaned your head against the car window, watching as he started to move and head for the exit of the parking lot. You just closed your eyes, wanting to get to the station later to give your statement and get as far away from that man as possible.
You wiped away an unruly tear that dared to fall down your cheeks. He's not worth it, you told yourself, not anymore.
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fudge24-7 · 3 months
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why would you be chased off tumblr for liking a taylor swift song lmao
I was joking, I just know a lot of the people I end up around on tumblr hate Taylor swift
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i want my girlfriend to come home but i don’t think i even know who she is 
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck#good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen#im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3#writeblr#the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this''#and like also#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine#and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion''#so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3#she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh#ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance#i'd crash on the table#like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it#and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop!#and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just#woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes#she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room#from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing#and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying#and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap#with this terrible memory#i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like#that was too many liters#and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home#i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after#that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty#you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it#while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED#and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k] 
fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision. 
You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice. 
You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.
"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick." 
You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?" 
You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?" 
"What?" 
"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.
He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound. 
"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges." 
Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer. 
"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you." 
"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you." 
"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you." 
Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool. 
"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.
"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."
"Not like that." 
Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?" 
Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too. 
"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?" 
His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?" 
"Did you?" 
You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely. 
"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time." 
He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to. 
You've never had one?
"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm. 
"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt." 
The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second. 
"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight. 
You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours. 
"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks. 
Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it. 
He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like." 
You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay." 
"Yeah?" 
"It doesn't hurt?" 
"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign." 
You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do. 
The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out. 
"You're gonna have to sit in my lap." 
You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke. 
"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though." 
You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.
He doesn't scare you. 
He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies. 
You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned. 
"Do me a favour?" he asks. 
"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively. 
"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too." 
"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest. 
"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please." 
"I'm really warm." 
"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there. 
You take a deep breath. 
"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone. 
You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls. 
He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side. 
"Look up," he murmurs. 
You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes. 
He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.  
You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake. 
This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair. 
It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore. 
Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight. 
He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters. 
He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face. 
"Why does it feel like that?" you ask. 
He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?" 
You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch. 
"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.
"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please." 
He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs. 
When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.
Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?" 
"What for?" 
"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him. 
This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.
When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel. 
"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?" 
"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it. 
"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?" 
"I didn't know they weren't real." 
"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up." 
Your mind blanks. 
"Make sure I can hide it," you say. 
You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole. 
"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 
You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.
He sees you looking. 
He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return. 
Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't. 
His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.
"Is that really what you want?" he asks.
"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?
It has to be. 
"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?" 
"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light. 
Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens. 
"Was that so hard?" he asks. 
"You knew?"
He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness. 
"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have." 
"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.
"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you." 
He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself. 
"I'm not good?" you ask. 
"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all." 
You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders. 
This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.
You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face. 
You pant. He shushes you gently.
"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks. 
Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped. 
Wiped, but good. Lax. 
"That was nice," you say breathlessly. 
Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile. 
"You're like a dead fish." 
You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over." 
"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started." 
Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth. 
"Are you messing with me?" you ask.
He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug. 
"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked." 
You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.
"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened. 
"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.
"That's a good idea." 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve
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xiaowhore · 4 months
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intoxicating.
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premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
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Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
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“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
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When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
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sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
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Some Guy Bingo
Masterpost.
Nearly three months into (what Jason called) The Haunting, the siblings kinda started a game. (“Either we're haunting him or he's haunting us, I haven't decided yet." "Considering he's the one appearing randomly, I'd say he's haunting us.")
Technically Tim had started it with, “five bucks says Danny went to class today.” (Gotham university was having an out break of fear toxin curtesy of Dr. Crane.) However, it was Jason who kicked it off with, “ten if he says something about actual scarecrows.”
Dick had snorted and said, “fifteen if it’s a personal experience about a farm.”
“I call bingo if he makes a vague statement on agriculture.” So it was actually Steph who started it.
“Bingo? We were placing bets.”
“Unlike you Hood, some people don’t get adopted by money.”
“As if Bruce doesn’t give you an allowance.”
(“As if he didn’t offer to adopt you,” Tim tacked on.)
It became a running joke where they started calling out "bingo if -" whenever they had to go out on a call. The joke had later formed into a running game when Danny had told Cass, “fighting gods is a pass-time, it is humanity that the real fight is against.” (He had trip over a curb and laid on the ground for several minutes before she asked if he was okay.) She said it wasn’t the most concerning thing he said to her and Steph chimed in claiming, “on a scale of one to ten that statement rates at a three.”
Jason had asked why Cass and Steph always got the weird ambiguous statements and he got cryptic shit about his “soul”.
(Damian had pointed out that at least he wasn’t being constantly referred to as a baby.)
I Call Bingo, which they still played whenever a situation required more than one of them, became “on a scale”
Dick was sure that “having given up on optimism, I find your enthusiasm to be overly bright” should be ranked higher then “I don’t like two-stepping but I’m from the mid-west, so do you know how to line dance?” (Danny and Duke had gotten into an awkward side step where they kept blocking each other.) Damian said the wording seemed passive-aggressive but the tone was too positive to be rude so he gave it a three. Jason said it sounded like a bad pick up line and gave it a two.
They often debated and defended the score they gave with Barbara chiming in over coms. She had never met Danny as Oracle but he was a regular at the public library. He was always polite and respectful and had quickly become one of her favorite patrons. Like Steph and Cass she also got odd statements but hers felt more like half-hearted jokes.
Bruce didn't always join in on their game but it wasn't surprising to see the occasional score placed in their reports. (They had a file dedicated to Danny's remarks. Originally it was to keep track of what they knew about him but at this point it was just to let the others know what he said this time.) Alfred was roped into it even if he didn't really participate unless asked. ("Hey Alfie, what would you give 'i'm glad i don't have to fight my food to eat it but if Batburger keeps giving me the wrong thing I'm summoning Lunch Lady.' Cause Tim says two but I think it's a five.") (He gave it a four.)
Post 4
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aptericia · 3 months
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Not proud to be here.
--
Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.
The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.
It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.
Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.
And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"
Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.
--
On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.
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shaisuki · 2 months
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SHIT! THAT HURTS, BUT IT'S AN ACCIDENT. RIGHT, SWEETHEART?
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ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru
content warnings ─── noncon, dacryphilia, implied kidnapping, punishments, forced affection, choking, stockholm syndrome, blood, forced marriage, delusions.
ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ accidents do happen. that's why you accidentally hit them but thank the heavens above, they understand. it would be easier if you just let them do what they want.
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GOJO SATORU
the accumulated perspiration coming from the deepest end of your dermis shows it appearance as it runs down to your forehead. goosebumps rising as you felt his presence getting nearer. there's no blood lust or the imminent danger that tells your mind to run. accustomed from the conditioning your body had done every time you sense his presence.
your grip on the edge of your book gets tighter as the pages crumple at your very touch. you hoped he's tired or isn't in a bad mood. in that way he would just force you to cuddle him until you fall asleep. one thing you knew with living with him that is he never sleeps or so you think. you didn't know. you never catched him being asleep. it's not like you're going to murder him in cold blood.
you shift in your seat. trying to find a comfortable position despite the weariness growing in you and pretends you're engrossed in your book. you didn't want to send him a message that you're scared of him but you weren't comfortable with him either.
cold palms holds your round cheeks and you were greeted by him smiling. his dimples deepening and he is yet to remove his blindfold. “i'm home, my love.” and he squeezes your cheeks a little hard. anticipating the words that will come flowing out of your mouth. it's a warning. your lips tremble a bit. “w—welcome home, satoru.” you managed to say out aloud and he was satisfied. hooking a finger in his blindfold before pulling it up and discarding it. a sign that his attention is all on you now.
“would you like something to eat?” you asked him. biting your tongue at the question. regretting at your choice of yours and you should have stayed silent. your brain screaming and hoping that he is actually hungry and you're not insinuating that will get him riled up.
gojo chuckles. “you could be so cheeky, mochi.” pinching your round cheek. “you know the answer.” he said and you panic for a brief moment before he takes it back. “as much i'd like to have you for dinner, i prefer us sharing a meal tonight.” you wished this was set on a different timeline. where you would be his from your own will. his good housewife where you will miss him for real and share the sentiments of being together despite busy schedules but it's not. you're still sane and you were just playing pretend.
a quick hot meal and the plates and bowls are already laden with food. you both ate in silence. aside from him spoon feeding you. watched in glee as you ate what he feeds you. your lips around the chopsticks while you chew and hums in delight.
the meal ends when the dishes are stacked in the sink and you told him that you'll take care of it while he takes a bath. he didn't look at you suspiciously. confident in himself that can't run away from him and you knew that too well.
you're almost finished drying the plates when he got out of the shower. never liked staying for too long when you're here. itching to get closer to you every time he's far away from you and he takes a little longer to admire his wife doing the simplest of things. the calmness of your face and your body moving in slow motion. it's almost he was being serenaded with such tranquility coming from you. he almost feels bad when he's the reason sometimes of your tears.
he slowly walks towards you. encasing you in his arms and he feels you stiffen against his touch. body turning rigid while his large hands dwarfs over to your smaller hands. helping you wipe the plate dry until there is nothing left to clean.
“satoru, not tonight. please.” your husband began to kiss you. he likes the word "husband". it brings him joy knowing that he is yours. “why?” he asks. his hard on poking through his gray sweatpants and is pressed to your ass. “i'm not in the mood.” you reason out. holding his wrists in a firm hold. his hands creeping under your blouse. his fingers digging in the plushness of your stomach. “then let's get you in the mood.” he breath out. kissing the side of your head and then to your jaw. his hands kneading the flesh in your stomach like dough. his touch were like fire. scorching and scalding. burning in your skin and causing you pain that you can't measure with.
“please! not tonight!” you snap out in anger. in frustration. sick to your stomach of letting him do whatever he pleases. of pretending that you like whatever he does.
he stops for a moment. listening to your plea and he grabs your shoulder. making you turn around to face him. he cups your jaw and forcing you to look at his eyes. you could stare at those icy blue eyes that looks like spheres where the universe is held forever. instead you loathed it. it's a reminder how vast the world is and here you are, imprisoned and is forced to this man's whims.
your lips are soft against him. he missed kissing you. he's been away for a week and you're here, denying him. he took it as an advantage to wrapped his arms around your waist before hoisting you above. your body beginning to struggle against him but he continued to kiss you until you were both in the bed. placing you down before his body traps you.
“is it because i was rough last week, baby?” his voice laced with concern that it's poison to hear. “no. i just don't want to be with you tonight.” your eyes begins to get heavy with tears. “not now, satoru.” you begged hoping he would stop. gojo grasps your cheek. “i'm sorry if i was rough but i will be gentle tonight.” he assures you but no words can convince you.
then you leave him no choice.
he puts his shin in your thighs preventing movements and lessening your resistance to him and then in a brief flash when your wrist got loose. his cheek started to sting. the crimson liquid seeping in the cracks of his dermis and he smiles. halting his assault to you and relish in the physical pain you put him through. since when did he got injured last? feel the pain of the surface of his body. he fought the strongest of curses. fought with toughest of foes. got stabbed with a blade and shaked the hands of death.
there's infinity protecting him and yet, he can't shield himself from loving you and he's more than willing to accept your touch and harm him in anyways you can.
he watched you as you curl up in a fetal position. protecting your body from him as you sobbed. the first tears rolling down in your cheeks and staining the pillows below you.
this won't stop. you would be always in this position no matter how you resist. you braced yourself for what to come and you were met with nothing. no greedy of his hands touching you and you were relieved. maybe, he gave up for tonight.
how wrong you are. you look at him through blurry eyes and his pale cheeks were colored in his blood. you did it. you inflicted pain in him. you wounded him. you take a gulp of air. calming your erratic heartbeat. not once did it crossed your mind you can harm him. with his infinity and those eyes and the endless power bestowed to him. you could never.
there is a look of animosity behind your eyes that he can see clearly. he's a little hurt aside from the wound. your soft body is sprawled beneath him. sobs racking throughout your body and it hurts him a little to see you crying.
“i thought it will change....” a hiccup interrupted your following words then when you regained your control to speak, you continued. “...my feelings for you. that one day, despite of what you had done. i'll learn to love you...” your fist clenching. your hands making a close-open motion before turning into a fist again. grasping the blanket. “nothing changed, i'm sick of playing house with you. i fucking hate you.” all the madness and you don't think it will reach to him.
a little. he knows how much you despised him. loathed him.
he don't care though. you were still his wife. no matter what you were feeling. be it hatred or fondness that he will never attain. you already hate him, what's the point of caring for your silly, little feelings when he can always make it up to you.
“i know.” he whispers. brushing a lock of your hair and leaning down to press his forehead to yours. his blue eyes staring intently in your eyes, tears at the corner.
alas, it never ends. your tears, your voice and will being taken away. how his hands latching at the lapels of your top. ripping it apart just like how he always do. your pajama shorts following.
bite your lips as he slowly penetrates you. don't make a sound. you tell to yourself. just don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don'—.
he promises to himself that after this, he would spoil you. buy all your favorite snacks, new clothes, a whole set of the book he knows you really like. he would take the day off to spend the rest of his days pampering you. kiss all the parts where it hurts but now, let him feel you as he kisses the salty streaks of your tears in your cheek. stare at your eyes and search for his reflection. his fingers intertwining at yours and when you squeezed his hands back, he'll convince himself that you really loved him despite all of that.
and it's more than enough.
NANAMI KENTO
you spend your days lounging around. the ankle cuffs weighing heavier than it is. search every cracks and cranny of the penthouse, hoping to entertain yourself and you've found some rather interesting things but it was nothing when you found the key to your freedom.
an old model of a phone. it wasn't damaged at the very least along with a few scratches and a minimal crack in the corner of the screen. you think it was nanami's phone during his high school years but you set aside the thoughts. this was necessary for your freedom.
pressing the key button, you let out a sharp gasp. the device vibrates and beeps with the model's ringtone. every second feels like eternity waiting for it to power up.
the screen lights up. showing you the screensaver and the date and time that was at least a decade ago. you check if there is network and you were graced with a full bar signalling that it was capable of calling someone. you changed the date and time to match with today and to avail the services.
your hands shaking as you tapped the buttons one by one. unaware of the door opening and the footsteps getting closer to where you are. you didn't even think he'd be home this early.
there's a sound akin to a purr when you pressed the button a little longer. it's the last digit of the number of the person you've been itching to call since you've been declared missing. they must be worried sick. your hands shake, getting clammy as you pressed the call button. there's static then the familiar hum of the number being dialed.
dialing.
dialing..
dialing...
“hello?” the familiar voice of your mom at the end of the receiver and your hands tremble. you breathe in and out. steadying your breathing and you want to break in a sob. this is it. someone is going to help you now. a tear falls before you can speak.
“mom! m—.” it happens in a slow motion. his large and warm palm in yours before he pulls the phone away from you. pressing the end call button swiftly and putting it in his pockets. since when? since when did he get back? wasn't he at work?
“give it back!” you yelled, reaching out for him. for his pockets. why did it have to be so close yet so far. “darling, you can't.” he says apologetically. pursing his lips in thin line and he can feel a migraine coming.
“no! stop telling me what to do! i'm so sick of you controlling me!” you almost spat at his face. desperately clawing him to get that device. he holds your shoulder, stopping your advances in him but you kept fighting for it. punching at him with your fists but what are you to the man who was built like a solid rock.
he's patient but sometimes his patience runs thin when things doesn't go in his way. he's already in a sour mood after having to deal with a colleague and you, his supposed to be sweet wife is fighting him. with no choice, he lifts you up. putting you in his shoulders like you were a sack of potatoes.
that didn't hinder you and you were putting up a fight. your freedom was that close and you couldn't let this chance slip. your arms hitting his back and your legs moving. squirming as you try to wrestle your way out from his grip.
“let me go! let me call my mom!” you sniffle. the tears flowing from your cheeks freely staining the back of his shirt. your arms still flailing and with a particular movement. your elbow made contact on his cheek. nanami remains stoic and he knows it will bruise.
you limply slide away from his body when his hold on to you got loose. clutching your arms and watch droplets of your tears fall on the ground. your hiccups were sudden and squeezes your chest with every breath. “i just want to go home.” you whisper.
when will you ever learn?
and why does it hurt him when you cry even when it's your fault. he loves you. a part of his brain tell him. it's an accident. he tells to himself. you were never meant to hurt him and you were just missing your mother. what a pain. you were supposed to be dead in the outside world. now, your existence are known and it would not take long before it spreads about you being alive. perhaps, he can make arrangements regarding to your family members.
he loves you and that's why he only tolerates your misbehaviors but now, he don't think he can put up with this tantrums again. you needed to learn.
nanami kneels down at your level. his hazel eyes warm and gives you the illusion that he'll let go of this but it was unforgiving. he cradles your cheek with his palm. “i'm sorry darling, you need to learn a lesson.”
the blonde sorcerer watch in desire as shiver runs down throughout your body. his fingers tracing the outline of your back where your spine is covered by your supple flesh. normally, nanami would take pleasure in this. watch as you writhe and squirm for him. it's considered therapeutic for him but in the next minutes it would be going to be hard for you.
your face buried in the sheet while your ass is in the air. bare and sore from the previous spanking and it's not enough. you needed to learn. take a lesson in what he's about to do and he's not forgiving at all times.
he rubs his fingers into your clit. flicking and pinching to get you nice and wet for him. although he's strict on prepping you first — stretching you properly with his fingers, tonight it wouldn't be present. he hopes you're already wet before he sinks his cock into you.
you feel him rub his cock to your slit before slowly inserting his cock into your hole. you winced as his large cock forces you to open for him. he's big and it hurts. tears stains the sheets under you as you bit the fabric. muffling your discomfort and the pain that spreads in your sex.
shit, all he can do is grit his teeth while your cunt engulfs his length. he can hear your whimpers and gasps and see the tears spreading in the sheets. he needs to do it or else it'll happen again. he can never let you go or leave him. you will always be forever with him.
when he taught that you're well and adjusted to him, nanami began to piston his hips at a brutal pace. the slam of his hips to yours makes your flesh jiggle and watch it stack in layers and fuck, it's beautiful how your body moves and responds to his every touch. just bare with it. he thinks to himself. he won't last too long from how good you are to him and true to it, he's already spilling his load inside you.
and now he regrets it. your back is pressed against his chest while he rubs the sore spots all over your body. you remained motionless. blinking the tears away and how you flinches away from his touch. remaining quiet and barely acknowledging his presence.
“forgive me, my darling.” he whispers to you. kissing your shoulders in attempt of redeeming himself from being too rough with you. his heart breaks when you ignored him. making yourself smaller in his presence despite being caged in his arms.
sighing, he continues his affections to you. knowing in due time you had your share and you wouldn't want to experience any of it again.
one thing he's sure of. you will never attempt again with his wrongdoings plaguing your mind and it's better. conveniently perfect for him until the next time.
FUSHIGURO TOJI
who thought you could put a fight.
although the damage was minimal, adrenaline pumps in his system. it's clear you were startled and your flight or fight response kicking in, in which you choose the latter to defend yourself.
a huge scratch mark decorating his arm and toji barks a laugh. licking his lips and the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches. it wasn't any different to the marks littering in his back from his artist of a wife. it wasn't bleeding but it stings when the cold air touches his peeled skin.
emerald eyes glimmers in amusement and toji crouches to your sniveling form in the corner of the bed. he cups your round cheek with his hand. “what do you say, princess when you've hurt someone?” he asks. humming to get that answer but you stubbornly avoided his gaze. rubbing your hands in your arms to comfort yourself.
toji clicks his tongue in annoyance. “it looks like you've forgotten your manners, huh?” he grabs your wrist and you pulled it away from him but toji kept his grip tight and bruising. almost crushing your wrist. “need me to teach it to you, sweetheart?” the sorcerer assassin taunts you. you shaked your head and toji sighs. you're going to learn it the hard way.
it's bruising. his hand wrapped around your neck and you see little spots of white in your vision while he drills his cock in your cunt. his other hand in your plush waist using it as a leverage to get deeper in your pussy. “are you really make me say it, you stubborn bitch.”
you can't speak. not when his hand are wrapped in your throat. you can't even make a sound and you stare back at him with tears in your eyes while you squeezed around him. earning a involuntarily moan from the man above you.
he loosens his grip and you took gulps of air before speaking, “i—i'm sorry.” you manage to croak out and toji chuckles. “see, it wasn't that hard to say. you really like being fucked by me before you can learn your lesson. keep it in mind, that me fucking you is second to me killing those monkeys outside.” toji leans down to whisper those words to you. looking at you side ways and watch your expression morphs into something of fear, desire as you moaned around him.
“don't be fucking stubborn to me the next time or you will get worse than this. i won't be forgiving you.” he warns. “understand?”
“yes.” you say nodding.
“good fucking girl.”
GETO SUGURU
you were absolutely mortified. he can see clearly how your lips trembled and the hue of your eyes being clouded with fear. shocked even. he knows you didn't mean it and you barely made a scratch on him.
“come here, sweet girl.” geto calmly called you but you shake your head. taking steps backwards like you were afraid of him. “now.” his voice now assertive and you slowly walk towards him. head hung low from being ashamed of harming your master.
“i—i'm sorry, geto-sama. i didn't mean it.” you drawl out to him and his fingers went to grasp your chin. meeting his gaze and you were nervous just by looking at them.
“i know you don't.” his hands finding your back to rub it. assuring you that it was fine and no harm was done to him and only the feeling of being betrayed that you felt unsafe around him. thinking that he will lash out at you and force you to unimaginable things that he's capable of but curse user is not like that. he values you that much but it doesn't mean you'll get away from it.
“but it is an accident i can't turn a blind eye on. are you scared of me?” he asks. his gaze turning dark as he looks at you straight in the eye.
you remained silent. truth be told, you are. you are scared of him. you've witnessed how he can commit such heinous acts without remorse and you're afraid that you'll upset him and you're going to end up like them. that's what you think but geto is far from that to you.
he noticed how your body trembles. the face of anxiety is visible for him to see and he chuckles to himself, amused. he was just playing with you and the answer is clear in front of him.
he brushes his lips to yours. “do not fear me, sweet girl.” he murmurs. the action enough to topple you in the edge and he hears your heart beating in your rib cage. your breath stuck in your throat and your eyes blown with lust.
“you always can make it up to me.” he says to you before turning his back to you and it was your cue to follow him in his private quarters.
that's why you found yourself bare in front of him. sweat glistening in your skin while you worked to please him. accident or not, you need to make it up for him. a way you can be freed from the burden you are now carrying by bestowing the most of heinous of acts to him. one thing that you promised yourself that you will never lay a hand in him unless he instructs you so.
you just love him so much that you're blind that you are only being exploited for his own gains.
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