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#and then as the day went on i became rejuvenated
cinnabeat · 2 years
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anyways pls for the love of god if youre gonna stay awake for nearly 24 hours and then only take an hour nap before having to brave the world again pls eat something before leaving your house
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tzuyubb · 3 months
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Hot Spring Group Pleasure
Pairing: TWICE Tzuyu x CLC Elkie x Male reader
Word Count: 1877 words
Tags: Gangbang, interracial, handjob, blowjob, deep penetration, rough sex, all holes filled, creampie, ahegao, mind break
A/N: Now I understand why writers don’t like to write gangbang smuts 😂 This was pretty difficult to write but hopefully it came out alright.
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Tzuyu and Elkie had always been an interesting duo. Elkie loved to push the innocent and reserved Tzuyu’s boundaries, urging her to try new things, especially when it came to her sexuality. So when she heard about this special secluded hot spring in Japan, she knew she had to bring Tzuyu to check it out.
The hot spring was deep in the mountains, with the hike to it being long and arduous. Tzuyu complained ‘Elkie, how much further do we have to go?’. ‘We are almost there. It will all be worth it, trust me.’ Elkie replied playfully.
After an hour-long hike, they finally arrived at the hot spring. At the entrance, Tzuyu noticed a sign, which read “Mixed-gender hot spring. 8-person maximum occupancy. Whole day booking only.” Worried, Tzuyu asked, “It says that it is mixed-gender, do you know if anyone else booked for today?” Elkie winked and replied, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we are alone and, if anyone joins us, I’m sure they won’t be weird or creepy.”
As the pair went through the entrance, they couldn't help but let out a gasp of amazement. The water was crystal clear and steaming hot, and the surroundings were peaceful and serene. They wasted no time in changing into their swimsuits. Tzuyu wore a cute pink one-piece that accentuated her curves, while Elkie wore a matching blue one-piece that complimented her toned figure.
After laying down their towels, Elkie and Tzuyu stepped into the warm water. It enveloped their bodies, the heat soothing their muscles after the torturous hike. They rested against the edge of the hot spring, closing their eyes and letting out a contented sigh of satisfaction. All their built-up tension started to melt away in the rejuvenating waters. It was pure bliss.
However, the peace and relaxation were short-lived, as they heard a rowdy group of men approaching. They were laughing and talking loudly, clearly without a care in the world.
Opening their eyes, they saw six tall, muscular men making their way toward the edge of the hot spring. Wearing tight swim trunks, their dark skin and chiseled bodies were on full display. They were all well-built and undeniably handsome, but what caught the attention of Elkie and Tzuyu were their massive bulges. Tzuyu was taken aback and her eyes widened, she had always heard that black men were well-endowed, and their bulges seemed to confirm that.
Before they could even think about moving away, the six men were already in the water. The group approached the pair with mischievous grins. Tzuyu tried to maintain her composure, but her body betrayed her. She felt a rush of desire, her heart pounding with excitement. The men surrounded them, their eyes roaming over the girl’s bodies.
One of the men, with a deep, smooth voice and a playful glint in his eyes, spoke up ‘Well, well, what do we have here? Two beautiful girls all by themselves in the hot spring.’ With that comment, Tzuyu felt her cheeks flush. Elkie replied flirtatiously ‘You guys aren’t too bad yourselves.’ From that moment, Tzuyu knew that Elkie had it all planned out from the start.
The six men began to engage them in conversation, asking the girls about themselves and making them feel at ease. The girls discovered that they were a group of wealthy American businessmen, visiting Japan for the first time. They were friendly and charming, the girls being unable to resist their infectious laughter and flirty banter.
As the conversation became more heated and sexual, without warning, one of the men leaned in and pressed his lips to Tzuyu’s. Tzuyu was caught off guard, but she didn't resist. She gently pressed her body against his, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands began to roam all over her body, touching and caressing her curves. She couldn’t believe what was happening, but she was too turned on to even consider protesting.
Before she knew it, two of the other men had joined in, their hands and lips exploring every inch of her body. She surrendered herself to their touch, becoming more and more aroused with each passing moment. The heat from the water mixed with the heat of their bodies was intoxicating and she found herself getting lost in pleasure. As she looked over to Elkie, she saw the remaining three men had done the same to her. She felt aroused seeing her best friend's body being kissed, touched, and ravished.
Tzuyu felt their hands wandering lower and lower until they reached her core. Using their large and thick fingers, they playfully teased her clit and pussy over her swimsuit. She let out a seductive moan, feeling a hot wetness growing inside her as she imagined their fingers fucking her pussy. Suddenly, one of the men reached behind her and untied her swimsuit. Tzuyu gasped as it was quickly discarded, leaving her curvaceous body completely exposed and vulnerable to their touch and gaze. The men's eyes immediately went wide as they took in her beauty. She felt joy run through her body, as she noticed the lust in their eyes.
In contrast, Elkie had taken on more of a dominant role. She passionately kissed one of the men, exploring his mouth with her tongue. At the same moment, her hands moved over the bulges of the other two men, gently stroking their hardening cocks over their trunks. She knew just how to tease them, making them hungry for more. Then, after seeing Tzuyu’s exposed body, two of the men ripped apart Elkie’s swimsuit, so that she could share her best friend’s bare state. Seeing Elkie’s exposed toned body made their bulges even bigger.
‘Well boys, it seems unfair that they should be the only ones without clothes.’ one of the men exclaimed. They all laughed in unison, understanding what they were to do.
The six large dark men slowly left the embrace of Tzuyu and Elkie. They withdrew from the water and proceeded to stand next to each other in a line. One by one, they stripped off their swim trunks, revealing six big black cocks.
Tzuyu was awestruck, she had never seen cock’s that large and girthy before. They were definitely the most well-endowed men she had ever seen. She couldn’t help but gasp at their size, feeling intimidated but also incredibly turned on. Upon seeing her reaction, Elkie smirked and asked ‘Are these the first black cock’s you’ve seen?’. Tzuyu replied ‘I mean I've heard stories and seen them in videos before, but never in person. I didn’t realize a cock could be that huge.’
One of the men roared ‘Come and take a closer look then!’
Elkie happily accepted the offer, seductively shaking her hips while exiting the water and walking over. In front of three of the men, she then dropped down onto her knees and gestured Tzuyu to join her. Obediently, Tzuyu shyly got out and walked over, until she was in front of the other three men.
Without warning, Elkie grabbed Tzuyu’s wrist and pulled her down onto her knees. Tzuyu was now face to face with their stiff members. She felt a pulsating between her legs and her nipples became erect. The thought of being with multiple well-endowed men at once excited her.
‘Go on touch it, it won’t hurt you’ one of the men said jokingly.
Using one hand, Tzuyu sheepishly grabbed the shaft of one of the men. Her hand barely fit around it, she was stunned. Holding it up against her forearm, she said ‘Oh! My! God! It’s the size of my forearm’.
Elkie laughed ‘Aww don’t worry, let me show you how to handle these big black cock’s’. She opened her mouth and placed her full lips around the tip of one of the cock’s. At the same time, in each hand, she then held the shaft of two others. She was now ready.
She began bobbing her head back and forth, taking the long shaft deep into her mouth. The black cock stretched her mouth wide open. Her hands then started to jack off the two other cock’s she was holding.
Tzuyu couldn’t hold back anymore, looking at her best friend taking 3 cock’s stirred her curiosity and arousal. She surrendered to her primal desires and held the shaft with both hands, slowly stroking it. As she stroked it, she could feel it growing even harder, the tip leaking precum due to her tight handjob. With her eyes fixated on the massive phallus in front of her, she stuck her tongue out and licked the sweet precum off the tip.
The remaining two men joined in. They grabbed Tzuyu’s hands and placed them on their cock’s. Learning from Elkie, she began stroking them off while giving the other a blowjob.
The sounds of sucking and squelching filled the room. The six men could also be heard moaning and grunting, as their large cock’s were pleasured by two gorgeous women.
But the men didn't stop there; they wanted more. So the four men getting a handjob released the grasp of Elkie and Tzuyu. Two of the men laid down below the two girls with their cock’s standing at attention, while the other two kneeled down behind them. Lifting both girls, they repositioned them so their holes lined up with each of their cock’s. With the tip of their cock’s, the men teased and explored the entrances of Tzuyu and Elkie’s holes, the leaking juices lubricating them.
Then, in one synchronized motion, Tzuyu and Elkie’s pussy and ass were slowly impaled. The girls let out a satisfied scream and their heads spun with pleasure. They could feel the massive dicks stretching them in ways they never imagined possible. Their holes were completely filled in a way neither had ever experienced before. Tzuyu, especially, couldn't believe how good it felt to have three men stuffing their cock’s in her at once.
‘Come on boys! Let’s break these sluts!’ one of the men shouted. Both girls were then relentlessly and roughly fucked in their mouths, pussy’s and asses. Their bodies writhed, overwhelmed by the sensation of all their holes being thrust into at once. They could feel themselves losing control, their euphoric moans muffled as their bodies were used for the men’s pleasure. Hearing their muffled moans only increased the gratification and desire of the hungry men.
After hours of persistent fucking, each of the men had reached their climax. They departed the hotspring and left Tzuyu and Elkie exhausted and strewn on the ground trembling with ecstasy. Each of the girls had a gaping wide pussy and ass, which leaked with cum. Their eyes were rolled back, mouths opened and filled with the men’s seed. They were in heaven, their minds and bodies broken.
As Tzuyu lay there slowly recovering, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. She smiled, thinking ‘I can’t believe I was just gangbanged by three black men with massive dicks’. She was eternally grateful for the experience Elkie had given her, as it was one of the hottest and most memorable moments of her life. Tzuyu was no longer the innocent girl she once was, but a whore who craved and worshiped big black cock.
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stormkobra-5 · 2 years
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Phases
Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader
Fic Type: Drabble
Beta’d by the lovely @marc-spectorr 😌
Summary: Marc knew that being Khonshu’s Avatar came with side effects. He just was never quite aware of how, exactly, the phases of the moon affected him. Not until you.
A/N: So. The gif. Pretend he’s not getting impaled. Or injured at all. Because honestly that’s the position I picture him being in when he’s pinning the reader against him. 🤡 (Also, this is kind of a Marc version of Feral Flight…)[Yes, I ignored my ask box to finish this :/]
Rating/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI, primal play, breeding kink, unprotected PiV, exhibitionism (Steven and Jake watch and comment), feral!Marc Spector, marathon sex, slight dub/non-con, fingering, softdom!Marc, a/b/o vibes, mating kink (??? This is a version of Feral Flight, after all), Marc is confuzzled about what’s happening to him but gives in, lots of mentions of getting the reader pregnant, sex with intention of getting reader pregnant, the phases of the moon affect the Moon Boys, foul/vulgar language, praise kink, rough (?) sex, lots of mentions of Khonshu but like??? He’s not in it???, jealous Marc (briefly), biting, marking, fluff, somehow this went from the kinkiest shit I’ve ever written to extreme yearning fluff idk
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Dating the boys had surely been an experience you’d never forget. Steven, Marc, Jake, your boyfriends whom you loved deeply; and they loved you tenfold each. It was a strange feeling, being in a relationship with all three alters— but strange in a good way. You took every part of them and accepted it, loving them for who they were wholly and completely.
Although… you didn’t expect there to be a part of them that even they weren’t aware of…
Marc knew that the phases of the moon affected the powers that Khonshu gave them. The fuller it was, the more powerful they were. On the New Moon, they all slept so deeply that not even Khonshu himself could wake them. It was apparently some kind of rejuvenating period, which made sense (and also prompted a three-and-half explanation from Steven).
But on the Full Moon?
Their powers were amplified tenfold.
When wearing the suit, their super-strength, flight, speed, healing abilities, they seemed invincible and godlike. It was a feeling that went straight to their heads. For nearly a week around the day of the full moon, they became arrogant. Cocky. Marc would be the first to admit that they became fucking assholes, even Steven. Not to mention, the extra metabolism (? So Steven said. Marc wasn’t too sure.) forced them to eat. And eat. And eat. They bulked up. Whereas throughout the rest of the month they were fit and lean, during the week of the full moon their bodies were sleek, contoured muscle. They would beat the shit out of their enemies (even Steven), or pick fights. They were quick to respond with aggression, and he even felt his neighbors weren’t safe.
Whenever he was in the flat around that time, he would snap and huff at the people he’d ride with in the elevator. They were too close, it was too stuffy, he wanted to chase everyone out of the fucking building and patrol it just to keep everyone out. He felt that way so violently that he usually went out to protect his innocent neighbors before he lost all sense of self. Jake liked to joke that it was just a “moon period,” and it would pass.
Then you came along, and it got worse.
And different.
He seemed to eat more. He was more aggressive toward his neighbors. Every sound in the hall made him want to bust down the door and attack whoever it was because they were too close to you. Everyone was too close to you. You needed a whole building to yourself and Marc would patrol it to keep you safe. If you wanted to go out, he’d just have to go with you, Khonshu be damned.
But with you other things happened that made him confused.
He'd catch himself piling your blankets around him while you were at work just to envelop him in your scent— the smell of your shampoo, though he swore it was more than that. He swore he had heightened senses, because he could almost smell you on an animalistic level. When you got home, he was all over you, worshiping you like you were a princess. He’d have a hot bath already running for you, he’d make you food, ensure you drank water, help you with your shoes and jacket; he catered to you on a standard day, especially Steven, but this was different. He’d be practically unable to let go of you, literally keeping his arms around you and whining high-pitched in the back of his throat like a fucking dog if you had to move. He’d almost aggressively cuddle you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting your smell overwhelm him, comfort him.
Of course he’d explained it to you before the time had hit, but in his brief moments of clarity, he’d whisper helplessly with tears in his eyes, “I-I don’t know what’s happening to me…”
You’d only kiss his forehead. Ever patient. Ever loving. He wondered what he did to deserve you. “It’s okay, Marc. We’ll get through it together, I promise.” Of course, Khonshu never explained anything to him.
You were so patient.
Even when he was fucking you senseless.
Usually you both had a reasonable lust for each other, but during the full moon, his sex drive was through the roof. He had to take you. He had to feel you. He was gentle, but also relentless— he wasn’t sure where he suddenly got the stamina for twelve fucking rounds after dinner, but his intention was never to hurt you. He just wanted you. If you pushed him away, too tired for more, Marc would immediately launch into aftercare. A warm bath, blankets straight from the dryer, and him laying protectively around you.
Although there was one night he caught himself lapping slowly at your throat. The fuck???
Jake and Steven were just as bad as he was. In fact, Steven was probably worse. His pent-up years of anger made him more dangerous to strangers and more rough with you, so he kept away from the front.
Marc was happy when on the next full moon, Khonshu had work for him; but it ended up not taking as long as he’d planned. By only eight o’clock he was done with the mission, and he ran thirty times full speed around the block your workplace was in just to let off some steam. He made sure, though, that when you got off, he was there to watch over you from a nearby rooftop.
The wind changed, and he swore— he fucking swore he caught a whiff of your goddamn scent.
No, he really was. Was that a new power? Heightened senses? His mask melted away so that he could better smell it— he shouldn’t know you’re ovulating. He shouldn’t. Were you this morning? No, he’d smelled it coming. He’d been all over you before you’d left for work. But, oh, you smell so fucking good.
Ovulating. The word rings around in his head for a minute. His alters are somewhere in the headspace, keeping away from the front at all costs. He tries to swallow hard, but his throat and mouth are so damn dry that he just can’t. All he can think about is you. You you you. And the fact that you’re ovulating.
He hears a high noise nearby and isn’t sure what it is until he realizes that it’s him. He’s whining as he watches you bid goodbye to a coworker who was chatting with you, wanting nothing more than to pin you down right. There.
Marc shifted his weight, his suit suddenly far too tight in the crotch. The wind shifts, and so does his mood.
There’s another scent on you.
The scent of a male.
He can almost see the handprint on your shoulder from where one of your coworkers passed you earlier in the day. The scent is faint, stale, but it’s there, and it makes him furious. He’s possessive over you, and that scares him. He wants to lick and rub his face all over that spot while fucking you hard just to cover you wholly in his scent again.
He’s there, too; he can smell himself on you. The smell of citrus and metal and wood, all fucking over you. You’re his. Except for that. Spot. How dare someone touch his mate while she’s ovulating? If he wasn’t so distracted by you, he’d have tracked the scent and broken both the coworker’s hands for it.
Marc’s head grew foggy. His vision narrowed until you were all he could see. All of his senses were trained on you. He thought he might have whined again, realizing he was palming himself a little too roughly when Jake said in the back of his head, “...Ow,” followed by Steven: “Oi, you tryin’ to castrate us, mate?”
Mate. Marc wasn’t sure where his mind went or what kind of trance he was in. I’ve gotta get down there— get to her— have to— have to mate with her— Marc stood, following you from the rooftop and starting to parkour down. I have to mate with her. Right now, while she’s ready for me.
“Oh shit,” Jake muttered, “Easy, hombré; you hurt her, I won’t hesitate in castrating us. You need fucking fixed, man.”
“Not gonna hurt her,” Marc mumbled as he prepared himself for the drop to the sidewalk below, “Not gonna hurt her…”
Steven, meanwhile, had come too close to the front. He hovered, feral, just behind the edge of Marc’s conscious thought, urging him on silently. Waiting for Marc to pounce.
Marc landed in a crouch before you, making you yelp in momentary terror. The smell was like burning plastic, and he didn’t like it. “No, baby, it’s me—“
Your scent returned to normal as you let out a whooshing breath of relief, a broad but wary smile on your face. “Marc,” The way you said his name caused a shiver to run up his spine. You started to ask him something— whether he was still on a mission, how it went, or something like that, he wasn’t sure— all he knew was that his body was moving before his mind, rushing forward to crush your lips together in a bruising kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking advantage of your slack jaw, an arm slipping around you from behind to pull you flush against him. The sensation of your taste and your body against him felt overwhelming. His suit was suddenly scratchy, his skin too hot and feverish, his breath and heartbeat too quick. If he could have seen how black his eyes were, he might have had the sense to be concerned.
His hungry kisses trailed down your neck, where he pulled your shirt down your shoulder to expose the skin. Your gasp at the contact of the chilly night air went straight to his core, and he growled. The scent of the other male was making him pissed, and he found himself licking at the spot before biting down.
Hard.
So hard he drew blood, and you cried out, voice echoing in the empty street.
He didn’t pull back, keeping you against him and rolling his hips into you to try and ease the pressure in his groin with another whine. “Marc—“
“Run,” He hissed in your ear.
The demand took you by surprise. “Huh?”
“I want you to run from me,” He clarified softly, “Run. As fast and as far as you can. Until I catch you. Please?”
“W-what happens if you catch me?” You managed, a little shaken and also understanding what was happening to your boys.
“I get to fuck you,” Marc nipped at your jawline, trying to entice you. If there was one thing he wasn’t going to do, it was force himself on you. He’d catch a plane to Singapore just to keep himself away from you if you said no. He was still steadily rocking into you, lapping at your wounded shoulder as he tried to cover the scent of the other male, take it away, get rid of it…
“M-Marc,” You breathed; he could see in your eyes that you were greatly concerned. But he could also smell your arousal, and it was just making his whole situation worse. “We’re out in public. Can you wait till we get back to the flat?”
He was able to have a moment of clarity (? If you could call it that). Mainly because Steven was acting like a caged tiger, slamming up against the front violently like an animal behind bars. Marc wouldn’t let him out; couldn’t let him out. Steven could get rough and hurt you without even meaning to, and then he’d feel guilty and horrible when he came back to himself. Marc knew that he was always gentle, that he could stop himself, but... “Don’t you fucking dare take her here, Marc. Getting her scent everywhere in a place so far from home. Getting her everywhere— you get her home, Marc. Get her home, or I will. She needs to be safe.”
Steven was his voice of reason, as always. He wholly agreed with his alter, biting softly at your jawline and nuzzling into your neck. There. He found it. The spot right behind your ears that had your knees buckling, a flood of arousal heading straight to your core. You were probably dripping for him already.
“Bloody hell,” Steven groaned when he saw how you nearly went limp, if not for Marc catching you and holding you against him.
Marc scooped you up in his arms and held you close, taking you back to the flat; it wasn’t a particularly long walk, but it felt like days. Marc’s suit was tight, way too tight and he could barely breathe. By the time the building was in sight, he was sweating buckets and could barely walk, almost in pain. He set you down carefully, much to your confusion. “Can you run? Please? I want to chase you.”
“Why?” You weren’t mocking, or teasing; you were genuinely asking why he wanted to chase you. He himself wasn’t sure— all he knew was that he wanted to have the thrill of chasing you before mating with you. Before…
Before he breeds you.
The thought of potentially impregnating you makes him moan into your neck, and he turns you around, giving you a gentle nudge to the building. “Go. Go, please.”
Reluctantly, you did. Marc started counting to thirty, watching your shrinking form pick up speed, as his alters spoke up.
1…2…3…
Steven was too close, heated and pissed. “Get that bloody male’s scent off her, Marc. I don’t care if you have to fucking cum on her shoulders. Get. It. Off.”
“Marc, listen to me, hombré,” Jake said, farther back, still horny but sensible. He wasn’t letting himself get near to the front, but he kept trying to pull Steven back, which resulted violently; not entirely in control of himself, Steven attacked, fending Jake off while keeping his position in co-fronting. “Remember yourself. Don’t let yourself hurt her.”
20, 21, 22…
Keeping Steven contained was the equivalent of holding a cat carrier with a violent, strong cat freaking out on the inside. Marc was losing his hold, grip failing—
Steven took advantage of the slip and bolted.
You’d only just gotten through the doors of the building when Steven took off, too far gone to hear Jake reprimanding him or Marc begging him for the body back. He burst through the doors just as you entered the elevator, watching with wide eyes as he raced for you. The doors closed before he reached them, and he slammed into them hard enough to dent them. The suit gave him the strength to pry the doors open with the sound of screeching metal, but the car was already gone, leaving only a gaping hole in the floor. Steven whirled for the stairs with a growl of frustration.
He’d only made it halfway up when he faltered, dizzy from how he was panting and from the overwhelming scents of his neighbors. A part of him was furious. They shouldn't be this close to you. The other was horrified. If he’d have caught you in the elevator, what would he have done?
Steven put his face in his hands. “T-Take over. One of you take over. Please.”
Marc easily slipped into the front, slumping over. Steven disappeared into the farthest reaches of the headspace that he could go, but Marc and Jake both knew it was only a matter of time before he came back out.
Muscles shaking, Marc sprinted the last few floors to the flat, tearing open the door to find your scent fresh and present; his eyes locked on you as you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do. He gently closed and locked the door behind him, striding forward to take you in his arms and kiss you deeply. He wasn’t even aware that his hand rested on your stomach until he broke away to kiss your neck. “No condoms. Please.”
“Mar—“
“Please,” Marc was speaking before his mind could comprehend that he was fucking begging. “I-I dont just wanna have s-sex, I want to mate with you, breed you, pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ He must’ve been rambling, because you took his face in your hands to look him in the eyes. Marc forced himself to form a coherent sentence, though his voice was barely a whisper. “I-I… I want to get you pregnant…” He shook his head, realizing what he was saying in a moment of true clarity. “Baby, I don’t know what’s happening, please forgive me—“
You kissed him softly. Just a peck. “Marc. It’s okay.”
Marc moaned with relief, turning you around and helping you to the bed. He laid you flat on your back and caged you in underneath of him, pressing his face into your neck to lick and suck and bite at your throat. The scents of the flat— you, him, home— relaxed his tense muscles. It made him feel as if you were in a safe zone. He peeled your jacket off and tore off your button-down shirt, the little buttons flying everywhere. Marc didn’t remove the suit, still only maskless— if it enhanced his powers, he wondered if it would enhance other things. If it might take first try.
Your little whimpers and gasps caused his hips to buck into you suddenly. He slipped his waist between your legs, which locked around his torso tightly to pull him closer. The sound of tearing fabric filled the bedroom as Marc tore off your pants and underwear with no effort whatsoever, making you gasp loudly and moan his name. Marc sensed how wet you were and snarled against your neck, grinding into you as he entwined his fingers with yours.
Your naked body was responding to him exactly how he wanted you to. You writhed and rocked against him, squeezing his hands for something to ground you. You wrestled a hand out from under his, and at first he was going to pin it back down, but then your fingers tangled in his curls and tugged. He groaned into your neck, sinking his teeth gently into your flesh and sweeping his other arm underneath of you to hold you against him; yours magnetized around him, hand fisting his cape at his back.
His hand slipped between you, sinking into your heat; you gasped, though the fact that you rocked into his hand made him continue. You were soaked.
He had Jake in one ear, barely able to control himself, whispering about how he needs to fuck you hard and thorough. He had Steven in the other, growling and cussing and trying to force himself to the front to take you himself.
Marc pulled back a little, just enough to maneuver his suit to pull his length out, throbbing and so hard he was nearly in pain. “Baby,” You whispered sympathetically, concerned, and Marc nudged his face into yours.
“Is this okay?”
You frowned, pulling him closer. He’d walk away if you said no, willing to fight through the pain of whatever was wrong with him. “It’s okay.”
Marc slowly, carefully, like you were made of glass, pushed into you. His hips twitched too quickly as he sunk in, as if he was fighting himself not to take you rough. Once he bottomed out, he unleashed a primal groan, deep in the back of his throat. “Oh my god; that’s it, babygirl, that’s it…”
His thrusts were slow as he rubbed your clit, trying to get you to the edge that he was already at. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more and so did you…
He pulled out, ignoring your whine save for a reassuring nudge against your face. “S’okay.” He turned you over, assisting you to your hands and knees; he doubled over you as he buried himself inside you again, pressing against something devastating deep within you— you cried out, loudly enough to where you knew your neighbors would be complaining in the morning. One of his arms swept under your hips to hold you firmly against him, the other, holding himself up alongside your own. You gripped his wrist for leverage as he propped a leg up beside you, knowing that he was going to absolutely ruin you.
The position woke up something feral in him. He was sure that Steven and Jake were co-fronting now, adding to his actions, but he didn’t care. You felt and looked and smelled so fucking good around and under and all over him that he didn’t care at all. His hips pistoned into you at a bruising pace, the head of his cock punching your cervix with each blow. His eyes rolled back in his head as he finally felt the build of his orgasm; but he couldn’t cum yet. Not without you. “Fuck, sweetheart—“ His position shifted slightly. He straightened his back, both hands coming to grip your hips briefly before one slipped underneath of you, pressing against your stomach until you moaned; he started grinding, feeling himself nudge against your insides as you started to sob with pleasure. Marc let out a guttural groan, letting his forehead fall onto your back. You all but screamed when he started roughly massaging your clit with his other hand.
“That’s it, babygirl, that’s it, come on… Come on…”
You came with a piercing wail that almost hurt his ears. Tumbling after you after a few stuttering thrusts was Marc, spilling into you with a yelp of alarm. “Oh— shit!” He stilled, face contorting with the pleasure of his high as he held you against him, panting fast and heavy as he emptied into you for far longer than he was used to. “F-fuck…”
“Huh,” Jake hummed, “Who knew wearing Khonshu’s suit would give us a bigger load.” Steven, on the other hand, had felt the orgasm too, and was calmed down, in a sort of daze.
“M-Marc,” you whimpered, but he was loathe to pull out of you. He reached up and brushed your sweaty hair back away from your face, kissing at your shoulders.
Gently, he rolled over so that you were both on your sides before pulling out; he scooped whatever dripped out right back in, not that it mattered. It didn’t take. She’s not pregnant. Marc frowned, whimpering as he let the suit melt off. You couldn’t take another load like that, not right now; he wasn’t even sure if you could take another orgasm. He was licking at your throat and that spot that drove you crazy, slowly, eyes closed as he breathed you in and held you against him. The contrast of your naked form against his clothed body made him feel off, so he pulled back and stripped of everything, settling in bed beside you.
He was already hard again, and the blissful smile you sent his way only made it worse. It disappeared off your face when you saw his pained expression. “What is it?”
“I… I need more…” He was reluctant to admit it. He didn’t want to take advantage of you.
“Marc…” You cupped his face in your hand. “I can take it. I promise. I’ll use my safeword if I can’t, okay?”
“Okay?” Marc echoed, situating himself above you and between your legs. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you—“
“I’m fine,” Was all the assurance he needed.
It was slower this time, more sensual. He held you against him as he drove carefully into you with firm rolls of his hips, getting as deep as possible. Your shared orgasm was enough to knock him out cold, and Steven fronted. Gently, he caressed your face as he hovered over you, already hard again inside you and knowing it hadn’t taken yet. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, dove,” Steven breathed, nuzzling up under your chin. “Don’t know what came over me… do you have one more in you, lovey? One more?”
You knew full well it wouldn’t be just one more, or two. Steven managed to cum in you once, but he drew two orgasms from you first. Then Jake was fronting, gently moving you so that your legs were over his shoulders before he slowly pounded into you, drawing another orgasm from you when he came.
Fighting the urges, he launched into aftercare, wiping you clean and engulfing you in his hold as you slept.
When he woke, it was Marc. Jake and Steven were quiet. It was only midnight. The full moon blazed through the window, illuminating the whole room with silver light— and you were gone. Marc sat up in a panic, your scent overwhelming him and fresh; but where were you? He called your name warily, only for you to come out of the bathroom with one of his shirts on. Your legs were wobbly. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You needed your rest,” you whispered softly as he helped you back into bed. Immediately, his arms were around you and he was pulling you underneath of him, nuzzling into your throat with a soft hum. There was no trace of the other male’s scent, now. There’s only Marc, Jake, Steven, you… no one else.
You’re still not pregnant.
You’re still ovulating, though. The moon is at its fullest and brightest. He might not even need the suit. His hand traced your stomach, drawing patterns as you ran your hands through his curls. He softly said your name before propping himself up on his elbows to look you in the eye. He didn’t even have to ask; your legs parted for him immediately when you felt him hardening against your thigh, wrapping around his hips.
“Be gentle,” Steven warned, “We’ve had her all night.”
“She can do it,” Jake whispered, “Hermosa, tan hermosa…”
Marc hesitated, biting his lip. His fingers danced over your stomach nervously. “What is it?” You whispered quietly; he seemed a bit back to himself, more lucid, but you feared one wrong word would send him back into the frenzy he and his alters had been in earlier.
“I’m sorry,” Marc choked out, fighting back tears. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart; you didn’t sign up for any of this shit—“
“Marc,” You ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, brushing away tears he didn’t realize he’d shed. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, I’m fucking you so hard with intentions you agreed to without thinking—“
You cut him off with a light scold. “Marc Spector… don’t you remember this morning?” Marc was, reasonably, confused. In fact, he didn’t remember much of the day. It was a blur of aggression and lust for all three of them. He shook his head. “We were talking about kids,” You caressed his cheek, brow furrowing with concern. “How many we wanted, how we’ll need a bigger house… this is just… a different way of trying.”
“...Trying,” Marc repeated after a second, shocked. He still didn’t remember it. But he trusted you. Now, other fears surfaced, ones he hadn’t thought of in his moon-induced trance. “What if I’m not a good dad? What if I’m a horrible father? What if—“
You cut him off with a passionate kiss. Marc melted against you. Don’t even say it, you thought, you’ll never be like your mother. “You’ll be an amazing father,” You whispered instead. “And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.” After a moment, you added, “Do… Do you still want to try?”
Marc shifted slightly, licking his lips, before kissing you warmly. “...Yeah. I do.” You wrapped your arms around his neck with a smile, pulling him close. “Steven and Jake are here,” Marc breathed against your ear as he pushed into you; you hissed, walls over-sensitive from being paid so much attention over the course of the night. “Can they watch, pretty girl? Can they watch us make a baby?”
Your frantic nodding made Steven smile; Jake leaned back as if getting comfortable for a movie. Marc entwined your fingers with his as he slowly rutted into you, dragging his cock along your walls painfully slowly before sliding back in and pressing against something that made you see stars. You breathed his name like a mantra, while Marc whispered honeyed words into your ear. “Our kid’s gonna be so beautiful, having a part of you. Can’t think of anyone in the world I’d rather have a baby with, sweetheart; you, only you.” He nuzzled the side of your face, nipping at your jawline as he drew slow circles over your clit.
When you came, you dragged Marc with you over the edge, the pair of you writhing and moaning against each other in the throes of your ecstasy. As you came to, you saw Marc’s beaming smile, eyes glistening with unshed tears. His hand never left your stomach. “I think we did it… I… I think you’re pregnant.”
Marc let out a breathless laugh against your lips, and you laughed with him, hugging him tightly and kissing all over your face. Marc— finally satiated, back to himself, his alters confused and excited— was smiling like you’d never seen before. He was happy. “We just started a family,” You sniffled, shocked.
“Wouldn’t have done it with anyone else,” Marc said sincerely, tired and spent. He kissed you, warmth radiating off of him as he embraced you. “...I love you. I know I don’t say it a lot, and I should… I’m gonna try harder. To give you everything. To give you both everything…” His eyes locked with yours, both gazes holding unshed tears. He kissed you again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Marc,” You said through your tears, and you fell asleep happy and entangled together under the light of the moon.
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Slowly, pointedly, you turned to glare over your shoulder at Marc, who sat at the dinner table, feigning innocence. “Marc…” You warned.
“What? I’m not doing anything.”
“Not yet.”
“You say that as if I’m known to do something.”
“Marc?” You said, half-turning around, “I learned long ago that I can never trust you with cookie dough.”
The sound of breaking glass in the next room made you both lunge frantically, tripping over yourselves, chairs, and each other as you rushed for the source of the sound. By the time you got there, there was only a little tiny version of Moon Knight, as if he’d been shrunk, dusting himself off as he stood to face you both, clearly having jumped off the couch in an attempt to “fly.”
You both heaved a sigh of exasperation toward your three-year-old son. “Nico,” Marc scolded lightly, coming forward to kneel in front of him. “What’ve we told you, buddy? You’re gonna get yourself hurt. I’ll fly with you, okay? But when you’re older, I promise. Are you hurt?”
Nico shook his little masked head. “No, Daddy. I bumped the vase.” He pointed accusingly toward the shattered glass and remains of flowers. Marc checked him over anyway before holding him gently by the shoulders. “Don’t do that again, okay?” Nico nodded, lowering his head, and Marc added, “Hey. I’m not angry. I just don’t want you getting hurt. I could never be angry at you. Ever. Okay?” He pulled Nico in for a tender embrace.
You watched it all from the doorway with a smile. Nico Randall Spector (Lockley-Grant, but you couldn’t officially put that on any of his birth certificates or documents without causing a whole conundrum of confusion) was every bit like his father. The same hair, same eyes, and same hidden chaotic energy. “Just like his father…”
Marc shot you a teasing glare. “Hey. I’ve never jumped off the couch.”
“So I’m just supposed to pretend we’ve never had Nerf battles, then?” You countered swiftly.
Marc scoffed as he stood with Nico in his arms. “I’ve never jumped off the couch. Have I ever jumped off the couch?” He turned to confirm with your son, who reluctantly nodded; Marc immediately began to tickle him. “Little traitor! I’ve never jumped off the couch! How dare you!”
Only when Nico was nearly out of breath did Marc stop, smiling as he pressed his forehead to his much smaller one. Nico hugged him tight enough to probably choke him, but Marc didn’t care; he gave him a kiss on the cheek before setting him down. “Okay— go change. It’s almost time for dinner.”
“Okay!” Nico started to hurry away; you called after him, “Need any help, Moon Knight?”
“No thank you,” Came his little voice; Jake’s cat, Taco, appeared out from underneath the couch and padded silently after him.
You and Marc watched your son disappear into his room fondly; you’d never seen Marc smile like that until he was born. He unfolded his arms and came over to loosely put his arms around your waist. “Thought you were supposed to be watching him while I finished up.”
“Your fault for distracting me with the cookie dough,” Marc retorted childishly, then added with a wink, “And those damn jeans.”
“Hush,” You whispered.
Marc smiled again, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand fell to splay over your stomach. “Maybe his sister will keep him in line when she gets here.”
You tapped his nose with the spoon you’d been holding. He balked and blinked rapidly. “Hey. That doesn’t even have any dough on it!” Reduced to giggling messes, Marc held you tightly against him and closed his eyes, savoring the closeness.
Dinner was one of those rare moments of domestic bliss; Nico made a ridiculous mess, but all three alters were present, switching who was fronting in order to spend time with their expecting wife and son— and to help clean up. The night ended with Marc being the only one who remained awake after a movie, as you were tucked in on one side of him, his arm around you and his hand over your stomach, and Nico under the other arm. Marc smiled to himself, giving you each a kiss.
“Love you guys. With all my heart.”
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Thanks for reading!
Tags: @dameronsknight @sylkisdagger @atzlena @gucciboots @pastel-0-princess @rosaren2498 @love-on-the-murder-scene @wintergirlsoilder2 @blackcat-midnight-thatsme @multifandomsw @bookloverfilmoholic @khaotic-kris @hb8301 @soggumm @simonsbluee @bobfloydsgf @bluestuesday @magnet-girl @rosellacwrites @dweeb-central @ilymorepls @drwhofangirl1963 @loonymagizoologist @auszimbo @tealrivers @later-gators12 @izbelross @xcatnapsx @child-of-the-moon-gods @djarinsgirl27 @sokoviansorceress @eerievixen @cold-buffet-ham @upbeat-cascade @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @candydancey @rqmanoff @jakelcckley @sharin4readers @lovely-cryptid @marc-spectorr @rmoonstoner @oscarisaacsspit @moonknightyws @hopefulfangirl24 @local-mr-frog @dawnsutopia @hot-mess-express1 @infinitelyforgotten
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skitskatdacat63 · 14 days
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catie let’s discuss vettonso headcanons what are ur favs
*sends you to my vettonso tag* shsjkdkf kidding kidding, but wah this is so weirdly hard to answer despite the fact that I think about them literally every day of my life, ig they're just kinda intrinsic to me 😭 but I'll try my best!
I think Fernando really resented Seb for a while, especially during the championship fight years, and originally was very unhappy when Seb then went on to take his Ferrari seat away from him too. But then while he was gone from f1, he kept track of f1 still and realized Seb was going through the same ferrari bs and pain and failure to realize your childhood dream that he himself went through, and he then softened on Seb.
I find them literally to be the same person(but their narratives are offset.) And I think that's a big reason why they never really became friends, they're *too* similar to the point where it annoys each other too much fhfkkff Especially bcs theyre always ahead of one another in the narrative(fernando won his wdc before, fernando is in ferrari before Seb, seb is in Aston before Fernando, etc.) It's just weird to kinda witness someone that's so similar to you, but at a past stage in your life.
They would be the best and most annoying teammates ever. I think they'd both just constantly try to out-compete each other, and maybe it would be toxic back in the day and make the team fall apart like 2007 mclaren or martian rbr, but if it happened at Aston, I think it would actually make the team stronger and the car better. Like fighting for "who can give the best feedback" "who can do the most sim time" etc etc, I think it'd be really sweet 🥹🥹 I just imagine them making post-race debriefs last like 5 hours, except everyone else snuck out of the room at the hour mark, and they've just been debating abt the telemetry at each other, cause they only have eyes for each other <3
^ but yeah seriously think they have the type of competition that could bring each other together, not drive each other apart. Especially at their softened old man age. I guess I think, being forced into such close quarters with each other, they'd be able to realize how similar they are. Bcs otherwise it's just too easy for them to avoid each other. I mean I think a lot about the japan 2023 pics, them talking over the car that was practically the product of their joint effort, and that makes me so emotional 🤧
They absolutely love irritating each other, irs like a sport. I like to think though that Seb kept doing it soooo much pre-Fernando first retirement, and Fernando was always like 😐 just sooooo done with it, and often unwilling to fully play along. I love how seemingly Seb is one of the only ones who can kinda make his mask break, and have him show full annoyance. Like think about the "you must leave the space" clip, Fernando is sooooo annoyed, its just so funny. But yeah I love how Seb kinda forces Fernando in a way most others don't, if that makes sense? And then he comes back, rejuvenated, different mindset, and is suddenly willing to play along??? And now Seb is the tired one :( but Fernando has realized all he was blocking out before, and is willing to engage :,) BUT YEAH! see again, think about the fact that Seb literally paid a fee to not listen to Fernando talk. Mutually they are the only ones that annoy the other so much that they crack to that point, and I love it seemingly swapped over time. They're just such equals in that way.
Here's the interesting thing, I find them to be mirrors, right? I think like if they met each other when each were at the same place in their career(i.e. ferrari Fernando with ferrari seb, renault wdc fernando with rbr wdc seb), I think they'd have a better chance of getting along. Cause they understand where the other is at deeply, but the way it is in real life makes it so they're at different points and suddenly are at odds with each other. Ig that's why I wish we got them as teammates at Aston! It was pretty cute with alpine fernando x aston seb, but ah man if only we got the actual "conclusion", I would have loved to see what they'd be like when genuinely in the same parts of their career together. I think a lot about timeswap AUs I guess. Like both of them at ferrari being able to commiserate together, their wdc selves bragging about how many races they won(until they find out who the other had to beat to become wdc, and then they choke each other out.)
Me: ill try!!!
Also me: six paragraphs
Though I think if you asked me abt one of my AUs, I could come up with more than just daydreaming about their dynamic sjfkkg. Hope this was what you were asking for???? Also lmk, what are your favs!!!
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aesteraceae · 2 years
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Strawberries
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Tags under the cut!
Tags: Chan/fem!reader, sub Chan (who's surprised?), blood play, masochism, vampires, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, like SLIGHTLY dubious consent due to aphrodisiac venom & under-negotiation but it's really fine, ownership
Summary: In which Chan becomes a blood slave. That's really it.
This wasn't exactly how Chan expected this night to go, but he's not at all complaining.
Taglist: @sunnyville36 @snow-pegasus
Inspired by this thing I wrote a little while ago bc I was horny about Chan's neck lmao
· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
He sits at a bar, his red bracelet on full display as he nurses a glass of something brown and smoky.
The club is dim, low jazzy music playing in the background of hundreds of conversations. It may seem like any normal club, but that couldn't be farther from the truth.
Because most of the conversations happening in the room were different versions of, "Can I feed from you tonight?" And "Your place or mine?"
Vampires.
Chan could pick them out of a crowd easily now, their silky hair, piercing eyes, immaculate posture. Compared to the humans, they stuck out like sore thumbs, only blending in enough to fool the untrained eye.
Then again, maybe chan's opinion was biased. After all, most people who come here haven't been a blood donor since they were 18.
It started by accident, really.
Chan was a curious teenager, too curious for his own good, so when he heard pained noises from an alleyway he went to investigate.
He found a vampire, short and sallow, looking starved as they moaned in the far corner.
Ever the helper, he offered to call an ambulance, something, but they kept saying no. Chan put it together pretty quickly; despite their emaciated look they still had the intense eyes of a vampire, poised for hunting.
His decision to crane his neck to the side and say "Drink from me." was mainly fueled by his exhaustion, but even tired beyond belief he wasn't an idiot. He'd learned about vampires like everyone else did, he's seen them in classes, worked with them, all of it.
So he knows he'll be fine, that worst case scenario he'll pass out in the alley and at the time that didn't seem like a bad deal.
Predictably enough, that's exactly what happened. The vampire, a boy Chan later found out was named Felix, drank their fill and panicked upon seeing that it knocked Chan out cold.
They carried him to their home and let him rest there, and from then on Chan was hooked.
He missed out on some of the high by falling asleep, but even days later he felt rejuvenated, energized, even giddy off of the feeling. He researched and found that it was from the venom vampires inject in their meals— it often had high-inducing effects in humans, though the specifics differed widely from vampire to vampire.
Felix's particular venom was like a triple shot of espresso, pumped directly into his veins.
Even now, 8 years later, with Felix as his best friend, he still asks to be fed from when he has a particularly long night ahead of him.
Felix introduced him to this club a few years back, encouraging him to make more friends, and though it took some getting used to Chan quickly became a regular.
Today, though, he's not really feeling it.
Usually he gets a little buzzed just from the energy of the place, the eyes he knows are following his every move, but not today.
Today, all of his attention is on you.
You're chatting with the bartender a few seats away, hair up in an intricate style and eyes rimmed with dark eyeliner, making them look even sharper, if it was possible.
The bartender is another vampire, but Chan wouldn't be surprised if he tried to take you home after his shift. You're leaning across the bar, cleavage showing beautifully and almost spilling out of the wine red dress covering them.
Chan is interested. He's so beyond interested, borderline infatuated, and he literally swoons when you flash your fangs at the man, perfectly white and long.
Chan loved longer fangs, he could always feel the sting for longer and that meant a longer high.
"I'm here to find something to eat, but sadly I haven't had much catch my eye."
The bartender makes a sympathetic noise and hands you another glass of whiskey, which you down in just a few swallows.
Chan's head actually swims with how hot the sight is, and he figures he should probably say something before he passes out.
"Unfortunate odds, really. Not a single person in here interests you?"
Chan flinches when your eyes, so intense and dark, settle on him, but your low laugh is enough to ease the embarrassment.
"Hmm... Now that I get a good look at you, I think I've changed my mind."
You slide down to the seat beside him and the bartender gives Chan a dirty look, but he's too preoccupied with your eyes to notice.
He's left bereft, though, when you close them.
"Sorry, I don't want to seduce you too quickly."
And sure enough, the melty feeling in chan's chest is gone, or at least dimmed.
"Oh. Is that a normal thing?"
You shrug. "It's just a me thing, I think. Seduction, lust, the works. It's why it's so difficult to find food these days, I try not to make people too attached but that's hard when your venom is based on binding people to you with sex."
If Chan didn't think he'd look like a complete idiot, he'd wave his hand in the air like an overeager 1st grader.
"Well, that's not a problem for everyone. Certainly not one for me."
Your eyes open, slow, and Chan lets out a breath as the heat settles over him again, warm and disorienting.
"Is that so?"
· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Chan adopted a policy to never go to someone else's house for these little visits a long time ago, after a few cose calls that ended with Felix essentially putting him on house arrest.
Luckily you're fine with it, and Felix is rarely ever home at night.
Chan is shaking too hard to get the key in the lock, so you smoothly guide it out of his hands and open the door for him.
It's a tiny gesture, but it makes Chan's insides burn up.
"So... Should we... Um... Get started? Maybe?"
You laugh at him, somehow both mocking and fond, like watching a pet run into a wall.
"How about this, honey? You just sit down and get comfortable, and I take what I need."
Chan's nodding before he even recognizes the words, climbing onto the bed and settling against the pillows.
"Such a pretty thing. I bet your blood tastes lovely."
You climb on top of him, pressing featherlight kisses to his neck and cheeks.
"I've been told- ah- it tastes like fruit."
"Oh really?" You nip at his neck, that same familiar spot vampires always know how to find, not breaking the skin but making Chan wish you would.
"Please," he whispers, back already arching. It's heady, the energy in the room, your eyes pressing past his skin and into his very soul, dragging out his arousal like warm taffy.
"How can I say no when you beg so pretty?"
Chan barely gets a breath before you're digging your fangs into him, and he blacks out for a second.
It's always a lot, the mixture of pain and pleasure, but this is unlike anything Chan has ever experienced.
If your gaze made him hot, your bite turned him into molten lava, burning through his bloodstream and leaving nothing but pleasure in it's wake.
It feels like an orgasm, but drawn out and aching, until Chan can't help but scream.
When you finally pull away, pearly white fangs now stained red, the predatory look in your eyes is enough to make Chan actually cum, shouting and bucking up against nothing.
He starts to thrash, overwhelmed with the intensity of the venom. It's thick, he can feel it sliding through his veins and it's maddening, replacing all his coherent thoughts with "yes yes yes fuck me fuck me now please".
"Strawberries." You hiss, words slurring a bit, sharp nails reaching down to hold his thighs still.
"I'm going to fuck you up." You whisper, ripping straight through chan's jeans and boxers.
Chan's exposed, and in any other situation he'd be embarrassed but all he can focus on is the steady heat of the venom, travelling across his shoulders and chest.
"Please," He sobs, shaking, already overstimulated and you've barely even touched him.
"Shh, I'll take care of you."
Your voice is deeper, predatory, like knives gliding across Chan's skin, and he can't help but arch up into the sound.
You don't get to do much more than touch the tip of his cock before Chan's cumming again, legs scrambling for purchase on the bed and breath hiccuping.
He's sobbing, but his hips are pressing up into your hand, desperate for more stimulation.
Chan can't breathe, can't think, can't cum without your touch, without your eyes all over him, both violent and loving at the same time.
You stare up at him as you take his cock into your mouth, fangs scraping across the sides, and Chan actually blacks out for a bit.
When he comes to, you're toying with his ass, pressing a finger in and out, resting your head on your palm as if you were just watching TV, instead of pulling Chan apart like taffy.
"I can't," Chan sobs, because he can feel his vision getting spotty. How long has it been? It didn't feel like long at all, but all Chan's perceptions have been zeroed into you. His only metric of time is the pulsing of your bite, and Chan honestly doesn't want to pay attention to anything else.
"You can, baby. Just one more."
You slide in another finger and Chan cums, ripping a hole in the sheets and yowling, definitely waking up his neighbors, but you smile at him, pleased, and Chan physically can't bring himself to care about anyone other than you.
You pull away from him, just staring down at his spent body, and Chan only catches a few words before he's drifting asleep.
"You're all mine, now."
· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
When Chan wakes up, he's still in your arms.
The room is airy and smells like citrus, and normally Chan would get up by now but he can't think of a good reason to, not when you're kissing his jaw like that.
"Good morning, pet."
Chan shudders at the pet name and memories of last night flood in, heat and need and infatuation.
"Good morning."
He stretches out across the bed and smiles over at you, reaching up to trace the swollen bite mark.
"How does it feel to be claimed, little one?"
Chan leans over and presses his lips to yours, slotting his body right up against you and settling in.
"Perfect."
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befemininenow · 1 year
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It’s surprising how much society became more accepting of trans people throughout your lifetime, even with all the problems today. It’s even more surprising that you look almost the same from those secret, saucy pictures you took years ago. You always went for an androgynous look as you felt too uncomfortable being masculine. Now that you’re post op, perhaps it’s time to revisit and model as the girls from your day. The HRT certainly rejuvenated you.
-Flashback post: This pic was used in a old, defunct TG caption site while the original source is difficult to trace. What I love about this pic is her cute, shocked expression while seductively posing in front of the camera. Dressing as a girl and feeling euphoria was often the first signs for many trans girls finding their identity. Getting caught looking like a girl, however, was also their first trauma as the likely result was often scolding and/or violence from parents or close people. Many of them locked up their feelings for years, thinking they were just “sissies”, crossdressers, or gay guys while dealing with possible gender dysphoria. None of these terms are synonymous with trans girls and trans women. It’s never too late to transition, especially with the resources trans people have today. You may not turn into your dream girl from back then, but you will definitely be changing into your internal self for once.
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akagaboo · 18 days
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Prologue
Once upon a time, in a kingdom called Rosas, there was a sorcerer king who could grant people's wishes... yes, that was me! But this is in the past, I must say what happened to me after I was imprisoned. Amaya, my wife, visited me every night, and she cried for me, and it was like that until one night, she didn't come to see me in the dungeon anymore. She had surpassed me. About a year later, when she remembered me, she called me, but I didn't respond, she shook the Crystal, but I didn't appear and finally, thinking I was dead, she threw the Crystal into the sea, but no, I didn't. he was dead, he was just somewhere else. Although I had lost the Dark Power, I still had my old magic, and I eventually discovered that the Crystal had trapped me in the Dimension of Reflections. Through small reflections of the outside world, I saw how fishermen with their nets pulled the Crystal from the bottom of the Mediterranean and how I also saw that the Crystal had been sold to a artisan, who was amazed at its beauty and wished to make a mirror that had the same intensity, and for that it would use volcanic crystal, which we call obsidian. The artisan was so obsessed with the beauty of the Crystal that he not only wanted to be inspired by it but for it to be part of his work and so he threw the Crystal into the hot, glowing lava before it touched the sea. The heat cracked the Crystal, but this did not free me but rather encompassed my prison and then the craftsman polished it, refined it and polished it and I was then incorporated into the Mirror, and now it was my new prison, but I discovered that this had encompassed my reach, the Dimension of Reflections allowed me to wander the world through the reflections of mirrors and so, decades passed and the old craftsman was bent with age, and that was when I realized that the outside world changed, but I no. I didn't age, I didn't feel hunger, nor thirst, nor heat, nor cold nor sleep, I think that my prison outside of space and time gave me sustenance or perhaps it was my old magic.
One day, the King of those lands heard about the artisan's Mirror and came to personally check it out and was amazed at its beauty, and said that he would get sick if he didn't have it, he would pay double, triple what the Mirror was worth and the old artisan didn't sell it but gave it away willingly, saying that the money would be worthless as death was already at his bedside. And I watched all of this. The King took the Mirror to his castle, and left it in the throne room; above the throne, where everyone could see him. And I watched, as the years went by, I acquired more knowledge, and I never tried to see Rosas' reflections. One day, a widowed King, from that King's lineage, remarried and his wife was young but very vain. She was so amazed by the Mirror, that she asked him to take it to the royal apartments, and every morning she would admire her reflection. Some time later, the King fell ill and ended up passing away and the Queen was left in charge of the kingdom and her stepdaughter, but there came a time when I saw that the young queen became vain to an abnormal point and then consulted magic books for rejuvenation and that called me to attention, the Queen was studying more and more magic, and one day, she looked into the Mirror and I could have sworn that she was looking at me with those penetrating green eyes, and so she came before it admiring herself and in an ironic tone, said:
"Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, who's the fairest of them all?"
and I, as I had already wandered through the reflections and knew that there was no one, manifested myself under a mask and revealed that she was just the most beautiful in that kingdom, and instead of fear, I saw her eyes shine and so as the years passed , I revealed hidden and powerful spells to her, who was more and more versed in witchcraft, until one day she asked the same question she asked every morning and night and I replied that her stepdaughter was now the most beautiful and that consumed her, he made tricks to kill the Most Beautiful of All and one day she disappeared and the Mirror was forgotten, other kings came but none with the glory of the kings of old and the kingdom ceased to exist, and the Mirror passed from one hand to another and in that time, 500 years passed and then I met a man called Santiago.
Note:
When I saw Magnifico trapped in that crystal, I immediately saw a mirrored prison where he would see the world from that moment on and I thought: "Hey, this would make a good story, wouldn't it?" and I thought about doing it but gave up, but when I rewatched it, the little voice from deep down said it and I complied and I was thrilled when they mentioned the Magic Mirror and "What if..." came to me, then something led to something else and this project came out, I hope you like it! XD
Era uma vez, em um reino chamado Rosas, um rei feiticeiro que podia realizar os desejos das pessoas... sim, este foi eu! Mas isto é passado, devo dizer o que houve comigo depois que fui aprisionado. Amaya, minha esposa, me visitava todas as noites, e chorou por mim, e foi assim até que uma noite, ela não veio mais me ver no calabouço. Havia me superado. Cerca de 1 ano depois, ao se relembrar de mim, ela chamou-me, mas não respondi, ela chacoalhou o Cristal, mas não apareci e por fim, julgando que eu estivesse morto, jogou o Cristal no mar, mas não, eu não estava morto, só estava em outro lugar. Embora eu tivesse perdido o Poder Sombrio, eu ainda tinha minha velha magia, e acabei descobrindo que o Cristal me aprisionara em um lugar onde eu podia ver impressões do mundo exterior, como se fossem espelhos, eu o chamei de Dimensão dos Reflexos. Através de pequenos reflexos, eu vi quando pescadores com suas redes, puxaram o Cristal do fundo do Mediterrâneo e como também vi que o Cristal havia sido vendido para um artesão, que ficou maravilhado com a beleza dele e desejou fazer um espelho que tivesse a mesma intensidade, e para isso usaria cristal vulcânico, o qual chamamos de obsidiana. O artesão estava tão obcecado com a beleza do Cristal que não queria apenas se inspirar nele mas que ele fizesse parte da sua obra e então ele jogou o Cristal na lava quente e incandescente antes que ela tocasse o mar. O calor rachou o Cristal, mas isso não me libertou mas sim abrangeu minha prisão e então o artesão, poliu-a, refinou-a e a lapidou e eu fui, então, incorporado ao Espelho, e agora, ele era minha nova prisão, mas descobri que isso havia abrangido meu alcance, a Dimensão dos Reflexos me permitiu vagar pelo mundo através dos reflexos dos espelhos e assim, décadas se passaram e o velho artesão estava encurvado pela idade, e foi quando percebi que o mundo exterior mudava, mas eu não. Eu não envelhecia, não sentia fome, nem sede, nem calor, nem frio e nem sono, penso que minha prisão fora do espaço e tempo me dava sustento ou talvez fosse minha velha magia.
Certo dia, o Rei daquelas terras, soube do Espelho do artesão e veio pessoalmente conferir e ficou maravilhado com a beleza dele, e disse que adoeceria se não o possuisse, pagaria o dobro, o triplo que o Espelho valesse e o velho artesão não vendeu mas o deu de bom grado, dizendo que de nada valeria mais o dinheiro pois já estava com a morte à cabeceira. E eu observei tudo isso. O Rei levou o Espelho para o seu castelo, e o deixou na sala do trono; acima do trono, onde todos pudessem vê-lo. E eu observei, os anos passarem, eu adquiria mais conhecimento, e nunca me passou tentar ver os reflexos de Rosas. Um dia, um Rei viúvo, da linhagem daquele Rei, casou-se novamente e a mulher era jovem mas muito vaidosa. Ficou tão maravilhada com o Espelho, que pediu que o levasse para os aposentos reais, e toda manhã ficava admirando seu reflexo. Tempos depois, o Rei adoeceu e acabou falecendo e a Rainha ficou encarregada do reino e de sua enteada, mas chegou um momento que vi que a jovem rainha ficou vaidosa a um ponto anormal e então consultava livros de magia para rejuvenescimento e aquilo me chamou a atenção, a Rainha estava estudando mais e mais magia, e certo dia, olhou para o Espelho e eu poderia jurar que ela estava a me olhar com aqueles olhos verdes e penetrantes, e assim ela veio diante dele se admirar e em tom irônico, disse: Espelho, Espelho Meu, quem é mais bela do que eu? e eu, como já vagara através dos reflexos e sabia que não havia ninguém, me manifestei sob uma máscara e revelei que ela era apenas a mais bela daquele reino, e ao invés de medo, vi seus olhos brilharem e assim com o passar dos anos, revelei feitiços ocultos e poderosos a ela, que estava mais e mais versada em bruxaria, até que um dia ela fez a mesma pergunta que fazia todas as manhãs e todas as noites e eu respondi que a sua enteada agora era a mais bela e aquilo a consumiu, fez artimanhas para matar a Mais Bela de Todas e um dia desapareceu e o Espelho foi esquecido, outros reis vieram mas nenhum com a glória dos reis de outrora e o reino deixou de existir, e o Espelho passou de uma mão para outra e nesse tempo, passou-se 500 anos e então conheci um homem chamado Santiago.
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deepspacedukat · 10 months
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Safe Haven - Part Three
We’re here!!! We finally got to the part that has the scene from my dream in it!! I’ll put a note at the end to say which scene it was, but yeah! Enjoy! And thank you for taking this impromptu three-part ride with me! 💖
Also, for those of you on my taglist, I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not trying to spam you all. I’m just posting a lot because SoC and random plot bunnies.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
S’Talon (OC) x Reader
[A/N: Implied smut/smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Interspecies romance, angst, flirtation, cuddling, kissing, angst with a happy ending, implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Romulan sex.
~*~
S’Talon had caught her looking, he was sure of it. For once, any forwardness on his part was entirely an accident, but he was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that she had glanced down intentionally.
A week after S’Talon discovered his labor of love in his hostess’s library, the subject matter of said painting reminded him that he had never asked about the water he kept hearing. He brought it up to her one evening, and she told him about the small creek snaking through the woods near the house. The narrow body of water apparently led to a crystal clear lake with a small beach along a section of the shore.
In the early afternoon the next day, he’d gone to the lake, stripped down, and dove in for a swim. It had been too long since the last time he’d gone skinny dipping, so he remained there longer than he’d anticipated. The cool water felt rejuvenating as it welcomed him into its depths, caressing him as gently as a lover as he swam deeper. Bright sunlight trickled through the trees and across the water, creating an idyllic scene as his head burst through the lake’s surface so he could breathe.
Shaking the water from his eyes, S’Talon blinked and caught sight of a figure on the shore near his clothing with a couple of towels slung over their arm.
Ah. He knew he’d forgotten something. He swam to lake’s edge and began to climb out before he remembered his state of undress. She seemed to realize he wasn’t wearing anything when the tops of his nude hips became visible, because she offered him one of the towels she’d brought. At the last moment, though, she glanced down as he approached, then quickly looked away biting her lip.
S’Talon couldn’t help the ego boost he got from her reaction. He was very aware that he wasn’t lacking in stature with any part of his anatomy, but it still felt good to know that she was impressed.
“Thank you. Are you alright, lhhei?” He asked as he draped the towel around his waist.
“Oh, I...you’d been gone for a while, and I just noticed you didn’t bring any towels with you, so I...yeah. I’ll uh...I’ll set the extras with your clothes and leave you to it,” she said before rushing back in the direction of the house. Perhaps one day - if he was extremely lucky - he’d be able to convince her to swim with him...
--
For a couple of days after that, their contact was somewhat more limited and subdued than before. S’Talon couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been more embarrassed than he had supposed by the incident at the lake. When he was preparing to go to bed one night, though, he smelled something somewhat familiar.
What was that? It was sweet...warm...even a little sugary. How odd. Slipping on a pair of sleep pants, the Riov padded quietly out of his bedroom and went to investigate.
When he caught sight of his hostess, he saw her staring pensively at the painting he’d completed for her. The majestic firefalls of Gal Gath’thong now hung proudly over the mantle above her fireplace, seemingly flickering and flowing in the light low, warm lighting of its own accord.
Something was wrong, though. Her brow was furrowed. She’d been so appreciative of the painting when he’d presented it to her that he was quite certain that whatever was troubling her didn’t have anything to do with the artwork. What could it be, then?
The mug in her hands was half-empty, but his nose told him that the liquid within was the source of the scent he’d detected only moments prior. It smelled almost like chocolate. What could she be doing drinking such a strong intoxicant at such a late hour?
Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed him standing in the doorway to the living area in nothing more than a pair of soft sleep pants. He hadn’t intended to bother her, especially not shirtless. Slowly, carefully, S’Talon made his way to the sofa and took a seat beside her, glancing from the mug to her face.
“What could be serious enough to drive a lady like you to drink alone?” He asked in a low, gentle voice. Even he could hear the concern lying beneath the surface of his words, but she simply looked amused.
“Chocolate may behave like alcohol for Romulans, S’Talon, but it doesn’t for Humans,” she murmured as a smile crept across her lips. “For me, this is nothing more than something warm and sweet.”
Oh, right. He’d forgotten that little biological difference. Humans really were remarkable. They had a third of a Romulan’s strength, yet they could stomach a large mug of warmed chocolate without so much as it lowering their inhibitions.
“Then...may I ask if you’re alright? You looked troubled a moment ago...” Curiosity permeated him in the wake of his relief. She took a leisurely sip of her drink before answering.
“Whenever I had something serious on my mind when I was growing up, my grandmother would make us hot chocolate and talk it through with me. Sometimes all I needed was someone to listen while I talked my own way through the issue,” she explained, and S’Talon tilted his head curiously as he turned to face her a bit more fully. So something had been on her mind.
“If there is anything I can do to help, I assure you, dear lady, I’m the soul of discretion. Anything you tell me or ask of me will remain entirely confidential,” the Riov promised, and she looked at him with an unreadable expression.
Taking the final sip from her mug, she set it aside and scooted close enough to lean her head against his bare shoulder. Her arms wrapped loosely around his bicep as she took a deep breath. S’Talon’s heart thudded faster in his side, and he rested his chin softly against the top of her head as his hand covered one of hers.
“You just being here is enough,” she murmured, and S’Talon smiled against the top of her head. If this was what she needed from him, he would happily oblige. In fact, there was very little he would refuse her, at this point.
He’d spent a significant amount of time sorting through his feelings, wondering what the hell she was doing to him. By the time he finally realized what was happening, it was too late to go back.
Riov S’Talon - the man said to be almost impossible to tie down - was in love. This wasn’t the same type of appreciation he’d felt for his past lovers, oh no. This was deeper. This tugged at his soul and consumed him as quickly and fully as a fire would a forest’s underbrush. He’d been so happy every time a friend had found the person who completed them, but he never thought that he’d be fortunate enough to find the one who would make him feel as though all of him was visible and desirable...
But he had.
He had no idea how long they stayed tangled up like that, but eventually he felt her shift against his arm. Looking down, S’Talon’s eyes met hers, and the soft expression on her face stole his breath away. Could she feel the growing tension between them too? Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? Would she kiss him?
Her free hand reached up, cupping his cheek softly as she sat up. She didn’t move away immediately, and S’Talon’s heart leapt. Was this it? From his experience, that look from a partner usually meant they wanted to kiss him. Badly.
“...Thank you for your company tonight, but it’s getting late. I should get to bed before I fall asleep on you. I wouldn’t want to trap you here,” she breathed, and then she was on her feet, putting her empty mug back in the replicator before he could so much as find his voice to protest. She didn’t have to. He’d welcome her using him as a pillow anytime. He would adore her falling asleep on him. She’d been so gentle and soft in his arms. “Goodnight, S’Talon.”
“Goodnight, e’lev lhhei,” he murmured, noting how rough his voice sounded. When she disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom, the Riov felt more bereft than he had in all his life. All he’d done was not receive a kiss when he thought that he would. Why did he feel like he was crumbling into pieces?
This love was dangerous, and that realization didn’t bode well for his eventual departure. Rubbing his hands down his face, he sighed heavily. He was doomed. This woman was going to break his heart, and he had no idea how he was going to put it back together afterward.
--
When S’Talon finally forced himself out of bed a few mornings later, he spent a few moments watching the rain trickle down the window panes. He hadn’t slept that night. In fact, he hadn’t slept for any of the three nights since he mistakenly thought his beautiful companion was going to kiss him. That moment kept replaying over and over in his mind’s eye, driving him nearly to the brink of insanity. The gentle, affectionate look in her eyes...the soft caress of her skin against his as she touched him...
Had it really only been gratitude? Every instinct within him screamed that it was more, but if it had been, surely she would have kissed him as he’d hoped...wouldn’t she? She didn’t seem like the type of person to shrink away from a challenge. Then again, perhaps she was intimidated by him. If her reaction down at the lake was anything to go by, that could very well be the case.
It was more likely, though, that she simply didn’t share his feelings.
What a foolish old man he was! He shouldn’t have hoped that his feelings were reciprocated. After all, he’d be gone soon. Surely she wouldn’t want to subject herself to the same heartbreak that he would undoubtedly experience at his departure.
The thought that troubled him the most, though, was that he didn’t want to leave at all. With increasing frequency over the last week, the Riov found himself seriously tempted to stay with his lovely woman on this gorgeous planet. This felt like a major crossroads for S’Talon - one that he didn’t yet know how to approach.
As he always did when he was approaching a difficult question, S’Talon turned to his art for an answer.
Sighing heavily, the Romulan Captain dressed in a tunic that his hostess had replicated for him the day he arrived. The soft fabric was somewhere between slate blue and gray, bringing out the depth of color in his eyes. There was a pair of pants that complemented it, and he realized rather belatedly that there was an inherent sentimentality in his choice. She had replicated that outfit for him. Though the sleeves were a little long, she had believed that this color would look good on him.
He really was in over his head.
Truth be told, S’Talon enjoyed the feeling of someone caring enough to put real thought into something that was meant for him. Though she likely didn’t care for him the way he wished that she did, he still savored the feeling of the soft fabric caressing his skin.
Grabbing his sketchbook and charcoal, he wandered out of his room and toward the back porch in the hopes that the soothing natural rhythm of the rain would help him relax and distract him from his troubled thoughts. Maybe then, his subconscious would be able to sort out what he should do.
As he opened the door, though, his breath caught in his throat. On one end of the loveseat was the very woman who had practically made a home in his mind. When she looked up at him seemingly unaware that he’d been there for several long moments, S’Talon cleared his throat quietly, giving her a small smile in an attempt to appear more confident than he felt.
“May I join you, my lady? I find it soothing to sketch during a gentle rain.”
She smiled up at him and patted the seat next to her in invitation.
“Of course. What’s mine is yours, S’Talon,” she murmured, and the Riov thanked her, sitting beside her as she’d indicated.
The pair lapsed into silence, enjoying the sound of raindrops trickling down from the heavens and onto the ground below. The rustling of leaves in the wind added an almost musical quality to the atmosphere, and, with a particularly swirling gust, S’Talon made up his mind about what he wanted to draw.
As surreptitiously as he could manage, he stole glances at his companion, carving out her visage in profile on the page, even including the book that lay closed atop her lap. Gradually, he shut off his mind and began to lose himself in his art, creating the strands of her hair and the curve of her eyelashes with the ease of his many decades of experience.
The shape of her lips, the gentle slope of her neck as she reclined easily with the use of the small ottoman in front of her...S’Talon brought every part of her to life upon the page in front of him. He worked with such focus that by the time he’d filled the pair of pages in front of him with sketches of her, he couldn’t be sure just how much time had passed.
Just as he always did when he drew himself out of an intense sketching session, S’Talon felt as though he was waking from a dream...as though he had come back to reality from a land filled only with flicks of the wrist and smears of black and gray. He set his charcoal carefully into his sketchbook and allowed himself the rare luxury of observing his lovely companion unfettered.
Apparently, she hadn’t noticed yet that he’d stopped. He’d observed her before, of course, but usually he had the excuse of being in conversation with her. Now, though, he had no such reasoning to hide his interest in her. He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her...to coax her into his arms and confess everything he felt for her, but he knew that wasn’t feasible.
He already knew that when he left, his heart would be torn in half by the loss of her. S’Talon didn’t want to give her any reason to experience the same pain. As much as he wanted her to feel the same, he didn’t want her to be hurt at his hands, physically or emotionally. If she was, he knew he could never forgive himself. She’d been so kind and generous and welcoming. How could he justify risking her heart, too? Surely he would experience enough heartbreak for the both of them–
The Riov blinked and she was looking at him. Her lovely, much-too-clever eyes were staring right into his soul, likely dissecting his feelings as easily as she dismantled encryption codes. Of course, he supposed that hadn’t exactly been subtle. He was quite certain that his feelings were plainly written upon his face - longing and love were undoubtedly obvious in his expression. He couldn’t hide it.
Alarmingly, he didn’t want to hide it anymore.
Looking down at his sketchbook, surprise flitted over her face as she realized that she had been the subject of his artistic endeavors on this rainy morning. Her eyes flicked back up to his, and she reached carefully over, rubbing her thumb over his cheek as she mumbled something about a charcoal smudge.
S’Talon knew she was just being helpful, but he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned into her gentle touch, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut for a moment before he caught her hands in his and brought them to his lips. Taking a shaky breath, he opened his eyes from his stolen moment of bliss just in time to see her swallow nervously and get to her feet.
His heart almost stopped in his side. Had he scared her away?
Instead of leaving, though, she set his sketching materials and her book aside  and took a tentative seat sideways on his lap. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and was unfazed when he steadied her with his large, strong hands.
S’Talon could scarcely believe that this was real. Was he truly awake? His hostess looked as surprised by her own boldness as he felt.
“E’lev...you have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he breathed, using the last of his restraint to hold himself back. This had to be her choice. He wouldn’t rush this. No matter how far they’d come or what he could infer from her behavior, this had to be her decision. He wouldn’t risk her heart with his own foolish wishes. If the flames of desire were to be fanned between them, he couldn’t be the one to start it. Not this time. She had to actively choose to take this risk.
And she did. One moment S’Talon was awestruck by the sight of the woman he loved in his arms, and the next, her soft, beautiful lips were against his. He kissed her back - of course he did - and she stole his thoughts and discipline all at once when she let out a quiet whimper against his lips. Wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her closer, the Riov wove his free hand into her hair near the base of her skull, trying to convey how much he felt for her with just his lips.
He didn’t rush her, didn’t change her pace, instead he simply met her passion with own. Eventually, they broke apart for breath, and S’Talon cupped her face as lightly as he could, dropping gentle kisses against her forehead, her eyelids, and her nose with all the tenderness he could muster.
When their lips met again, he could taste salt. Were those his tears or hers? Both, perhaps?
His curiosity was obliterated by the feeling of her fingers fumbling with the front of his tunic. Sweeping her up into his arms, the Riov carried his lover inside. She deserved to have their first time together be in a bed where he could spread her out and truly worship her.
Several hours later, having accomplished exactly that multiple times, S’Talon and his lady love were tangled up in each other, basking in the afterglow of the most intense orgasms of their lives. Her small, delicate fingers traced nonsensical patterns over his chest through the silvery hair that covered his pecs when he heard her sniffle.
It took him a moment to process what he’d heard, but when she sniffled a second time, alarm coursed through him.
“Sweet girl...Oh, e’lev, what’s wrong?” S’Talon asked as he gently kissed away her tears. “Have I hurt you?”
She shook her head, allowing him to wrap her in his arms and hold her close.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered against his chest, and before the Riov could ask what she meant, she continued quickly as if confessing to a crime. “I know this probably isn’t what you wanted. You probably have lady friends in every system, and this is likely just another affair to you, but I...S’Talon, I think I’m in love with you.”
Was he dreaming? She’d deduced rather early on that he was something of a lady’s man and a flirt, joking that he probably charmed every woman he came across, and he hadn’t dissuaded her of the notion. She was essentially correct, but he hadn’t realized that that particular fact had been causing her such consternation and anxiety. Was this what she’d been so troubled by the night he found her sipping hot chocolate and staring off into nothingness? Had she been afraid that he couldn’t return her affections because of his past?
Nothing could be further from the truth. He’d been grateful that she’d felt attracted to him in the first place, but for her to feel the same way he did...S’Talon knew he’d been given a miraculous gift. He just needed to ensure that she knew that, too.
With tears brimming in his own eyes, S’Talon pulled back just far enough to kiss his lover with all the emotion that had been pounding away inside his chest.
“You’re...not mad at me?” A small, damp laugh escaped him before he could stop it, and he kissed her forehead.
“Of course not. In fact, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he murmured, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I love you, too, e’lev. I love you with all that I am.”
If the soft kisses she peppered across his face were any indication, they’d been sharing the same emotional torment. Her lips met his, and they twined together once more, reveling in the relief that they were both equally smitten with each other.
--
The weeks that followed were as idyllic as a dream. Melting into each other over and over, S’Talon and his lover lived as though they’d always been together and would be inseparable for the rest of their lives.
But they both knew in the backs of their minds that time was an imminent threat. Beneath all the sweet, romantic words, the kisses and caresses, there was the sobering knowledge that soon the Dhaemnasi would expect his Riov to come back to Romulus. Every moment, every second that passed drew them just that much closer to their hearts shattering irreparably, but neither of them would change their decision to be together for anything.
Finally, one morning while they were laying in bed together catching their breath, S’Talon realized there might be a way to delay time, even if he couldn’t stop it.
“E’lev, you get assignments from the Tal, occasionally. Do you have a secure commlink to Koval that I can use?” S’Talon murmured, and his little lover kissed her way softly across his cheek.
“I’ll set it up for you,” she promised before slipping out of his arms and grabbing a robe to do just that. How had he gotten so lucky? Mere moments later, he stood fully dressed in front of the comm screen and watched Koval’s face appear.
“Status report, Riov,” the Dhaemnasi ordered, and S’Talon obliged him, giving him a perfunctory nod of his head.
“The mission went without incident. There were no unanticipated problems or consequences,” he stated, and Koval lifted an eyebrow.
“There are still two weeks left before you return. If there were no complications, then what, may I ask, is the purpose of your communication?”
After a final, minor hesitation and a deep, steadying breath, S’Talon looked at his old friend and prayed that he would understand the significance of what he was about to do.
“I wish to request a leave of absence. It has been over a decade since I have taken more than a short pause between missions. As such, I should have a significant amount of time accumulated,” the Riov said watching as Koval tilted his head. “I realize this isn’t exactly the most convenient request that I could make, but...”
“A leave of absence? Are you certain, old friend? For a man of your standing such a break would not harm your career, but you’ve always been so enthusiastic and dedicated,” the Chairman said adopting a slightly more relaxed posture in his chair. “What happened?”
Allowing his own posture to slacken by a fraction, he leaned back against the desk behind him.
“I...believe I may have found something unique here, something...that I desperately need to explore.” Raising a placating hand, S’Talon cut off the other man’s objections before he could voice them. “I’m quite certain I know what you’re thinking, and no, I am not asking for this leave time in order to conduct a mere fling. I would never shirk my responsibilities for something temporary. This time...Koval, I have never felt a connection like this. Perhaps this sounds melodramatic, but there is a part of my very being that is screaming for me to pursue this, and if I don’t, I feel as though I’ll die. My old friend, you know I would never make a request like this unless it was for a good reason.”
S’Talon watched as his friend steepled his fingers. Silence stretched between them for longer than he’d expected, and just when he was certain he’d made a mistake even hoping for a positive reaction, Koval nodded his head.
“How long?”
The Riov could barely believe he’d gotten this far.
“Long enough to determine what she and I should do. If I recall correctly, I think I have over half a year of leave time built up, so...maybe two of those months?” S’Talon suggested, and Koval shook his head.
“No, that simply won’t do,” the Dhaemnasi said, and S’Talon’s heart plummeted. “Take three instead.”
Looking up sharply, he was quite certain that surprise was etched across his face.
“Pardon?”
“Take three months of leave. That should be sufficient time for you both to determine if you wish to truly pursue this, and if you do, you’ll also have time to consider how you will make such a relationship possible.” S’Talon could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Did you truly believe I would refuse you? I’ll handle the details. Now, go. Be with your mate. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”
The Riov barely had time to stammer out his gratitude before the Dhaemnasi terminated the connection. He was free. Shutting off the terminal, S’Talon walked out of his lover’s study and found her humming a quiet tune as she poured tea into two mugs for them. He wasted no time in striding over to her and setting the teapot aside as he crushed his lips against hers.
“He said yes,” he breathed between kisses, and she threw her arms around his shoulders. “He must’ve been afraid of angering his best hacker. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while, e’lev lhhei.”
“Oh, what a terrible shame,” she teased as he lifted her onto the countertop and stepped between her legs. Her fingers wove into his graying hair and S’Talon joyfully accepted her affection. They would have time to discuss their options and their future, but first, he wanted to make the woman he loved scream his name again.
~*~*~
Taglist:
@android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee
~*~
For those who are interested, the scene from my dream was the one where S’Talon joins the reader on the porch during the rain shower and sketches her. It was from my perspective, and I woke up right before I could try to wipe the charcoal smudge off his cheek, though. 😭 So now you know what drove me to the brink of insanity.
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literallybipanic · 1 year
Text
Be My Baby - Beca x Chloe Pitch Perfect oneshot
this is my first ever one shot pls do give criticism if there is any I would really appreciate it.
THIS IS A SFW REGRESSION STORY
Beca and Chloe had always been tightknit friends since they joined the Barden University Bellas a few years ago. But something strange had been happening to the duo lately - Beca had been feeling a sudden urge to be babied and coddled, while Chloe had been feeling a strong pull to take care of her friend like a mother. They couldn't explain why this was happening, but they never talked about it too much, fearful of sounding crazy.
One day, they were studying together in their dorm room when Beca suddenly had a meltdown, crying and screaming because she couldn't understand her math homework. Chloe didn't know how to calm her friend down, so she did the only thing that came to mind - she cradled Beca in her arms and patted her back softly, trying to soothe her. Surprisingly, Beca didn't resist; in fact, she relaxed into Chloe's embrace and let out a sigh of contentment, like a little kid comforted by their mommy.
At that moment, something within Chloe snapped, and she realized what she had to do. She whispered gentle words of encouragement and rocked Beca back and forth, singing a lullaby under her breath. Soon enough, Beca had stopped crying and had fallen asleep in Chloe's arms, her body curled up in a fetal position. Chloe knew that something bizarre was happening, but she couldn't deny the warm, fuzzy feeling that sprouted within her heart, and she quietly decided to keep the incident to herself.
A few days later, Beca and Chloe were hanging out with the Bellas by the pool, soaking up the sun and chatting about upcoming auditions for a new music competition. Beca was feeling unsettled, and she couldn't explain why. She wanted to be outside and play, but she also wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep. The latter urge won out, and Beca sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes in fatigue.
Suddenly, Chloe had an idea. She walked over to Beca and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers in invitation. "C'mon, Becs, let's go take a nap," Chloe said, her voice turning soft and gentle. Beca immediately felt her heart swell in happiness, and she took Chloe's hand, following her lead like a lost puppy.
They went back to their dorm room, which Chloe had decorated with twinkle lights and stuffed animals, giving it a cozy, comforting vibe. Chloe told Beca to get into bed, and she pulled the blankets up over her friend's body, tucking her in like she was a child. Beca felt a thrill of pleasure rush through her body, and she snuggled into the pillows, feeling safe and secure in Chloe's care.
Then, Chloe did something unexpected - she pulled down the shades of the room, creating a peaceful, dim atmosphere. She turned on a white noise machine that mimicked the sound of raindrops, and she began to sing another lullaby, holding Beca's hand and stroking her hair. Beca felt her eyes droop, and she let out a little yawn, feeling the strong urge to regress into a younger state.
Chloe noticed the change in her friend and smiled to herself, realizing that this was what Beca needed. She continued to sing softly, watching as Beca's breathing became steady and even, and she drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber. Chloe stayed by her friend's side, watching over her like a guardian angel, feeling like she had found a new purpose in life.
When Beca woke up a few hours later, she didn't remember much of what had occurred, but she felt refreshed and rejuvenated, like she had been given a special kind of love that she had never experienced before. Chloe silently watched her friend, feeling a sense of pride and admiration wash over her. She knew that whatever this was, it was real and magical, and it was something that she and Beca would share for the rest of their lives.
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ghostlywhiskey · 7 months
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Relationships weren't supposed to be effortless. You knew this. Yet, you couldn't help but wonder if they were supposed to be this tough for you.
John had been home for a few weeks now, relearning the routines of normal life. You adored having him back, but there was a slight change.
You found a job, working a 9-5 downtown. Something had to keep you occupied while he was gone, so you got a job. It was a stable one, a decent boss, friendly Co-workers, nothing extraordinary. Lately, the workload has been increasing, accumulating to the point where it was stressing you out.
John noticed you would arrive home grumpy and frustrated, with pronounced eye bags and a subtle scowl. Whenever he asked how your day had been, you’d answer simply,” Fine. Nothing much.”
It had gotten to the point where you would shut yourself in the bedroom of your apartment and work for hours on end, desperately attempting to free yourself of the tasks weighing you down. John knew this wasn't like you.
It became a dull pattern, you’d leave to work early in the morning, then return as quietly as you left. You hardly spoke to him anymore.
One day you were on the brink of a breakdown, nothing was working and everything was on your shoulders. You went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, hopefully, it would rejuvenate some of your liveliness. John was in the kitchen doing the dishes, eyeing you with worry.
“That’s your sixth cup today sweetheart, perhaps tone it down a notch?”
“Mhm.”
You continued to make the cup of coffee, and John was plagued with apprehension. He took off his gloves and stepped towards you, stony eyes staring you down. He takes the coffee mug from your hands, draining it in the sink. You were confused and irritated.
“What the fuck was that for?”
He puts his hands on his hips and speaks, his voice full of authority, yet laced with concern. “Tone it down. We‘re going to have a civilized conversation, as adults. No more cold shoulders, no more shutting yourself in the bedroom, and particularly no more coffee for today.”, with a sigh, John comes near and traces your face with his hand, his thumb running across your jaw as he whispers,” Talk to me. Please. I’ll listen, I just need you to let me in, bunny. I can't help if you do everything on yer own. Understand?”
His touch was tender, filled with sentiment that you hadn't been able to notice for a while. You did have a habit of isolating yourself when things got bad, as a safety measure so the people you love didn’t get hurt. And ironically, the man in front of you was willing to pay attention to you and support you through it all. Instead of using his time to relax or connect with old friends, he would rather stay with you. If that didn’t define the word “loyal” then nothing did.
-🤎
why??? is ??? this ??? so??? specific??? I LITERALLY FEEL SEEN. BECAUSE THIS IS ME.
i might cry. TRULY. i need john price. i need this man.
u literally hit it right on the nail everytime I CANT<333
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Text
Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 13
Original Title: 论救错反派的下场
Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 13 - Falling into Evil
"It's the marks left by acupuncture." Seeing that he misunderstood that he was injured, Song Qingshi hurriedly explained, "It's not from insect bites. I have delicate skin. When needles are inserted, they cause slight subcutaneous bleeding and often leave marks. Don't worry, it's painless. They'll go away in a few days."
Yue Wuhuan took a close look at those marks, then slowly loosened his head, bowed his head and said, "Master tested the needles for me and injured himself, but I was rude. . ."
"How can you study medicine without sticking needles into your own body?" Song Qingshi said indifferently. "In the future, you will have to prick yourself when you practice acupuncture. If necessary, you can use me as a practice dummy, before. . ." When he said this, he suddenly remembered some funny things. The first step in learning acupuncture is to prick yourself, and then prick each other. After you get used to it, using acupuncture for acne, weight loss, stomach discomfort, a cold, and before a final exam would all become the norm. He also learned a lot from his senior sister. For example, when he fell asleep while studying, he would stick a needle into the top of his scalp and it would instantly refresh the mind.
When the original body learned acupuncture, he first pricked himself with the needles, mainly to determine the feeling of the needles.
It was the first time he tried this acupuncture method, and he had to practice it on himself before he dared to do it to others.
Yue Wuhuan turned around sullenly as if he was not very happy about his injuries.
The shou protagonist is really a kind little angel.
Song Qingshi sighed internally after a while. He was afraid that he would mess things up again. He spent a lot of time talking about medical theory while giving needles and finally turned the beauty into a beautiful hedgehog. After determining each acupuncture point, he injected spiritual power to bring the local anesthesia to the minimum, and then took out the medicinal jar for the medicinal bath. He put the ingredients in the Six Meridian Rejuvenation Medicated Bath and adjusted the temperature skillfully so that Yue Wuhuan could enter.
This time, Yue Wuhuan groaned not long after entering the medicated bath.
The domineering medicine penetrated into all his meridians, rushing wildly. It felt like his body was being turned inside out.
Yue Wuhuan finally understood what Song Qingshi meant when he said it was painful. Even though acupuncture had reduced the pain a lot, he still held on to the rim of the bath in pain, his face turned red and his forehead covered in a cold sweat.
"The pain can't be completely eliminated," Song Qingshi injected his spiritual thoughts into his body to continuously monitor the situation, explaining, "There are many meridians in the human body, and after the medicine is injected, it's like a river rushing into a bank. You need to feel the pain of each blocked meridian being flushed open before I can determine if it has been completely opened. . . If it hurts, you can scream, as long as you persist for half an hour."
"Master doesn't need to worry," Yue Wuhuan panted, "You've already done so much for me, I can bear it."
After the clogged meridians were forcibly flushed open, the medicine could pass through unimpeded, and the pain was instantly relieved.
Song Qing Shi then took out the corresponding golden needles.
As more and more meridians were cleared, the pain became lighter and lighter.
Before taking the last needle out of his scalp, Song Qingshi took out a pill and ordered Yue Wuhuan: "Open your mouth."
Yue Wuhuan was in so much pain that his mind went blank. He opened his mouth obediently, only to find that Song Qingshi had stuffed a hot pill in. His cold fingertips accidentally touched his lips, and he subconsciously chased after them, licking the comforting coolness with his tongue, wanting to take it in his mouth and never let it go again.
The hot pill melted in his mouth and slipped into his stomach. Suddenly, an explosion-like pain came from his spiritual core, stirring up his internal organs.
He couldn't bear it anymore and let out a miserable scream. He grabbed at the person near him with all his strength and then fell down helplessly.
Song Qingshi took him into his arms, patted his back, and coaxed him softly: "This is the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pil. It'll work quickly, just hold on."
The Six Meridian Rejuvenation medicated bath opens up the meridians, and the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill regenerates the spiritual core. Song Qingshi determined from research materials and experiments that the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill could not alleviate the pain when taken, but the pain was short-lived. So he didn't explain it at the beginning, so as not to increase the psychological burden of the patient. Just like an injection, a quick fix was enough.
Yue Wuhuan's lips were already bleeding from being bitten. He couldn't hold on anymore, and finally let out a low growl like a wounded beast, hugging the person in his arms tightly, as if he wanted to be merged into his flesh and blood, and become one.
If it weren't for the high cultivation level of a Nascent Soul cultivator, his bones would have been shattered.
     Song Qingshi couldn't move. He was afraid that he would bite his lips in pain, so he suggested: "If you are in pain, you can bite something else. I'll give you a towel. . ."
Before he finished speaking, Yue Wuhuan ruthlessly bit down on the eyesore that was the dark red mark on his neck with such force that he almost wanted to bite off this piece of meat and swallow it into his stomach.
Song Qingshi knew that he had lost his mind, and was afraid of him hurting his teeth, so he immediately withdrew all his protective spiritual power, and didn't dare resist his poisonous power. The bite was so deep, there were bloodstains, and he was in so much pain that he almost burst into tears. He didn't dare cry out so others wouldn't worry, so he could only pretend that it didn't hurt, and gasped desperately.
He let him bite him, kneeling and pushing through it.
Song Qingshi persevered with tears in his eyes. . .
After about fifteen minutes, the pain in his spiritual core slowly disappeared, and tiny spiritual power slowly emerged, just like a tree that had withered for many years sprouting new shoots under the nourishment of the spring rain. Everything sprouted vibrantly and is body became comfortable and cozy. Yue Wuhuan's energy finally ran out. He loosened his jaw, lightly licked the blood from his bite, and slowly collapsed into a deep coma.
. . .
When Yue Wuhuan woke up, it was already dark.
He moved his body, and the spiritual power that had withered for many years began to circulate smoothly. His aptitude was much stronger than when he first entered the immortal world.
Suddenly, he realized there was someone next to him. He slowly turned his head to look and found that his hands were tightly holding onto Song Qingshi's sleeves. His fingers were stiff and numb from grasping for too long, and it took a lot of effort to untie them.
Song Qingshi was sleeping soundly next to him.
He originally wanted to wait for Yue Wuhuan to wake up and explain the treatment process, but he was so tired during this time that he fell asleep while waiting.
Yue Wuhuan stared blankly at this unsuspecting sleeping face, and there were many ripples in his heart that he didn't know what was going on. The seeds of desire were taking root and sprouting, and crazy emotions were boiling in his mind.
He quietly stretched out his hand and picked up a strand of soft and fine long hair. He put it on the tip of his nose, sniffing greedily the lingering medicinal fragrance then kissing it lightly.
The bite marks on his neck also gave him an indescribable sense of satisfaction, as if he had branded this person with his own mark.
Obviously, his body had been freed from the control of drugs, but he still had an unstoppable desire for the person in front of him.
Such a good person, but he wants his body, wants to get his soul, wants to see him fall into the sea of lust and be controlled.
What a despicable thought. . .
"Wuhuan, you are a demon born for desire."
Perhaps, this statement is right.
He has already degenerated into a demon, unworthy of being with purity.
Song Qingshi has done too much for him and his kindness was as heavy as a mountain. There was no way to repay him.
He knew he shouldn't, but he just can't bear to let go.
At least, he should stay away from him, hide his tail, don't show his true face, don't let evil thoughts dirty him. . .
Yue Wuhuan made up his mind, took a final breath, and reluctantly let go of the long hair in his hand.
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memorymessage · 1 month
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re: leaving instagram
i've noticed the subtleties in the transactional interactions on instagram.
if i'm not actively posting bodychecks, people start to forget my existence. even people i thought were genuinely reaching out to me to become friends—they seem to only want to talk to me if i've been posting photos of my body. they only like the stories that are of my body.
(not everybody. you know who you guys are, and i appreciate you endlessly.)
i'm not naïve or foolish—this is what i signed up for. this is what i get for: A: engaging with an app that is personal-photo-based in the first place, and B: fostering a mutual community of people with eating disorders.
i made my bed, now lie in it; i reap what i sow; i dug my own grave, etc, etc.
when i first made the account, i was rabid about posting photos every day. i had been private online for so long that i felt like i was breaking open a dam. i grew up on myspace. i had a camera in my own face every single day. but, after i transitioned as masc years later, i became ashamed of my feminine features. i only posted photos where i passed as masc well enough, which took great effort, make up, and some costume tricks (yes...i may have cut up hair extensions and made myself a beard). and, even then, i would get nervous about posting any photos at all—deathly afraid of my femininity.
there were a few instances where i would create fake social media accounts, give myself a fake name, and post pictures of myself dolled up as femme to the nines. an outlet to release the feminine side of myself without fear, but keeping the entity as far away from the "real" me as possible. but, even that was fake and untrue to myself—wearing makeup i never wore. wearing extensions that were shoved away, tangled, in a box.
i haven't been honestly myself in online spaces in many, many years.
this instagram account was the first time i truly let myself be... me.
but the novelty of posting pictures every day wore on me. i do still have an ed and bdd, after all.
especially when i reached my lowest weight of all time spring of last year. i felt like every picture i posted should be "perfect". the smaller i became, the more i scrutinized myself. looking even the slightest bit too large in any given angle was unacceptable.
the attention i got during that time was also at its peak.
and my mentality from that time regarding photos of myself never recovered.
my weight went up. it became harder and harder for me to want to take pictures. even when i would force myself to take pictures, it became harder to pick one i even wanted to post. not to mention, chronic illness has absolutely debilitated me the past year. most days, i am in bed, in pajamas, in no state (mind and body) to take photos.
and people started talking to me less and less, liking my posts less and less, viewing my stories less and less. the only time people would remember i existed is when i posted an acceptable bodycheck. then i would get a short-lived spike in people liking me again. only to die down until i posted my next check.
people weren't interested in my text posts, or the videos i would share. to put it plainly—people are not interested in me as a person.
why does this matter?
two reasons: it reinforces my bdd-based belief that i am only worth anything if i am thin and pretty. and... i was on myspace trying to be the next audrey kitching scene queen at age 10, meaning attention from others validating my very existence was interwoven into my young, developing brain. and there it yet remains.
and it's not just about other people. taking a good photo of myself gives me sense of pride and rejuvenation so immense that i'll never be able to explain. i assume that feeling also took root from the myspace scene queen days. a new pfp was everything back then, after all. i guess my brain still thinks it is.
my instagram account did not start like this. it used to be a small, casual little place where i would upload daily snaps. and it's sad this is where it has ended.
my insecure little delusions raveled up in themselves, tangling my body and leaving me motionless in fear of judgment. paralyzed.
in short: we're not having fun anymore, and i need to do myself a service and take responsibility for that.
i need to leave.
(for now.)
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ichinoue · 2 years
Note
Was Orihime jealous of Rukia over Ichigo romantically, like she thought something was going on between them, or only their close bond, like Ichigo cares more about Rukia than her? To this day I’m still confused about those two scenes in manga. It’s never brought up again, Orihime never sees Rukia as competition again, it’s weird. After the HM arc, do you think she realized Ichigo cared for her? And do you think she was still jealous/insecure about Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship?
The jealousy that Orihime expresses is due to the fact that she saw how Rukia got Ichigo out of his depressive funk (when she showed up in the arrancar arc after Ichigo failed against Yammy and Ulquiorra) and she says she feels "useless" because she doesn't think that she could ever have such an impact on Ichigo. However, she expresses these feelings during her own personal low point in the manga when she's shown to be perceiving things incorrectly due to her low self-esteem and feelings of inadequacy (because she feels she didn't contribute enough during the SS arc). These feelings of inadequacy are of course proven wrong when she manages to get Ichigo out of a huge funk during the Grimmjow battle, as she calls out to him and completely rejuvenates him, and after the low she hits in the lust arc, she develops into a more resilient character with the time-skip and we never see these feelings of insecurity or jealousy towards Rukia again. Because they only existed in her mind, at a time when she was perceiving things incorrectly, and she realized she had no reason to feel that way in the first place.
That's the TLDR of it. I went into more detail in this post however, which I'll just copy and paste here lol:
The problem with this argument is that people ignore the context surrounding Orihime’s jealousy, which is the depression she was experiencing during the arrancar arc. She was feeling useless, insecure, and left behind. She didn’t think she contributed enough in SS, and then she failed to protect Tatsuki and Chad, and felt helpless when she saw how despondent Ichigo became when he was unable to protect his friends against the espada.
And so, her feelings of inadequacy/jealousy towards Rukia were not the only thing she was feeling self-conscious about (if it was, this argument might have more of a leg to stand on). Instead, it was just one thing on a long list of things she was feeling insecure about at the time.
It’s important to remember that she was in a dark place mentally at this point, feeling inadequate and worthless in virtually every aspect of her life—making all of her self-perceived shortcomings seem magnified, to the point that she starts hyper-focusing on things that *gasp* aren’t actually there, or anywhere near as bad as they may seem to her.
Because Orihime being useless isn’t a fact. Her not being able to measure up to Rukia isn’t a fact. All of these things don’t exist as actual concrete truths in the manga; they existed only in her mind. They are insecurities she has made up in her head.
How do we know this? Because Kubo immediately reassures her/the reader that she has no reason to feel the way she does every. single. time. she expresses these feelings of inadequacy aloud. When she worries that she can’t contribute enough and only ever gets in the way, Rukia refutes that and reassures Orihime. When she expresses jealousy towards Rukia, Rangiku refutes that and reassures Orihime. (Honestly it’s funny that people even try to use her jealousy as proof of an IR romance when it’s immediately followed up with Rangiku saying, “silly girl, you have no reason to feel this way.” Like Kubo made sure to shut that shit down, before Orihime could even finish getting the words out.)
She’s never told to “accept” that she’s worthless or can’t measure up to Rukia. She’s never told to accept any of it. Because she doesn’t have to accept it. There’s nothing actually there for her to accept. These things exist only in her mind.
Clearly, Kubo was not trying to tell the reader, “yeah, Orihime’s right, she really is fuckin’ useless lmao” (hilarious that that actually is how IR’s interpreted the scene though lol). This is basic storytelling. On more than one occasion, he set up how Orihime’s lack of self-worth is affecting the way she’s perceiving things, and then speaks through his characters as the voice of reason to tell her that what she is perceiving is all in her head and not actually true. 
Meaning if she’s perceiving an IR romance, or feels she could never do for Ichigo what Rukia did? It isn’t actually true. It was all in her head, at a time when she was shown to be perceiving a lot of things incorrectly. 
To hammer this point home even further, the reason Orihime gives for expressing jealousy of Rukia is that Rukia was able to get Ichigo out of his funk, and Orihime thinks to herself, “I could never do that, I am useless.”
……And yet, at one of the high-points of the HM arc, she does just that?? She gets Ichigo out of his funk—and not just any funk, but an “I feel so defeated I’ve practically given up the fight and am about to die” funk. She calls out to him during the Grimmjow battle and completely restores and rejuvenates him, all with a few gentle words and tears, wearing her heart on her sleeve for him, standing up on a pillar like a shining beacon of hope, while Ichigo looks back at her in complete awe….THAT'S the kind of effect she has on him.
I mean, just think about that. Back in 199, she was sitting there crying on the floor, feeling useless and thinking she would never be able to lift Ichigo’s spirits or have an effect on him in any way…..and then she goes and does THAT!!! Completely proves all of her insecurities wrong with that powerful calling out moment at the height of the Grimmjow battle. And it's arguably the greatest moment of someone getting Ichigo out of a funk, because he wasn't just feeling down in the dumps--he was literally about to be killed. And Orihime still brought him out of it.
Again, it’s not surprising for Orihime to feel the way she did back in 199 given the context of the arc—it was her personal growth arc. It wasn’t about ichiruki—it was about her. Her feelings of jealousy do not persist past this arc, because they were not meant to serve as some testament of an ichiruki romance. They were a testament of how negatively Orihime was feeling about herself at the time. Kubo did not write her jealousy to prove that Orihime really is useless and could never measure up to Rukia in Ichigo’s eyes; he wrote it as a stepping stone for her development, to show how she was once at a low point and developed to a better place over time, realized her own worth and grew to be more confident.
And after that, we never see Orihime’s jealousy towards Rukia make another appearance. Not once. 
If it were true that Orihime was insignificant compared to Rukia in Ichigo’s eyes, or that her jealousy proved that IR was romantic, then those feelings of insecurity/jealousy wouldn’t have gone away, but they did. 
Thus, one of the biggest “proofs” IR’s used in support of an IR romance was rendered totally moot, tossed away in the same arc it was introduced, never to be seen or heard from again. Because there wasn’t actually anything there to be jealous of in the first place.
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xydamcg · 1 year
Text
Prisoner of 141
Ghost x f character!
Cw: memories of trauma, torture, blood, details for gore, desensitization, fight or flight
Summary: Tatali has to settle in, it will take some time for her to get used to such treatment from the members of 141.
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The shower was rejuvenating, she was no longer caked in dirt or dried blood. She smelled like strawberries and cinnamon, not the best combo but she wasn’t complaining anything was better than her state before. Tatali had cut her hair that had grown far too much for her liking. She was use to keeping it short so that’s how she cut it keeping the length right below her ears, it was dark brown in the right light but seemed even darker by under the fluorescent lights of the base. Kate waited patiently, the two hour shower barely seemed to bother her as she scrolled through her work email. Tatali got dressed in some of the clothing in the locker for her. She dressed in simple pair of cargo pants, long socks, boots that she cuffed her pants above, a black large hoodie that was obvious a man’s, and a black tactical vest with numerous of empty pockets.
Tatali quietly moved toward Kate not wanting to make her wait any longer, Kate looked up slightly before doing a double take at the younger woman before her. Kaye seemed surprised by how much different Tatali looked without the dirt covering her face, hiding most of her features. “All set?” Kate asked standing with a small smile. “Yes.” Tatali confirmed with a subtle nod, Kate once again guiding her through the unfamiliar halls of the base, many people passing eying her curiously. “Today since we don’t want to overbear you with so much at once we’re going to let you settle in and get ready for a long day tomorrow.” Kate instructed from in front of her, Tatali barely paying attention as she took in every detail of each hall they moved through so she didn’t get lost when and if she was ever on her own. After some walking they reached what seemed to be a common room before dorms down a hall. “Most of 141 stay here in this section of the base Soap, Gaz, Ghost and so on. This if your room 548 same as your locker back in the locker room, fridge doesn’t have much but it’s fresh.” Kate informed, Tatali zoning in on the information that was being fed to her. Kate was really nice, much nice than anyone else she came across in this field. “Soap and Gaz should be on their way, I have to go but if you need anything there’s a phone in your room you can call me.” Kate explained before peeking at her watch, on cue Soap and Gaz came shuffling through the double doors. “Nice to see you boys, I gotta run. Make sure she eats something.” Kate ordered pointing between the two who saluted stupidly making Kate laugh before heading off.
Tatali’s eyes wondered the hall around them, the warm lights in the section of the base was almost comforting? “Wanna head to your room?” Soap spoke up, her eyes snapping to her left to look at him. Tatali pursed her lips before nodding, swiveling on her heel and counting the doors as she went finding her room furthest from the main double doors. The door was unlocked as she made her way into the big space of the room. It wasn’t too big, but it was bigger than the cell that held her only hours ago. She took in the space..a small kitchen, the phone Kate mentioned earlier, a mini livingroom, a bed and most importantly a window. Tatali was so tired of the dark and the cold, at least as a prisoner here she would be treated with some actual normality rather than a wild animal like with the Hutu.
The Hutu were an army of woman who had the idea that taking down corrupted business in South Africa was what would benefit the economy which it did in the beginning but power changes peoples perceptions and twists their minds. So the woman that were fighting to pave a way for their people became the one who needed to be pushed out of power. Tatali was raised by the Hutu since she was 12, Kate said she was 26 now? Tatali had been trained to kill since age 12, was initiated into a ‘squadron’ at 13, followed every order—excelled further than most until age 24 before she spent another 2 imprisoned by a different group who called themselves the Red eyes. The red eyes she knew nothing about only that they were rivals of the Hutu and they had managed to capture their best solider. Two years of torture, no contact with the outside word or her people, none of it felt real. It all felt like a foggy memory or fading nightmare, she hadn’t come to terms with anything that had happened to her while she was captured with The Red Eyes. Her body dealt with the trauma by simply storing any type of emotion other than fighting deep into her mind. She had been running on fight or flight for quite some time now.
Even now— the loud clatter of dishes pulled her from her thoughts that left her froze in the middle of the room. Her hand subconsciously moved to the empty holster on her vest before her head lurched in the direction of the noise. “Sorry sorry.” Soap mumbled from the kitchen, Gaz watching her closely his own hand on his weapon out of reaction to her reaching for noticeably nothing now. Tatali slowly lowered her hand before turning it over to show Gaz she wasn’t a threat. She repeated the action with the other since Gaz seemingly wasn’t convinced. Gaz relaxed slightly his hand moving to his chest to rest along the lining of his vest. Tatali moved into the kitchen eyeing Soap, did he know what he was doing? “What are you trying to make?” Tatali asked, her voice was quiet and raspy almost robotic as it seemed to hold no actual emotion. Soap showed her the pack of meat and vegetables before he looked over at her. “Stir fry, ever had it?” He asked her softly as he oiled the pan. “No, not that I could remember.” She retorted leaning back against the counter to watch him. “Lucky for you I make the best stir fry out here.” Soap gushed making Gaz scoff. “Yeah lucky for us, nearly burns down the kitchen every time trying to make anything else.” Gaz quirked teasingly making Soap groan. “It was that one time!” Tatali watched as the two began to bicker her mind drifting again, the pair becoming background noise as she was swallowed by dark thoughts.
“Tell us where to find Fyti and we might just let you go.” The guard growled as she stared at him, her eyes void as blood dripped from the wound in her leg. The handle of the knife still protruded from her thigh, it had just missed the femur bone which meant they made a huge mistake. She could still move, and if she could still move—she could still kill them. “Still not gonna answer eh?” He questioned earning silence from the woman who watched his every move. Tatali was calculating his next move before he even made it, most of the guards were predictable leaving all possibilities closed but one. The other guard who stood near the door was nervous and she only knew that because he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other and his hands fidgeted with the key ring on his belt every so often. “Maybe i can carve it out of you..” he stated approaching with another knife. Tatali slowly planted her feet as he drew closer preparing herself to slaughter him.
Her eyes dropped to his legs, watching as he stalked closer and closer. “Eyes up here girl.” The male sneered grabbing her chin roughly forcing her to look up at him. Tatali felt her eyes reach his own and she smirked. “Amused are ya?” He asked making her smirk fall instantly. “Yes amused because I’m going to kill you.” She finally announced before peeking around the man before her to the guard by the door. “Even you.” Before anyone else could get a word out, she pulled her hands through the shackles the sweat and blood being a good lubricant for her release. Tatali let out a scream as she pulled the knife from her leg and drove it into the guard’s knee and twisting a satisfying pop and him shouting in pain filled the room. Tatali leaned forward in her chair driving her shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him back enough to get the space she needed to take the knife from his hand and bury it into the soft flesh behind his chin. "Hold that for me." She snickered as his body dropped to the ground. Tatali pushed to her full height of 5'8 as she watched the man at her feet bleed out. She nearly forgot her audience until she heard the soft click of his gun loading a bullet into the chamber, her eyes narrowed at the trembling guard. He was young, almost too young for her to feel morally okay about killing him.
"If you lower the weapon i won't kill you. You can turn around and-" a shot rang out, Tatali managing to move out the path of it with ease. She took shelter behind the hefty cart of torture devices as the boy released his whole clip stupidly into the side of it. "I really didn't want to do this." She told him as she heard him fumbling with the keys to the door. Tatali rose from behind the cart, her mind filled with a new found anger at him trying to run away after trying to kill her. Coward. She took hold of the cart before ramming it into the back of his legs pinning him to the door, her hand selecting a pair of scissors. "Please no, don't!" He screamed as she drew closer to his crumpled form. "Next time, you better kill me." She concluded before driving the pair of scissors into his eye socket, his screams ceasing immediately.
"Tatali! Hey! Can you hear me?"
Her auburn pupils dilated before constricting again as Soap brought her back to reality. "What?" She asked looking at him, concern written in his features as Gaz watched from his place behind him. "You've been staring at the same spot for almost fifteen minutes now. Are you alright?" Soap asked making her shift under his hand, he carefully pulled back. "I'm fine." She confirmed catching his eyes again, he decided to let it go before holding out a bowl of piping rice and stir fry. "Thank you." she said taking the bowl before taking a seat across the room near the window, Gaz and Soap watching her for a moment before sharing a look.
The food smelled good, almost too good. She looked over at Soap and Gaz who were sitting together at the island chatting, their mouths full of food and funny spoken words. Tatali slowed raised the fork to her mouth before taking a bite, it was her first full hot meal in years. It tasted like- she couldn't quite describe it. Too many flavors to pin point, not enough time to think as she became overloaded with just taste alone. Soap did make a really good stir fry.
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revenseventyr · 1 year
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The Luncheon on the Grass / Frokost i det grønne
by Astrid Hjertenæs Andersen translated by revenseventyr —
The man who drove his horses before the plough stood with wide-open nostrils. Haunted by present and proximity, he felt mould under the soles of his feet. Struck by the unforeseen he perceived the spicy fragrance of the ferns. It was that summer the day turned to day at the day’s every hour. Rejuvenated by the play of the birds, the ancient and greying fruit trees became surrounded by the sundial’s shadow and the unusual twists and turns of human thought. Although the women had decided to do the things they usually did there lay a heavy-light blue melody of change in the air. She who sat bound to the front steps in the sunshine outside the house reddened and felt suddenly naked with gooseberry-scissors in her hand. Her thoughts went astray without discernible reason or cause. (What do we know of the sign’s manifestation? Stanzas with the wind or the fields’ nightshade balm.) But she who stands linked to the well with the well-rope in her hands sees in her well-mirror a white-mildewed summer cloud chase past. Her grip loosens. The wooden bucket bumps into the depths. She throws back her head as she sings an unfettered chanson about her summer’s flaming rose-spray. The man in the vineyard lifts his head. He stands with a gold thread in his hand. In the middle of his life in his vineyard of blackening blackcurrants and red-ripe redcurrants. He swings the thread. He searches the grass. He listens to the air as if he wishes someone wished to call his name from afar. But there is no call. There is singing. In the hand that grips. In the grass. Underfoot. For it is that summer when nothing is comfort or regret and griping or sighing but the living presence of blue air green grass and invisible attractions. That day the meal was prepared. The bread and the salt. The fruit and the wine.
— Hjertenæs Andersen wrote this poem as a response to Edouard Manet's painting The Luncheon on the Grass. Original Norwegian text can be read here.
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khushi1902 · 1 year
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First Week into Co-Op
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Was excited for the fit..
And absolutely loved it with the ID and WestJet tie.
The First Day, 11 January was my training day. It was all about introduction to the GSA and GSLs and then we went for an awesome airport tour. Learned various spots at terminal 3 and till the tour lasted, I was dying to sit and relax because I had my heels and it was giving me tremendous pain. Anyway, got a break and rejuvenated and went for our spot to experience what it will be like working at kiosks, helped several passengers, and then it was time for our learning through ppts, and ended the day perfectly with lot of enthusiasm.
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All set for placement day 1, I was excited and felt like a WestJetter. It was new and exciting to help passengers at kiosks. The position was changing me to be a helpful person and I absolutely loved the feeling to assist when someone struggles to get their boarding pass or bag tags at kiosks.
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By the time, I learned several things and the most fun thing is directing passengers when asking about airline counters other than WestJet. I also got to know about the issue of accepting bags from connecting flights at baggage drop-off. It was because the boarding pass was from a different airline and the machines won't accept those so we would drop it at the other side. Eventually, it became my favorite part during the whole shift, as this was the time I am properly doing all the things on my own which was checking destination, ETD and flight no. to direct them to their gates.
I explained this procedure to two of my classmates in my last shift.
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Overall, loving the journey of being a WestJetter, and also I learned the basics of printing boarding passes and adding baggage and baggage tags at check-in counters. I usually observe this when it is not busy at the kiosks. The process seems interesting as I had a course where we use to book flights and add the services at Amadeus and it was my favorite course.
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