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#and my skin crawls at the smallest dirty things
macabrevampire · 17 days
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chat i might be mentally ill ( ↖ guy that's suffered tremendously his entire life and is only getting worse)
#txt#long ass vent ahead in tags; read at your own risk <3#being a person who can't function and can't socialize and hasn't been able to find a job is awful :D#i feel like i'm the most worthless scum on earth. why can't i work. i know i'm unsettling and can't talk normally#i want to work; i want to socialize#i want to be human#but everything i say is wrong; everything i do doesn't amount to anything#my ocd and anxiety and depression are fucking killing me daily. the compulsions get worse and i get more depressed#i can't function day-to-day; i struggle to get out of bed#the world is dirty and no matter how much i clean it doesn't get cleaner#i'm in so much fucking pain. it doesn't cease; i wake up and it's always something new. today the headache. tomorrow the stomach ache#next my back hurts almost as if a piano had fallen on it#my legs ache; my wrists writhe#the pain in my chest is unbearable; it feels as if my finger had been twisted unnaturally#dizziness overtakes me; it's hard to breathe; i can't think#the brain fog and dizziness and compulsions are killing me i think#disregard the pain for a moment; every single thing i do is interrupted by the evil voice in my head telling me that if i don't set things-#in the correct order then someone i love dearly will die a most excruciating death and it'll be my fault#how am i supposed to ignore those compulsions?#most of mine are centered around death or the vague ''something bad will happen to x person''#and my skin crawls at the smallest dirty things#and everyone in this house is so fucking dirty. no one cares to clean after themselves which leaves it to me-#and it makes me permanently filthy; my skin writhes i can FEEL the layer of disgusting filth just sitting there and no matter how much-#i wash and wash and wash- it doesn't cease. it's still there. you're still dirty; the shower isn't clean enough; the soap doesn't wash well#enough. i just want it to be over#and the stress from my life is making it worse#i need a job but i'm painfully mentally ill and i don't understand social cues and i'm fucking semi-verbal to boot#< i struggle with speaking. point blank period. no one accommodates those of us who can't or have a hard time speaking#whatever man i have GOT to kill myself. the only option i have
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littlemourningstarr · 10 days
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Only Little Deaths
Astarion knows Sekh needs to get to the Society of Brilliance's Lodge, that he's expected. But that doesn't stop him from wishing his lover would just crawl back into bed with him for the afternoon instead.
Read below or on AO3!
Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav
Part of the Eternally Yours series!
Tags: Transmasc tav, post game, horny idiots in love, blowjobs, public sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk
Astarion watched, leaning against the wall, as Sekh stood in their living room, looking over the mess of items he’d tossed all over a small table, to pack away for his outing at the Lodge.
He was wearing his robes already, hair pulled over his shoulder in a loose ponytail. It exposed the side of his neck, and Astarion inclined his head, fascinated by every little curve of skin, the freckles that dotted his flesh, the little white scars that littered his neck now.
He could see them all, now- even from across the room. One of the many changes he’d begun to experience since the- gods, more than a year- since Cazador’s death, since the Brain. Free of his old Master, of the tadpole, and of sheer starvation, he was developing in ways he hadn’t ever dreamed.
He pressed his tongue against his fangs, as Sekh began shoving things into a satchel. Despite the robes he could make out the curve of his waist- he’d let Astarion have a bit of fun with his society robes, and tended to wear a small corset like belt, around his waist with them. It only reminded Astarion how easily it fit in his hands, how good it was to feel the muscles on the drow’s sides, his stomach, flexing beneath his hold-
“Astarion?”
Astarion blinked, realized Sekh was looking at him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even realized the man had turned around. “Yes love?”
“You’re staring.”
“Am I now?” Astarion tipped his head more, let his eyes linger. He knew Sekh noticed. “Apologies pet- you’re just a bit distracting.”
Sekh laughed, such a rich sound that it made Astarion’s heart jump- affection flooding him like a liquid fire. Oh how he loved to hear his drow laugh. Sekh walked over, laid his hands flat on Astarion’s chest- so close Astarion could smell him- incense and ash, bits of earthy sweetness from all of the flora he worked with.
It made him dizzy.
“I don’t think I’m currently at my most distracting,” Sekh teased, “not exactly the most… alluring getup.”
Astarion reached for his waist, settled his hands exactly where he had wanted to. Gods, it felt too good to just hold onto him. “You’re always distracting,” Astarion countered, eyes flicking to Sekh’s lips, a silent ask.
And oh, his drow gave. Sekh closed the gap, kissed him slowly- heavy, even movements of his mouth and tongue, making Astarion swear the room was spinning. He nipped at Astarion’s lower lip, sucked it into his mouth, and the vampire mewled, pulling him in closer by his waist, grinding into him.
Sekh broke away, breathing a little gasp, as Astarion went for his jaw, his throat- nuzzled into his warm skin, kissed deeply, dragged his fangs along warm flesh. “Sweetheart,” Sekh managed, squirming so deliciously in Astarion’s hold, grinding into him in a way that was simply instinct, making Astarion ache.
Gods, when had he gotten so hard?
“I- have to… go…” Astarion pressed the tips of his fangs hard to Sekh’s skin- didn’t break skin, but had him shuddering.
“Do you?” he asked, moving to his lover’s ear. “You could just come back to bed.” Astarion’s hands moved off his waist, slipped down to cup his ass, holding him even closer. He could hear Sekh’s pulse racing- would have known even without hearing it that the drow was aroused. It was so easy to see now- he could catalog even the smallest details of his man, had over the year. He prided himself in being able to read him.
“As tempting as that is,” Sekh managed, pushing himself back from Astarion’s chest, “unfortunately we don’t have time to indulge for the next four to five hours.”
Astarion groaned, the sheer thought of spending the entire afternoon, the evening in bed with Sekh making him feel feral. And he knew it wasn’t an empty promise- they very well could fuck half the day away.
“Please?” Astarion asked, batting those pretty white lashes. Sekh laughed again, leaning in to peck his cheek.
“I want to, but I can’t right now. You know if I don’t show up then Blurg’s entire presentation on Obliviax will be a disaster.”
Astarion huffed. Never in all his years would he imagine recognizing the name of a damn Underdark moss and actually knowing at least two… maybe three facts on it. Much beyond that and he did begin to lose his train of thought.
Still, he’d listen to Sekh talk about any of it at length- if only because his eyes danced with a passionate fervor that Astarion never saw reflected in any of his other pursuits.
“Gods dammit,” Astarion mumbled, tipping his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “Yes, alright, scurry off to rescue the dear intelligent and yet foolish man from embarrassment at the hands of your peers.” He released his hold on Sekh, waved a hand dramatically, expected him to pull away, to go back to packing his bag. He was most likely already late, as it were.
Yet instead, Astarion heard the rustling of fabric, and the sound of Sekh settling down. He felt hands on his hips, sliding along his pelvis- and looked down just to see his drow on his knees, looking up at him with those mismatched eyes, a wicked little smile on his face. He plucked dramatically at the lacing of Astarion’s pants with two fingers, and Astarion felt his blood rushing to his groin, to his cock which was already aching, straining beneath his clothing.
“I think,” Sekh said, the word clicking on his pretty tongue, “I can still make some time to take care of you, Starshine.” He paused, fully unlacing Astarion’s pants. “If that’s what you want.”
And, ah, there it was- always an out, if Astarion wanted. Even if he had been the one to initiate, he always had the option to say no. Sekh was so good at reminding him.
He had almost never wanted to say the word.
He managed a nod, throat feeling tight. Sekh smiled, sweetly, before he turned his gaze away, focused on freeing Astarion’s cock from the confines of his clothing. Feeling his warm hand grasp him gently, ease him into the open air- it had Astarion shivering.
Sekh stroked him once, so slow, looking pleased with how hard he was, the flush to his cock. He had more color to him, as of late- proper feedings did that, after all.  Astarion was rather good at caring for himself, now-
It helped immensely that Sekh enjoyed looking after him.
The drow placed a kiss to his cockhead- and gods above it was sweet somehow- before he opened that pretty mouth, took him in slowly. Astarion sighed, felt that familiar wet heat as Sekh sucked gently, tongue rolling along his glans, his hand stroking his shaft slowly. 
Astarion tipped his head back, eyelids fluttering as Sekh took him deeper, deeper, deeper- each slow swallow bringing him further and further into his mouth, until his cock was nestling against his throat-
And the gods were real as far as Astarion was concerned, because his drow didn’t gag. He just took like a good, eager little pup.
His hands moved to Astarion’s hips, held them gently, little groans coming from his full mouth. Astarion could only imagine how wet he’d be, already. Sekh seemed to get off more on getting Astarion off, and it drove the vampire absolutely wild.
“Good- good job, love,” Astarion managed, breaths coming quicker. His hips rocked into Sekh’s mouth, but his lover kept his rhythm steady. Gods how did he ever learn this?
Astarion grunted, felt the back of Sekh’s throat, felt his muscles quiver. The drow pulled off then, took a desperate breath, mouth a wet, pretty mess. He didn’t even look up at Astarion- he simply swallowed his cock back down, even more eager now, moving a bit faster.
Astarion reached a hand for his head, sank his fingers into his silken ginger hair. He didn’t guide Sekh’s movements- frankly, he didn’t need to- but instead pet him, affectionately. He felt Sekh shiver, heard another pleased little noise from him, and felt another wave of sheer tightening euphoria in his belly, his balls, along the base of his spine.
He never lasted long with Sekh. It should have been downright embarrassing, but it only seemed to please the drow- make him act as if Astarion was so comfortable, so taken with him that he couldn’t help himself.
He was right, on every account.
Astarion moaned his name, and Sekh fluttered his eyes open, glanced up. His pupils were large, he looked wanton- and Astarion could feel himself tipping, slowly, over the edge.
“Darling- I’m not-hells.” Astarion broke off, gasping, hips rocking, his legs beginning to feel weak. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
He didn’t need to tell Sekh- but he did anyway. There was enjoyment in admitting he felt so fucking good.
Sekh squeezed his hips, took him to his throat and held him there. Astarion trembled, little gasped yeses and noises leaving him, making him sound desperate.
Perhaps because he was.
He dug his shoulders into the wall, hips thrusting against Sekh’s hands, breaths heavy pants- and then a loud, whining groan as he felt everything burst inside him. He came against Sekh’s throat, and then over his tongue as the drow eased him from his throat slowly, so he could tease him with his tongue, making Astarion mewl.
It was only when his hips stilled as Sekh pulled back, looked up at him, all flushed, eyes big, mouth glistening. Astarion watched him swallow and felt a hot tingle race along his spine- his cock twitching, wanting more- always wanting more. Wanting to grind against Sekh until he was hard again, until he could slip inside him, feel his body clench so tightly-
Sekh gently tucked Astarion back into his pants, stood up and pulled at the lacing of his trousers tightly. “Better?” he asked, voice a bit rough. Astarion swallowed thickly, watched as Sekh reached up, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
Astarion had wanted to lick at those soft lips, get saliva and cum and simply revel in the filthiness of it all.
“It’s a start,” Astarion purred, and Sekh laughed again, shaking his head. He leaned back in, kissed his cheek softly, and Astarion reached up, gripped his chin. “A proper kiss, darling,” he whispered, and Sekh melted into him, kisses warm and tainted with a bitter-salt.
“You’re impossible,” Sekh whispered.
“There are plenty of days where you’re just begging to drag me back to bed,” Astarion pointed out- and the smile on Sekh’s face gave away that he knew it was true. He could be just as insatiable.
Another kiss, this time quick, to Astarion’s lips, before Sekh stepped away, turning and heading for the satchel he’d packed, slinging it over his shoulder. “Later,” he offered, in a single word promise- before he blew Astarion a playful kiss, and made his way for the door.
*
The moment the sun had set and dark fell upon the city, Astarion was out the door, hurrying along the lively streets. It was a rather warm evening, and the streets were lively with the good weather- music escaping taverns, patrons already well into their cups.
There was something joyous about being able to simply… well, enjoy the city like this, now. Not having to look at each person as a potential target- not dreading what sort of horrible line he’d have to throw at someone with a playful smirk, hoping that they were drunk enough to not notice that he could barely look at them.
Days not long gone, but gone nonetheless.
Astarion pushed at the heavy wooden door of the Lodge, heard very lively voices upon entering. He thought he recognized one of them- gods, he always forgot her name, but she was very passionate about the possible causes of Gnolls’ rage. It put Astarion to sleep.
He slipped into one of the larger first floor rooms, found many of the society sitting in deep discussion, along with two faces he didn’t recognize. They weren’t wearing Society robes, and looked rather young. Visitors from a college, most likely.
Sekh glanced over, heard the single footstep Astarion allowed himself to make, and perked up quickly, eyes going bright. “Astarion!” He hopped up, ignoring that the conversation was still ongoing, and hurried over, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.
“Perhaps this would be a good…ah, time for a reprieve, an intermission.” Blurg stood up, and Sekh kissed Astarion’s cheek, then whispered in his ear,
“Thank you. If I heard one more word about lice I was going to re-tadpole myself.”
The vampire laughed, as Sekh pulled back, positively grinning. He was just far too handsome when he smiled.
Astarion glanced past Sekh briefly, noticed that the other society members seemed to be breaking off, mingling. He took his lover’s hand then, tangled their fingers together, and whispered “follow me”, before leading him away from the room. Sekh followed quickly, climbing the stairs with Astarion, letting the vampire lead him out onto one of the small balconies.
Astarion never would have guessed that he’d know his way around the Society of Brilliance’s Lodge so damn well- but then again, his life was nothing like what he might have once expected.
“What are you do-” Sekh cut off when Astarion pulled him in, a hand going to cup the back of his head as the vampire kissed him. Sekh melted into it, hand going to Astarion’s chest, grasping at his shirt, as Astarion backed him up against the now closed door, until he bumped against it.
“Kissing you,” Astarion murmured, in answer to the unfinished question. He pressed his mouth to Sekh’s again, slipped his tongue past his overly sweet lips- ah, he’d been snacking on that candy that Blurg made he so loved, typical- pressed at Sekh’s own tongue, got a pleased little noise from his drow.
Sekh pulled his hand from Astarion’s, settled it on his hip, squeezed gently. Astarion took it as an invitation, and eased one of his legs between Sekh’s, pushing his thigh up under Sekh’s robes, grinding against his groin. Sekh gasped into the kiss, eyes going wide, and Astarion nipped at his lip, careful not to draw blood.
“Astarion,” Sekh managed- and gods, he would never get sick of the man saying his name- ever.
“They won’t miss you for a few minutes,” the vampire drawled, dragged his mouth along Sekh’s jaw.
“They could hear us,” Sekh warned, even as he ground against Astarion’s thigh, the hand at his waist pulling at his shirt, untucking it.
“They’d be so lucky.” A nip to Sekh’s neck, a promise, and the drow was shivering, tipping his head to the side, nearly on instinct. It took all the control Astarion had not to sink his fangs into his waiting neck, feel the warmth of his very life flowing into him, hear all those little keening noises, pleased sighs, that his lover would give him.
That would have to wait.
“You’ll just have to be quiet,” Astarion offered, as he felt Sekh’s hands working at his pants now. “Can you do that, my sweet?”
Astarion pulled back, slipped his hands under Sekh’s robes, deft fingers making quick work of the buttons on his pants. Gods, maybe someday the man would stop wearing so much clothing- it would’ve been nice to just flip his robe up and fuck him like that.
Sekh offered a playful smile. “Probably not,” he admitted, “but neither can you.” Astarion couldn’t argue that- nor did he bother. He had Sekh’s pants open at this point, and slipped an eager hand in, fingers finding his clit within seconds. The drow bit his lip, shivered over the cool touch, hips bucking instantly.
Astarion tutted, rubbing the hard bud slowly beneath his finger. “Look at you, hard already. Are you wet too, precious?” He slid his fingers lower, watched Sekh’s eyelids flutter- and ah, yes, he was. Not drenched, not yet, but the arousal was there. Astarion wanted to plunge his fingers into him, but resisted, moving back to his clit.
Sekh sucked in a breath, cheeks beginning to flush. “Can’t help it,” he managed, swallowing thickly. “I can still taste you from earlier.”
Astarion groaned, dove for Sekh’s mouth. If there was a hint of salty bitterness beneath the honeyed candy flavor, Astarion couldn’t find it- but he didn’t doubt the drow. He knew how long he could taste the ghost of Sekh’s pretty cunt, every time he got his mouth on him. 
Sekh moaned into the kiss, squirming around, grinding into Astarion’s fingers. His hands grasped at the vampire’s biceps, fingers digging in through his shirt as Astarion pressed harder at his clit, released his mouth so Sekh could breathe. The drow gasped a desperate breath, and Astarion nuzzled into his neck, breathed in the scent of his skin.
He would have been quite content to get his drow off, like this. He was happy to make Sekh come in anyway possible- but oh, gods below how he wanted to be inside him. He was grateful when the drow released him, hands went to his own pants and underwear, pushing them off his hips, down his thighs.
“We- have to be quick,” Sekh breathed, and Astarion growled into his neck, pulled his hand free and gave him just enough space to bend over, Sekh desperately working one of his boots off.
“A shame,” Astarion mumbled, hands moving to his own pants, one reaching inside and cupping himself. Unable to keep still, he rocked against his palm. He freed his cock to the night air, just as Sekh straightened up, one boot abandoned, pants and underwear tangled around his other leg-
This was ridiculous. Astarion loved it. The vampire grasped at a bare thigh, beneath his robes, hoisted it up against his hip, and in a well practiced, single thrust, eased himself inside. Sekh tipped his head back, eyelids fluttering, and Astarion bowed his head, grunted in the relief of being nestled inside him again.
“Remember,” the vampire managed, voice thick in his throat, as he eased his hips back, “quiet.” He thrust forward, and Sekh’s hands went to his shoulders, held on tightly. His body was hot, felt like the perfect fire to Astarion- as it always did.
He kissed him again, unable to keep away- loving the way Sekh kissed back, how his want was palpable. How, no matter how desperate they got, there was always a loving sweetness to his kisses that made Astarion’s belly cramp up.
He hiked Sekh’s leg higher, the drow’s shoulders digging into the closed door with each thrust. Below them, they could hear the streets bustling- Astarion assumed they were out of sight enough- but if not, well, the night-goers were lucky.
He pulled back from the kiss as Sekh moaned, Astarion knowing he hit the sweetest of spots inside him. He knew exactly how to thrust to make the man melt. “Shh, shh,” he whispered, “remember what I said? Do you want your little peers to hear you falling apart?”
Sekh stared at him with burning eyes, and clenched around him, pulled him in so deep. Astarion gasped, head tipping back- and oh, the drow chuckled.
“They’ll hear you too.” Gods he’d done that on purpose, filthy little scamp. 
Astarion sucked at his own tongue, sweat beginning to bead along his spine. Sekh’s hips were rolling to meet his, the drow’s fingers going to his hair now, tangling- pulling. Astarion jerked his head back, a desperate keen leaving him, and Sekh leaned into him, laved his tongue up along where his pulse would have been.
“See? You’re just as loud as me. Hush now, love, or they’ll come running. They’ll find us and see the dashing little vampling falling to bits all because of my cunt.”
Astarion squeezed his eyes shut, swore he saw stars. Gods below Sekh shouldn’t have been able to turn every situation to his advantage. But he could, he did- and it was freeing, to let him, to enjoy it.
Astarion pushed him back, planted his hands firmly on the door, panting as he thrust with abandon into Sekh’s body. The drow’s leg curled back against his thighs, helping to pull him deeper, deeper. Astarion hovered over his mouth, heard laughter from within the Lodge.
“Have- to be… quick,” Sekh managed, one hand clutching at Astarion’s back, the other slipping between them, reaching desperately for his clit. “They’ll- expect me- back.”
Astarion thrust harder, felt Sekh tremble as he touched himself quickly. He could feel his insides tighten around him, the drow panting against his mouth, face fully flushed now. Gorgeous, in the night light of the city.
The vampire kissed him, pressed his tongue into his mouth, felt him shake. He was so close, he could tell, the thrill of being so exposed making his pleasure easy.
Astarion made a note of this- why, had he known that Sekh would enjoy the risk so much, he would’ve indulged in this far sooner.
“Come now, love,” Astarion breathed, his body tingling. He was so close himself, but gods, he would not come without Sekh. Not when there wasn’t time for him to get his fingers in him after, to eat his pretty little cunt until the man was a sobbing mess. “You can do it, can’t you? For me?”
Sekh choked, Astarion’s name on his lips, before he tossed his head back, hit it against the door and didn’t care. It only took another moment- two thrusts, a single pass of Sekh’s fingers, and the drow was trembling, panting Astarion’s name brokenly as he came.
Astarion growled, bared his fangs, body tensing over the feeling- and Sekh’s orgasm hadn’t even crested when Astarion was joining him, the growl becoming a high pitched whine as his hips jerked, seed spilling inside Sekh.
The elf leaned into him, pressed his forehead to Sekh’s, both panting. Astarion managed to swallow, and after a moment, Sekh cracked a smile. “We are not quiet,” he said, nearly laughing. Astarion grinned.
No, they definitely weren’t.
As much as Astarion wanted to enjoy a bit of the after glow, he knew a quick fuck didn’t allow for such a luxury. He’d just have to wait to get himself fully tangled around Sekh once they returned him. Instead he kissed the drow’s temple, then stepped back, fixing his pants.
Sekh stooped over, attempting to correct the ridiculous half undressing they’d given him. It was rather comical, if Astarion was honest.
“You could wear less clothing,” the vampire suggested, as Sekh rebuttoned his pants. “I mean, you’re covered enough.”
Sekh rolled his eyes, grabbed his nearly lost boot and stepped into it. He got down on a knee, began fixing the lacings. “Yes, and when I get so enthralled with my work and end up crawling around to look at samples, everyone can enjoy the view of my backside.”
“I mean, I would.”
Sekh stood up, smacking Astarion in the chest lightly. Then, in a quick motion, he grasped his shirt, jerked the vampire in a step, nearly knocking him off balance. “Sweetheart, if you want easy access to my cunt at all moments of the day, you’ll have to ask nicely.”
Astarion swallowed thickly, felt his groin throb. No, no, his lover could not tease him like this now- not when he was finally getting a bit of decorum back.
“You could kill me,” Astarion managed, and Sekh pecked his lips.
“Only little deaths, Starshine. I love you too much for anything more than that.” Sekh stepped back then, attempted to smooth down his Society robe. “Now, we’d best get back in there, before we’re missed.”
Astarion straightened his own shirt, thought to point out that Sekh’s freckled cheeks still had a mild flush to them- but oh, it didn’t matter. Besides, it was a warm night, he could blame the heat.
They stepped back into the Lodge, heading for the stairs. They were about half way down when Omeluum appeared at the base.
“Ah, there you are. Blurg requires your assistance, Sekh’met. I do believe he has concerns about his Obliviax notes.”
Sekh was off then, rushing down the stairs, past Omeluum- leaving Astarion to wonder if a man could in fact be as in love with plants as another living- er, undead- creature.
A joke, of course. But he would use it to tease the drow later.
Astarion reached the bottom of the stairs, noticed Omeluum was… looking at him. The mindflayer didn’t really have many expressions- Astarion could never tell if it meant to frown, or smile- was it even possible with the mouth beneath its tentacles?
The vampire arched a brow in silent question, and Omeluum’s tentacles seemed to twitch, almost excitedly. “I must ask- is there something more pleasing about coupling when not in one’s bedroom?”
And Astarion blushed. Oh. Oh, okay, so the Mindflayer definitely knew. Great. “Uhm- well, you see-”
Omeluum held a taloned hand up, stopping Astarion’s incoherent babble. “Collect your thoughts, we can revisit after Blurg and Sekh’met discuss the Obliviax. I am rather interested for… research purposes.”
Omeluum turned then, making its way back to the larger room Astarion had found them all in. And what research could that be, he had to wonder?
But more so- he realized Sekh and Blurg hadn’t even talked about their ridiculous memory loss moss- and gods below, he was going to have to sit through the whole discussion.
This was most definitely not the life he had ever envisioned for himself. But as he stepped back into the room, taking a seat in a rather comfortable chair, watching Sekh point excitedly within a book to Blurg, both standing, about the be the center of attention-
Well, life could have turned out far worse. Far, far worse, where he was concerned.
14 notes · View notes
cuspidgoddess · 2 months
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😇 about Usagi? 🤗
After further discussion Chronic asked about what led to Usagi taking Keigo up on his offer to join the PLF. So I give you a short blurb (674 words).
The First Virtue
Content warning: nongraphic mention of sexual assault, quirk discrimination, de-humanization and sexualization. Viewer discretion advised.
Being a hare is hard. Being prey isn’t even the hard part, he’s used to that. What he isn’t used to is the attention he’s started receiving since he turned 16. By the time he's 18 hands constantly trying to grab his tail, people trying to touch his ears have become his normal. A polite step away and a "please stop" usually earn an irritable scoff but the hands will fall away.
Rabbits- bunnies- hares- they're all the same to the world around him- have been a sex symbol for so long that people have stopped seeing him as a person. As soon as he started running for fun- for training the last of his baby fat fell away making way for toned calves, muscled thighs and a round ass- he became just another dumb bunny. They’re pests, and it shows when they try to poison produce at farmers markets, when he passes the prostitutes that look so much like him, when men leer at him from darkened alley’s.
Laying in the gutter, staring at the filthy bricks in front of him he can’t help but wonder dully how he got here. How can I be Usagi, the red light rabbit, the vigilante with the most sexual assault saves and serial rapist arrests and still become a statistic. I didn’t even scream… I didn’t fight- I just froze. How could I have frozen like that? His eyes burn almost as bad as the scrapes on his palms and knees. His cheek feels bruised from where his face was shoved against the cement and there’s an ache at the base of his spine that he will never ever forget the feeling of, a burning shooting pain that radiates through his tail and makes his eyes burn worse, but he can’t move, he’s still frozen, heart beating way too fast. His heart is going to give out, he’s going to die alone in the gutter, just like so many others, too frightened by the terrible world they’ve been born into, too afraid to live. He tries to keep his sobs quiet, terrified of being found so vulnerable. It doesn’t matter that he’s been used, that he’s dirty and bleeding, he’s seen enough of the evils of life to know that to some those things don’t matter. 
It takes every bit of strength he has to crawl out of site, to wedge himself beneath the nearest stinking dumpster, out of sight, out of danger, his instincts promise. Hinata wishes he was a rabbit, wishes more than anything that he had a fluffle to go home to. The thing about hares is they aren’t rabbits. Rabbits are social creatures that live in groups. Hares are not, and leverets don’t get to stick around once they reach maturity. He’s been on his own since he was 17, hasn’t been able to hold a job because when management or the owner finds out he’s uncooperative they turn him loose. He lost his apartment last week and now more than ever he wishes there was someone that would notice he hadn’t made it home. 
He closes his eyes trying to block out the horrible, angry scent that clings to his skin, tries to conjure up anything else to think about then how fast his heart is beating, how all he can smell is blood and cum and around hear how life around him keeps moving as if his whole world hasn’t shattered around him. 
His mind brings him to red wings. Red wings and a lop sided, sharp toothed smile and the most faultless predatory eyes he had ever seen. 
“If you change your mind, need a place to go, or you need help,” Keigo sends one of his smallest feathers to the hare. “Talk to the feather... I know it’s hard being a mutant in this world, my old image didn’t really support that fact, but we have to stick together. There aren’t nearly enough mutant heroes out there, and we all need a flock... or a colony. Give me a whisper if you want to fight for change.” 
With a shaky hand he pats at his pocket and promises himself he’ll find a place where he belongs. 
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awalnutwithablog · 9 months
Text
Moonlit Encounters
Note: It's been a hot minute since I actually wrote something. I present a little bit of tension between my tiefling sorcerer, Gregor, and Halsin.
The entrance to the Shadow-Cursed Lands were a night’s rest away. After a rough encounter with an undead shepherd and its underlings, the group had opted to rest up, lick their wounds. Everyone was finding their own way to prepare for the treacherous road ahead. 
Gregor had taken this moment to slip away to the nearby river. The tiefling figured that he could at least give himself one last good soak before venturing to yet another hellscape.
Black robes spilled to the ground. His braid undone, letting his ashen gray hair fluff and spill down to his mid-back. Small clothes were removed and discarded. Only then it was time to descend into the waters.
The cool waters were soothing against his warm skin. An exhale escaped Gregor whilst he continued to lather himself in the river. It was nice and quiet. A perfect place to be alone with his thoughts of where they were headed. He had heard countless stories of these Shadow-Cursed lands. How even the smallest misstep could get you swallowed up by the land, and never be seen again. And even if you were found, you would no longer be yourself. 
Which fate was worse, he wondered? Being consumed and reduced to some sort of shadow? Or the ceremorphesis process? True, the strange dream guardian was helping them, but the fear of that protection running out was always on the back of his mind. The whole thing made his skin crawl. He felt dirty just thinking of those wretched fates. 
It was almost enough to distract him from the surprise company. A rustling in the brush, steps in the water. The tiefling turned with a firebolt in hand; only to be face to face, or rather face to chest with his newest ally and friend: Halsin. 
The flame was extinguished in a second and the tiefling made a yelp. He lost his footing and fell back. The druid caught his arm, saving him from a splash beneath. The pair shared a glance before Halsin broke the silence. “Forgive me, friend, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He helped Gregor regain his balance. He only let go when he was certain he wouldn’t fall again. “No no..it’s alright.” The tiefling waved his hand.  “I just wasn’t expecting anyone else here.” How is someone that large so capable of sneaking up on someone?  A chuckle from the elf. “Looks to me like we had similar ideas.” It was then that the realization dawned on him.
Halsin was naked.
Halsin was naked.
HALSIN WAS NAKED.
It took all of his willpower to keep his eyes focused on his face. Though the temptation to wander was ever present in his mind. “If you’d prefer I leave, however,” Halsin continued, snapping him back to reality, “Just say the word-It was I who intruded on you, after all.” Those eyes said something different. That he wanted to stay. 
Gregor shook his head. “I-it’s quite alright. If I had to have been intruded upon by anyone, I’d rather it be you.” 
This rewarded him with a smile on that handsome face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
The two shared a moment of silence. Both enjoying a rare moment of calm. One that won’t be for sometime, they both know. Gregor returned to cleansing himself of the blood and dirt of the day’s fighting. It was when his focus was on his hair when he peered over to see Halsin’s eyes upon him. Golden eyes briefly went downward. A mistake quickly corrected. “...Is everything alright, Halsin?”
“Am I not allowed to admire the beauty of nature’s gifts?” He replied with a deep, gentle chuckle. The tiefling’s blush formed quick.  He stood fully and  motioned to himself. “I’m beautiful?” Gregor gave an embarrassed laugh while scratching the back of his head, “Trust me, Halsin, I was much better looking thirty years ago.” “A sequoia grows more beauty with the passage of time.” At those words, the tiefling felt his heart almost stop. His eyes grew wide.  Gods, Gregor thought, Warn a man before you say something like that! But what came out of his mouth was a series of stammerings that maybe could be passed as words. It only strengthened Halsin’s smile. His godsdamned, gorgeous smile.  
No. This was inappropriate. There was too much at stake. They needed to focus on navigating the Shadow-Cursed lands, and getting the cure from Moonrise! There was the cult and-
He found himself drawn closer. The few feet apart became mere inches. Both men’s hands eager to touch the other’s body. They also knew that a single touch from the other might be the thing that would tip things over. So the hands refrained. But the eyes never broke away from one another. Flaming gold locked with a deep, earthy brown. 
It took every single ounce of willpower from both of them to step back from each other. It was Gregor’s turn to shoot an apologetic look up to Halsin. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He shook his head, “There’s so much else that demands your attention. I-” 
A very large hand was placed over his lips with tender care. Gregor gazed up to Halsin, who shared a look of understanding before he lowered his hand. “I should-I should probably get back. The others might be thinking something ate me.” 
“Of course. I’ll rejoin you at camp later. There is…something I need to take care of.” 
Gregor nodded before he turned to head up and out of the waters. However, he paused. The tiefling turned and moved to Halsin again. Only this time, it was to hug the large elf. He felt him tense in surprise. But then he felt those powerful arms wrap around him. A head resting on top of his.
“Thank you, Halsin. For your company. I truly needed it.” They stayed there, again, longer than needed. Gregor was the first to pull away. He gave Halsin a smile, but his eyes gave away the yearning of his heart. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks…or did he see the same in Halsin? 
Now step by step, Gregor made his way out of the water. Unable to pull his gaze away. Now was the moment he let his eyes take in Halsin. And maybe, in his heart of hearts, he did the same. 
It wasn’t until he was out of the water and to his clothes that he finally turned his back to the druid. By the time he stood with his clothes in his arms, he heard the familiar hum of magic. He turned his back, Halsin was gone. His cue to get dressed and return to camp. 
The fears of the tadpole and shadow curses were silenced that night. Replaced by dreams of what could have been.
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yunopouts · 3 years
Text
kitchen beat - l.jeno
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I just want to preface that none of the gifs i use are mine unless i clearly state so!!
okay hi beautifuls :) this is a request for jeno smut + fluff after a stressful day at work (ask and you shall receive). on with it, then!
→ pairing: softdom!jeno x girlfriend!reader
→ genre: smut, fluff
→ warnings: mentions of food, kitchen sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap children!!), fingering, dirty talk (kinda?)
→ word count: 1.4k
sorry, it’s not that detailed but i hope you like it ://
ENJOY!
“Hey babe.” You greeted your boyfriend, not glancing up from the pot that was bubbling on the stove. You didn’t get a response, but you figured he just didn’t hear you.
Light shuffling made its way towards the kitchen, stopping when it arrived behind you. Big, strong arms wrapped around your waist and brought themselves closer to you, Jeno slumping over your shoulder. You raised your hand, bringing it to his cheek, caressing it softly. The boy heaved a heavy sigh when your skin met his.
“What’s wrong with my big puppy.” You said with a feighned pout, now petting his head as your other hand mixed the food with the spatula.
Jeno let out an even heavier sigh, digging his face into the crook of your neck. Sucking in a breath, he finally responded. “I hate work.”
“You hate being an idol? Or you hated today?” you ask, mentally preparing yourself to give an uplifting speech on how he shouldn’t give up on his dreams just yet.
“Today.” You felt him pout.
“Oh, thank god.” This time it was you who sighed, but in relief. “What happened? I didn’t see you this morning. And why are you wearing a suit?” your brows knit together. Looking down at the arms wrapped around you, you noticed that he was wearing a navy-blue suit jacket.
“We had a meeting, and they told us to wear a suit, for no reason.” He explained. “And Donghyuck was just so whiney today- if I could choke him I would, but sadly, that is illegal.” He grumbled into your hair, which tickled your skin.
“Hm~ sounds like a rough day.” You reacted, giggling when his arms tightened around your waist.
Putting down the spatula, you turned off the stove before spinning around in his arms, so that you were facing him, your faces centimetres apart. His dark brown eyes met your own seconds before you leaned in and pressed a small peck against his lips.
As you were about to pull away, one of Jeno’s large hands cupped your cheek, bringing you back in. The kiss he pulled you into was soft, yet needy. As usual, your lips molded perfectly together, the kiss only becoming more heated when he propped you up on to the counter. Your hands were tangled, reaching for the top button for his dress shirt, trying not to rip the expensive material.
He left behind a trail of hickeys as he moved from the corner of your mouth to your jaw and down your neck. The boy pulled your tank top over your head and unclasped your bra, watching in amazement as your tits bounced from the drop of security.
“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled while kissing down the valley of your breasts. Latching his mouth on to your nipple, he sucked on the bud and rolled it around on his tongue, teeth grazing it softly every so often, enjoying the breathy moans that were coming from your mouth.
As busy and devoted he seemed to be on your tits, Jenos fingertips latched around the lining of your shorts and gently tugged them down your legs, allowing them to drop to the floor- along with your underwear.
Slowly adjusting your position, so you could be more comfortable, Jeno spread your legs, eyes glimmering at the sight of your dripping pussy. Leaning down, your boyfriend licked a stripe against your dripping heat, making you shiver. He pulled your lips apart, spitting on your clit before he sucked it away, pleasure taking over your mind and body.
The boys hand reached up to your mouth, signaling for you to suck on his fingers, as the other hand kept one of your thighs in place. When he figured that his fingers were wet enough, Jeno pulled them out with a ‘pop’, bringing them down to your hole, slowly pushing them into you.
“Jeno…” you breathed shakily.
Your boyfriend looked up at you, dark eyes oddly innocent looking. He hummed against you, forgetting momentarily that he was eating you out, only noticing when you dropped your head back.
“Fuck, don’t do that.” You whined.
“Oh, whoops.” He muttered, mouth still against your heat. You called his name again.
“That feels too good.” Jeno chuckled at your comment, the pout that was on his face only a few minutes ago now replaced by a small smile. “Don’t stop.” You bit your lip, raking your hand through his hair in attempt to pull him close- which was impossible, since his nose would sometimes graze you as he ate you out.
“Didn’t plan on it.” His tone was cocky as he started moving his fingers and tongue, the actions synching up in time. Your own hand was at your tit, massaging it as your boyfriend pleased you.
It didn’t take you long to reach your first orgasm- it never did when it came to Jeno. That man can have you squirming under him, screaming his name in minutes.
With a single curl of his fingers, the knot that had built in your stomach was coming undone, your lower half shaking in pleasure as Jeno let you ride out your orgasm on his face and fingers.
When you calmed down, Jeno leaned forward and pressed a short kiss on your lips.
The boy pulled away, unbuttoning his pants, and dropped them to his ankles, along with his boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring up and hit his stomach. Looking down, he spat again, letting his saliva drip down on to his dick, lubricating himself.
Grabbing the base of his shaft, Jeno brought the tip of his cock to your slit, mixing his precum and your arousal together as he slid it up and down before he pushed himself inside you. The feeling of his girth inside you made you lay with your back flat against the countertop.
“Fuck yeah, you take me so well.” He growled, rubbing your stomach. “We haven’t even fucked for twenty minutes, how are you already fucked out.” He grabbed your face with his big hand, directing your gaze back at him, adding in the smallest amount of aggression.
Your boyfriend swung one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling your hips closer to his own. You maintained this position for a while, and right before you were going to warn him that you were close, he pulled out.
“Why?” you asked, catching your breath.
Jeno didn’t respond; instead, he gently took you by the waist and turned you around, your chest now flush against his. Angling himself before ramming into you with your back against the fridge, his length now hitting you deeper.
“Fuck,” Jeno cursed, looking down. “I can see everything.” The boy groaned, smirking at the sight. “God you’re so tight.” He bit his lip, holding in another moan from the pleasure he felt as you clawed at his bare back. The noises he let out were throaty and filthy, only making you even more wet.
Jeno leaned in, so that his face was in the crook of your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.
“Too much.” You tapped his bicep, which flexed under your touch. He slowed his pace and brought you down, switching your position again after ten minutes.
Bending you down on the counter, he fucked you like that, your face and upper body on the cold marble of your kitchen island.
“Jesus, you’re perfect.” His hands slid up your waist, tingles rising in your skin with each touch. “Fuck baby.” He growled, hips rutting faster into you.
As he slid in and out of you, your walls clenched harder and harder, bringing both you and Jeno closer to your orgasms.
“Mm~ cumming.” You hummed, gasping when Jeno’s fingertips found their way on to your clit, rubbing small circles into the nub, helping you release faster.
Barely even a minute after, Jeno pulled out, cumming on your pussy. He slapped his cockhead against your slit, watching his cum drip down your slit, diluting your own with his white seed.
He gently picked you up, bringing you to your shared bedroom and placed you down, crawling under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around your now weak waist.
Jeno pecked you on your lips, smiling up at your pouty expression.
“The food’s probably cold.” You huffed, making him laugh. “And we have to clean the kitchen.”
“Both of those things can wait until later.” His fingers drummed against your hips. “Let me recharge.” He nuzzled his face into your side, making you scoff.
“I thought you just did.” You felt his breath against you as he let out a chuckle. “Whatever.” You sighed, petting his head.
“Thank you.” He said softly, placing a feather light kiss on your side.
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tth-pdf · 3 years
Text
Burning for love; JJK [03]
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Contents: Smut, little bit of dirty talk, supernatural themes, romance, fluff, unedited.
Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x omega!reader
Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.
Requests: ON
A/N: Hello angels, sorry for the LONG wait, was so busy with school and depressing myself, but here it is, I tried to do my best and please also remember that English is not my first language be kind (😩), sorry for any grammar mistake, enjoy it and take care besties! 💖
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Jungkook was insatiable, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you, he has already fuck you senseless on the kitchen counter, the sofa, the living room floor, the restroom sink, simply everywhere, but he seem to want more and more and more, he wanted so much that you could hardly believe it.
Right now you were waking up, feeling incredibly good, feeling like everything was fine, but those emotions were gone as soon as common sense started to come back to you. Yesterday, Jungkook’s hands everywhere, that incredible first orgasm, but the one who made it happen… His scent, his bright eyes, strong arms making you feel like you can do it all, but above all the interest he had in you, what makes you feel on cloud nine it’s the way he seemed to be mesmerized by your expressions and sounds, knowing right where to touch without a doubt. Almost every space in your skin was painted by the ferocity with which he seems to love you, that marks on your skin being the carnal representation of your wonderful night but insecurities started to rise right at this moment, your mother will be mad, she will yell at you that in the pack were more suitable omegas for alpha Jungkook, the nasty glances and the possibility that some of the females in the pack may try to take what is yours, damn, the mere thought of it makes your eyes turn bright red provoked by the sudden rage coursing through your body. Immediately sensing the unpleasant feelings in you Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, wet hair and drops of water running down his body, making your mouth water, so just like magic your body and inner wolf instruct you to crawl to the end of the bed and touch him, to offer yourself to him, second thoughts completely forgotten by now so you follow your instincts and touch and admire from his hard abdomen to caressing his broad shoulders and just show him that look in your eyes, the one he knows like the back of his hand consequence of all the hours spent admiring and getting to know your body.
“Little girl woke up hungry?”
A hand of his goes to your waist and the other caress your cheek and just like fire can light up the darkest place your senses explode inside of you and once again everything feels a hundred times more, all the textures around you, you can hear the sounds of children and women playing in the distance, even the steps of the smallest animal but his deep chuckle brings you to him again and you feel like melting. Even kneeling at the edge of the bed he is much taller than you, (like a shelter for the most difficult moments in life), warm and golden skin beneath your fingertips and the delicious beating of his heart calming all your nerves and insecurities.
You look right back at him with the same intensity, different shades of golden dancing in your eyes while his are different shades of deep purple, the connection between both of you more palpable than never, trying not to break the eye contact you turn your face to his nearest scent gland, which means is his wrist, basking yourself in his delicious aroma.
“I see what you are at puppy, but I’m afraid that I can only deal with you once before I leave”
His last words hit you hard making you feel like drowning and desperate from one moment to another.
“Are you leaving?, I thought that this days… Were for us”
He can see your teary eyes making him wish he had never said that, breaking his heart a little.
“Don’t be like that baby, I will make sure to end that meeting as soon as I can to come back to your arms but you will have to be a good girl and wait here”
You know he is in a hurry but you can not help but want submit to his wonderful hands and simply seduce him to have him eating out of the palm of your hand, have him only for yourself and memorize all his features.
“You promised it, you said you were going to make me a priority always, you lied to me”
You weren’t usually like this, but when he is around your common sense flies out of the window, so while you're throwing a tantrum and moving uncontrollably under his body he grows impatient and his alpha instincts kick in, putting with undeniably force both your wrists above your head and growls, the signal he’s giving you to submit, the air in the bedroom changing its way.
“Pretty girls know how to wait and to obey their alphas, I already told you I was sorry puppy and remember that I don’t fucking owe apologies to anyone, if I knew this wasn’t important I would have told them to fuck up, you should know your place baby, but good news for you, I’m feeling like even though you have been a little bit of a bad girl you deserve to remember me all over this pretty skin while I’m gone, isn’t that what my puppy wanted, huh?”
He manhandles you until you’re comfortably seated en his strong tights, holding his gaze you can see all the things he wants you to know, all that shit that cannot be said, all the things that are not expressed in a good way by putting them into words, so instead you will use your bond and body.
“Sit on my dick slow baby, make it hurt so you have something to remember, get yourself full of my pups”
And you do as you are told, you slip right where you belong to, starting to bounce yourself slow and hard but even though it feels like heaven you feel like you’re going to die because he doesn’t touch you, he is just watching.
“Touch me please or I’m going to hit you hard”
He laughs but you know he's holding back the urge to order you around.
“I love when my little girl turns all bossy”
You wiggle your hips not exactly knowing where to look but what makes you let out a loud moan of his name is the way he thrusts his incredible hips harder than you had planned, tip of his touching the spongy spot that makes you meet god in person.
“If I’m not gonna have you for a while at least show me that fierce side of you one more time baby, gods above, look at you, bouncing tits and pretty face with an even prettier voice filling my ears of pretty sounds, fuck puppy, turn around and see yourself on the mirror”
You tell him to wait a second because you want to remember him like this, beneath your body and that playful smirk but when you do turn a little your face to see the image that bites back at you is incredible, you even smile don’t exactly recognizing you but looking damn hot on top of your man. You can’t with the feelings so the first thing that comes to your mind is to grab a hold of some of his beautiful locks of hair and tug hard, enough for him to gain some more lustful rage and suddenly slam you in the mirror that both of you were looking a moment ago with such excitement, what brings you back to reality of the pleasure that does nothing but increase is the manly hand grabbing at your jaw, making it open slightly, enough for him to spit on it. And you fucking love it.
“That’s a good mate baby, swallow it all and show me”
All this time he hasn’t stopped that sinful hips of his so at this time it’s starting to hurt and you begin to loose all your grips but you now that he will catch you anyways.
All you are feeling is incredible, you fell full, satisfied. Your throat feels hoarse but it doesn’t matter as you held gazes once again, but it’s the whole moment, your own bubble. Watching his pretty eyes you realize that you have won in live, entirely.
“You don’t have a fucking idea of how bad I want to mount you everywhere until I know you are really pregnant, hell baby I love you so fucking much”
He is right in front of your face, both of your moths open but your not kissing, now he’s the one grabbing your hair into a fist but he can do whatever he wants with you right now and all you will say is thank you.
You’re both touching the finish lines and it’s then that you wonder if this is how it will always be, hot, sweaty and just incredible.
He kiss you right at the final, where both of you have reached the peak, smiling at each other like fools but entirely living the dream.
[...]
You know that Jungkook told you to not leave the room until he was back but you were really hungry and needing some fresh air, so knowing that maybe everyone was serving him in that meeting you dared to head for the nearest kitchen to just grab something and come back. You are happy when no one approach you on the way, focusing on the task to make you a quick drink and cut up some fruit.
You feel happy and complete, at ease with the environment despite missing your alpha a bit, but your clothes and body still smell like him so that’s something for now. That’s the same reason why you don’t hear the pretty and stealthy she-wolf approaching the kitchen, watching you closely.
“It stinks in here, you must have had a very good night young lady”
You jump a little because you are not supposed to see anybody in the sensitive state in which you now find yourself.
“Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to be here”
You murmured your words shyly so low that if it were not for the incredible senses of the lycanthrope body, the girl would have miss it.
She chuckles lightly and by her smell you know that she is a rare breed of a female alpha, but right now every smell its simply too much, almost unpleasant.
“No worries baby, no one else is here but me”
She is a little intimidating to be honest and It’s evident that she knows clearly what to do to get what she wants.
“I should… Probably go”
You try to rush towards the exit in order to feel protected inside the four walls where everything smells like Jungkook but just as you are about to walk through the door the pretty girl grabs you a little hard enough to make you let out a whimper. And it’s that exact moment that lets you know that something is awfully wrong, that you should have never left the room.
“Where are you going?, let me talk to you for a moment, I never had the pleasure of knowing you formally”
You know that she can her your heart beating uncontrollably and smell the fear mixed with nerves.
“Don’t be scared pretty thing just wanted to chat with you”
There’s something strange in her, something that you can’t quite put your finger on.
“This shouldn’t be happening, I’m sorry but I really should get back to-”
While interrupting you she is also forcing you to sit on the small benches that are situated in the kitchen only to bring you to a full state of discomfort and nervousness.
“Is Jungkook really into you honey?”
The sudden questions makes you blink twice and hold a breath, this seems like a pointless conversation, she didn’t even try to do some more small talk .
“Pardon…?”
“Oh my, was I too direct?”
You still don’t see the clarity of the conversation because to your eyes she looks like a lunatic, asking questions about of nowhere.
“Honey, it’s just… Have you never heard what is whispered around the pack, about him and the pretty girl of the Kim pack or even worse… The boy with the deadly beauty from the Park family”
You do have heard the rumors, they were too strong when you were younger and more naive.
“I’m afraid that… I can’t help you with anything, I should really go…”
She puts his body in front of yours so that both of her arms are locked on the wall behind you, blocking any way out.
“Damn, just listen to me for a fucking second, I thought that you knew what was best for you”
You sit still because her harsh words came out more like an alpha command and you just couldn’t fight your true nature.
“Good girl”
You would never imagined that such a mundane phrase would disgust you so much.
“I know you don’t like me wolfie but I have been very well aware of the second thoughts that run at full speed in your little head about the bond that you share with that man”
if you had one wish, you would ask to disappear from this awful situation, if only you had listened to your alpha…
“I don’t understand what you want from me, please just let me go, I’m not going to tell Jungkook”
The female alpha just laughs a little, like you have said to her the funniest thing ever.
“He and I are at the same rank honey and of course you will not tell him anything, I have something that might interest you.”
Your posture is defensive but when she says that she backs a little and you take the opportunity to relax only little bit, a new look of curiosity in your angelic and innocent features.
“I don’t want to upset you honey but look at yourself for a second and tell me if you see yourself as the perfect representation of a good mate for someone like him”
She can easily see the insecurity cross your features because if anything has been bothering you since you found out about the bond it is that.
“I have the perfect solution to all of your concerns baby, there’s someone far more suited to take your place. Look at your neck, he hasn’t even marked you, but really, don’t worry and don’t overthink it, he will be in good hands. I know someone who can make the arrangements, all safe and of course you will be having a far more suited alpha”
It’s really stupid, but you actually think about it, as if all the previous moments with him didn't matter. At the end of the day all you're looking for is his well-being and happiness, isn't it?
People are going to talk, that's for sure, but you could assure him better commentaries and a better future, even if it's not by your side, but what will happen with the few moments that both of you have shared?
“In case you were wondering… No, you will not remember, everything will be gone as soon as the bond is broken. Just think about it for a second, remember all your insecurities and the bad feelings while being his mate, that must be annoying, let yourself be happy, both of you”
You are deep in your thoughts so you miss the way her canines grow in size and that dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“I… I’ll do it”
Call yourself a fool, but that tempting offer was enough for you to maybe, just maybe get yourself a better life, but above all a better life and opportunities for him… Or at least that was what your insecure brain thought.
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Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla, @anachikartadze, @jeonwiixard, @seagulljjk
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himbohood · 3 years
Text
facedown - @himbohood​
a repost from my previous blog! i’ll be putting my old writings in my queue just so i can get them back on my blog. wanna be added to my tag list? click here!
paring: calum hood / female reader
about: this is based off of an experience i had with an ex-boyfriend and i started thinking about how this would be if i put calum in that memory instead. thus this was created. uni!sos
warnings: smut.
word count: 1688
The days she wasn’t bombarded with work or classes, she usually took up residency on her boyfriend's couch. Calum Hood split rent with three other guys and at this point in their relationship, she had meshed in well with the group. The atmosphere of the small three-bedroom house was more relaxing than any home Y/N had previously been in. With guitars hanging haphazardly on the wall and concert posters pinned up wherever the boys could fit them— this tiny house had become hers as well. 
She sunk comfortably in the soft cushions of the couch, her legs lying lazily across Calum’s lap. Michael, one of the aforementioned roommates, took control of the TV. He switched back and forth between YouTube channels before landing on a let's player of some sort. Y/N briefly overheard something about Overwatch but then quickly tuned out after that. She didn’t entirely know if it was just how Calum looked with the LCD screen shining back on his strong features— but the urge to crawl into his lap got harder to resist. 
Scooting closer each time he laughed along with his friend, Y/N let her hand brush against his chest. She figured Calum knew what she was hinting at because his hand moved dangerously close to the bottom of her fleece shorts. Y/N cursed herself for not just getting up and texting him to follow her back to his room. Though, she figured this was much more fun. Michael was seemingly oblivious of their silent sexual tension. If she wasn’t in such a haze of arousal, she might have joined in. Her mind just kept drifting away from the reality of the moment. The absolute need to be fucked by her boyfriend was the only thing that was important. Flashes of dirty memories ran through her brain and just the thought was enough for Y/N to fill a flutter in her stomach. She would have done anything at this moment for Calum to bend her over the back of this couch and fuck her senselessly. Maybe if she asked nicely, he’d pull her hair or spank her. 
The thoughts her heavily amplified by his beautiful voice booming about whatever the fuck he and Michael were talking about. She didn’t understand how he could be so subtle at rubbing the soft skin of her thigh. How could Calum not break concentration on his conversation as he gave Y/N the smallest amount of stimulation for her problem? She knew he didn’t want to seem rude, but she could tell by the bulge against her legs that he was just as interested. 
“ I think that I’m gonna go and pick up some food— you guys want to come with?” Michael said, finally getting up and heading towards the exit. 
“Nah, we‘ll pick up something later. Thanks, though.” Y/N finally spoke after Calum did, “Yeah, I’m not really that hungry right now.” 
Whenever that door shut, the two of them had the entire house to themselves. She didn’t have any time to blink before Calum snatched her up and pulled her in his lap. Y/N gasped at the sudden sensation and didn’t wait to roughly grind her hips down onto him. He made the prettiest noises and that only made her problem worse. She was sure that at this point he could just kiss her and she would cum. 
Her voice became a sort of wine as she spoke, “ Cal, please touch me.” It was most definitely a beg because she didn’t have time to take things slow. Michael would be back soon and she really wanted the opportunity to ruin her vocal cords screaming Calums name. 
There was a chuckle and then his lips made contact with her skin. They landed on her collarbone, teeth grazing the soft skin and vibrating it as he spoke. “ What’s gotten into you? Thought you were gonna fuck me in front of Mikey or somthin’” As he spoke he made quick work at pushing her shirt just over her breasts. Y/N let out a soft laugh, at his comment— moaning loudly when he bit the skin right above her breasts. “If we don’t hurry up I might have to fuck you while Mikey watches.” 
Calum let out a low groan and quickly wrapped his arms around her midsection. Lifting Y/N he supported her by placing his hands firmly on her ass. He made quick work at getting them back to his room. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Y/N crawled on the bed. Caum watched in awe as she lay on her back and shimmied off her shorts and underwear. With her legs wide open, she was at full display for him. “You expect me not to eat you out when you look that good?” He teased, walking towards her as he pulled off his clothes. “We’ve got plenty of time for that later,” Y/N promised, discarding her shirt and bra. “If you fuck me well enough, I might sit on your face.” Her face was bright pink after speaking, half distracted by Calum hovering over her. 
“I think I can do that.” 
His hands explored everywhere they could. He saved the best for last. He didn’t tease her, figuring that she had already edged herself just from sitting on the couch earlier. His thumb came in contact with her clit and Y/N let out an almost painfully loud moan. She was slick before he even touched her. That didn’t entirely surprise Calum but god was it pride boosting. “You don’t even need me to get you ready, do you?” His words were a soft mumble, catching her lips in a very much needed kiss. He pulled away just for a moment, getting ready to angle himself in— but before he could she spoke. “Cal, fuck me from behind. I want you deep.” 
Y/N didn’t have to ask twice because before she knew it Cal was directing her to turn around. She rested her head on his pillows, eagerly shaking her ass up at him. “Please fuck me, Cal.”
He lined himself up with her entrance, hand moving to brush down her spine as a sort of warning before he pushed in. She let out a loud, gasping-for-air type of breath when he bottomed out inside of her. “Fuck— Cal, baby you’re so big.” She moaned out, pressing back onto him as if to say more. She put her hands behind her back, asking Cal to hold them without even speaking. She didn’t know if it was her previous begging, but Y/N brought that same energy as he pulled her back against his chest. With one hand gripped tightly on her hip and the other grasped around her breast, Calum made quick work in starting his agonizingly slow pace. 
At the mere thought of friction, Y/N’s knees were weak— but now that she was finally getting what she wanted the idea of being quiet was a joke. The slow thrusts of his hips didn’t last long. Y/N figured he was just getting his balance because soon enough both of his calloused hands landed on her hips. He gave her a kiss that almost read farewell before pushing her face down into the pillows. 
“ Mmph— fuck you look so good like this baby,” his voice filled the room with soft, pleasure-filled mumbles. Y/N could only respond in incoherent gasps and mewls, eagerly bouncing back on his cock in desperation. One hand left her hip and the loss of it almost stung, but it went away when that hand traced up her spine and tangled in her hair. The loud noise of his hips snapping against Y/N ass practically filled the tiny house. 
 Her knees were weak and her forehead was covered in sweat. She tried so hard to tell him that she was close, but whenever her words failed her, she was happy that he just knew. Calum fucked her mercilessly into the bed, his hand now finding her clit and rubbing firm calculated circles against it. 
His name was the only thing that she could think as she fell apart. Screaming his name in praise, in thanks, in rejoice as she came around him. She fell from an unbelievable high and only felt it coming back as he focused on his orgasm. 
She could only imagine how his face looked as he fucked her. His soft grunts were perhaps the most beautiful sound in the world, but what was even prettier was what he said next,
“ Baby— fuck, I’m about to cum.”
She hated that he had to pull out, but the empty feeling was almost made better by the warm ropes decorating her back. 
She relaxed on her stomach as Calum lazily brushed a finger through the mess on her back and pressed a firm kiss to her shoulder. 
“Let me get a towel, yeah?”  and with that, he wandered into his ensuite and wasted no time in cleaning Y/N up. Falling to warm up space beside her, Calum eagerly pulled her on his chest. 
They sat for a moment, relaxing in the post-sex high. His hand brushed through her hair, lips leaving kisses across her forehead. She sighed, nuzzling her face against his chest before doing the same to him. Her fingers ran through his hair and her lips littered his skin. It was quiet for a bit— the world didn’t exist… until, well until Micheal made it known that he had been back for around 15 minutes. 
“ Are you guys done fucking yet? I bought you food, so if you’re not done I’m eating it!” His highly annoyed voice boomed through the house which elicited a laugh from both Calum and Y/N.   
“Fuck,” she laughed, “Guess we lost track of time?” 
“I’m gonna be real honest with you, I forgot he was even coming back.” and with that, the only important thing the two laughed together and rolled out of their haze to get dressed and eat the food Micheal had so graciously got them.
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lipstickbisous · 3 years
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𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
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a/n: this is for @celestialbarnes' 4k writing challenge!! the prompt is "you said you loved me." "i lied." it's funny bc with the character and prompts i actually found this super challenging, but i loved writing it!!
pairing: bucky barnes x reader, former!stucky
summary: when the nightmares come, and the memories return, at least he has you there. and when he doesn't, his ghost appears.
warnings: angst central, mentions of financial struggles, implied suicidal thoughts, reader is a dick, mentions of stucky, sad!bucky, smut; sir!kink, bucky speaking russian, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), choking, creampie, slight cockwarming 18+ MINORS DNI
word count: 3.2k
the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.
masterlist
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
his iron hand is covered in a felt glove that hits the hem of his jacket sleeve, entirely concealing the vibranium from prying eyes. metallic fingers lift a gathering of plastic bags filled with groceries almost tearing through the bottom like he's lifting air. the weight on his left arm hangs with a force of gravity as he struggles to push in the key to his front door. the ceiling lights of his apartment hallway would've been considered tasteful in 1945, but now he could see the shadow of cobwebs and dust collecting on the tops. it created a filter over the lighting that made the hallway look haunted and abandoned.
when bucky had been pardoned by the government, he didn't see it as a sign of hope. he knew that without steve, there was no one to assure that he'd be given a safe home, he'd be protected. and without steve, life had been duller and gray. there had been a blossoming love for the blue-eyed man that sat inside of his chest, and then, it had started to plant itself deep in the burrows of his heart. seaweed-colored vines found themselves tracing the outline of his skeleton, and each leaf that bloomed was another aching memory of him. moments in brooklyn that had taken place decades ago were still fresh and he dreamed of them every night. how was bucky to cut them out by himself?
when he looked up, he saw the tufts of blonde hair underneath the hallway lights. his lips were parted in shock as his heart shattered again. "i'm sorry," he had whispered, shoving his hands together nervously, picking at his nails and the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. bucky's mind was racing, heart was soaring as he approached him, and he wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.
"need help?" a voice echoed through the hallway, and suddenly, the walls didn't seem so haunted anymore. he was gone, but that was for the better because here you were and bucky didn't need anything else. you were light and when his eyes looked up at you, he could've sworn an intake of oxygen forced itself into his 100-year old lungs.
it was an easy answer. bucky didn't need to do it by himself, because just in the moment of his thundering darkness, of the smallest thoughts at would it be like to end it right there, you took a pair of shears and slashed away all the vines. the leaves scattering the insides of his body fell, and the suffocating grip the roots of that toxic love had on his heart were released. bucky could breathe again and steve was forgotten. because here you were.
and god, was he thankful. he only lightly chuckled while a deep red hue took over the skin of his cheeks. you approached him delicately, licking your tongue over your lips for repeated moisture and reached out to take the key from his quivering hand. he stepped to the side with a small smile and allowed you to unlock his door. he'd allowed you so many things, opening so many places he didn't know existed...not even steve could do that. "what'd you buy today?" you asked, grabbing several of the bags he had and set them on his kitchen counter.
he followed your actions and shrugged, "not much," and flipped the switch of his kitchen lights. they were a blaring white-light that made his head hurt if he looked at them for too long. damn it, he thought to himself. new light bulbs were the one thing he'd forgotten while at the store. "just enough to get through the week." he would've offered to cook you dinner, but with the assumption that with this late hour you would've already eaten, he shrugged it off. "what're you here for?"
it was an abrupt question but he didn't mean it with harmful intentions. with a sigh, you crossed your arms and looked to the tile floors. the way he looked at you were if he was a small bird, his wings broken and feathers plucked and you were the only one who could heal him. "i didn't know if you were busy," but the healing was over. he could finally soar again without a limp and you were no longer needed--it hurt to think about for too long. "i didn't want you to be alone."
he could feel his heart swelling to a size ten times larger than what it had been before, locked away in its ivory cage. the only one who had held the key had been him, but you tore it from his hands because he did not deserve it. you did. "i don't want to be a bother to you," he smiled poorly and ineffectively. there was still that small part of james buchanan barnes that doubted everything everyone told him, and you were hoping all the moments in the world spent together could fix that.
"jesus," you mutter with a light breath, one that's small but enough to replenish bucky with life. "you're never a bother to me. i love you." those words would be the death of him. he longed to hear them as he fell from the train, whispered into his ear every time his memory was reset because bucky had never gotten a chance to do something for himself. but this--this relationship, this beautiful thing he had with you--he finally had control. you begin to unpack the groceries he'd gotten, seeing that a carton of black cherry ice-cream was already beginning to melt, but before you get the chance to throw it in his freezer, bucky's ionic arm pulls you by the waist.
the other one grabs your cheek and attaches his lips to yours with an aggressive but desperate kiss that ached with need. he was soft and warm, darting his tongue between the opening to your mouth and letting it meet yours. with the sudden though appreciated action, you let the ice cream carton fall to his kitchen floor, the lid popping off so that white cream and cherry chunks create a puddle near your feet. bucky doesn't dare break the connection of you two as he lifts you by your thighs, hoisting your around his waist and carrying you to his bedroom door.
his lock had been broken when he'd moved into the damp and smelly apartment, so he turned himself around and pushed the door open with his broad back as you peeled the fabric that covered his chest. his shirt was dismantled to the side, left to find sometime in the morning. "james-" you whispered through your kiss because, as he'd told you the one night you had shared dinner, you were the only one allowed to say that name. that small part of him that was still james buchanan barnes wanted to hear it from your lips only.
"sh," he quickly silenced you, placing you underneath him on his mattress like you were a delicate feather, and a touch too rough would turn you to dust. his metallic fingers pulled the ragged jeans you'd chosen that morning, leaving your legs bare to the freezing air of his home. he noticed the way your skin prickled with the cold and immediately engulfed your lower half with him. you were soothed with a loving rush of warmth as he peppered wet kisses around your thighs and waist. the bumps on your skin were gone and you felt whole again. his kisses moved to your stomach as he crawled over you with a look in his eyes you'd seen before.
"please, james," you threw your head back once his lips latched themselves to your neck. one arm wrapped around your torso, supporting your back, and the other was tracing the outline of your body with gentle touches. trailing from your shoulder to your waist, to the place between your legs that ached. cotton panties clothed your bottom and front, but they'd have to do more to get in his way.
he looks away for one moment and freezes. there he is, sitting in the chair bucky had placed in the corner of his room. he wore only a tight pair of black boxers and it clung to his skin like a second layer. his hair, dirty blonde and greasy, hung on his forehead. he had his head propped on his hand, watching intently at you both. but when your hands cupped his cheeks, and pressed him closer to you, he disappeared and the anxiety melted into your touch.
the tip of his finger pressed directly on your clothed clit as soon as he began to suck on your jaw, pushing your head back even more than before. "baby," you immediately clenched around nothing, squeezing your hand around the metal limb and he could've sworn you almost bent it.
his chuckle was deep and rumbled from his chest so that it vibrated your entire body underneath him. "what do you want, honey?" his voice dripped with fox-like slyness and his smirk had you flooding into his head.
"make me feel good..." you trailed off, eyes fluttering shut so you never noticed him move lower down your body. he pulled your panties to the side and pressed his tongue flat against your folds, so your warmer and wetter than before. his spit mixes with your fluids when he rips the cotton into shreds and throws it next to your head. "please, sir," you croak and bucky growls into your core between your legs. you wrap them around his neck and his face only reddens a tiny bit when his primary focus becomes exploring the inside of your heat. his tongue darts past your opening, wet as he pushes through the barrier only slightly stretching you. the muscle is tight and clamps down around him, but he lets the tip of his tongue push up, down, to the sides, and up again.
you released the pressure around his neck mostly because the addition of his finger against your bead was more than enough to handle. "i know you love that, doll," he whispers against your cunt, literally dripping juices from his mouth. it trails down his chin where it sticks to the curve of your ass. "love my fingers toying with your little pussy, edging you so you can cum all over my mouth," his words are filth, but then again, he has his face shoved against your wet lips, his nose bumping that sensitive spot so you moaned even louder with every passing second.
your nods are stuttered with a, "yes, sir," before he pulls away, placing both of his hands by your shoulders and meeting your eyes. you whine and groan, letting your hips rub the air for some sort of friction and bucky only smirked. gone was the thought of him and here was the beautiful presence of you. he began to unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding over the boxers covering his manhood. he held his weight in his hand, giving small strokes so he grew firmer and heavier, rubbing the head through your folds to gather your slick. you moaned, "no, james, let me help-"
his fingers took your chin so your eyes drew from his length and met him. "i just want you," bucky whispers inches away from you and pressed himself against your hole, stretching open your walls so you suffocated him. "so perfect, doll, so fucking tight."
your moan took control of his heart, leaving a clenched fist squeezing the muscle in his chest. you pressed your head into his hand he'd placed underneath you, curving your back so he rutted into a new angle. "m-more, sir," you whispered breathlessly, and it almost came out with a rasp.
"what was that, little girl?" he sneered, smirking into your ear. you could feel hot breath fanning against the side of your head, an addition to the pleasure in between your legs. his fingers trailed down your stomach with a little tickle to wear your clit dragged against his length as he continued to set a brutal pace. his balls met your ass with every pounding thrust, and his fingers harshly pinched your clit. "this good enough for you, baby doll?"
your nods are rapid and desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he hits that spot inside you. he notices it when he does--your mouth twitches and your hand shoots up to the wrist that holds your clit when he begins to rub it. "yes, sir, t-thank you," your voice cracks, words are staggered, and it's exactly how bucky likes to see you. vulnerable because he made you this way. all undone just for him.
the hand underneath your head manages to wrap around your neck, applying a pressure that cuts off your air supply. "fuck, sweetheart, this cunt's wrapped around me so tight," all of the pain, all of the suffering, and all of the dreams of ending it were nonexistent in moments like these. everything that was remnant of him was gone and for once, bucky was okay that. "so fucking perfect," he cried, eyes watering when you clenched down around him. his ghost no longer haunted him in both the shadows and light. it was like you scared him away, arms defensively shielding bucky from any harm that he could possibly cause. and yet, here you were, unraveling like a thread from a sweater simply because he could do it to you.
the pressure on your pearl, his thumb ensuring you couldn't fully breathe, and the way he continuously rammed into your sensitive spot, you were so close. you could already feel yourself just barely letting go around him, and he could too. "not yet, malen'kiy," he grinned, leaning down so his lips dragged over your chest down to where you bud clung to the cold air of his home. his eyes met yours with a playful glance as soon as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, immediately sucking harshly.
"you're evil," you manage to giggle cutting yourself off with an unexpected, pornographic moan when his teeth nipped down around you. he pulls his hand away from your neck to hear what other noises you have to give.
his chuckle was deep once again and this time, it vibrated your entire body. both of your bodies fluidly moved together, pushing and messing up the sheets he'd tightly fitted against his mattress earlier that day. you knew there'd be a puddle of your juices left on the blankets, and like always, you'd offer to wash them for him and bucky would decline. "just cum, doll," he speaks lowly. he's teasing you and he knows it.
"c-can i please cum, sir?" you batted your eyes, innocently pouting for a release. it was close and painful to hold it back any longer, growing more intense with every moment passing.
the smirk played on his lips was threatening and scary. you couldn't even remember all the times he'd denied you of an organism, pushing you over so that your toes dangled off the edge of the cliff only to pull you back. with his lips still wrapped around your bud, his hips still jutting against yours like he was a rabid dog, grunting and groaning, he spoke clearly, "cum."
if bucky could record your moans, cries, sobs, and screams--and maybe he has...--he'd listen to it until the day he died. your thighs shook around his hips, somehow loosening and tightening yourself. as you flooded around him, he could feel the warmth surrounding his length and just as you finished convulsing, clawing his vibranium arm and pulling at his hair, his tip brushed harshly against your cervix.
"fuck!" he groaned, as a shot of white fluid filled you to brim, leaving a heavy weight that spilled out with a tickle when he finally pulled from you. "oh, honey..." he must've stayed inside you for an hour, collapsing so his chest met yours and his kisses stayed on your jaw. and when the emptiness did return, leaving you to miss his cock already, he watched your eyelids fall heavy with sleep. bucky pulled the blanket over you, falling slump next to your body and wrapping his arms around yours.
your light snores and breaths were music that lulled him to sleep. the white noise he needed because the silence was scary now. he'd stayed awake for two hours after you'd fallen asleep, watching the way your chest rose and fell with an inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale pattern. and when his eyes drifted over to the armchair in the corner of his room, his ghost was no longer there to taunt him.
time flew and morning came, like always. and like always, you left without anything to wear underneath your pants and a kiss on the lips from him.
his feet padded throughout his apartment floor, wearing nothing more than black boxers and a cheap cotton t-shirt he'd gotten that barely protected him. he strolled over to his window that overlooked the street, and chuckled when he noticed you discreetly limp to your car. as you drove away, creating a distance between you, that darkness that overtook his soul returned. your presence drifted and no more could he hold you, and now, the vines began to grow.
they grew lethal thorns, bloomed toxic blossoms around his heart. he began to suffocate again, feeling a pain his chest that only you could alleviate. but now you were gone. it was when bucky wandered into his kitchen with sagging shoulders, he stepped into a wet puddle of melted ice cream and black cherries. it covered the ball of his foot with a sticky, gross layer and he collapsed.
he folded, leaning into his lap and holding his head in his hands. tears leaked into his palm, slipping through the cracks of his fingers and onto the floor. his face turned a bright red, only this time it was due to a rush of blood and an oncoming headache. he cried your name, he cried his name, and on the third body-racking sob of a garbled "steve", it was like he had summoned his arrival.
his phantom presence left a chilling feeling in the air. and without even having to look up, bucky knew that this version of steve wasn't even real. this wasn't his ghost. this wasn't him. this wasn't him returning to see bucky because he cared. this was a part of bucky's imagination, a sick and twisted form of therapy because when bucky didn't have you, he had nothing else. "you said you loved me," he had cried, biting down on his knuckles and wrist. when he met his blue eyes with a heartbroken glance, steve's expression didn't budge.
bucky had created this version of steve--this evil and cruel version of him that only made this heartache worse. he brought this torture on himself and now, he could barely handle it.
he stood, towering above him with his fists clenched. his eyes bore a hot hole in bucky's skull and every passing moment was hell. there were flames beginning to engulf bucky's body, burning his skin and leaving him as a pile of dust. after all, that's what he had been for those past five years, leaving him to learn that he didn't really need bucky. and that tore every part of him apart.
"i lied." he muttered, lips tight against his teeth as if it hurt him to say it. but still, he stood above bucky with an emotionless stare.
his cries filled the walls of his home for the rest of the day, waiting for the next chance he got to hold you again.
mutuals: @balenciagabucky @cloudystevie @honeyloverogers @steebsbabygirl @ronimina @honeychicana @fairytaleseb @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @avengersbau @bvckysmoon @sapphireplums @a-little-counter-esperanto @letters-to-esme @capsiclecevans @babyyhoneyydarling @honeysucklesteve
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sunpopp · 3 years
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Warm to The Touch | {CCH}
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→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.
• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff
• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare
Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.
Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.
You can't help but smile.
Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.
He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.
But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.
Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.
Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.
Stupid mistake.
It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.
"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.
When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.
With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.
"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.
"I was asleep!"
"Your problem, not mine!"
___
"Alright, up you go."
"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."
"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."
Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.
"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.
"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.
"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."
"Oh my god I'm gonna-"
"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."
He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.
You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.
He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.
"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.
"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.
You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."
Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"
"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."
"Oh? Where?"
"The bone zone-"
"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"
You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."
"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.
"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.
"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.
Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.
Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.
"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."
"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.
"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."
"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"
That's your queue.
Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.
Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.
Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.
You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"
"Yes."
"Damn."
"Kidding."
"No you weren't."
"Yes I was."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.
You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.
"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."
Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.
"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"
"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.
"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.
"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.
"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"
"Yeah.. still hurts.."
"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.
"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.
Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"
"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.
"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"
"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.
"Awe, look at you..."
And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.
You give him exactly what he wants.
Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.
"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.
He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."
You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.
"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.
You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"
Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.
"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.
"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.
"And what's the problem with that?"
"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."
"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."
"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.
It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.
"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"
He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.
"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"
"In a second. I'm tired."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."
"... You are such a handful."
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@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1
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littlemisspascal · 3 years
Text
Death and an Angel part 11
Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader
Summary:  “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,511
Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot
Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed. 
Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12
Cross-posted on AO3.
Photo Inspiration:
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You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.
However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.
However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.
Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.
Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.
“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.
You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.
“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”
The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.
With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.
“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”
The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”
He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.
“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”
You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”
Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.
“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”
And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.
~~
The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.
Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.
As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.
Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.
It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.
You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.
~~
You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.
“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”
It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.
You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.
There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.
Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.
The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?
Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?
You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.
“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”
Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.
“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.
“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”
Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.
Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”
“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.
You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“
Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.
“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.
But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.
You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s begin.”
~~
The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.
His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.
Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.
As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.
She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.
“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.
He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”
“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”
“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.
“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”
“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.
She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”
“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.
“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”
Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.
He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”
“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”
Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.
“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”
“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”
Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.
His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.
“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”
Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.
“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”
The transmission goes dead.
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vistarya · 3 years
Text
i just need ocd in media to diverge from the perfectionist stuff a bit more.
growing up i had no idea that not all ocd looked the same—rearranging pencils on your desk, stacking books smallest to largest, fixing a crooked picture frame. even after i learned a bit more about the extent of it in psychology classes (people who go home to check the stove in the middle of the day, people who have to wash their hands constantly, people who lock and relock their doors seven times just to be sure,) i still didn’t know i should apply it to myself until my psychiatrist mentioned it. i had no idea what he was talking about! and he was just like,
“uhhh yeah you can’t turn around if you’re walking in public and realize you’ve been going the wrong way? you can’t order food using more than one sentence, and not a single item over three words long? you have all these arbitrary rules you’re making for yourself just to get through the day with a manageable level of anxiety, and all they actually do is hinder your everyday processes? do you even know what ocd is?”
and i’m sitting there like, damn, i guess the fuck not!! because not all of it is life shattering. the obsessive need to always step over the same amount of sidewalk cracks with your left foot as your right isn’t always discernable from the silly games kids make up for themselves on a quick walk to school. the compulsion to wash your hands after coming home or touching something that might be dirty if you think about it too hard won’t look like a compulsion if it’s a habit for everyone else.
if other people can’t see how it affects you, sometimes you end up believing there’s nothing to see at all. just because i don’t have a panic attack after stepping on a slightly thicker sidewalk crack with one foot and not the other doesn’t mean i won’t feel fundamentally unbalanced for the rest of the day. just because washing hands after you leave the house is a good habit doesn’t mean my skin should crawl for hours if i don’t.
not every compulsion is going to be considered disordered. my sidewalk crack obsession has more or less faded out of relevance (unless something gets me thinking about it in the moment) and doesn’t usually affect my daily life anymore, let alone drastically enough to be considered disordered. my hand washing however got worse after covid, and has frequently gotten in the way to the extent that i couldn’t touch anything until i washed my hands. (and if i did touch anything, there’s a pretty good chance i wiped it down afterwards.) these things aren’t always noticeable, because they’re small, or considered good habits.
but the bigger things that affect your quality of life aren’t always immediately recognizable either, because ocd has been trapped in this rigidly-defined stereotype (especially by pop culture) for so long that it’s difficult to imagine just how many other forms it can take. it’s diverse from person to person and it can change over time. it doesn’t always look like perfectionism and it doesn’t always throw you into a full-on mental breakdown (even if the intrusive thoughts are always there).
i guess i just want a little more understanding of (gesturing to all of the above) that, in the media, because media is so integral to my life, both as a creator and a consumer, and it has such a powerful hand in shaping the way society grows and thinks. it’s already so rare that ocd is portrayed at all, much less with respect, so,
yeah i think it would be cool if we could have a little more variety when approaching ocd in media.
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carelessannie · 3 years
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For the prompt thing, I’ve been loving all your winterspider content and I would love to see you write something involving insecurities? Bucky with his metal arm or Peter with how he looks. Go wild, I’d love anything you’ll give me!!
Literally so sweet Rarsa, I love this prompt. And I’m so thankful for all your support and love— hope this one makes you happy.
Alt title for this is: what happens when the things you are insecure about are actual what turns your partner on the most?
Warnings: body image (both disability and weight/size related), hot and sexy smut, coming untouched, cum play and eating, fluffy love confessions, Bucky has a dirty mouth
“Don’t touch it!” Peter squeals, slapping away Bucky’s grabby hands as they pinch and pull at the tiny bit of pudge around his middle. Bucky loves his curves, goes absolutely crazy for them, and is always manhandling Peter into different positions where he can see more.
He currently has Peter bent in half on the bed, both legs resting on Bucky’s shoulders as he thrusts slowly, enjoying the tight, wet grip of Peter’s hole as their bodies slide together lazily.
Bucky expects retribution as Peter turns his head to the side, searching out Bucky’s metal fingers and sucking one into his mouth. Damn, his mouth looks like sin around the sleek metal, and Bucky groans as he snaps his hips. He tries to pull his fingers away, but Peter reaches out, grabbing Bucky's wrist with both hands.
“Pete, baby—" he warns, and uses his flesh hand to pinch one of the small rolls on Peter’s stomach. His smaller lover shrieks, releasing his hold just enough to let Bucky pull his arm away.
When they resume their pace, Bucky refrains from teasing Peter any more and focuses on hitting his sweet spot, nailing Peter’s prostate with every thrust.
“Uh, uh, uh— B-bucky! Uh, fuck, right there,” Peter wails and throws his head back, reaching down to get a hand on his aching cock— and Bucky bats it away, draping his body over Peter’s and pinning his hands.
“Nuh uh, baby,” Bucky growls, “you’re comin’ on my cock tonight.”
Peter’s eyes widen in shock, and then he absolutely melts in Bucky’s hold, body going limp and pliant to be used. And fuck, does Bucky use and use and use.
He can feel Peter fluttering around his cock, clenching down rhythmically and letting Bucky know just how close he’s getting. Bucky is right there. His orgasm builds, drawing his balls close into his body, and he shifts— fucking into Peter even harder, holding both of his wrists together, before shoving two of his metal fingers in Peter’s mouth.
“Suck.” He demands, thrusting his fingers in time with his hips and filling Peter completely from both ends. Peter’s eyes roll back. His whole body shudders in Bucky’s grip, and falls apart, spilling wet and slick across his stomach.
Bucky can’t wait any longer, and he pulls out fully, dropping Peter’s legs to the bed as he strips his cock. Moments later he’s coming— loudly and violently— across his lover’s body, watching with lidded eyes as Peter distractedly sucks his fingers.
Now for his favorite part.
Bucky pushes Peter farther up the bed, settling between his legs with arms under his hip, hoisting them up. Peter groans and throws back his head, “Honestly, Bucky?” he protests, but Bucky ignores him, focusing on the sticky mess coating Peter’s lovely tummy.
He sucks a mark right below Peter’s navel, enjoying how it makes his young lover whimper. Using long, flat strokes of his tongue, Bucky laps up the cum slowly drying on his skin, humming at the taste and swallowing greedily. With the next mouthful, he lunges forward, cupping Peter’s cheek and sealing their mouths together. Peter sighs and opens, letting Bucky push more of their shared release inside, before Bucky crawls back and resumes his worship, his praise of Peter’s body.
Every so often, Bucky will give his ass a light smack and watch it jiggle, following it up with a playful nip. He knows Peter secretly likes the attention, even if he’s upset about the extra weight he’s put on at college. Bucky loves him both ways.
Once every drop is cleaned up, Bucky lifts Peter over his shoulder and walks them both to the bathroom. Peter grunts, but otherwise doesn’t put up a fight as Bucky sits him down on the sink, wetting a washcloth to finish cleaning them off.
Every time they fuck, Bucky insists on cleaning them up after. He tells Peter it’s because he hates the sticky mornings, but really it’s because the arm does not do well with dried fluids. Peter caught on quickly— he’s getting his master’s in engineering, of course he did— and always puts his hand out expectantly for the washcloth.
“C’mon Bucky— you cleaned me up, let me take care of you.”
And Bucky drops the washcloth into his hand with a sigh, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as Peter carefully cleans the joints on his fingers, his wrist, the front and back of his elbow, and up to his shoulder. At some point he exchanges the washcloth for a microfiber, cleaning off even the smallest pieces of dirt and dust from the day.
When he finishes, Peter dots a half dozen kisses up and down Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to cover every scar with love and affection. Every time, it makes Bucky shudder, helpless love taking him apart piece by piece. Bucky rests his forehead against Peter’s when he finishes, and they share a few deep breaths.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Peter whispers, kissing the underside of Bucky’s jaw. He nods, and they take a moment to brush their teeth, erasing and renewing the taste of each other with soft winks and even softer kisses.
They fall back into bed heavily, already curled together as Peter turns off the lights. Bucky turns them, spooning Peter from behind, and traces light circles on his warm skin.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Peter mutters, turning to look over his shoulder.
Bucky just kisses the back of his neck, humming, “I’m gonna love every inch of you, Pete.”
He can almost hear Peter smile in return, squeezing Bucky’s hands and deliberately running a few fingers over his metal palm.
“M’gonna love all of you, too, Bucky.”
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1987vampire · 4 years
Text
All Yours | Tomura Shigaraki
Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku No Hero Academia Word Count: 5k Warnings: Smut. Kinks include: A/B/O (Omega!Shigaraki x Alpha!Reader), FemDom, Mommy Kink, Bratty Shigaraki (in the beginning), light bondage, face riding, spit kink, cockrings, praise kink, light degrading kink, choking, pegging, crying kink, overstimulation, etc. Request: I just really wanted to write a Shigaraki fic. A/N: This is just me being horny on main. I love this lil dude, and there are not enough Sub!Shigaraki fics around here.  Extra: @babayaga67​ and @imuziawi​ asked me to tag!
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I almost hadn’t recognized the smell as I turned onto my street. At first, I wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from, and I thought I might have just been delusional. After all, he had disappeared for quite a bit, but he had a distinct smell, a mix of citrus – the scent of his body wash -, smoky ash – a side effect of his quirk -, and vanilla cake - a sweetness that came with every omega in heat. I was surprised that there weren’t alphas lined around the block with how loud the smell was, but I was certainly glad I wouldn’t have to fight anybody off to get home.  
I fumbled with my keys for a few moments once I reached the door, mixing up and trying to unlock it with the wrong key multiple times. Once I finally opened the door, though, I was hit harder than I had anticipated, his pheromones coating every inch of my apartment. Hell, I thought walking here was terrible, but this was on an entirely different level.
Had he stopped taking his blockers? Being a villain and omega at the same time was certainly not a great mix, especially when he was the leader of a significant group, so he had taken to blocking off any indicators of his status, claiming to be a beta whenever someone asked. Something must have changed if it got this bad.
I closed the door and locked it in a fluid motion, dropping my keys and bag on the floor right after. I shuffled through the house, trying to figure out where he had holed himself up. I assumed he had made a nest somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where. He never kept it in the same spot, claiming it got uncomfortable being in one place for too long, and he always chose the strangest places. Once I had found him and half of my closet in one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen because ‘everywhere else was too goddamn loud.’
I looked through each room thoroughly, and after a few minutes of not finding him, I entered my bedroom. I was surprised at how much louder the smell had gotten. It wasn’t normal for him to choose such a basic place. My bed was missing half of its usual blankets and pillows. My clothes were strewn across the floor, ones he had ditched after not liking them enough, I guessed. I checked around the dirty area for a moment before approaching my closet.
I knocked quietly on the door, listening intently. A quiet groan met my ears, and I dropped to my knees in front of the door. He was in there. There was no doubt about it. “Tomura,” I called out quietly, not wanting to hurt him if he had a headache. He usually did during this time. “Tomura, may I come in?”
There was the sound of him shuffling and pushing a few things around before he made a noise of affirmation and pushed the door open a bit. I opened it the rest of the way and let out a sigh at the sight of him. He looked worse than usual, new scabs over the already scarred skin of his neck. Something had been stressing him out immensely.
Still, he looked pretty, his eyes half-lidded from being tired but still bright as ever, and his ordinarily messy hair even worse than usual. He wasn’t wearing much besides a pair of sweatpants, his chest bare and sweaty, new scratch marks crawling down from his neck. He was panting, practically drooling, but his lips still quirked up into the smallest of smiles when he locked eyes with me.
I hesitantly placed a hand inside his nest, afraid he would kick me out at the movement, but he stayed still, almost coaxing me into his area. So, I continued, crawling in slowly, trying not to mess up any of his work. He had to have been here for a while by how it looked. I wasn’t sure when he had gotten here, but I had been at work for ten hours before coming home, so there was no telling.
Tomura curled up to me almost instantly, letting out a low whine as he pushed his face into my chest. His arms wrapped around my hips, pulling me closer. I instinctively wrapped mine around his head, leaning down to press a kiss to his matted hair. I had almost gotten comfortable, ready to just sleep it off with him – after all, that’s what he seemed to want to do – but the thought was interrupted by him opening his mouth, pressing his rough flattened tongue between my breasts, and licking a fat stripe up to my neck.
The change in my mood was instantaneous, and I switched our position from both of us laying sideways to me kneeled above his chest. He moved to try and pull me down onto him, but I grabbed his hands and held them above his head, grinning as he let out a loud whine, his eyes growing wider as he stared up at me.
“You do know that it’s rude to do that without asking, right,” I mused. His face flushed red, and he turned it to the side, avoiding eye contact. Oh god, when was the last time he had acted like this. I was getting excited at just the thought. “Now, why would you do that without permission. Did you miss me that much?” When he didn’t move to answer, I chuckled and grabbed his face with one of my hands, pulling it to look at me. “Come on, babydoll. I need your words. Talk to me.”
He huffed loudly but complied. “You weren’t doing anything, so I had to.”
I tutted and shook my head. “You can’t just get things without asking. You have to tell me what you want. Staying silent gets you nowhere. You know that; we’ve talked about it, baby.” He stared up at me, biting back words. I sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, then I’ll just let you take care of yourself.” I let go of him and began to lift myself off of him, but he moved faster and gripped my thighs, pulling me back onto him harshly. For someone as skinny as he was, he could sure be strong at moments. His nails dug into my skin harshly, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re needy today, aren’t you.” I quirked an eyebrow and leaned down so we were face to face. “Come on, Tomura, tell me what you want.”
He took a shaky breath before replying. “I want you to make me cum,” he grumbled, blinking up at me. “I hate being like this, but nothing I do helps it.”
I shook my head. “And what have you done to deserve me giving you that pleasure? You’ve disappeared for the past two months – I only knew you were alive because they talk about you on the news – but because you hit your heat, suddenly you’re running back with your tail between your legs. Hell, I should leave you to take care of yourself - you obviously don’t need me.”
“I didn’t come back just to listen to you bitch.” His words were bitter, and I could tell he regretted them as soon as they slipped past his lips, but the damage was already done. His eyes widened, and he scrambled to try and escape from underneath me. I let him climb to his feet before pushing his knees out from under him as he tried to run out of the room. He stumbled and fell face-first onto the floor, groaning loudly.
“Are you serious,” I yelled, standing over him. He flipped onto his back, and I pushed my foot onto his chest, holding him steady. “Are you seriously trying to piss me off, you asshole?”
He grinned up at me. “And what if I am? What are you going to do about it?”
I pulled off of him, practically shaking from anger. “Get up.”
“Or what?”
I let out a deep snarl. “Tomura, get your ass off of the fucking floor before I turn it beet red.”
He licked his teeth suggestively and stood slowly, taking as much time as he could. Once he was up, a grabbed his shoulders roughly and pushed him onto the bed. He let out a loud laugh as he fell back, propping himself up on his elbows and watching me as I rolled my eyes. I moved towards my dresser, opening it and moving aside clothes covering what I needed. Ropes were the easiest thing to find considering how many I had, but the other toys took a bit of digging.
Once I was satisfied with my finds, I moved back to the bed and straddled him, grabbing the rough skin of his wrists and pulling them up to the headboard. There was a small hook drilled right above it precisely for this. I wrapped the rope around his hands, knowing the knots like the back of my hand from how often I had done it.
When our relationship first started, Tomura wasn’t too keen on bondage or not being in control, but once I had convinced him to try it, he had never wanted anything else. I knew he found some comfort mixed with the anxiety of being completely at my mercy, and I certainly enjoyed it. I could sit and stare at him in this position for hours, hands bound above him, eyes looking at me with apprehension but excitement, pants already straining even though I hadn’t done anything. It was a beautiful sight.
He tugged gently on the restraints, testing them, and he let out a shuddering sigh once they didn’t budge, settling into the bed. I picked myself off of him and stood to the side, humming lowly as I tried to figure out where to start. Then, he spoke up. “Well, are you going to do anything?”
“Not if you keep up that attitude, I won’t,” I snapped back. “You sure do love using your mouth tonight, might as well put it to use.”
He furrowed his brows in confusion only to perk up as I began to shed my shirt, popping button after button of my blouse until I was able to throw it onto the floor, adding to the mess he had already created. Then came my shoes, which I kicked off to the side, followed by my pants, leaving me in only underwear. Then, I climbed onto the bed again and grabbed his face harshly, squeezing his cheeks so his lips were puckered. His eyes widened with excitement, and it made me chuckle a bit.
“You’re certainly eager tonight, even with that mouth of yours,” I said, placing a kiss to his lips, “miss mommy that much?” A high-pitched chirp passed his lips, and I grinned. “Now, are you going to work for your reward, or are you going to make this hard?” When he stayed silent, I continued, my voice low as I moved to kiss the rough skin of his throat. “Are you gonna let mommy ride your face?”
Tomura nodded, and it was much more excited than I’m sure he intended it to be. I moved and placed my knees on either side of his head, and I had barely had enough time to run my fingers through his hair before he lunged forward, licking a stripe up my clothed pussy. I let out a shuddering sigh of content followed by a low, deep moan when he did it again. When was the last time he had helped me get off instead of my own hands and toys? He was so warm underneath me, his cheeks flushed and breathing heavy enough to send heat up to me.
Before he could move forward again, I grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pushed him down into the bed. He whined, but I ignored it. “Give me a second, baby. Just one second.”
He stayed still, and I let go of him. I then reached down and pushed my panties to the side, giving him new skin to touch. He loved it when I still wore underwear when we fucked, saying it ‘just added something to it.’ I certainly didn’t mind the extra coverage, even if it wasn’t anything sexy considering I had been at work.
Once I was comfortable, I grabbed his hair again, softer this time, and lowered myself onto his mouth. He stayed still, knowing not to move, and when I mumbled to go, he wasted no time in getting to work. His tongue found my clit almost immediately, circling it at an excruciating pace that made me groan quietly. I should have known he would try something like this, I thought as he moved down, pressing a flat tongue against my opening before dipping into it slowly. The wet sounds that came from the action made things so much better, but I could already feel myself getting fed up. I didn’t want to wait, I wanted him to work, so I vocalized it. “Tomura, baby, if you don’t go faster, you’re not cumming tonight.”
He chirped in distress and pushed farther up, lapping at me like he was a starving man and I was the only meal in sight, and when he began to get tired, I ground against his face, making him moan onto me, a deep groan that sent sparks through my stomach.  When we had first started, he was completely inexperienced, only knowing the basics from the porn he watched, but porn was nothing like real life, and I was there to teach him that. Luckily for me, Tomura was always up for eating me out whenever given the opportunity, he loved to serve me as much as he loved to take, and he showed his devotion like this. He took his time, but moved quickly, pressing all the right spots. He had my body memorized at this point, and when I came, he didn’t let up until I pulled away, making sure I reached the utmost pleasure.
When I finally did pull away, the sight was something worthwhile. He laid gasping up at me, his face thoroughly flushed a pale red that crawled down his chest. His lips, chin, and nose were covered in a thin layer of my fluids mixed with his spit. His eyes pled for me to praise him, tell him that he was doing good, and I was happy to oblige.
“You look so pretty like this, doll,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as I traced my hand along his bulge. “Are you all worked up just for me?” Tomura nodded hastily, letting out a sigh of content as I rubbed him softly. “You’re mommy’s little boy, aren’t you, Tomu?” He nodded again and kissed back feverishly when I pressed my lips to his. “Say it, then. Say it for me, baby.”
“I’m your little boy, mommy,” he cried out, letting out a high-pitched moan as I drew him out of his pants, my fingers dancing along the head of his dick. “I’m all yours, I promise.”
I laughed. “All mine? Really?”
He nodded, his breath hitching as I moved down and took him into my mouth. “All yours- ah- ahh-“ He pulled at his restraints and let out a chirp as I pressed forward until my nose touched his hipbone. He bucked up to match my movement, but I grabbed his hips and pushed him down.
I pulled off of him with a pop. “Stay still,” I growled and moved back down. He let out a full-body shudder, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were rolled back, lips parted in a silent moan, and his arms pulling against his ropes to no avail.
“Please, I just-“ he bucked his hips again, and I growled lowly with his cock still in my mouth, making him cry out in ecstasy only to whine when I let go of him.
“I told you to stay still,” I grumbled as I reached for one of the toys I had brought out. He stiffened at the sound of something vibrating and watched me as I slid a pretty, pink cockring down to the base of his cock. He tensed and then let out the prettiest sound, throwing his head back at the stimulation.
I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. He panted, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stared up at me. I pressed my thumb against his jaw and opened his mouth a bit more. He blinked blearily, confused, and then let out a surprised chirp when I spit directly into his mouth.
“Swallow it.” He complied, making a show of closing his mouth and swallowing loudly. He looked away out of embarrassment, making me chuckle. “You said you were all mine, babydoll. Are you going to listen to me now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy,” I cooed. He preened at the statement, arching his back up towards me. I slid my hands up his chest to his throat and held the sides, restricting his blood flow as I pressed another kiss to his lips. He hummed lowly, a low whine of need. “Alright, you get to choose now. Do you want me to ride you or fuck you, Tomu?”
I let go of his throat so he could speak easier, but he didn’t respond, merely staring at me, conflicted. “I- I don’t know-“ he choked out. “I-“
A plan set itself in my head, and I gave him a devious smirk. “Do you want both? Do you not want to choose?” He stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Just a yes or no, baby.” He paused before nodding. “I need words.” I dragged my thumb across his bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it pop back into place.
“Yes, please, mommy, both.”
I grinned and pulled away, climbing off the bed. My strapon was a thick, blue one that I had finally decided to buy after eyeing it for a few days. I never really used it on myself, preferring to make Shiggy a sobbing mess underneath me with it. Once I had even convinced him to ride it; the images still sit in the back of my mind every time I grab it, his soft whines as he rode slowly only to yelp when I bucked up into him at a pace faster than he would have been able to handle.
After stepping in and strapping it to myself tightly, I pulled Tomura’s pants off completely, letting them fall to the already dirty floor with a soft thump. Then, I moved back to my dresser to grab a bottle of lube, flipping it a few times as I watched him. He was panting as his bright red eyes met mine. He was trembling faintly, tugging lightly at the restraints as his cock twitched at the stimulation from the vibrations.
I walked over and climbed between his legs, grinning as I spread them to fit me. He was already leaking slick – something I had forgotten he produced during this time. I didn’t even have to lube my fingers before pressing at his entrance. He moaned lowly and then shut his mouth, looking away as I pushed a finger in. The warmth he provided was incredible, practically inviting me in. It made a loud, wet sound when I pulled out, and I watched him for his reaction.
He let out a shuddering breath but refused to meet my eyes, his face flushing even deeper with embarrassment.
“What’s wrong,” I mused, dipping into him again but this time with a second finger. “What are you embarrassed about?”
He didn’t answer, so I slapped his outer thigh with my free hand. “I- I don’t know,” he grumbled, glancing at me before looking away again.
I raised my body, moving my face towards his while pushing my fingers in until I was knuckle-deep, pushing slick out as I went in. “Look at me, baby.”
He hummed out an ‘uh-uh.’ I curled my fingers, and he let out a moan, his mouth still shut.
“Look at me, baby,” I purred. When he still refused to look, I took to grabbing his face again, forcing him to look at me. My fingers began to move at a steady pace, pumping in and out of him. “Do we need to do the mirror exercise again, or are you going to look at mommy while she fucks you?”
The mirror exercise in question was an exercise in self-confidence that he was subjected to quite often. I would set us in front of a floor-length mirror and fuck him while forcing him to watch so he could see how pretty he looked like this. I was quite a fan of it; he was not so much.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to.” Insecurity laced his voice, and I paused my movements, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek, followed by his forehead, nose, and then mouth.
“Please, bub,” I whispered, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Let me see your pretty, red eyes. Be a good, little boy for mommy.”
His eyes flickered to mine and then away a few times before he huffed and nodded. “I’ll be your good boy.”
I grinned, moving back down. “Then, let me see those eyes, and let me hear your moans, babydoll.”
I surged my fingers forward, and he let out a loud moan at the action. I sucked a hickey onto his inner thigh as I added a third finger, prepping him fully. When I pulled out, noticing how close he looked to cumming, he followed my moves, silently pleading with me to go back, to let him finish. In response, I lined up my cock to him.
My soaked hand crawled up him and pressed against his lips, slowly forcing their way inside. “Open up,” I said, and he did, opening his mouth wide. I pushed my fingers in, curling them around his bottom teeth before letting go. “Suck.” He complied, and I watched, mesmerized as he pulled them farther into his mouth, sucking slowly and running his tongue along my fingers. “Good boy,” I cooed.
He chirped before mumbling something against my fingers. I pulled them out, grinning at the pop they made. He mumbled something again, but I still couldn’t hear.
“What do you need, doll?”
He hesitated before responding in a quiet voice. “Can you spit in my mouth again?”
My brain took a few moments before what he said registered fully. I let out a loud laugh and nodded enthusiastically. “Open your mouth, then.”
He paused and then opened wide, encouraged by my thumb helping drag it open. My other hand gripped his throat as I made him wait in anticipation. He looked like he didn’t believe I would do it before I raised myself off of him a bit and spit, smiling when I watched it hit the back of his throat.
He instinctively shut his mouth and swallowed, a small smile climbing on his face that was quickly replaced with a lewd look as I pushed the tip of my cock into him. He cried out and pulled roughly on the ropes. I almost wanted to take them off, wanting to feel his nails dig into my back, but this sight was nearly as good.
I braced his hips with one hand, the other still pressing against his throat, and then I snapped into him completely. He let out a broken moan followed by a sob, and tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being so full so fast. I pulled out slowly and then snapped in again, receiving the same reaction.
Then, I paused, waiting until he sighed, telling me that he was ready, and then, I set at a brutal pace, plunging into him again and again, reveling in the sounds he made. His cock twitched and twitched, and so I wrapped my hand right above the ring and stroked him to the pace of my thrusts.
“Aghh- ahh- mommy-“ he mewled, “please, please, please, let me cum, mommy, please. I’ll do anything! I’ll be your good little boy, please.” I put my fingers in his mouth again, holding his jaw open as I slammed into him again. He cried against my fingers but kept his eyes open, though they kept fluttering between open and closed. Then, I hit something inside of him that made him throw his head back, clenching his fingers into fists as he yelled. “Please,” he whined against my fingers, “please, mommy, please.”
I hummed and chuckled lowly, leaning forward to nip against his jaw. “Go ahead, doll. Cum for mommy.”
The reaction as instantaneous. He violently shook as he came, spurting strips of cum onto both of our stomachs as a chorus of ‘thank you’s were yelled against my hand. I didn’t stop fucking him though. If anything, I picked up the pace a bit, hitting that little spot in him again and again if his reaction was anything to go by.
Tears began to gather in his eyes, and he shimmied his hips, trying to get me out, but I persisted. He cried out again as I started stroking his cock again, his recovery period nowhere near done, but he still hardened after a few moments, though tears began to stream down his face at the same time. I mumbled praises against his neck as I went, sucking hickeys into the scarred skin. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. So, so good.”
He sobbed loudly and thanked me again, closing his eyes as more tears fell.
“You’re mommy’s good boy, right, baby? You’re all mine?”
“Ye-e-es, mommy,” he whined against my fingers.
“Are you going to let mommy ride your cock?”
He chirped and shook his head. “It’s too much. I can’t take it.”
“Yes, you can,” I purred, pulling out of him slowly. “I know you can, darling, because you’ve missed me so much. When’s the last time you’ve been inside me? I know you’ve missed it.”
He choked out another sob and nodded. “Anything for you, mommy. I’m all yours.”
I switched the cockring to a higher vibration setting, and he tensed his entire body. “You look so pretty like this, Tomu. You’re such a pretty crier.” He shook his head at the statement and sniffled. “Yes, you are, so pretty, and all for me.” The strapon was easy to slip off, and the thud it made against the floor alerted him of what was next. I straddled him effortlessly and lined him up to my entrance, rubbing him gently against my lips. “Such a little whore. Mommy’s little whore.” He preened at the name and sucked in a deep breath as I sunk onto him. “Let me see your eyes, baby.”
His eyes fluttered open and practically rolled into the back of his head as I began to ride him. It wasn’t a fast pace, relatively slow compared to the last activity, but he came in only a few seconds without warning, yelling apologies as he did so. I only laughed in response and then moaned as the vibrating cockring hit my clit in a delicious way.
Tomura was shaking his head again, crying as I rode him and tugging on the restraints to no avail, but he hadn’t said our safeword, so I knew he was fine. “I can’t take anymore, mommy. I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can, doll,” I replied, gripping his throat again. “I just need you to cum one more time for me. Just one more.” He shook his head, but I nodded, picking up speed. He felt so fucking good inside of me, and the vibrations added just the right amount of pressure to where I knew I wouldn’t last long. I was just waiting for him. “You feel so good in me, baby. Do you like how I feel? Do you like being my little whore? My cumslut?”
He nodded. “I do! I do!”
I leaned down and kissed him forcefully, pushing my tongue against his and moaning around his mouth. He chirped loudly and pulsed, and I could tell that the wet sounds we were making were getting to him. “Are you going to cum in me? Going to let me cum around your cock?” He nodded quickly and chased my lips when I pulled away. Strings of saliva connected the two of us, and the sight of it made me even more excited. “Let me feel you, Tomu. Cum for me, baby.”
He yelled out, shook forcefully, and then came, and the feeling of him filling me, the warmth of it all, sent me overboard. I was cumming, too, clenching around him and sucking him dry as my face dropped quickly, and I bit him on the juncture between his neck and shoulders where his scent glands were, sealing that he was mine. My property. He sobbed loudly but smiled into me when I pulled up and kissed him again, biting his bottom lip as I pulled away. My hips finally came to a stop, and when I pulled off of him, fluids dripped out of me and onto his pale skin quickly. Then, I turned off the ring and pulled it off of him, much to his relief.
Tomura sucked in a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, sniffling every now and then as I moved to clean the both of us up. I dragged a towel against his skin gently first and then wiped myself off. Next, I reached over and untied the ropes around his wrists. His arms dropped limply once freed, and he didn’t move them. I had almost believed he was asleep for a few moments, but then, his red eyes peered open and met mine.
“Thank you,” he croaked, reaching his hand out to mine. I took it and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
“Come on, do you want a shower? It’ll make you feel better.”
He nodded and lifted himself slowly, groaning at the feeling. “Can you help me,” he whimpered.
I wrapped my arm around his waist and led him up. “I certainly could have gone nicer on you.”
He chuckled, and I did too. “No, I enjoyed it. Thank you.”
I rolled my eyes and kissed his shoulder, leading him to the bathroom. “Maybe a bath would be more relaxing.”
“Either way, I think you fucked my heat right out of me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
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mercysought · 3 years
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@interaconteur​ . ❝ You don’t have to trust me because we have mutual self-interest. And that makes for better partners. ❞ for moe! . the language of thorns + black sails s3 . accepting
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Moe shakes her head with a grin, head tilting downwards as she finishes cleaning off the oil off the tool she’d been using. The dark skinned woman looks up to the other standing just on the other side of her shop; the way he was dressed nobody’d even think that he was a big shot and that was part of the thing, wasn’t it? Because he knew she had a thing against suits? Because just smelling the smallest bit of corporation wrapping their tiny little grubby hands around her code made her skin crawl? Gaming or not, and even if she was dead curious about the things that happened inside of that place (especially hearing the stories that had started pouring from the figurative grapevine)
   “Yeah?” she signs, throwing the piece of fabric over her muscular shoulder. She leans into the counter that separated her workshop from her actual shop. Pristine, a bit messy but it was really the cleanest part of that whole place. Her elbows come to rest on the reflective surface. One of flesh and blood, the other a prosthetic from the back of her upper arm to the mid way through of her forearm. Hell, she wouldn’t say that she wasn’t curious but she knew pretty well that when she felt this curious about something it often just meant she wanted to do it herself. And if she wanted to anything she’d do it solo, she didn’t need to have someone breathing down her neck. She nods towards the door “How about you fuck right off my shop instead, Charlie?”
Plus, didn’t want whatever she came up with to be used anything else. In the end, it was really the fact that she didn’t care much about gaming. In the end, she was almost certain it was because she didn’t like his smart-ass attitude; there was only enough space for that sort of shit for one person. Her. And him in whatever hole he was in. 
She didn’t even like gaming
   “Your self interest is worth shit to me if I can’t enjoy myself after getting my hands dirty. Or if you hung me up to dry.“ and the list didn’t end there. Just the fact he didn’t like his face was enough; though she knew that wasn’t necessarily a good reason “And I’m not really certain you’re looking for a partner. Think the words you’re looking for is a ‘unscrupulous sucker’.“
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canyouhearthelight · 3 years
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The Miys, Ch. 137
Trying to figure out Author’s notes is hard.... Sometimes I just don’t have anything pithy to say, or have too much to say and don’t know where to put it all.
Obviously I am an overthinker.
So, for the sake of everyone reading: Let’s cut to the Shoutouts!
The obvious first: @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog! I love all of you, you are the best.
Special mentions to: @zommbiebro bc I miss you and hope you’re okay. @nekohuntslight for being the OG person to message me about liking the story (yes, Bael, this is the dirty secret behind why I thought you lived in Australia when we first started talking.... shhhhhh). And alllllll the binge readers who blow up my inbox every day, Iloveyousomuchyoudon’tunderstand. Very much adore all of you, you have no idea how serious I am being right now. I need to go through and make one post just screaming all your names to the universe.
Tyche brought drinks and snacks from my kitchen before flopping on the couch in my quarters. The guys were at work, along with Antoine, but my office was closed down for the day. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” she asked.
“Vati and Hannah have everything planned to the smallest detail,” I shrugged. “They’ve already coordinated with Xio and Evan for all the crowd control and monitoring shifts, and the murals are going up today.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware of the logistics stuff. I literally handle all the staffing for the humans on the Ark, and Antoine was also part of the crowd control conversations.”
“Then why did you ask?” I laughed, grabbing a cracker and carefully stacking cheese and other toppings on it. 
Before I could get it to my mouth, she snatched it and held it out of my reach. “Because I’m asking how you feel. You’re only attending as… well, an attendee. No monitoring, no calling the shots, no working from the floor.”
She surrendered my cracker, but I found myself setting it down, appetite gone. “I’m okay - “
“Lie.” There was suddenly a finger levelled between my eyes like a gun. Just as quickly, it was lowered, and my sister was tilting her head at me. “Come on. You know you can’t lie to me - I’ve known you longer than literally anyone on this ship except yourself.”
“Fine! It’s weird!” I admitted in frustration, standing to pace and shoving my hands through my hair. “My skin is crawling with anxiety, my hands are twitching to snatch up the files and nitpick everything to the smallest detail….”
“Except they locked you out.”
“Except they locked me out, yeah. But I’m pretty sure I could get Derek to let me in, which is why I’ve made a point to tell him not to, no matter how much I ask.” Dropping my hands, I sighed. “But if I ever want to leave this position, I have to let them do this.”
She shrugged and stole my cracker, this time chewing and swallowing before she responded. “You could have kept some involvement in it, you know.”
“Pfft, yeah right. I would have taken it over, and you know that.”
“Yep.”
“Then why even ask.” I dropped back down on the couch.
“‘Cause you needed to hear yourself say it,” she explained, nonchalant as ever, snagging an olive and watching me calmly.
I sat in silence, processing it.  I hated when she outsmarted me like that, especially when she was right. “Can I at least eat first?”
She laughed and let it go, telling me how well the murals for the Festival were coming.  I hadn’t even gotten to - allowed myself - to see the designs, and the more Tyche talked about them, the more I wanted to see them.  By the time I finished my share of our snack, I decided to check out the progress.
We finally made our way to the decks where the Festival would take place, and I thought Tyche was going to die laughing at the way I gaped. The alcoves where the vendors would stage looked the same on first glance, but a closer look revealed very subtle shapes added that would give them a more savage, wild look in the right lighting. Metal sconces had been added to hold what looked like torches, but with special light emitters to simulate open flame. As we walked further, swirls of color revealed themselves slowly, first in light, curling tendrils, but slowly sharpening and taking on a more angular shape, twisting together into phantasmal images that vanished as soon as you tried to focus on them.
“It’s like walking through a garden, or a rainforest, but when I turn my head, I’m in a city.”
“Right?” she laughed as we came around the final corner. 
At this point, we were surrounded by this mural.  Just up ahead, there was a messy head of black hair tied back with a green piece of cloth. Bare feet and arms show smears of paint, and overalls covered a tank top - that, or the cloth for the hair had formerly been sleeves, I couldn’t tell.  One hand propped up on hips while the other hung down, holding a very familiar paint pen.
“Christ on a triscuit, Vati, this is incredible,”  I gasped softly.
She turned and smirked at me over her shoulder. “Not yet, but it will be when I finish.”
“I mean, all of it. The sconces…”
“Those were Hannah and Ivan.” Parvati walked over and touched one with her finger tip, stroking it gently.
Tyche made an impressed noise. “I’m only a little shocked that he had enough time.”
“The materials are on loan from the engineering departments, and we wanted them to be rather rough in the finishing. It helped. Sophia, no matter how curious you are, please do not lick the walls.”
A giggle bubbled up through my chest. “The thought never crossed my mind. I was trying to put together all the flavor profiles here. It’s… a lot.”
“Forgive me if I focused more on color than how the walls would taste. I don’t generally cook, remember.”
I stared down a swirl of pomegranate, popcorn, and gochujang. The colors - blue, pink, and yellow, respectively - worked well together, but the thought of the flavors made my stomach churn. “I solemnly swear not to lick the walls,” I promised. “How much of this are you expecting to still be up by the third night?”
“We have a team that will specifically come touch up the mural in specific places the morning before the second day.”
Tyche turned toward me and away from her study of the art. “Also, you would be surprised how much paint is on the walls. It will take a lot for Else to eat it all, once they are allowed in the area.”
“Before you ask,” Parvati cut me off. “We just asked them nicely. Well, Sam and Derek did.  They’ve become quite the ersatz diplomats to Else.” 
“Anything left?”
“Hannah is putting the final touches on the curtains for the alcoves and the seating areas. She’ll have a team installing them tonight once I finish.”
It was clever, and explained why she was only touching up part of the mural halfway between now and the closing of the event. “You two have really put your stamp on it.”
“Feel better?” She held one hand up gesturing at the entire entire project, eyebrow arched  to show me that she hadn’t been fooled for a moment.
I rubbed my neck, and glanced at her from underneath my eyelashes. “Busted, I guess.”
“That would imply that anyone had believed your charade,” she smirked.
Taking a deep breath, I looked around us again. “I honestly do. I could never have done all this. Holding on would have…”
“Kept you in a position you frankly hate,” Parvati interrupted gracefully. “It’s the same reason Sebastian went back to the Undine. He’s passionate about it, and it shows in the quality of his work.” When I gaped in insult, she held up a hand. “Not everyone can succeed through fear of failing and a determination that things be done right if they must be done at all.”
“Everyone talking about me needing to retire, like I’m old or something,” I joked, throwing my hands into the air.  “Physically, I’m only thirty-five.”
Tyche nodded to concede my point. “What about the food? I haven’t seen a menu come out yet.”
The change in topic made Parvati’s face collapse. “What? It should have gone out yesterday…” She flicked open her datapad, which flickered from the overspray that covered it. Frantically scrolling, she groaned. “This was scheduled, why didn’t it send?”
“Did you check the date?” I asked calmly. “Specifically the year.”
“Three times, it’s scheduled for tomorrow,” she insisted. “Right here: May seventeenth, twenty-forty aw fuck….”
“At least you got the decade right,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t believe how many scheduled emails I’ve tried to automatically send out for ten or fifteen years ago.”
She nodded and seemed to get her bearings back. “So, protocol for this is… just send it right now and apologize for the late notification, don’t try to make excuses or explain?”
“Exactly. They won’t care why, they’ll just be excited the list is out.”
With a couple quick gestures, she sent the email and dismissed her datapad. “Okay, that was the last thing, then.” Turning back toward the wall she was working on before, she waved to us over her shoulder. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really do need to finish this up. Thank you for coming to see everything… it was oddly reassuring to have both of you give us your stamp of approval before the Festival instead of making us wait until after.”
“For the record, you two have always had my stamp of approval, or I wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep my nose out of it.” I knew she couldn’t see me, but I still smiled. “We’ll catch up with you after the Food Festival.  Remember: both of you need to plan on taking the day off afterwards. I’m serious.  Have your unofficial advisors drop in and chat about everything, that’s fine. But no actual work, and I won’t let either of you see the survey results until the second day after. So rest.”
“Got it, boss lady. Have a good night!”
Tyche and I turned and headed back to my quarters. We remained silent as we took in all the preparations that had been done, waving to the handful of vendors who were bringing their supplies in already. Once we were back in normal corridors, the silence broke almost immediately.
“I think they’ve got this,” Tyche suggested nonchalantly.
“Oh, I know they do.”
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poptod · 3 years
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The Breeding Kings, pt. 23
Description:
Notes: o man it breaks my heart seeing how yogi broke ahks. its all in the name o- WC: 3.8k
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Elamite soldiers.
Their footsteps pounded above the dirt roof, slowly breaking apart the ceiling piece by piece. The only view Ahkmen had was from a gutter arch no taller than his head, with bronze bars stopping even the smallest of you from crawling out of the jail, but allowing them to watch as obelisks were toppled and houses burnt to ashen piles.
He fell from the tips of his toes, the muscles in his feet and calves aching from the continued strain. Babylonian soldiers were now patrolling the city, bringing forth the hope that this would be solved; that this would not secede the power to the south, ending Kassite rule. Rimush hardly seemed bothered about this, checking his nails more frequently than the tiny window, but he wasn't the one Ahk was worried about. You were crouched in the corner, staring at the hay strewn about the jail cell's floor.
His sandals scratched against the dirt as he slid down beside you, his knees propped up to rest his elbows on. One hand played with his collar that now felt too tight around his neck.
"What do you want to do next?" He asked softly, leaning forward and closer to your height.
"I do not know."
"... I think.. we should get back to the estate, find our things, and leave for Elam. But if you don't care, we can also just go. I don't mind that either," he said.
"I need to get my potions," you said with the first sureness he'd seen on you in several hours. "And Sephys."
"Sephys?"
"My cat," you said, finally looking up.
"Oh, right. Sorry. I guess I haven't seen her in a while," he mumbled, shaking his head.
"She likes the estate cellar," you explained. "It is too much time to get there."
Your eyes grew sick, shoulders hunching as your expression paled.
"No, no, we'll get there," he said in a rush, reaching for you and guiding you to meet his eye. "We've made it this far. We'll find a way to continue."
You strugged to swallow, but when you did, you finally looked up to him with red eyes, their color stark from your dark skin.
"I did think we were safe," you whispered.
"Safety is relative, my dear," he said, "and these are very trying times."
"I can not leave my potions," you said, shutting your eyes tight. "I have had them for too long to leave."
"I agree. All of our finances are there, as well," he said with a nod.
Distant shouts and orders filled every silence you let pass. More footsteps. Heavy wheels over cobblestone streets. You flinched when a torch passed too close to the window, bringing the three of you closer to light and to heat––ingredients that could easily lead to your discovery.
"You're going back into the city for your things?" Rimush scoffed through a dry throat, his head leant against the wall behind him.
"/What?" Ahk asked, shooting the prince a dirty scowl.
"Nothing, it's just an incredibly stupid decision," he said dismissively.
"We don't exactly have a choice," Ahk said. "Our belongings are all we have."
"No shit," Rimush said, crossing his arms, "but I would think your /lives would be a more important possession."
"Not more than my potions," you said as you raised yourself to look at the Kassite Prince.
"Potions?" He repeated, raising his brow in faux curiosity.
You offered him no more response than a glare.
"Listen, if you want to get wherever you need without being seen, I know a way. As long as you don't mind getting dirty," Rimush said.
"Why should we trust you?" asked Ahkmen, turning and rising to his feet.
"I didn't lead you astray in the tower, did I?" He asked with a flashy smile, looking straight up at Ahk who now loomed over him.
Ahk narrowed his eyes.
"Show us the way."
Rimush stumbled to his feet when Ahk kicked his side, rousing him from the cell floor. The metal lock and bars clattered against eachother in the underground hallway as Rimush fiddled with them, eventually undoing the lock and tossing it aside, and pushing open the cell door. The jail had been a good hiding spot for a little while. Most of the inmates weren't too happy with your presence though, constantly begging to be released or making threats. Ahkmen hurried you through the hall.
Each of you looked over your shoulders with nearly every step you took, jumping at the approaching rattlings of battalions nearing the jail. Someone had yet to enter, but that didn't ease your mind, as the soldiers spared no woman nor child. Ahkmen's own worry had increased tenfold at your suggestion the soldiers were Elamite, though he made sure not to let it show. While at most times he tried to steer from practicing prejudice in accordance with countries, he could not deny what the scripts he studied wrote of, and he could not forget the violence they wrought upon an innocent, weary peoples a thousand years ago.
Your path continued down into an alleyway, a direction neither you or Ahk trusted when it came to Rimush's word. Still, you followed after him, checking incessantly to make sure no one was following you in turn.
"Here," Rimush whispered, and the both of you turned at the same time to see him lifting the hatch of a sewer pipe.
Both of you stopped dead.
"Are you fucking joking?" Ahk asked with a dead expression.
The perimeter of Babylonian sewers was about the size of a very large barrel, meaning Ahk could just barely squeeze in to essentially crawl through it. Directly in the muck. Even you, the smallest of the three of you, would suffer poorly.
"You want to risk going in the streets?" Rimush asked, perking a single brow. "Just.. out in the open?"
"No! Aren't there, I don't know, back alleyways? Ways to move on the rooves? I don't know, you're the one that lives here," Ahk hissed as he gestured wildly.
"Gods, you are /such a princess," he said with a dramatic roll of the eyes, pulling a small, leather satchel out of his coat pocket.
"What's that?" Ahk asked, immediately sending the bag a suspicious look.
You came up behind him and grasped his arm. He instinctively pushed you behind him, protecting you from any so-called 'danger' Rimush might threaten.
"Calm down, love-birds," he grumbled, adding, "I can't believe I'm helping you," under his breath.
Out from his pocket he procured a tiny, glass vial with an equally tiny stopper, one he popped out and replaced with his finger covering the mouth of the vial. He dunked the bottle's crystallized contents onto his finger, turning it back around before removing the finger and holding it out to Ahkmen.
Ahkmen gave him another odd look with a knotted brow, backing away as Rimush brought his finger right up to his mouth.
"Lick it!!" Rimush finally hissed, shoving his finger into Ahk's mouth.
He let out a sound of protest, instantly going to shove the Prince away before he suddenly found himself surrounded by nothing. Opening his eyes, he realized he was much, much shorter than before, and that the ground below him was shaking, and... warm?
"What the –"
"Ohh, Aganu!" You cried out with a restrained squeal of delight, a wide grin spreading across your face.
You were standing above him, at which point he finally identified his surroundings. They were the same as before, but this time he was much, much smaller, fitting easily into the palm of your hand. He looked down at himself frantically, checking to make sure everything on his persons was still with him.
"It's a bit of fairy dust," Rimush said, smiling cockily. "Got it gambling with the demon, Kusarikku. Fancy, isn't it?"
"That is... wow," you said in bated breath. "I could use that in my potions."
"Now is really not the time, Yogasundari!" Ahkmen seethed on your hand, kicking his heel against your palm.
"Be quiet, baby," you said, pinching the back of his shirt and setting him below the sewer pipe hatch.
"Here," he could hear Rimush say, and his mood only worsened as he imagined you sucking on the Prince's finger.
In the very least, he didn't have to see it happen, and he was clutching you to him by the time Rimush made it in. You might not have been his, but you certainly weren't Rimush's. The Kassite Prince reached up as he licked the crystals off his finger, closing the hatch above before jumping off, and landing down in the sewer in the same size as you and Ahk.
Loud, clashing noises were instantly muted, replaced by a sickly scent that very nearly knocked Ahkmen off his feet. His hand whizzed up to cover his mouth and nose.
"Oh dear Gods," he said, retching without anything coming up.
"Calm down, you'll get used to it," Rimush said flatly. He looked left and right before he said, "this way."
You and Ahk jogged after him as he began to walk, sending each other glances once you stood on either side of the Prince.
"You worked for Ukani, right?" He asked, earning a silent nod from both of you.
"I didn't know you practiced magic," Ahk said, still side-eyeing Rimush suspiciously.
"I don't, not really," Rimush said with a small shake of the head. "I... dabble in trickery."
"And that just happened to lead you to a mythical beast?"
"I am not the controller of my own destiny!" He said, raising his hands defensively.
"Is it salt?" you piped up.
"No," Rimush curtly said before turning back to Ahk. "Just because I'm more interesting than you doesn't mean you should get all angry about it."
"I didn't – I just think there's a few holes in your story," Ahk said in a huff, crossing his arms.
"I don't have to tell you everything about my life."
"Is it crystals?" You asked.
Rimush didn't bother to answer you this time.
"Besides, you should just be grateful you had me and this along," he said, patting his coat pocket where he'd hidden his bottles.
Your frown didn't go unnoticed by Ahk, who adopted a similar glare and instantly took your side.
"Well, was it crystals?" He asked as well, watching with glee as Rimush rolled his eyes, sighing exhasperatedly.
"Is it from a – a spice?" You asked.
"Is it salt?" Ahk added in full knowledge you'd already asked.
"I don't have to answer to you two!" Rimush finally shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "You are /insufferable together. I like you quite a lot more when we're alone, Aganu."
"Stop trying to get into my skirt," he said, furrowing his brows.
"I think I deserve an attempt or two after saving you," he replied with a sharp grin.
Ahk pursed his lips, pressing them so tight together they turned pale. Past Rimush, you shot Ahk a look that sat somewhere between 'really?' and 'I told you'.
The smaller your legs, the smaller your footsteps, and it must've taken you at least an hour to get halfway to home. Around that time you were all growing sore and sick from the scents filling the pipe, and decided to check where you were within the city.
Rimush and Ahk worked together to lift the hatch and block it with a rock (a pebble, really), peeking out before any of you decided to exit.
"What do you see?" You asked, standing on the little platform you all stood atop, and still too short to see over the pipe entrance's edge.
"Absolutely no idea. Houses?" Ahk said in a strained voice, feeling more and more helpless.
Was this what mice felt like?
Rimush sniffed the air before he said, "I think we're near the river."
"How can you tell?" Ahk asked, screwing his expression into a frown.
"The river smells like water, and also, there's a bakery near the river that I'm pretty sure is just up this street," he explained, pointing out to the left side of the road. "Ukani's home is still a ways to go, but we're headed in the right direction."
The three of you jumped down from the platform, leaving the pebble lodged in the open latch. That sliver of sunlight lit the way for another minute more before disappearing entirely from your view.
"What do you think your father's going to do about all this?" Ahkmen asked when he could stand the silence and stench no longer.
"Like I give a shit," Rimush scoffed. "I'm not returning to that shithole after this. Quite done with the politics of this damned city."
Ahkmen nodded with a half shrug. He'd felt similarly on more than once occassion.
"Then where will you go?"
"Hmm," the Kassite Prince tapped his chin, "where are /you going?"
"I already told you. The Indus."
"Maybe I'll go there," he said with a grin, staring up at the roof of the pipe.
"No!" You and Ahk exclaimed in unison.
A silence followed the single, echoing word, causing you and Ahk to both retreat back into yourselves, almost embarrassed at the volume of your synchronicity.
"You're /really going to try and dictate what a Prince does?" Rimush asked.
Ahk sighed, his shoulders sagging as he begrudgingly replied, "/no. But you're certainly not coming with us."
From within the (relatively) thick walls of the sewer pipe, it was hard to hear anything except for what could be heard from the holes in baths and toilets, most of which was undone by three pairs of feet making echoes with each footfall. The chaos returned without hesitation the moment the three of you were crawling out, pressing your bodies tight to the ground to slide out under the tiny sliver in the open hatch.
Ahkmen looked out to the carnage wrought by both parties, to the civilians caught between, and the children tossed into the gutter with the bodies of their mothers. He turned quickly away, offering you his hand and pulling you up onto solid ground. While you brushed your clothes of any dirt and dust, Ahk held you beneath his arm, blocking away the sight of blood flowing steadily through a once-familiar plaza.
"There's a way to become big again, right?" Ahk asked, still keeping his voice down despite no one alive being around.
"Oh, certainly. I didn't think you'd want to become big again till you got your bags, though."
Ahk narrowed his eyes.
"Why?" He asked.
"Well... them, for one," Rimush said, pointing past Ahk.
He turned, flinching when a small battalion of soldiers passed them by, their spears, armor, and shields clanking as they ran.
"Would've been a little dead, had I not been here," he said with a wink in Ahk's direction.
Ahk grimaced.
Despite having changed sizes, you and Ahk slowly remembered the way back to the estate from the small town center, fighting through the shock of the day to remember long-taken paths. Roadways you crossed made each of you wary––even Rimush––and you often took several minutes to ensure no one would be coming your way anytime soon. Cats and mice counted for this as well. Cats were larger than elephants, and mice were about the size of a hippopotamus. Dealing with either wouldn't be beneficial to your end goal.
You were already risking so much by agreeing to go into Elamite territory while they were so obviously engrossed in this aggression. Ahkmen wasn't as willing to risk losing both you and himself as you seemed to be, and thus kept you on an even keel until you finally found the back gates of Ukani's estate.
The wooden doors remained locked despite the bodies felled before it, and the three of you turned to the easiest solution––sneaking in through the crack beneath the door. Pebbles and grains of sand grated against your bare arms as you slid against the ground, leaving your skin scratched and dry when you emerged. You huffed, brushing yourself off before you helped Ahkmen up, allowing him to hold your hand for only a moment until you let go.
He checked around the whole of the garden, ensuring you were the only ones there before you headed off towards the servant's quarters. Rimush joined you soon after, jogging after you with a dissatisfied look on his face.
"Couldn't wait for me, could you?" He asked, raising a single brow.
"Could've," said Ahkmen, "didn't want to."
Once inside the servant's quarters, you easily found your bags, though they appeared now to be mountains to you.
"Rimush," Ahk called over his shoulder, setting a hand on the burlap cloth of his bag.
The Prince, though scowling, answered Ahkmen's beckoning and shuffled to procure the antidote from one of his many pockets. During that time Ahk turned back to you, relieved to see you smiling no matter how small it was.
"We'll be alright," he said softly, unsure if he was saying it for you or himself. "Rimush?"
Ahk cast a look over his shoulder as Rimush continued to pat himself down for any sign of the antidote. The longer he took, the more severe Ahk's expression became, and a worry washed over him.
"You have the antidote, right?" Ahk asked.
You leased a wide yawn, stretching your hands to the sky as Rimush reluctantly stepped closer.
"I... well, I know where the antidote is, if it isn't on me," he said, shrugging. "It's just... a little far."
"Let me guess," Ahk said as he crossed his arms. "It's in the palace."
Rimush had little to offer except an apologetic, ginger smile. Fortunately, this was not the first time Rimush enraged Ahkmen, so Ahk dealt with the annoyance with a thick roll of the eyes and a long sigh.
"Wait, what is going?" You asked, your wide eyes shooting between the two boys.
"We need to go to the palace home of the King," Ahk grumbled, massaging the bridge of his nose. "How far is it?"
"I don't know for sure, but I do know it's across the river."
A scream built up in the back of Ahk's mouth, very nearly making it past his lips. Instead he breathed deeply, clenched his fists and jaw, and let it go. He stayed silent for another full minute, keeping his eyes shut tight.
"I can't make it there, I've been on my feet for the past – I don't know, twelve hours?" Ahk said as he shook his head, his voice cracking in the middle of his words. "I need to get sleep first."
"Wow, I didn't think you'd be such a /baby," Rimush said, raising an unimpressed brow as he crossed his arms.
"Oh I'm /sorry for having human needs! You don't know what it's like to be on your feet all day. Have you ever even worked a day in your life?"
Rimush just laughed, throwing his head back as he stepped closer to Ahkmen.
"Only for you, my dearest," the Prince said with a purring growl, artfully grabbing Ahk's chin to bring him down to his height. After staring into his steely eyes for another moment, Rimush pushed him away by his chest, saying, "get your beauty sleep, Aganu."
He turned and headed towards the door, fixing his clothing.
"I'll be back in by sunset!" He called before disappearing around the doorway.
Ahk watched with a scowl as he left, his gaze never leaving the Prince until he was assured he wouldn't be returning. At that point he returned to you, shaking off the memory of Rimush's hands, and the discomfort he very well may have given you many hours ago.
He took your hands, staring down at your smaller, darker fingers set atop his palms. A long, subdued sigh left him.
"You need sleep, yes?" You asked as you attempted to lift his gaze to meet yours.
But he wouldn't look directly at you.
"Yeah," he said, nodding despite the lump in his throat.
"Come," you said, returning his hold on your hands, and pulling him towards your bags.
Gripping one of the pocket flaps, you hoisted yourself up, digging your feet into the little grooves created by your various belongings scattered in the burlap bag. Ahk, though unaware of your current thought process, followed you, and soon stood over the top entrance of your bag.
Your potions looked an awful lot more intimidating in this size. Given the right circumstances, he could drown in them.
With a shove, he was tumbling over the backpack's side, a yelp leaving him as he collided with a pile of soft fabric. You followed quickly after, your outline turning to a silhouette as the torchlight of the servant's quarters faded away. When you made contact with the blankets in your bag, you nearly drowned in them, submerged completely until Ahk pulled you out.
He laughed as you shook your head clear, your curly hair frizzing out.
"Alone at last," he sung, and you chuckled, leaning back till your head hit the blankets.
"Agh," you said with a long sigh, "I am tired of these cities."
"I'm not fond of them either, as of late," Ahk grumbled, tiredly rubbing his face. "I hope Harappa isn't as bad as any of this."
"I think... it will not be this, but a.. other thing, that makes it a little bit worse," you said after much thought.
"Oh wow, thanks. That's very assuring," Ahk said, earning a loud laugh from you.
"Do not worry, /en nanpar," you said as you sat up, leaning over to pinch his cheek. "I will keep you safe."
He chuckled, turned away, and hid his quickly-growing tears in the plush fabric. You stared at him for a moment, your brow knotted neatly till you slowly looked away and lied down. The deep, sinking feeling in his chest had long settled in, the black edges only now bubbling over in the form of tears that burnt his eyes and cheeks like acid. This was exhaustion in its purest form; exhausted with the world, exhausted with himself, and exhausted by you. /Sickened by you and the thought of what he did, by the regret that washed into the hole left by your silence in the face of his confession.
There was no getting around the fact that this was his fault.
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