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#but i never really had any compulsions
liquidstar · 22 days
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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peapod20001 · 7 months
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I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3
#random post#me tag ∠( ᐛ 」 ) |/#I’m not an overly emotional person in the stereotypical way. but I do get in my feels when thinking about life and the experience of living#I’m like. constantly explaining things to myself cus there’s never really a time or place to talk about it#also my method of explaining things is very not coherent sometimes. so it takes me a bit to really get my point across in a comprehensible#way. I’m a big thinker. I have many thoughts and ideas a views. a daily thing of mine is noticing problems#and then fixing them in my head with thought out explanations and motives and outcomes#it’s like I’m talking to someone else. much like how I format my text posts. that’s how my inner monologue is#me talking to myself is actually me talking to someone else. someone that isn’t real#anyways it’s a daily occurrence. every day of my life is spent with thoughts similar to those breaking down a movie#lots of thoughts from adhd. compulsive thoughts from ocd. overwhelming thoughts from autism. distressing thoughts from bpd#ya. this isn’t a vent I just need to like. see the thoughts in writing so I can do smth else. like eat this muffin ive been staring at for#over an hour now <3 mmmbfbg yea muffins are hard to eat now cus I had some with mold and food mold especially is a big nono for me#spend like. five minutes examining the damn thing before I even consider taking a bite. I’m very hungry an thirsty </3#when your mouth is so dry you can taste your own mouth 👍 I’m experiencing#nothing in particular. just experiencing. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like having an experience and living#drank my tea and I had like. hallucinations of like an alcohol prep pad. I’ve been using those in my ear cus. tmi. had a pimple that’s#causing problems so mom suggested that. it burned! which means it worked so word. I’ve noticed lately that both me AND my family have been#using ‘word’ a lot. dad says we’ve been saying it but no we haven’t. if we had I’d have BEEN saying it. maybe we’ve used it before for a bit#but now it’s back. idk. I’ve said it in class on more than one occasion lmao I don’t look like the type to say smth like that but whatever#it’s like when I used to say bro after every sentence like 10 years ago lol. we’re a family of parrots we repeat eachother a lot#I started saying I love you out of no where and they started doing it too. we whistle at eachother from across the house. sing ear worms#together. quote funny things at every opportunity and drive the joke into the ground. everyone in this house is a different kind of mentally#I’ll and it’s the most beautiful clash of personalities because we’re all so annoying and we love eachother so much and also our#communication is shit because some ppl have hearing loss and another is a short fused child and some are quick to interrupt and some dont#get a word in and some just can’t explain and some can’t understand. we get there eventually at some point. we don’t get the full grasp of#how much we love eachother yet. but we’re gettin there. anyways this went into several different directions but they’re all good ones#I think. if you read all this good on you! this is my brain 24/7/365 haha ok love you
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re: what fandom 'a little life' came from, my immediate knee-jerk thought was "backstreet boys." i have absolutely no basis for this other than Terminally Online Brain Worms esp bc..........there are 5 of those boyband fellas and as far as i remember only 4 main characters in that book lmfao. what can i say. the boyband angle feel right
yeah i'll incorporate that into my belief system
#fandom life#total speculation!!!!!! but i love it!#a little life#Ok but fr i think the time period of peak bsb rpf fits HY's age group#Also the (initial) thing of we are a group of successful handsome men all just kind of hanging out .. is very boyband au rpf ..#the nebulousness of the setting (in time period etc) is very fanfictiony to me the thing of everyone being successful in different fields#very fanfictiony#And one of them has a horribly traumatic backstory... classic fanfic trope! tho taken to extremes here. who here remembers#the 'rape recovery' fanfic trope. HY said what if that.. but no recovery . which sure is a valid artistic choice a valid question.#what if someone DIDNT get better. but full disclosure i could NOT finish this book i really felt i had to stop for my own safety .#as if people don't not get better all the time u know??? and as that one reviewer said . WHO in the world of this book#WOULDNT become a crystal meth addict. etc. there's no legit way out and that's a total authorial construction.#anyway i do actually think she's a skilled writer but i did not feel the compulsion to finish this book that so many ppl have felt#built different i guess. just walk out!#if you're a normie who never read any absurdly ott h/c fanfiction i guess it hit different tho!#mangoamango#asks#i welcome furhter speculation.... i always thought it was possible it was some band i'd never heard of or some 90s manga i never read#I did manage to read her first book 'the people in the trees' and yes i would describe it as 'good'#but it's like . imagine an ursula le guin book but evil
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meme-loving-stuck · 1 year
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the hardest part about having an addictive personality is like. you KNOW you can try to discipline yourself or just keep facing the consequences of the bad thing until you finally steel yourself and say 'no. no more bad thing. because it makes me feel bad'
like you KNOW youre capable of doing it. everyone is. and youve done it... maybe once? twice?
but for you, that resolve to finally stop and recover is locked behind a door that everyone SWEARS has a key and you just need to discipline yourself to find it. but you have disciplined yourself and you have tried everything and your fucking door doesnt have a key. it just doesnt. so you can hardly remember a time when you got to just... say no. and unlock the door
and you know that at SOME rare points in your life you have had something so catastrophically bad happen related to the addiction (usually involving hospitalization or something equally serious) that you broke the fucking locked door down and finally stopped. so you know it CAN be open and you CAN see the other side of that door.
it's just way fucking harder when the key to yours doesnt exist.
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leadendeath · 5 months
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mental health problems and art rant who giv a shit
i've done toony styles before throughout my long time in doing art, and i really want to continue drawing toony styles now.
i feel like i have to strive to make my art look as good as possible, but that's a sisyphean task. i haven't been having fun with art, it's a chore.
i feel like it shows i've been trying too hard. with furry side of things, i've been trying to learn to draw lots of different species- all which takes time. and different body types- which takes time, too- mainly muscle, which is really hard to make it look right, and i think you need to actually learn in-depth anatomy and study equally in-depth diagrams n stuff to really succeed. sucks when you can't draw something you like ://
i've been trying to get better at all these things for 2-3 years, and i haven't seen progress. it's not exactly encouraging.
but when i stop trying with those things? it's like a relief. maybe in more time i'll find a balance between what i call "technical" (meaning muscle, basically) and "toony".
am i being lazy? probably. i can't help but feel like i am. but i'm actually having a good time now. so i don't know if i care :)
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?
It Sounds Nice coming from You.
Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader
“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
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kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)
People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.
But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.
The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.
You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.
There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.
So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.
���
Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.
Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.
Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.
The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.
The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.
He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.
Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.
Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.
It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.
“She’s silent, ain’t she?”
“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”
“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”
“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”
The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.
“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“
“Cut it, mate.”
He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.
“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”
“Jesus..”
He felt rather accomplished that day.
It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.
Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.
Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.
He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.
immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(
I’m patient 🦑
u werent 2 seconds ago
I don’t subscribe to consistency.
Or this slandering talk
ur consistently lame
also why squid
I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute
hes not real
Don’t do this me
reeeeeal tasty tho
What is wrong with you.
numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)
Inhumane.
mmmmmm yummyyyy
He can’t die, he’s immortal
The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.
“Hey, Hobie!”
Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.
He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.
“Pav, my guy!”
Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.
“What’chu doing up there?”
His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.
Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”
Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.
“Textin’ [Name].”
Just then, the next message from you showed.
immortal ??? how consistent of him to live
He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.
He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything
ihu
terrivle joke
No, you don’t
And it was great
wtvr >:P
Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.
“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.
“They do argue very often.”
“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”
Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.
They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.
He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.
“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”
Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.
“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”
“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”
“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.
“What does mini-punk even mean!”
“Not exactly, Pavitr.”
Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.
The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.
“Huh?”
“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.
“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”
Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.
Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.
“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.
Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.
“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”
A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.
“Wha’ ‘bout it?”
His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.
“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”
Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.
“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”
The punk quirked a brow.
“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.
“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.
“Exactly, it’s not.”
Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.
“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”
Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.
“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.
“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”
“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”
“Gwen, it’s not like that.”
“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”
“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.
“No— well, not unless—,”
“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.
“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“
They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.
“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.
The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.
“You agreed to this?”
lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”
He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.
“Now, you know that’s not tr—“
His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.
“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”
He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.
“I really didn’t mean to agree.”
Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”
And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.
You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.
How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.
You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.
And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.
Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?
Because you love him, you guess.
His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.
His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.
“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”
“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”
“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.
Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.
“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.
“This—, This asshole!”
“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.
Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”
“Not kicked.”
“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”
Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”
“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”
“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”
“Gwendolyne.”
“All of you, stop.”
Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”
“Since when did you have a say—“
“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”
“She’s an adult.”
“When it’s convenient to you.”
Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.
“She doesn’t talk to people.”
“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.
“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.
“Not that I’ve seen.”
Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”
“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.
“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.
“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oops too late, portals open.”
“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.
“Yeah..”
“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.
“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”
The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.
He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.
You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.
Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.
Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.
“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.
“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”
Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.
“I totally called it.”
“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.
“Oh my god, I love this movie!”
“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.
Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.
“The horse.”
“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.
Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”
You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.
He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.
The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.
Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.
“You doin’ right, babe?”
“Yeah, Hobes.”
You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”
“We’re in bed, dummy.”
He shot you a playful look.
“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”
You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.
A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.
“Sleep, sweethear’.”
“Mhmmph.”
Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.
No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.
BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️
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celestialscatterbrain · 6 months
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1. personal synastry and composite experiences and observations
Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)
Sun in 8th house synastry: I was the house person they were the sun. I definitely developed insecurities I never had before as a result of this connection. With the sun shining brightly on my insecurities, they were hard to ignore and even harder to not project them entirely on the sun. A lot of “you did this to me!” energy. I didn’t consider myself a jealous person until this relationship and a lot of it came from wanting to be “good enough” in the eyes of the sun person. It’s like knowing you have these darker aspects in common and wanting them to see you can bond this way and see them in a way no one can. You also end up pushing limits together. You liked this? Now WE love this. You’re addicted to that? Now WE are addicted to it. Moderation is hard to achieve with sun in the 8th house synastry. It can also bring up insecurities surrounding sex with that person specifically, if poorly aspected. Explosive reactions and emotional outbursts aren’t foreign here. The house person can feel like a vampire being sunburned, with all its ugliness revealing itself from its body because of its interaction with this person. The 8H person wants a full, in-depth analysis of the sun person’s thoughts, intentions, and motivations. The plutonic energy wants to completely envelop the sun, compulsively in some cases, to know WHY they are the way they are, and why the sun presents themselves in certain ways. This is especially true if the sun person did something to hurt the 8H person, who can feel it more than is rational. The 8H person can really struggle with getting over any emotional harm or feelings of abandonment that come from the sun person. The 8H person can potentially resent the sun person for not being able to read them as intently as they could read the sun person. The sex, if and once insecurities are worked through, can bring you so much closer to one another and to yourself. I also feel like any disturbances or intimacy problems between you two can easily be felt by others or there can be blow ups in front of people you know, because the sun is a planet that illuminates wherever the light lands, whether you like it or not. Avoid public fights, because you will kiss and makeup but the damage in other people’s eyes will be done and opinions will be made. The 8H person might be able to see through any facade the sun person puts up, and this could lead to deep discussions that could be extremely healing for the Sun who might have to work through some things. The 8H person can also teach the sun person how to make more money and maybe even encourage them to start their own business. They can be known as a couple that makes a lot of money together. The sun person can also give sugar daddy/mommy vibes and the 8H the sugar baby, even if it neither one of the people involved are rich-rich. This is a highly binding placement. You two might find it difficult or even impossible to separate from each other even if the relationship has run its natural course. You guys are known as the couple that is “stuck” to one another.
Moon in 5th house synastry: *weird* but, for those who have this placement with a significant other, do you love to smell their body odor? I think in the house of children and fertility, it makes sense to love your partner’s pheromones. Something as weird as the smell of their armpits or stinky feet becomes comforting, idk?? This house is also really fun, and you can get a lot of emotional fulfillment out of acting like children together. 5H is ruled by Leo, so I also found that we had a lot of fun putting on “shows” for one another, and sort of making up our own characters and accents to make the other giggle. People are also really excited for the prospect of us having children together, and you’ll have friends volunteering to babysit or be the godparent of your unborn children LOL. Dressing up nice and going out on dates to somewhere with a great ambiance can be a great way to feel connected. Sharing perfume, or gifting each other perfumes or colognes. Loving the scents they wear. Same taste in candles? Candles as gifts. Lots of watching TV together? Having “shows” that feel wrong to watch without the other. Being called pretty by the other means a lot, and being pretty in each other’s eyes makes you feel good.
Moon in 12th house synastry: 12H synastry tends to have an awful reputation, and I get it when it’s a relationship that isn’t meant for you. However, my moon falls in my best friend’s 12H, and it is one of my favorite placements of ours. We have a telepathic connection where we can just look at the other and know what’s up. You preemptively know what will bother the other person and find it hard to understand how other people wouldn’t have assumed that thing would annoy your person. You understand each other’s motives, and can provide the ultimate shoulder to cry on or ear to listen with. When it’s a new interaction it can feel a bit intense, because how are you in my head!!! I feel like you can read my thoughts! It was like that for the both of us. It’s like, when together, both our consciousnesses transported to another realm where we are mutually perceiving something and our thoughts are being put on a radio for the other to listen to. Very spiritual relationship. You KNOW the vibes, and those feelings will be verified through the other person who already felt the same. She will never be wrong in my eyes and I will defend her to the death. We don’t even have to speak on certain days, but we can feel whatever mood the other one is in and check-up on each other accordingly. Whenever we have a strange dream or nightmare, the first thing we do is text each other and try to analyze what it could mean. I as the 12H person also dreamt of us becoming best friends before we formally met. The dreams i would have of her would always be loaded with spiritual symbolism. We also grew up with the same level of emotional attachment to our personal spiritualities and shared religion, which plays a large role in our understandings of one another. Most people just won’t get it, but she always will. She could read my crazy journal entries if she wanted to. 12H moon synastry is just unconditional love. Between friends at least, it feels like a long-lost twin connection. Also, her and I had gotten matching tattoos before we even knew of each other, both of them being for the same spiritual meaning!
Composite Mars in 3rd house: Lots of talking during sex, and lots of car sex— It might sometimes feel like that’s the easiest thing to talk about, or the conversation always steers to that direction. Sending nudes? Sexting. Maybe the only way you two could engage your sexual desire for one another is through sexting, because distance might not permit the full physical expression. If you don’t have a lot of experience knowing the other’s communication style, it can lead to a bit of random defensiveness or perceiving the other as communicating abrasively. I think it can lead to one trying to get reactions out of the other by saying something out of pocket.
Composite Mercury in 12th house: Pay attention to the dreams you have of this person! They will seriously tell you a lot about your dynamic, but don’t take them at face value! Lots of mystical elements to your dreams about them specifically, so maybe reviewing tarot card meanings and astrology concepts can help you decipher the meanings of your dreams. You might find it easier than expected to confide in each other or rant about your brain’s inner workings together. “I don’t know why I’m saying all that-“ or psychoanalyzing each other for fun. Talking about your less-than-desirable attributes. Being honest about your deceptive tendencies or specific lies you’ve told and why. Oversharing things that will usually make other people uncomfortable in the same context (like talking about your exes or failed situationships on a first date). Difficulties communicating when it’s not in person because it leaves too much room for confusion. Deceit is a real possibility though, with someone voluntarily “leaving out details” about their life outside of the relationship to avoid ruining the flow of energy or the dynamic. Having each other saved on your phones under fake names. Having to hide that you’re talking to this person from other people. One of you withdrawing communication to manipulatively make the other think about you more. Taking turns being each other’s therapist. Thinking about each other often but never expressing that, or the extent to which you think of one another. Thinking about the other at night before going to bed. “I started catching feelings for the girl that I’m currently having sex with, so it’s safe to say we don’t talk anymore, unless of course we’re having sex” in Sasquatch .22 by Bay Faction.
Composite Venus in 12th house: There really is a secretive component to this interaction that can feel impossible to bypass. Your family, friends, or society might not “approve” of you two together. One or both of you can be cheating on someone with this person. Only being able to meet up or be affectionate at night or in extremely private settings. The privacy of the relationship can help you open up a lot more than you’d expect to, because there’s no one but you two to perceive the other in this context. No judgments on how you two should behave with one another, so “let’s fully enjoy the moment while it lasts.” No one understanding your interaction or it’s purpose, and you probably don’t understand it either. Sending telepathic love notes. Longing. Intimate and romantic sex that haunts you or catches you off guard. Never wanting to be the first one to admit you’ve caught feelings. Ruining your sleep schedule to spend time with one another. Dreaming about romantically linking with them before it ever happens. Withdrawing once feelings start feeling real. The song “Lips of Angel” by Hinder reminds me of Composite Venus in 12H. “Illicit Affairs,” “August,” and “False God” by Taylor Swift. “Why Can’t I?” by Liz Phair. Gato de Noche by Bad Bunny. Sex by The 1975.
Lilith in 8th house synastry: Wanting to try things sexually with this person that wasn’t necessarily exciting with other partners. “You can do whatever you want to me, and I’ll let you.” Possibly experimenting with or preferring BDSM with one another. That Lana lyric that’s like: You fucked me so good that I almost said “I love you.” It might also be controversial if people knew you’ve had sex with one another. Revenge sex? As in, you two having sex might indirectly be spiting someone else, and it kind of feels like you’re dishing out delicious karma on a surprising silver platter— “lol if only they knew” You two might have fun misbehaving together. Doing what you both know you’re not supposed to be doing can make everything feel better, and even more reason to keep doing what you’re doing. Lana Del Rey in Diet Mountain Dew: “you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.” Wanting to be dangerous together. “Leave me bruised so I can’t forget you.” “Seeing you tonight is a bad idea, right?” This placement somewhat reminds me of a union between the death card and the devil card in tarot, with an emphasis on risk-stained sexual liberation. You can become symbolic of temptation in each other’s lives, so it’s hard to deny your impulses. Toxic by Britney Spears.
-D 🖤🕯
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vanteguccir · 10 days
Text
Academic Validation | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Amid relentless academic pressure, Y/N finds herself consumed by the desperate pursuit of perfection in her college. Her obsession with validation leads her to neglect her own basic needs until a sudden accident forces her to confront the reality of her situation, receiving the complete help and support of her boyfriend, Chris.
Warning: Comparison, crying, dark thoughts, fainting.
Requested?: Yes, by @sturniolowhore
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sat at her desk in the corner of her shared room with Chris, surrounded by mountains of books, papers, and her laptop, whose screen glowed brightly in the semi-darkness of the room. The clock on the wall showed 2 a.m., but for her, time had lost all meaning.
The sound of Chris' light snores, who was sleeping soundly in the bed just a few meters away from the girl, sounded muffled against her ears. She had tried to sleep, really, but sleep wouldn't come at all, and when Y/N was sure that her boyfriend had finally slept, she was able to get up.
Her mind was totally immersed in study. Every cell in her body focused on absorbing every detail of the laws, the precedent cases, and the doctrines. She was obsessed with academic validation, an incessant compulsion to be the best in her law school, not because she wanted to be better than others, but to show herself that she was capable of something.
The pressure to achieve excellence was overwhelming. Every time a score was posted, her heart raced in anticipation, and each less-than-perfect mark was a stab at her already fragile self-esteem.
Y/N never felt like she was enough, no matter how hard she worked or how well she did. There was always that underlying fear of not being good enough, of not living up to other people's expectations and, even worse, her own unrealistically high expectations.
Days and nights melted into a haze of books and coffee as she sank deeper and deeper into her quest for perfection. She found herself studying until the early hours of the morning, neglecting her basic needs.
Eating had become a sporadic activity, limited to quick and insufficient snacks. Drinking water was a luxury she couldn't afford to waste time on. Taking a shower or even going out to get some sun was completely out of the question.
Her body began to show signs of abandonment, her eyes sunken and tired, her skin pale and lifeless. The dark circles that adorned her face were like badges of honor, marking the sleepless nights and days of incessant study.
But Y/N ignored all the signs.
She was determined not to be overcome by her own limits, even if it meant sacrificing her physical and mental health in the process.
Chris, worried, tried in vain to bring a little normality to her life. He watched from afar every day, helpless in the face of the web of obsession that enveloped Y/N.
He would try to talk to her, sometimes even begging Matt to do so - his brother had a way with words, but she would always evade it, sinking deeper into her bubble of study and self-denial.
Y/N didn't want to worry him, didn't want to admit she was losing control. She was determined to face this battle alone, no matter the cost.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The clock on the wall read almost 9 pm of a Tuesday, and Y/N was still locked in her shared room with Chris, immersed in a sea of ​​books and papers. Her desk was a chaotic mess, with crumpled papers and several tabs open on Google on her laptop, each representing a different subject that she was desperately trying to absorb. Her hand hurt from writing so much, her eyes burned from reading so much, and her body was weak from the time she had spent there.
Chris entered the room for the fifth time that day, carrying a glass of water in one hand and a pink plate with a simple sandwich in the other. His heart sank when he saw Y/N's state, her tense and exhausted expression, her almost obsessive determination to continue studying, ignoring everything else.
His blue eyes traveled across the mess of the table slowly, noticing the plate of Y/N's favorite cookies, which he had brought hours earlier, still untouched, and he swore he felt his heart break again.
"Hi babe... Here, you need to eat something." The boy approached cautiously, trying not to scare her. His voice sounded softly, showing her the plate with the sandwich.
Y/N looked down at the ceramic, her tired eyes reflecting a mix of stubbornness and exhaustion.
"I... I need to keep studying." She murmured, shaking her head, her voice weak and shaky. "I have an important test, Chris. I can't stop now."
Chris felt a wave of frustration and anger rise up inside him. He knew how important that test was for Y/N - and all the others she studied incessantly, but he also knew that she was pushing her limits. He refused to stand by and watch as she destroyed herself.
“Y/N, you can’t go on like this.” He insisted, his voice rising slightly with urgency. "You need to rest, you need to eat, you need to do something besides studying!"
"I can't, Chris. I can't stop now. I need to..." Y/N shook her head determinedly, keeping her blurry eyes fixed on the papers in front of her.
Chris sighed heavily, dropping the plate and cup onto the wooden surface with a thud, his own frustration spilling over into angry tears.
“You’re destroying yourself, Y/N.” He murmured, his voice choked by the weight of his own emotions. "And I can't stand here and watch it anymore."
With that, Chris turned and left the room, leaving a very lost Y/N behind, her teeth biting her lower lip hard in an attempt to stop her feelings from taking over herself, an atmosphere full of tension and despair taking over the environment.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Then came the day when her body finally said enough was enough.
It was 2 a.m., and Y/N was sitting at her desk as usual when a wave of exhaustion hit her with full force. She felt dizzy, her vision blurred, and her hands shook uncontrollably. The world around her seemed to fall apart as she fought to stay conscious.
The girl gripped the edge of the wooden surface tightly, trying to stabilize herself, but the force used was almost nil, her fingers sliding across the table and her arms falling limply. Her senses gradually disappeared, causing her body to bend to the right until she completely collapsed, escaping the safety of the chair.
The sound of Y/N's body hitting the floor made Chris jump out of bed in instant fright. The boy sat up abruptly, his sleep-clouded eyes traveling around the room in search of the source of the rude sound. His heart raced with panic when he saw his girlfriend lying on the floor, motionless.
Chris ripped the blanket off his body, quickly standing up and running to her, ignoring his own confusion and worry flooding his mind.
"Y/N! Y/N, baby, wake up!" He shouted, desperate, as he knelt beside her, pushing the pink gaming chair away.
With shaking hands, he checked her breathing and pulse, relieved to find that she was still breathing. Carefully, Chris turned her onto her side, briefly remembering when Nick told him that this was the correct procedure to do when a person suddenly passed out. His wide blue eyes ran frantically over her body as he silently counted the seconds in his mind.
Relief flooded him as he saw Y/N begin to regain consciousness, her eyes blinking slowly as she tried to understand where she was.
"Chris? What... what happened?" She murmured, her voice weak and her brow furrowed in confusion, her right hand rising from its limp position and reaching towards her head, pressing against the side, a pained expression spreading across her face.
Chris ignored her question momentarily, lowering himself to her level and pulling her into a hug tightly, sighing deeply as he repeated in his mind that she was there, alive and fine.
"You passed out, sweetheart. I heard the noise and... Oh God, Y/N, I thought you had..." The tears - which the boy barely noticed coming into his eyes - began to flow freely down his cheeks, his heart aching at the thought of the possibility of losing her.
His thoughts self-sabotaged him, making him feel guilty, he felt that he should have realized sooner - despite all the countless attempts to try to bring her out of her bubble, that he should have done something to prevent her from getting to that extreme point.
Y/N slowly sat up with the support of Chris's hands after he backed away, still feeling weak and bewildered.
Upon hearing her boyfriend's words, she felt her own eyes fill with tears, the accumulated emotions overflowing into a torrent of anguish and despair.
"I'm sorry, babe. Fuck- I'm so sorry. I... I can't do this anymore, Chris." A sob escaped her throat roughly, her voice choked with crying. "I'm destroying myself because of my own expectations. I... I don't know what to do anymore." She whispered, lowering her gaze to the ground, trapping her lower lip between her teeth in an attempt to stop the ugly sounds that wanted to escape in an avalanche. "Oh my God, I hurt you."
Chris held her gently, pulling her to lay her head on his shoulder, cradling her in his arms like a baby while they were still on the floor, unburdening herself of all her worries and fears. He listened intently to her ranting, his heart clenched by the pain Y/N was facing alone.
“Hey, hey, baby, don't do this to yourself. You’re not alone in this, Y/N.” Chris murmured, gently kissing the top of her head. "I'm here, always have been and always will be. I promise we'll get through this, love."
"I'm so sorry, Chris." The girl murmured, lifting her gaze from the ground and focusing on the brunette's orbs, wondering how he still allowed himself to love and help her so much, even after causing him such worries and fear.
Chris shook his head, silently reassuring her that everything was fine. He pulled his girl's pink chair towards them, slowly lifting himself so as not to hurt her and sitting on the plush seat, before guiding Y/N onto his lap, sitting her sideways on his thighs and laying her face on his shoulder, his mind working hard to come up with an idea to help Y/N find a healthy balance between her academic aspirations and her personal well-being.
"Why don't we establish a more realistic study plan, hm? With time to rest and all the self-care that will be good for you, I'll help you." The brunette whispered, looking down anxiously, hoping she could understand his point. "We can also seek professional help, a therapist, who will help you deal with your emotions and anxieties. If you want, I can participate in all the sessions with you."
Y/N looked at Chris with gratitude in her teary eyes. She knew it wouldn't be an easy journey, but with Chris's loving support by her side, she felt a spark of hope light up in her heart.
"Would you do that for me?" Her voice came out in a broken whisper, her heart warming at his sweet words.
"I'll be right by your side, my love. Always." Chris responded without blinking.
He lowered his head, sealing the top of Y/N's hair for long seconds, stroking the area with his nose lightly. His hands wrapped tightly around her body, keeping her secure in his lap and against his own body, before beginning to draw invisible circles with his fingers against her covered back.
"Sleep, sweet girl. I'll be here when you wake up. Everything will be alright."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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oliversrarebooks · 8 months
Text
listen to my Voice, hero
TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, intimate whumper, restraints, corruption
Are your bonds comfortable, Hero? I wouldn't want to cause any damage to your precious muscles and nerves. You are the city's shining hope, after all. Or at least, you have been until now.
Good, now we can have a proper chat. You can just listen carefully to everything I have to say. 
Oh, don't glare at me like that. How many times have we clashed now? And every time you manage to resist my lovely compelling Voice just enough to stop my plans, just enough so that I must escape by the skin of my teeth. You must have known it might come to this eventually, a time when my compulsions are too strong for you to fight, a time when my Voice finally brings you to your knees.
I've been training, dear hero, training especially for you. Training for you, because you're really the only one in this city worth controlling. You're better than all of them. We both know that. And I know how you feel about me, because I've seen the look in your eyes when my compulsions take hold of your pretty little mind.
No, no, be quiet. Be quiet.That's it, there you are. Oh, the delicious expression on your face when I use my Voice on you. I'll never get enough of it.
Most heroes look terrified, you know, to have their thoughts pulled out from under them, to find their body out of their control. Terrified, angry, defiant -- that's how the other heroes look. But you're different. In that moment when I weave my spell on you, when you feel your mind go hazy and your body stop obeying your commands, I see something else in your eyes. I see relief. Deep, unmistakable relief.
No, don't try to deny it. I've tangled with you too many times to be wrong about this. You're relieved when I compel you. You'd never admit it, not even to yourself, but you long for the way it feels. You long to have your choices taken away. You long to not have to make decisions. You long to not have to fight any more.
But every time, you fight. Every time, you break free of my Voice. And I can see the toll it takes on you. That's why I've been training so hard, Hero. So that you couldn't resist my Voice, wouldn't be able to break free. So that I could give you what you want more than anything. 
I've seen you, Hero. I've seen you at your best and at your lowest, haven't I? I understand you better than anyone else in the city. You know it's true. And I can see how exhausted you are. How you've been worked to the bone. How you never get to rest, never get a vacation. I even tried cutting back on my evil schemes in the hopes that you'd take a break, but all you did was pursue other villains twice as hard. 
There are deep bags under your eyes, Hero, marring your beautiful face. There's resignation in your tone that was never there before. I can't stand it, can't stand the way the city treats you. You're destroying yourself to save this ungrateful, useless population and all they do is criticize you. It makes me sick.
And I know what you do once you've defeated me and I escape back to my lair. I know you return to your cold, empty apartment, and curl up on the couch with some convenience food, trying to relax. I know how you toss and turn at night, wondering if you're doing the right thing. I know how lonely you are, Hero. I'm lonely too, you know.
I wish you could see how glassy and dazed your eyes are right now. It's beautiful. Listening to my Voice is so nice, isn't it? Yes, that's it, just relax.
Oh, your hair is so soft. I bet you haven't had a tender touch like this in a while. I saw you lean into it before you caught yourself. Let me run my hand through your hair, there's a good, relaxed hero. Is that a sleepy little smile I see? You like that, don't you?
In fact, you like all of this, don't you? You like having no choice but to relax and listen as my compelling Voice weaves a spell around you. You like the feeling as I slowly hypnotize your vulnerable mind, how your resistance slips away little by little. You've thought about this on those lonely nights, haven't you? What it would feel like if I won. What it would feel like to succumb to my hypnotic compulsions. What it would feel like if you stopped fighting and let me take charge of your mind completely.
Oh, don't struggle. Don't struggle. Relax.There it is again, that relief. My Voice feels good, doesn't it? It feels so good to have the fight taken out of you. Don't deny it, it's written all over your face.
You don't need to pretend you haven't thought about it. You somehow manage to always be the first hero on the scene whenever I try anything. Almost as if you're willing to drop anything to see me, isn't it?
But you were scared. I'm a villain, after all. I don't deny it. You must think I might hurt or humiliate you. Well, you can put all of your fears to rest, because I have no intention of that. I respect you far too much. I'm going to take good care of you, Hero. I'm going to give you the treatment you deserve. I'm going to help you relax. I'm going to take all your worries away.  It's going to feel amazing, Hero, I promise.
I'm sorry, were you trying to say something just now? Still trying to fight it? You'll have to speak up, it's too hard to hear you when you're so out of it.
"It's wrong"? Is that what you said, Hero?
No, what's wrong is how little reward you get for everything you do. That's why I had to do this, had to train my Voice to be strong enough to be irresistible even to you. Now I can reward you. I can give you everything you want, everything you need, beginning with the beautiful, relaxing oblivion of total and complete obedience.
You'll get other rewards, too, of course you will. Together we'll share in the riches of the city, bend everyone in power to our wills. It's what we both deserve. But this is your first and most important reward -- obedience. Nothing is more calm, relaxing, and peaceful than knowing you have no choice, than having every decision made for you.
And all you have to do is listen. 
I'm too strong for you now, Hero, my Voice too compelling. You're almost entirely under my spell, aren't you? I can see how drowsy you are, how my compulsions are putting your conscious mind to sleep.
Yes, that's it. You're too exhausted, Hero. Too tired. Too many nights with too little sleep. You need to rest. You need to stop fighting. You need to surrender.
No one will think any less of you. They'll see how powerful I've become, how easily I can command even the strongest and smartest. They'll realize you had no choice, that it was out of your hands. You won't need to feel guilt or shame. Everyone will know this wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could do to prevent yourself falling under my villainous control. 
And the fact that you actually enjoy this, the fact that you long to give in so badly and fall under my hypnotic trance? That can be our little secret, Hero.
There we go. That's it, just a little more. Look into my eyes. Look nice and deep into my eyes while I stroke your hair and talk you down softly. Just like you've always dreamed of. No more fear, no more pain. Only sweet restful sleep and deep hypnotic trance. 
That's it, Hero. It's too late. You're too tired, too drowsy, too captured in my Voice to fight it. There's nothing to do. Nothing you have to do. Just feel yourself growing oh so dazed and sleepy as I weave my Voice around you. So comforting. So right. Exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed. Exactly where you belong. 
Tell me, Hero, tell me you want this.
That's it, that's it! Oh, how I've longed to hear those words from you. Tell me how my Voice makes you feel. Be honest.
Oh. Oh, my. That's... that's even better than I expected. Far, far better. You love my Voice that much? Oh, Hero, dear Hero, why didn't you say so before? You could have had this any time. I would have been more than happy to bring you to my lair and give you the hypnosis you deserve. You could have been listening to my Voice all day.
Well, it doesn't matter now, because now you can have my Voice all you want, stronger than it's ever been. Isn't that nice? Oh, look at you bob your drowsy head. I don't even need to compel agreement out of you. You're so deeply hypnotized, aren't you? Good, good. Good hero. 
My hero.
Now, why don't you go all the way under? Just keep listening and let your eyelids grow oh so heavy. Let those heavy eyes close. Don't open them again. That's a good hero. So obedient and docile. You're so, so beautiful to me, my drowsy, docile hero. 
Yes, docile. That's what you are, deep down inside. All your strength, all your determination to do the right thing, all of that is a mask that conceals who you really are. A docile and obedient little lamb. And no one needs to know that but me. I'll fulfill your deep craving to be hypnotized and controlled, and you can still be every bit as strong and determined when you're working under my orders. Doesn't that sound just perfect for you? 
All the way under, now, deep into hypnotic trance. Let your resistance fade, my hero. Let your mind fog. Let your mental defenses fall.
Surrender. Surrender and submit. Submit to me, just like you've always wanted.
You can finally feel that relief. You can finally take that rest. Because I have you now. You're mine. I'm in complete control now, my docile little hero. 
And I order you to feel nothing but bliss.
Masterlist
If you like this, you may like "the defiant princess" for more gentle, slow induction on a resisting subject.
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cheesus-doodles · 2 months
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How does Ran view Rindo’s best friend reader? And what’s his opinion on their relationship? I really like your work on Rindo and reader!
thank you for your kind words anon!
Masterlist | Rindo Tags
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Ran thinks that the two of you together are adorable.
Yes sure, he knows damn well that both the both of them are delinquents who ruthlessly rule the back alleys of Roppongi with an iron fist, and that they are indeed supposed to be feared. But how was he supposed to think any other way when he sees Rindo with you?
Even though you clearly are the more easygoing and naive of your little pair with a tendency to go along with whatever it was that Rindo wanted, in Ran's eyes, its still his younger brother who comes off as the lost puppy trailing you looking for affection and attention, happy to let you lead him around by the nose. Yes, both of the Haitanis have both been in and out of juvie for various reasons, and Ran is perfectly aware of how Rindo is actually like during fights, having no qualm with breaking bones and putting faces through cement. Yet Ran still finds it hard to find any good reason to fear Rindo whenever you are arm-in-arm with him, chattering away with a complete lack of awareness to your surroundings. Ran, in fact, finds it rather amusing to occasionally poke his younger brother by linking arms with you just to get a reaction out of him and see him growl and threaten.
There was no way that Ran could possibly hate you, not with what you had done for Rindo. As the older of the two (not by much but still), Ran takes it upon himself to learn about and keep an eye out for Rindo, even if the younger Haitani dislikes his older brother's intrusions into his life.
And from what Ran can tell, Rindo has only changed for the better - as much as a delinquent can, at least. He knew that the day you picked Rindo over him was the day that something within Rindo had sparked (or snapped), and the younger Haitani had never let go of you since then, which you didn't seem to mind. Good thing either way, since with you came a sense of responsibility for Rindo that he never had, and Ran do so appreciate Rindo caring about something outside of picking fights for a change. Maybe you could get him to care about bills as well soon.
You did bring a breath of fresh air into both their lives, which the older of the brothers appreciates. With you came normal afternoons, calm evenings, and even peaceful nights; being a regular civilian with no ties to the gang life, you usually were the one to drag the two Haitani brothers around to your favourite cafes or the newest shops. Normal activities. Of course, the the only caveat to peace and normality being that you were within arm's length of Rindo, but that was easy enough to achieve.
Ran does however wish from time to time that you were the slightest bit more self aware and less air-headed. The amount of stress you cause his younger brother on a day-to-day basis simply can't be healthy, but more importantly, it affects Ran as well. Don't get him wrong, this older delinquent was content to watch his younger brother run around like a headless chicken from time to time, but when it spills over into his life and causes Ran to lose his precious sleep is where he draws the line. Maybe with a few more brain cells, you would be able to learn which action would result in a explosive reaction from your best friend, but it has already been years and Ran isn't hopeful.
Rindo always anxiously checking in on you whenever he could as if you would vanish off the face of the earth the moment he wasn't looking (being lured into a van and kidnapped with candy was what Rindo swears would be enough to work on you, and Ran didn't doubt as much). And when he couldn't, Ran would have the chance to be amused by his younger brother compulsively opening and closing his phone every second just to make sure he wasn't missing any messages that you were sending him, before giving in after five minutes and simply calling you. This would quickly turn into a full blown cursing and swearing session when you fail to pick up within half a minute, followed by a panicked Rindo dropping everything to take off and hunt you down.
This usually happens during school time, when the younger of the Haitanis reluctantly let you attend class, only to storm your classroom later on, though meltdowns also tend to happen at night when you aren't sleeping over at their place. And the latter is when Ran gets awoken by all the scrambling, sometimes getting dragged up as well to look for you when Rindo happens to barge into your room on the rare occasion you wandered out for a midnight snack.
Despite Ran knowing that whatever Rindo has going on with you isn't quite normal, with Rindo being a tad too obsessed with knowing where you were and what you were doing at all times, the older delinquent doesn't care. As long as his younger brother was happy, Ran was content with playing along. And alas, until Ran can knock some common sense into that empty head of yours, he'll settle for tying you to a chair and hauling your ass back to Rindo.
Ah the woes of being an older brother.
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samandcolby-ownme · 2 months
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This was originally going to be just a Sam one shot, but then i decided to make it a Sam and Colby one shot. I felt like Sam's cover was too good to change, so enjoy the buy one get one free deal lol.
Summary: Reader drives herself insane trying to think of this mystery man she cannot stop thinking about and completely caught off guard when there's two of them.
Warnings: SMUT18+, vampire!Sam, demon!colby, compulsion and mind reading from both Sam and Colby, mentions of blood and blood drinking, strong language, mentions of alcohol, reading feeling like they're going insane, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, fingering, oral (m&f rec), threesome w/ dp, dirty and cute pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, filth
Word count: 10.3k | NOT edited
Not a request
Bold italics are Sam and Colby speaking in readers head.Regular italics are scenes they create in her head & reader being compelled at times.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Have you ever tried moving on from something that hasn't necessarily happened, but no matter how hard you tried, you just can't?
Your mind, constantly replaying stuff in your dreams, random times throughout the day.
Hitting you when you least expect it?
Then, when you finally think you've gotten over it, gotten rid of the haunting thoughts, it comes back, stronger than it was before?
That was you. Right now.
You had this feeling of anxiety, feeling like something was going to happen. It's happened multiple times a day, even causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes gasping for air.
But, you can never remember your dreams and nothing ever happens.
You could never describe the feeling.
Your friends would ask if you're okay because you looked 'tired' or you said no to doing something you always have said yes to.
They knew something was up, and so did you, but you just didn't know what was causing you to feel like this so it was always 'I didn't sleep well last night' or some other lame excuse that they could see right through.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Your friend, Cami asks, "You've been, not sleeping well, for the last week or so." She tilts her head, "What's really going on?"
You take a deep breath, "I honestly.." you pause, leaning forward to set your coffee mug down on the coffee table, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to call me crazy."
She nods, leaning back against the couch, "Okay."
You pinch the bridge of your nose, "So besides me not sleeping well, I'll get to that in a sec, but it started last week, after we came home from Tara's party."
"Did someone h-"
You cut her off, "No. no. It's not that."
She sighs, "Oh fuck, okay good." She motions, "Continue. Sorry."
You bat the air, "When I came home I felt like I was forgetting something, but I had everything I took with. I also felt.. I don't know, almost guilty for going and having a good time? Like, almost like I shouldn't have gone? I'd don't know."
She furrows her brows, "That doesn't make any senses. I mean, I just.." she stops, "it sounds like you're feeling emotions you'd feel when you're with someone and you did something you know they don't like."
You shrug, "I mean, yeah. It kind of does feel that way, but at the same time if I really think about it, it still doesn't make sense. I mean, maybe I think about it way too much, but-"
She cuts you off, "Are you talking to anyone? Maybe someone who is a potential boyfriend and you felt bad for going out?"
You look up at her, "That's where it gets crazy."
She gives you a weird look, "Huh?"
"I feel like- okay. You promised not to call me crazy, so just.. hear me out." You stare at her and she nods and you continue trying to explain, "I feel like.. I already belong to someone."
She makes a face and you hold your hand up, "I know. I know. I just, I can't. I can't explain it really. I mean, I keep seeing this person in my dreams and it almost feels like they're who I'm-"
You shake your head, "That sounds absolutely fucking insane. I take back what I said, you can call me crazy."  
You laugh, slightly embarrassed at what you just said.
This is the first time that you've actually talked about it out loud, and it sounds a lot crazier than you originally had thought.
"You're into reading books, right?" Cami asks and you nod, "Yeah, I'm actually reading one right now."
"What's it about?" She brings her legs up, moving the blanket to cover up. You purse your lips, "It's a darker romance book, so it's basically about a guy who comes at the most random times but he has a big secret and all that."
"What's he described as? Like what does he look like?" She brings her mug to her face and you shrug, "Um. I mean, like a normal looking guy. Slightly tall-ish. Blue eyes. At first he had brown hair, then he bleaches it to blonde, what does-"
"Who's the guy you see in your dreams?"
You stare at her, "Oh shit."
She chuckles, "I don't know about you, and now when I say this, I speak from experience because I'm sure we've all have done it, but it sounds like you're experiencing fictophilia."
"What the hell is that?" You laugh slightly at the last word she said, "fictophilia?"
She nods, "Yeah, it's where people, real people like us, fall in love with fictional characters in a book."
"Can it be as strong as taking over how you feel?" You ask, tilting your head, "Because when I tell you, I could have puked from feeling guilty that night, I was-" you hold up your thump and pointed, an inch from each other, "-This close."
She shakes her head, "No, I don't think it can cause that. I think you just drank a little, too much." She smirks, "Those back to back shots definitely had something to do with it."
You sigh, closing your eyes as you nod, "Yeah, yeah no. You're probably right. I'm just definitely over thinking about it."
"And the not getting sleep will definitely play a part in that. You need to take a nap. A real nap." She smirks, "and stop being delusional."
You roll your eyes, smirking as you nod, "Yeah, yeah. I know. But these fictional men, Cami. They'll getcha."
She nods as she stands up, "No I know. I watched a movie the other day and thought about the one character for three days straight."
"See. My point exactly." She laugh as you walk her over to the door. She turns, "I don't think you're crazy. Fictional characters happen to us all."
She leans in for a hug, "But if it gets to the point to where you tell me you're dating someone who isn't real, I'm funny farming your ass."
You laugh, leaning back as you look at her, "I won't put up a fight."
You close the door after she walks out, turning around to look at your empty apartment. You flick the lock before you walk over to the couch, sitting down to switch on the tv.
You put on the show you were watching and you can't help but think about your conversation with Cami.
It felt like so much more than what you told her.
It felt too real, but you really didn't want her to think you were losing it. That you were crazy.
But you felt it.
After multiple days of trying to figure out who the guy in your dreams is and not having any clue whatsoever is maddening.
Constantly telling yourself, I'm going crazy, each time you try hard to remember his face and about lose it because you can't.
You have a feeling that he wasn't just the guy in the book.
He was so much more than that, to you, in your head at least.
But, little did you know, that he was a creature who had such a pretty face, a dark, dark soul - along with his friend.
You shake your head, laying down and getting comfortable on the couch so you can try and take a well needed nap.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You reach over the counter, smiling at the barista, "Thank you." She nods, moving on to hand out the next coffee.
You walk away, heading towards the door. You go to push it open but stumble out when someone on the outside opens it before you.
"Oh, shit." The guy lays an arm in front of you, stopping your stumble. You stand up straight, looking up at the blonde.
He smiles slightly, "Are you okay? I'm sorry. I didn't see you coming out."
You nod, laughing slightly, "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm okay. Thank you for opening the door for me." You smile at him and he shrugs, "Call it fate."
A loud thump causes you to jump awake. You sit up, slowly turning to look back over the couch. You blink a few times, trying to get your vision used to the darkness of your apartment.
You call out slight groggy, "Hello?"
No answer.
Your phone ringing causes you to jump and you let out a sigh as you look at it. You debated on not answering, mainly because you seen the movies.
You know how it goes.
But it was cami, so you answer, "Hello?"
"Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Wanna join?" She asks, "We're going to bar hop." You bite your lip, quickly turning around when you feel a presence off to your left, "Uh, yeah. Yeah."
"You'll come?" She asks, excitement seeping from her words, "Great. We can all just meet up in the parking lot of your place and we can walk to Bar Eight."
"That's fine with me. I need a shower, I just woke up from a nap." You stretch your arm above your head, "you can come over whenever. I'll be here."
"I have to finish getting ready, too but I'll be over within the hour."
"Okay." You nod to yourself, "See ya." You pull the phone away from your ear and stand up. You walk over to the lamp, switching it on and from the corner of your eye, you can see a figure disappear.
"Oh fucking hell." You rub your eyes and sigh. You mentally tell yourself that it's the sleep deprivation or that you just need to distract yourself.
Maybe having people stay over after a night out will help.
You walk to the bathroom, switching the shower on and it quickly fills with steam. You undress, stepping in and sighing as the hot water washes over your body.
It feels like hands slid over your shoulders and you zone out.
You're walking down the street with Cami, having a small conversation. You're oblivious to the people walking towards you on the left side of the side walk.
Someone runs into your shoulder, knocking your purse off. It falls to the ground and some of your things spill out.
As you bend down, what you assume, is the guy who bumped into you, bends down to help you.
"Here. Let me help."
You look up, tucking hair behind your one ear as your eyes meet a guy with dark hair and blue eyes, "Oh, um. Thank you."
He nods, handing you the strap of your bag, "No need, I should watch where I'm going more often."
You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be a bad idea." He stands up and holds his hand out. You felt oddly trusting of him, so you take his hand to stand up.
"I'm Colby." He smiles and you nod, "I'm y/n."
You turn around quickly, wiping the water from your face as you only remember the hands on your shoulders, "what the fuck!"
You pull the shower curtain back, peaking out as if that was the smartest thing to do, "Go away."
Nothing in response.
You lean back into the shower and fix the curtain before doing your routine. As you're rising the conditioner out of your hair, you feel like there's eyes on you.
Like someone is watching.
You finish up, quicker than you thought, and step out.
You tilt your head at the neatly folded towel on the corner of the counter and stare at it, "Did I do that?"
You think hard but can't remember.
You grab it, snapping it open so you can wrap up your hair and put the other one around your body. You open the bathroom door, and nothing else seems out of ordinary as you step out.
You turn, walking into your room and going to your closet. You shift through the hangers, finding a cute top and a pair of ripped jeans.
You toss the towel down, quickly getting dressed before taking your hair down.
A very faint, she's so pretty, causes you to snap your head towards the door, "Cami?" You slowly scrunch your hair in the towel and shake your head, it's just the tv.
After a while, there's a knock on your door and you get up to go open it, "Hey guys. Come in." You smile as Cami and your other friends walk in, greeting you with smiles.
"I just need to grab my bag then I'm ready." You walk into your room, grabbing your purse and turning to walk out when you suddenly stop.
You don't know why you stop, but you just do.
Your mind goes blank for a second and then suddenly you're walking back out to your friends like nothing just happened, "Okay. I'm ready."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"So do you come here often?"
You try not to roll your eyes at the cringey, overused pickup line, "I mean.. kind of?" You laugh slightly and sip your drink, "I only live a few minutes away."
Why would you say that? You don't know him.
Your brows furrow, "That was weird."
"What was weird?" The guy still standing infront of you asks, making you realize that you now just thought out loud, "Um, nothing. Nothing sorry. Continue."
"No." He laughs, "I like weird shit, tell me."
You sigh, smirking slightly, "Do you ever.. how do I say this." He shrugs with a smile, "Just say it."
"Do you ever feel like there's someone in your head but it's not you?" The words roll off your tongue and you instantly regret it, "Wait. No. That sounds awful."
He shakes his head, "No I know exactly what you mean."
No he doesn't.
You close your eyes, "Almost like it's someone trying to talk to you, but it's just.." you laugh, "Confusing. Weird. I don't know."
The guy nods, "I'm so glad someone else thinks the same as me."
You smile and that feeling hits again. Like you shouldn't be there. Like you're about to be sick, which can't be from the alcohol, you've only had three so far and they weren't your usual double shots.
"If you'll excuse me I need to g-" you walk away, leaving your drink at the bar. As you're walking towards the bathroom, someone steps back from the bar, too quickly for you to dodge them.
You run right into them and sigh, "Excuse you."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
You look up and a blonde guy is standing there. Something about him causes your curiosity to spike, "No.. it's fine. I was just-" you shake your head, "I'm sorry, is this is weird, but do I know you?"
He shrugs, "My name's Sam."
"Sam. Sam. Sam." You repeat to yourself a few times quietly, "No, sorry. I don't think I know a Sam."
"Hmm. Well maybe we can call it fate that you just happened to run into me like you did." He smirks and for some reason, his words cause you to straight up your posture, "first off, you weren't paying attention."
You smirk and tilt your head, "Second off, I swear we've had a conversation before. I just-"
"Can't think of it right now? That happens to me all the freaking time." He chuckles as he sips his drink, "Are you drinking?"
"I mean, I was. I left mine back there with a guy, I was on my way to the bathroom."
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, are you with someone?" Sam asks and you shake your head, wanting to say yes because it really feels like it, but in reality, you're not.
"No, no. My friend just left me there and he appeared and yeah. Nothing serious, I don't even know his name."
Why are you defending yourself to someone you don't know, you think, "I'm y/n. I guess I should have told you that when you told me yours."
He smiles, "Pretty name, y/n." He motions to the bar, "Can I buy you a new one?" You smile, "I think I'd like that a lot, Sam."
You step up to the bar with him and Sam flags down the one bartender, "Whatever she wants. It can go on my tab, Golbach."
As you look up at him, you get this odd feeling of déjà vu.
"What?" He asks with a smirk and you shake your head, "You just.. remind me of someone I can't really remember."
"What?" He laughs, "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh I just-"
"No, no please laugh. I'm so awkward." You cover your face with one hand and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry." He moves your hand from your face, "I think you're beautiful."
You feel your cheeks heat up and he bites his lower lip, "Can I ask you a question?"
You nod, "Yes."
He leans in, eyes focusing onto yours, "You will answer yes to my question and not question anything else. Can you follow me to the bathroom so I can have a taste of you?"
You smile, "Yes."
"That was easy." He downs the rest of his drink and slides his hand down into yours, "Follow me, princess."
You leave your drink, mind only focusing on one thing right now and you absolutely were not questioning it.
He leads you to the back, pushing the door to the bathroom open and lets you walk in first. He follows behind you, shutting the door and locking it.
He stares at you for a few seconds, the only thing he's focused on right now is listening to your blood flow through your veins.
"You're going to taste so fucking good." He moves in front of you within a second, hands on your hips which guide you back to sit you on the sink's edge.
His eyes focus on yours again, "Don't make a sound."
All you do is nod, moving your eyes from him to the wall behind him as he dips his head down to press his lips to the side of your neck.
Your eyes flutter closed as he gently sucks a spot into your neck, tongue moving over your skin before lifting his head ever so slightly.
His grip tightens on your waist as his fangs emerge, eager to be sunk into your delicate skin.
"Ready?" Sam whispers and you nod silently. He smirks and your eyes go wide, hands sliding up and gripping the collar of his shirt as his teeth sink into your skin.
His groan is muffled by your neck and his hands pull you in closer to him.
Your hand lays on the back of his head, mouth parted in completely silence as your eyes flutter closed.
The feelings you get is pain mixed with the upmost euphoric pleasure.
As you open your eyes, you see a man leaning up against the wall, watching. You can't tell who he is, as your vision is kind of hazy.
Sam lifts his head a little, "Go away Colby."
The guy, who you presume as Colby now, chuckles, "Come on, who says you can have all the fun?" Sam stands up, licking his now red lips. He lifts a finger, wiping away the blood drop that's rolling down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
"You can have your fun later. This was my idea, so I get first dibs, remember?" Sam glances back at him and he walks up next to him, eyes on you, "She is so fucking beautiful."
"Ain't she?" Sam grips your chin, "You can talk now, but you're still not questioning anything."
You clear your throat, swallowing to relieve it from the dryness and Colby sighs, "Clean her blood up, Sam."
"Why?" Sam teases, "Smells good doesn't it?"
Colby shakes his head, "You know I don't have control like you do." Sam sighs, rolling his eyes as he wipes the blood from your neck with his thumb, "Scaredy cat."
He smears some of his blood on the open wounds, getting them to heal faster so he can cover his tracks before he brings his thumb to his lips.
You watch as he licks the red liquid from his skin, "Mm." He leans back slightly before leaning back in, his voice going quieter, "So fucking good."
He presses his lips to yours and the metallic taste of your own blood washes over your tongue.
"Alright. You gotta get her back to her friends, they're ready to go to another bar." Colby moves back, leaning against the wall and Sam nods, "Do you have any questions for me, sweetheart?"
You smile slightly, reaching out to grab his shirt with your hands, "You're coming with me."
He raises a brow, "Is that a demand?"
"Only if you want it to be." You bite your lip, staring up at him as you continue to smile at him. He sighs, "I'll find you, babe. I promise."
You nod, sliding down from the sink, "You better." As you go to walk towards the door, Colby clears his throat, "Sam."
Sam sighs, "Shit, right." Sam quickly moves between you and the door, "I promise I'll undo all of this later, but for right now.." he cups your cheeks with his hands, looking into your eyes, "Forget about what happened and what you saw. You're going to tell your friends that you used the bathroom and only remember me as Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street."
Within a blink of an eye, they're both gone and you're left standing alone in the bathroom, "Guess I'm done here."
You walk out and your friends are standing in a group by the door, "There she is. We thought you left." Cami says reaching out to grab your hand.
"No, I was just using the bathroom." You smile, "Are we going to another bar?"
Cami nods, "We're going to go hang out at Electric Avenue." You groan, "Oh my god, I love that place."
She laughs, "Then what are we waiting for?" She wraps her arm around yours and as you leave Bar Eight, you can't help but feel like you're forgetting something.
Something that happened, but you can't quite put your finger on it. That sick feeling returns, but this time it comes with heartache.
Even though you're with your friends, you feel extra lonely right now. In this moment you just want to go home, curl up in bed and cry because you're missing something so bad right now, but if anyone were to ask, you can't give them an answer that sounds sane enough for them to not laugh or think you're not crazy.
Because let's face it, the fact that you're obsessing over someone or something that you have zero knowledge about, is pretty insane.
"ID's please." The bouncer says as you walk up. You dig into your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping your id from its holder.
He checks it over, handing it back to you to move onto Cami. You wait for her by the door and when she walks through, you link your arm with hers, pretending that you're not ready to run home.
"Shots. Please!" She yells over the music and you sigh, "I'll do one, maybe two."
"We'll see." She giggles as she pulls you with her to the bar and rests her arms on the tall counter.
"Well hello ladies." The bartender walks up, "I'm Blake, anything you need I'll be happy to serve it to you."
Cami giggles, "Thank you, Blake. I think.. to start off, we'll do-" she pauses for a second, "Six teq-"
"No." You say quickly and she sighs, "Fine. Six vodka shots."
Blake smirks, "You got it." He winks at you before walking away and Cami leans in, "He is so hot." You shrug, "He's alright."
"Alright? Are we seeing the same guy? Y/n. He's into you!" She nudges your side with her elbow, "Get his number."
If he, as so little as it may seem, gets your number, I will snap his neck in front of everyone.
"No." You snap at Cami, "I'm not giving him my number. And you aren't either."
She scoffs, "Is this about the little crush you have on that character in your book because if so-"
"Cami." You roll your eyes, "no it's not about that okay." She turns towards you, leaning against the bar, "Then what's it about? Hmm."
You sigh and right as you're about to give her some bullshit answer, a guy comes up beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, "It's about me."
You look up and your mood instantly switches, "Sam! There you are."
"Here I am." He smiles as he looks down at you, "I told ya I'd meet you here."
Cami shakes her head, "Wait." She points to Sam, "Who is this and when did you meet him?"
"Cami, this is Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street." The words seem scripted to you, but you didn't really pay attention to that.
You felt safe. Complete. Almost like this is the meaning to your obsessing and empty fantasies.
"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were talking to that other guy?" Cami tilts her head and you scoff, "You make it sound like I'm a whore, Cami."
She laughs, "Oh god, no. No, I didn't mean it-"
"It's fine." You laugh, "He knows about the other guy I was talking to. It just.. didn't work out."
Blake comes back and delivers the six shots on the tray. His eyes move to Sam, staying on him as he speaks, "Six vodka shots."
He walks away and Sam can't help but laugh, "I don't think he likes me."
"Well maybe it's because he was eyeing up your girl before you showed up." Cami grabs a shot and looks around for the others.
She waves them down, motioning for them to come over and they do. Singing along and dancing mildly to the music that's bumping through the club.
"Heyyy. Who's this?" Your other friend asks pointing to Sam. He leans forward, "I'm Sam."
"Sam. Sam. Sam." She laughs, clearly reaching her alcohol limit, and fast, "You gonna stick around?"
Sam nods, "I mean, yeah. I planned on it. At least until one of us-" he nods towards you, "- is ready to leave."
Your friend laughs, "No, no. I meant sticking around as in dating my girl here." Sam's brows raise and he nods, "I mean, yeah. Yeah. I plan on it, I mean. That's if she wants me to."
Your arm tightens around his waist and he smiles, "I think that's a yes." You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. As you're standing there, waiting for the shots to be distributed, you spot another oddly familiar face.
"Who's that guy over there?" You ask pointing across the bar. Sam leans down, "Which one, sweetheart?" You lean over slightly, "The guy next to the girl in the pink top."
"Oh that's Colby." Sam turns his head to look into your eyes, "You recognize him from back at the bar, he's a good friend of mine." Sam looks at you and you nod, "Oh okay. Yeah that makes sense. Maybe I do remember him."
Sam smiles and kisses your temple. He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, remembering what your blood tasted like on his tongue.
His hand grips your hip tight, loosening as he takes a shot glass from Cami, "Thank you."
You take yours and wait for Cami to tap hers against the bar. Everyone follows, tapping each glass against the wood before knocking them back.
Everyone cheers, pulling each other onto the dance floor. Sam takes your hand into his, pull you with him before spinning you around to press his chest against your back.
His hands slide down, gripping your waist as you move to the beat of the song. Your head rests back onto his shoulder and he rests his cheek against yours.
Your arm slides up, wrapping around his neck and you spin around to face him, your other arm moving up to interlock your hands behind his head.
"You're so beautiful." Sam says which causes you to smile. He brushes hair from your neck, subtly inspecting the now healed bite mark. He lick his lips, tilting his head as his eyes meet yours again.
"Does your friend need a dancing partner? I can send Cami over to talk to him?" You tilt your head and Sam chuckles, "Nah, I think he'll be alright."
"Girlfriend?" You ask and Sam shakes his head, "No."
"Oh, is he gay? My friend Curtis ca-."
Sam laughs, "No, no. He's not. He just.." he brushes hair from your face, "He has his eye on someone very special already."
"Good for him." You smile, pulling Sam closer. Sam nods, "Yeah, it really will be good for him." He leans in, lips connecting with yours and its sparks.
Bright sparks, hell. Those are fireworks.
"I don't want to leave you." You admit, "Sorry if that w-"
"I don't want to leave you, either." Sam cuts you off, lips connecting right back with yours. You lay your hand on the back of his back, sliding the other one down his chest and pushing away from him, "They're all coming back to my place, so I hope that doesn't change anything."
Sam shakes his head, "doesn't change a thing, baby."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You giggle slightly to yourself as you dig for your keys, "I hope I grabbed them."
"I'm sure they're in there." Sam says giving you a smile. Cami pushes between the two of you, "Do you have them?"
Sam glances at her and back to you, "She's looking for them."
You look up at her, "Can you move your head, you're blocking the light." You try not to laugh but fail, causing her to laugh which spreads throughout everyone else.
Sam shakes his head and you pull out your keys, jingling them as you look back, "Found them."
They all cheer and you unlock the door, pushing it open before you drag Sam in with you.
You set your bag and keys on the counter before turning to face Sam, "Do you need a drink or anything?"
He licks his lips, brushing hair from your neck, "I do, but I'll get it then."
"I can get it fo-"
He cuts you off, "I'm fine, sweetheart." He smiles, "Come on, let's go sit." He takes your hand into yours and pulls you towards the couch.
You sit on his lap, looking back at Cami and your other friends who are raiding your fridge. She gives you a look and nods towards your room.
She walks over stopping at the door way, "Y/n, can you come help me unzip my dress."
You look back at her, "Oh yeah." You get up, sliding your hand along Sam's shoulders as you walk around the couch.
Cami pulls you into your room and shuts the door, her voice is quiet, "Don't you think.. Sam is.." she trails off and you tilt your head, "Sam is? What, Cami?"
She waves her hands in a circle, "I don't know, he seems a bit.. controlling."
You laugh slightly, "What do you mean?"
"The way he just pulled you over to the couch, I mean you were just trying to offer him a drink." She shrugs, "I don't know, it just.. you just met him, we just met him, and he's already back at your place?"
"I don't understand what you're saying? You do this all the time, cami." You cross your arms, "Do you want me to kick him out?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all, y/n. I'm just saying that I get a really weird vibe from him, he just.. he seems cold." She shrugs, sighing as she turns around, "Can you unzip me quick, though please?"
You roll your eyes, reaching up to quickly unzip the dress, "I know you're just trying to look out for me, but something about him just feels.. right."
She turns around, leaning down to grab her bag, "ultimately it's your choice at the end of the day, but I'm just saying be careful. I just didn't like the way he drug you over to the couch."
"I think you're being a little dramatic." You laugh, "Now change, and come out so we can watch a movie."
You walk over to your door, opening it to walk back over to the couch. Sam greets you with open arms as you sit back down on his lap, "Everything okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, her zipper was just stuck in some loose string from her dress."
You didn't have to lie, Sam already heard everything.
"Dress okay?" He asks and you nod. He plants a kiss to your cheek, "Good."
Cami walks back out, coming over to sit next to you, "So, what movie are we watching?"
"Something funny. Oh!" Cami snaps, "Why don't we watch Vampires Suck? Have you seen it?"
"Isn't that the movie that's based off of Twilight? Doesn't actually suck?" One of your friends say, and Cami nods with a smirk as she leans forward to grab the remote, "Yes, it is, and it's supposed to suck on purpose. That's the whole point."
Sam chuckles shaking his head, the thought of watching a bad vampire movie was so cliche to him.
Cami turns his head, leaning out to look at him, "Is that alright with you?"
He looks at Cami and nods, "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Cami." You sigh, "Just play the stupid movie." She sighs quietly and presses play, tossing the remote down next to her.
A little bit into the movie, you lean in to Sam, "I'll be right back, I have to go to the bathroom." He nods, giving you a smile as you get up.
You walk to the bathroom closing the door and as you look at yourself in the mirror, your mind shifts from Sam and you zone out.
"You're just.." Colby smiles, brushing hair from your face, "So pretty."
You smile, a blush rising onto your cheeks, "Thank you, Colby." He leans in, "I've honestly never come across anyone as pretty as you."
"Okay, now you're just saying stuff." You laugh and he shakes his head, "No, I'm not. I'm being serious. I've seen hundreds of faces, and yours is my favorite one of all."
You look away, laughing slyly, "Colby."
He grips your chin, turning your head back to face him, "I'm being so serious right now. I'd risk fighting Lucifer himself to be with you."
"Lucifer?" You question and Sam's voice pops up, "Colby. That's enough. Knock it off."
You look around, unable to spot Sam..
Your eyes focus on your figure in the mirror, blinking a few times before you continue to do what you went in there for.
You open the door, flicking the lights off as you walk out.
"Hey I think I'm going to head out." You look up at your friend as you sit down next to Sam and Cami, "Are you good to drive?"
They nod, "Oh yeah, I feel fine. I'll text you when I get home."
"Okay. Be careful." You smile and they nod as they walk out.
A little bit later, two more friends leave, then another one, leaving you with just Sam and Cami.
"Is it just me, or were they acting kind of weird?" You look between them and Sam shrugs, "I know they were getting tired, probably didn't want to have to sleep on the floor." He teases them reassures you, "I think they were good."
Cami yawns and stretches as she leans forward, "Yeah, I think I'm going to head home. I forgot I had an appointment early in the morning."
"But it's Saturday?" You question and she shrugs, "Yeah. There's one that has certain hours."
"Oh." You nod, "Okay." Your eyes follow her as she gets up, walking over to grab her back, "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!"
"Yeah, okay. Love you, too." You watch her shut the door and then you slowly look over at Sam, "That was so weird."
"Maybe they just settled down, got tired from the alcohol?" Sam suggests and you shrug, "I mean, yeah. You're right." You laugh, "Sorry I'm just-"
There's another thump, almost like the same one at earlier on in the day.
"That happened earlier." You look back, "Hello?"
"Maybe it's your neighbors?" Sam stands up, "I'll go check, maybe someone else did leave."
You nod, turning around to watch as he walks back to check the rooms. He comes out of your room and shakes his head, "No one's here."
You nod, continuing to watch as he then gets this annoyed look on his face and he sighs, "Fine."
"Sam?" You slowly get up, "Who are you talking to?"
"No one, I just-" he laughs, "I have something to tell you."
Your heart starts racing and you feel like your chest gets heavy, "Oh god." Your mind starts racing through every single idea that could potentially happen.
He had a plan this whole time. Gain your trust, get your alone, murder you.
He chuckles, "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to murder you."
Your head snaps towards him and you point, "H-how did you-"
"I can read your mind."
His words catch you off guard, "Y0u ju- you can r-" he pause, closing your eyes as you rest your forehead in your hand, "What the fuck is hap-"
You look up, gasping when Sam is right in front of you, "Shit." You go to step back but Sam grabs your wrist.
As scared as you want to be, when he touches you, it's like all your fear washes away and you want to do anything in your power to keep him with you.
"Listen to me." Sam's voice is soft, "I have to tell you something, but I need you to not freak out." He looks into your eyes, "Okay?"
You nod your head, "Y-yeah. I guess I can try."
"Come." He motions towards the couch, "Have a seat."
You walk over, sitting down. You turn your body towards him and rest your hands in your lap. Sam leans back, casually extending his arm over the back, "I made your friends go home."
"Huh?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean you made them leave?"
He shrugs, "Because we were getting impatient and they were just being massive cockblocks."
You sit in silence as you try to process his words, "We?"
Sam nods, "Yeah, remember Colby from the bar?" You nod slowly, "um, yeah. Yes." Sam nods, "Well he's here, too."
You whip around, looking for him, but you don't see him, "Where?" You turn back around, heart racing faster, "Why is he here, too?"
Sam stares at your chest, biting his lip as he pushes the thirst for your blood out of his mind, "You can't see him, he's hiding himself."
"Hiding himself?" You run your hand through your hair, breathing out a quiet, "Fuck."
After a moment of silence, Sam speaks up, "Do you want to know what happened at the bar?"
"I know what happened at the bar. I met you, we talked had a drink, I went to the bathroom then came out and walked with my friends down the street to another club." You look at him and he smirks, "No, sweetheart. Do you want to know what really happened?"
"What really happened?" You question and Sam leans forward, looking into your eyes, "When you remember, you won't make a big deal about it."
You nod and Sam tilts his head, eyes still on yours, "Remember."
You freeze as your mind plays what actually happened at Bar Eight.
Sam compelling you to say yes to his question. Following Sam to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the sink and being told not to make a sound.
His teeth sinking into your neck and you can almost feel the pleasured pain he caused you as he sucked your blood from your neck.
Colby emerging from behind Sam as your vision goes hazy.
Everything flows if, filling the cracks with missing information and you're left speechless.
You blink, your eyes moving to look at Sam. The only words you can form leave you more shocked as they leave your lips, "Y-you're.. a vampire?"
Sam smiles, nodding his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Correct."
"And Colby?" You raise your brows and Sam tilts his head, "He's a demon."
"A de-" you shake your head, "No. I'm dreaming I can't- this can't be real." You stand up, placing one hand on your forehead and the other on your hip, "I'm having a really, really weird dream."
"Hate to break it to ya, babe." Colby's voice startles you as he walks around from behind you. You jump, stepping back as you look at him. He holds his hand out, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."
He chuckles, "But you're not dreaming. You're awake, and we're here."
You slide your hand down, resting your fingers over your lips and your mind starts racking up questions.
"Yes, we're why you felt guilty after going to Tara's party." Colby nods, "And why you felt so obsessed over, well.. nothing really."
"It wasn't really nothing, y/n. We made it so you were, what? Colby. I don't even know what you'd call it." Sam looks to Colby and Colby purses his lips, "Mm."
He snaps his fingers and looks to you, "Love sick."
"We made you love us, without even knowing us. That's why you felt so comfortable with me at the bar, we'd basically manipulate your dreams so you'd know who we were, but someone.." Sam trails off, glaring at Colby before looking back to you, "Thought it would be best if we made it so you couldn't remember when you woke up."
You can feel your legs shaking below you, "And the making me do things? What.. what's that?"
"Oh the compulsion?" Sam nods, "Yeah, that's my favorite thing about being a vampire." He laughs, "I can make anyone do anything I wanted."
"So you.. compelled me.. to.." you point to your neck and he nods, "Yes."
"Why?" You stare at him and he shrugs, "Come on, if a stranger came up to you and said follow me to the bathroom, I want to bite your neck and drink your blood, would you have honestly, willingly gone with?"
"I mean, no but- wait." You point to Colby, "You don't like my blood?"
He sighs, "Ah, yeah. That."
"He could rip you apart if he really wanted to." Sam laughs and Colby rolls his eyes, "So could you, Sam."
Sam nod, leaning back to bring one of his legs up to least on his other one, "That's true. I could tear you apart if I wanted."
Sam is in front of you within the blink of an eye and you lean back slightly. His arm snakes around your wait, hand planting on the small of your back, "But I think you are just.. the sweetest thing."
There is absolutely no fear in your body, and they both know it.
"Why me?" You ask, your breathing growing faster as Sam slides his other hand up your arm to push your hair out of the way, "Why not you?"
His fingers run over the spot he had previously drank from before, "You have such a pretty face, on a pretty neck. You drive me crazy."
He leans in, lips gently pressing against your skin before tilting his head up, "Tell me you don't want me right now. Tell me you don't want us.. right now."
"I-I." You gasp as you feel Colby appear behind you, his hands sliding onto your waist. You bite down on your lip, "Are you going to hurt me?"
"Not unless you want us to, baby." Colby chuckles, "We're here to pleasure you. Make you feel things you've never even thought of feeling."
Colby presses his chest against your back and Sam tilts his head, "We don't take orders from anyone.." his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, "But you."
A rush of excitement washes over you and they both chuckle, "she's excited." Colby whispers, "I can feel it."
"This is so fucking weird." You laugh, still slightly in shock, "Oh my god."
"What do you say, sweetheart." Sam looks into your eyes, "Will you let us be your sickening desire?"
Your lips part open as Colby's lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your neck.
You had to admit, the devils voice is so sweet to hear.
Along with them being pretty cute for being, what others would consider monsters.
"You think we're cute?" Sam teases and you sigh, "My thoughts aren't safe anymore are they?"
Sam shakes his head, "Not at all, babe."
"You share them with us now." Colby whispers, "So are you going to answer Sam's question. Are you going to let us show you what an exhilarating ride it is to dance with the devil?"
After taking a moment to think, your eyes meet Sam's and you nod, "Take me."
"As you wish." He lifts you up, walking over to the couch, "But before we start. Can I have that drink now?"
"So that's what you meant?" You bite your lip and he nods, "Uh huh. Exactly." He looks over at Colby and when you look over at him, he's gone.
Sam turns your chin back towards him, "He's not too far off." He winks and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him as he leans up, mouth close to your neck.
Your hands grip the collar of his shirt, preparing for the initial piercing of your skin.
"Tell me when. You call the shots." Sam whispers and you nod, "Go."
You let out a whine, tilting your head to the side as his fangs sink into your neck.
Your fists tighten with his collar still balled up in them, and a moan slips through. Sam wraps tightens his arm around your waist, groaning against your neck.
The euphoric feelings rushes in, causing your arousal to spike.
You need him, and you needed him bad.
Your mind dances off onto the topic of Colby, thinking about how good he looks in the black leather jacket.
How his dark demeanor intimidates you, but also turns you on more than anything.
"Fucking hell, babe. You taste fucking good." Sam leans back, fangs still out as his licks the blood from his lips.
Your eyes gaze over his face as you slide a hand up, wiping away a bead of blood that's getting ready to drip. You drag your finger up his chin, slowly placing it in his mouth and you gasp when his lips wrap around it, sucking your flood off your finger.
"I know I should be scared but.." you bite your lip, pulling your finger from his lips, "I'm not."
"We don't want you to be scared." Sam whispers, "We love you."
Without any hesitation, "I love you both."
"That's the way we want it." He smirks, looking over your shoulder, "You good, Colbs?"
"Oh yeah." Colby answers from behind, "Clean her up. I want my turn with her." Sam smirks and licks his lips again before leaning forward.
A shiver goes down your spine from Colby's words and Sam's tongue gliding over the fresh puncture wounds.
A little whimper leaves your lips, "Please."
"Soon baby." Both say in unison.
"Stand up for me, princess." Sam says and you stand up, slightly wobbly. Colby moves behind you, sweeping you off your feet, "You'll get used to that the more it happens."
You stare up at him, captivated by how a demon can look so pretty.
"I'm not in my true form, sweetheart." Colby smirks, walking you into your room, "Maybe one day I'll show you."
"What do you look like?" You ask and Colby lays you on the bed, "Let's not talk about that right now." He licks his lips, pressing them to yours.
Your hands move to his neck, moaning quietly against them. He slides a hand down, slipping it under your shirt, earning a moan as he toys with your nipple.
You tilt your head back, arching your back as he pinches a bit harder.
You wonder where Sam is, and he instantly appears next to you, "I'm right here, princess." He smirks down at you and you bite down on your lip.
You had so many emotions flooding through your mind and body.
You have never, never felt like this before and that was part of their goal.
Colby slips his hand out, gripping your shirt at the top and tearing it with a smooth glide, exposing your chest, "Mm. Naughty girl, not wearing a bra."
You bite your lip, looking down at him and he smirks, "I like it better when you don't." He winks and leans down, attaching his lips to one nipples while his fingers find the other.
A moan leaves your lips as you lay a hand on the back of his head, "Fuck."
Sam leans down slightly, laying a hand on your head and brushing it over your hair, "We've been watching you for a while now. Did you know that?"
"N-no." You whimper and Sam chuckles, "Of course not. We didn't want to make you love sick, we just needed a way to make you ours before we told you who we truly are."
Colby leans up, "You're the only sense of humanity we have."
"Really?" You look from him to Sam and Sam nods, "Really." You look back to Colby as you feel your jeans being unbuttoned. You lift your hips, eager for them to be off quicker.
Sam stands up, unbuttoning his shirt as Colby works on undressing you fully, "Shit, this is so fucking hot."
Colby smirks, chuckling as he slides his hands up your bare legs, stopping at the band of your panties, "You're more than ready for us, aren't you?"
You nod quickly, "Yes." You move your hips up and down, "yes."
"Taste her, Colby." Sam commands and with that, your panties are ripped from your body, tossed like nothing to the floor.
"Fuck." Colby groans, quickly getting into position with his head between your thighs. Your lips part as you watch his inch closer to you, biting down on your lip when he glances up at you.
He closes the space, his tongue gliding up and down your folds, groaning against you as he finally tastes what he's been anticipating.
Sam's eyes are heavily focused on Colby, watching as he eats you out, "Fuck." He whispers, hand sliding down to palm himself.
You slide your arm towards him while placing your other hand on Colby's head, moaning as your back arches, "S-Sam."
Sam's eyes move to you, instantly picking up on what you want to do for him. He discards his pants, his boxers quickly following, leaving him naked as he climbs on the bed.
He sits on his knee, resting back on his calves as he reaches down. His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it to wrap around his cock.
He lets out a relieving moan, bucking his hips as you squeeze and gently stroke him up and down, "F-fuck."
His chest rises and falls quickly as his eyes watch you touch him.
You look over, locking eyes with him as you moan. He focuses on yours, "Cum."
Your body tenses up as a wave of absolute pressure washes over your body, screaming out as you tug on Colby's hair, which earns a deep groan from him.
"That's it, princess." Sam moans, "Fuck."
You catch your breath, watching as Colby sits up. He moves up, attaching his lips to yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue that moves against yours.
Sam grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him as he moves to the end of the bed. Once Colby climbs off, Sam grabs your ankles, easily pulling you down so your legs hang down.
You watch as Sam drops to his knees, hooking his arms under your knees as he moves in. His tongue slips into you, groaning as you gasp, "Sh-it."
Colby gets onto the bed, biting his lip as he watches you take his cock into your hand without being told, "Such a good girl." He reaches down, running his thumb over your bottom lip.
You part them, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. He tilts his head, watching the sight below him.
He looks down at Sam, watching him devour you before looking back, "Use your mouth, baby."
You comply, you don't need any kind of compulsion to do anything.
It's all you.
You push his thumb out of your mouth with your tongue, lifting your head to allow the tip of his cock to replace it.
He gasps, moaning as he lays a hand on the back of your head, "More, baby. Take more of me."
You swirl your tongue, coating him in saliva before you push your head onto him more. You moan around him as Sam slips a finger into your soaked cunt, tongue swirling around your clit.
Colby fights to keep his eyes open, "Shit." He pushes your head down, holding it there as he thrusts his hips, "Doing so fucking good."
Your back arches and your moans are muffled. Colby holds still, allowing you to have control again.
You bob your head, pausing as Sam slips another finger in, curling them slowly as he sucks your clit.
"Fuck." Colby glances down at Sam and back to you, brushing hair from your face. You tilt your head back, taking a deep breath as you moan loudly.
Colby moves back a little, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Cum."
You whimper as your orgasm rushes in again, ripping loud moans and screams from your throat as you cum around Sam's fingers.
"Does that feel good?" Colby asks stroking his hand over your hair, "Looks like it does."
"Yesyesyes!" You scream out, "Fuck yes!"
Sam pulls his fingers out, standing up to lean down over you. Your eyes lock into his as he slips his two fingers into your mouth, "lick them clean for me."
Your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking them clean like he said. He drags them out, pulling your bottom lip down slightly as he leans down to kiss where he bit a not, too long ago.
He reaches up, gripping your chin as he studies your face, "I want to drink from you while Colby fucks you from behind."
You nod, "P-please, Sam."
"You don't have to beg, princess. Not this time." He smirks and stands up, walking around to lay on the bed, "Come here."
You sit up, turning around to crawl up the bed, straddling his lap. Colby moves behind you, hands on your hips as you lean down to connect your lips with Sam's.
You feel spit run down over your center, followed by Colby's cock rubbing it in before slipping the tip of his cock in.
You gasp into Sam's mouth and both of their hands hold your body still, "Feel good?" Sam asks lowly and you nod, eyes closed as you moan, "So good."
Sam kisses down the front of your neck, licking back up to under your jaw, "Think you can take both of us at once?"
His words surprise you and he chuckles, "Only if you want to try of course."
Colby pushes his cock into you, groaning as his fingers dig into your hips, "Shit." He bites down on his lip, slowly pulling out before starting to thrust at a slow pace.
You moan, looking down at Sam. He watches your face scrunch up as he slides his hand up to your neck, slowly squeezing.
"fuck, I can't fight it anymore." Sam groans as he pulls your hair back into a make shift ponytail, holding it with his hand, "Stay as still as you can for me, okay?"
You whimper in response, moaning from Colby's cock thrusting in and out of you.
Sam licks his lips, tilting his head to get to the side he hasn't bit yet. He pulls you in close and sinks his fangs into your neck.
You let out a small yelp, quickly covering it up with a loud moan. You fist the sheets next to Sam, pulling in them as you try to stay as still as you can.
Colby's grip on your hips is tight enough to where you know you'll have small round bruises from his fingers digging into your skin.
Sam sucks your neck, moaning lowly as lifts his head slightly. His eyes flick down to your neck, "I'll never get enough of you."
"I'm yours." You moan out quietly, "Both of yours."
"Who do you belong to?" Colby asks, "Say it louder."
Sam reconnects his mouth to your neck, making your vision go blurry, "Y-yours." You moan, screaming out, "Both, I belong to you both."
"That's our girl." Colby groans, "Our fucking girl."
Sam lifts his head, licking your neck clean and lays his head back. You stare down at him as Colby's thrusts come to a stop.
Sam reaches down, grabbing his cock to slide it into your cunt along with Colby's.
You let out a whimper as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate them both, "F-fuck." You hang your head down, whimpering as they both start to thrust, quickly finding a pace.
Sam slides his hand back up, cupping your cheek, "Tell us how good you feel."
"So.. fucking.." you gasp, "Good!"
"Do you want to cum?" Colby asks and you answer him immediately, "Yes, yes. So bad." A string of whines and moans leave your lips non-stop.
"Little bit longer baby." Colby rubs his hand up and down your back, "Doing so good for us."
Your eyes scan quickly over Sam's face. There's just something about the blood covering his chin that turns you on even more.
"Thank you." He groans out with a smirk. You smile, biting your lip as your brows furrow, "Oh fuck. Fuck."
"Think she's had enough, Colbs?" Sam asked eyes not leaving your face.
"She's earned a break." Colby answers and Sam pinches your chin between his pointer and thumb, "Look at me, princess."
You open your eyes and he locks his onto yours, "Cum."
Pleasure washes over you, causing your body to shake as it feels much more powerful than the last two orgasms you had.
You feel their cocks slip out of you and you cling to Sam, moaning and whining as you work your way through your high.
"That's it, baby. That's it." Sam whispers as he plants kisses on your face, leaving little spots of blood.
You slowly relax, breathing heavy as you roll off of Sam to lay on the bed.
"You know. You look so cute with blood on your face." Sam leans over and smiles down at you. You laugh slightly, too tired to even care.
You feel someone one wiping you off and Sam comes back with a clean face and something to wipe yours off with.
You didn't think they would do this, you thought they were just going to have their way with you and leave.
"Just because we're labeled as not good doesn't mean we don't care about the aftercare part." Colby smirks slightly and you smile, "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You have a lot to learn." He winks and pulls the blankets up over your legs, "And yeah, that means we aren't going anywhere."
"Mhm. We claimed you." Sam says lying next to you, he brushes hair from your face, "so does it all make sense now?"
You nod, looking between them, "oh yeah. Everything is so much clearer now."
"You're still in shock aren't you?" Colby asks and you bat the air, "not at all." He raises a brow and tilts his head, "We can tell how you're feeling, babe. No need to lie."
You sigh, "Okay, fine. Maybe a little bit."
Colby lays next to you on your other side and rubs your arm, "Do you have any questions for us?"
"Were those thuds I heard earlier, you guys?" You ask as you pull the blanket up a little more. Sam laugh, "Yeah, that was Colby accidentally knocking stuff over."
You laugh, "This is just.." you sigh, "I'm sure I have more questions, I just.. my brain right now is so scrambled."
"You're fine, princess." Sam smiles, "You need rest."
"Will you be here in the morning?" You ask and look between them. Sam nods and Colby smiles, "We're always with you."
Sam smirks, "You have claim on us now."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and let me tell you, it was A LOT. So let me know how I did!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken
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flametrashira · 2 months
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Pairing: Muzan x fem!reader
Content guidance: NSFW. Reader is a slayer. Kind of sex-pollen trope. The fumes from a failed blue spider lily formula make Muzan and reader really horny for each other. Hate fucking. Zero foreplay except for insults. Biting (reader biting Muzan) A lot of cum. Like... a thousand years of pent up cum. I was possessed when I wrote this. Approx 2.5 k words.
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As a demon slayer, a kinoto no less, you were able to sense the presence of demons nearby. The range of the ability was usually limited to approximately thirty meters, but it was a useful one, especially when avoiding an ambush. 
But the moment you set foot in that particular village you felt it immediately; crackling adrenaline, sinking dread, an instinctive raising of your hackles which told you a predator lurked nearby. And the range of it, the intensity, was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. 
There was only one logical conclusion; this demon was more powerful than any you had encountered. Possibly even an upper rank.
Forcing out a breath to steel your nerve, you followed the trail, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to turn and run. No. This was your duty, not only to the corps, but to every innocent civilian slumbering in the surrounding houses, completely unaware of the evil which lurked in their midst. 
And this monster was evil. Pure evil. You'd never felt anything so terrifying, so full of rage and malice. Its disdain for humanity flavored the air; bitter and ashy, like charred flesh. The scent strengthened, getting more intense as you followed it down moonlit streets and shadowed alleyways, until at last you reached an unassuming, well-kept home.
There was no doubt the demon had made its lair there, in fact, you could see him through an open window on the second floor apparently working on some kind of chemistry experiment. He looked like an ordinary, well-dressed young man, with wavy black hair which kissed the collar of his shirt, and pale porcelain skin which contrasted sharply to the crimson irises of his eyes. To anyone else he could have passed as a rather handsome human male, but not you; the dread was overwhelming and so was your compulsion to wipe the monster from the face of the earth.
“Who are you?” you whispered.
To stand any hope of victory against a demon so powerful, you needed to take him by surprise before he noticed your presence. There was no time to hesitate. You gripped the hilt of your katana, filled your lungs, and used your strength as a kinoto to propel yourself through the window, toward the wretched creature. 
***
Muzan felt your presence, sensed your intent, heard your fragile heart beating and the air rushing from your lungs. You were inconsequential; a mere gnat to be swatted. 
The glass flask in his hand contained a failed attempt at the blue spider lily formula, one he thought nothing of letting fall to the ground as he turned to strike you, aiming to cut you from the air and sever your head from your body in an instant. 
But the moment the vial shattered, indigo smoke filled the room, giving the air a peppery scent, coiling around you both and obscuring Muzan’s view. His claws swung through empty space as your blade sliced across his forearm.  
His rage boiled over. He had not been struck by a demon slayer since the Sengoku period, no one had gotten so close. Of course, even at your full strength, you had only managed to inflict the most inconsequential of scratches which healed in less than a heartbeat, but it was the principle of it. And you stood so confidently, so… utterly… bewitching.
Not since the Heian era had he felt such a sudden rush of heat through his body. Not since those awkward, humiliating years of puberty. An urge he long thought dormant– and beneath him– stirred, sending his demonic blood coursing toward his cock.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his cheeks burning with both shame and desire. 
Oh, the way your lips parted, the fire in your eyes, the way your breasts heaved as you took up a defensive stance, holding your katana with such grace and strength. He had to have you.
“My name doesn’t matter, demon,” you said firmly, spitting the last word like a curse and making his cock twitch. “Call me death, for that’s all I am to you.”
His breath faltered, choked by the desire that tightened his lungs as you charged toward him once more. Your katana was aimed for his neck and his instinct told him to strike. He lashed out, catching the nichirin blade in his palm and shattering it instantly, causing your eyes to widen in fear. Yet you didn’t falter in your attempt to end him, continuing your charge with your hilt still in hand, as though you had any hope at all of destroying him with a half inch of jagged metal. So helpless, yet so determined to wipe him from the face of the earth. He was almost impressed.
He was on you in an instant; your soft, vulnerable flesh pressed to the impenetrable wall of his chest, your pathetic heart thumping against his ribs like that of a rabbit as he held you in his vice-like grip. And your eyes; your eyes were near black, pupils so dilated he could scarcely see the color of your irises. Your breaths and his shivered in the pepper-scented between you; fractured and heavy, his own hard-won as though defeating you had taken any effort at all. 
Which it hadn’t. 
So why then was he breathless? Why hadn’t he crushed you? And why was his cock practically drooling precum just from the sensation of holding your body against his. 
“Let go of me,” you hissed. Redundantly. And… half-heartedly. 
It was as if you knew you should despise him, just as he knew he should despise you, and yet… and yet. 
The purple smoke from the spilled formula had almost dissipated, the tang of it still sitting in the back of his throat. Muzan’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him; his arousal was caused by the formula. That had to be it. The warmth penetrating every cell in his body, the throbbing discomfort in his groin, the urge to– no… he was above that. Fury coursed through him in equal measure; to think he was not in complete control of his body; the humiliation of experiencing such basal, degrading human want. It was vile. It was an insult to his very nature. And he was drunk on it. 
“I need to ask you a question, and you will answer it or your defiance will be your final act before all that’s left of you is a mere grease stain on the wall,” he looked down into the abysses of your eyes, noting your flushed complexion, and the way your lips parted as you stared up at him. “Are you experiencing arousal?”
A widening of your eyes told him he had struck a chord, but nevertheless you shook your head, even as your gaze dropped to his lips. “No. You sicken me.”
“Likewise. Your very existence irritates me.”
“I should cut your foul head from your body.”
Muzan’s lips curled into a smirk. “That you think you possess the strength to do so speaks volumes of the lies Ubuyashiki feeds you to convince you to sacrifice your life for his goals.”
“I’d gladly sacrifice my life to help end you. You’re a plague.”
When had the space between your lips and his been reduced to mere inches? When had your fingers begun to thread through the raven waves of his hair? Your breath fanned across his lips, as warm as the sunlight he had spent a millenia chasing. His heightened senses allowed him to smell the blood flooding toward your cunt, his mind’s eye painting perverse, exquisite images of your swollen, wet flesh. Gods, if he didnt take you then and there he would go mad. 
“You’re a blight on the world, Muzan Kibutsuji,” you practically snarled, your breasts heaving against his chest. 
And oh, the way your breath hitched as his hands slid down your back to the plush of your ass, hoisting you up to wrap your thighs around his hips. That sound would be burned into his mind forever. He came at once, cock spurting inside his trousers, staggering as you captured his lips with yours, kissing him so passionately he felt stirrings in his chest he had long thought dormant. 
He braced himself against something firm– the wall perhaps, or maybe the doorframe, he couldn’t tell. All that mattered was you. Damn you to hell. “It’s the chemical spill on the floor. It–”
“Just fuck me,” came your whispered demand as your rocked your hips, pressing the heat of your clothed cunt to the rigid length of his cock. You gasped and moaned at the pressure and he quickly found himself addicted to the sound. “I despise you from my very soul… but I need you to fuck me.”
He wasn’t even aware of precisely when he had begun to rut against you, finding a pace which matched yours, intent on drawing out your wanton cries and ragged breaths which he needed more than anything. 
Not even his hunger for flesh and blood set his teeth on edge quite so viscerally. All that mattered was the delicious press of your body against his, the way you gasped and cursed his name, the insistent tug of your fingers against the buttons of his shirt, tearing cotton, teeth sinking into the flesh of his chest. He hissed in pleasure, in outrage, in bliss, his claws making short work of the seat of your trousers, tearing apart your corps uniform, exposing the exquisite heat of your center. 
Manipulating his clothing took no effort at all. That was one thing to be grateful for. The stifling constraints of his trousers simply faded away in tatters, leaving him bare, already dripping his spend on the floorboards as he tilted his hips and let the glistening tip of his cock sit at your entrance. And without hesitation you thrust onto it, a silent cry pulling apart his lips.
Nothing could have prepared him for the warmth; your cunt impossibly soft and slick, squeezing his cock so perfectly he lost himself entirely. The doorframe beneath his palm gave way, cracking and splintering in his grip. It mattered not. He would fuck you until the house was rubble if that’s what it took to satisfy him.
***
Every cell in your body simultaneously despised and craved Muzan. And every cell in your body was alight with ecstasy. His hips bucked up into you, the lewd slap of skin on skin sounding throughout the room. Veins bulged in his forehead, ebony curls tumbled over his eyes. The space between his eyebrows was puckered in concentration. A snarl bared his fangs, handsome face mantled with pink as he fucked you hard, his desperation matching yours thrust for thrust.
Nothing mattered; not your principles, your allegiance to the demon slayer corps, the words of your mentors, or even the continuation of your existence beyond that moment. All that mattered was the way his cock stretched your cunt, and the cathartic brutality of his thrusts. You clung to him, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder as you came, pussy clenching and milking him.
“Ffffuck…” he hissed, gripping your hips and slamming you down onto him again and again as though you weighed nothing.
Some part of you suspected he hadn’t stopped cumming since the first moment you brushed up against him. His spend dripped from you, running down his inner thighs, foaming at the base of his cock, as though a thousand years of pent-up frustration was finally unleashed. 
He growled against your throat, more beast than man; his strength and stamina endless, his hunger for you outweighing both. 
A low chuckle emerged from him as he carried you across the room, the song of shattering glass and clattering equipment sounding behind you as he swept his experiments off the desk and laid you in their place. “If only your precious master could see you now,” he growled, tearing open your shirt and dragging his tongue up your torso from navel to clavicle, a grin curving his lips as you arched into his touch. His cock was still buried deep inside you, swollen and insatiable. His spend trickled out of you pooling on the desk beneath your ass, cool and thick against your burning flesh. 
“Don’t stop,” you found yourself gasping, rocking your hips to fuck yourself on his cock. “Harder.”
Muzan’s head lolled back, his throat flexing around a deep groan of bliss at the sensation, pale blue claws pricking the skin of your waist as he guided your movements, meeting each one with the pistoning of his hips. 
And gods, the sight of him; disheveled, deranged with lust, every inch of his pale, muscular frame exposed, fucking you as though doing so could salvage his damned soul. 
“Come again,” his tone both commanding and pathetically desperate. “I need to feel your cunt squeeze me.”
His order made your blood boil, and even as you told yourself you wouldn’t, you found yourself strumming your clit, his cum and yours helping your fingers to glide over your swollen bud. Sanguine eyes watched your movements, fanged teeth pressing into the cushion of his lower lip, eyes hazy with lust as he shivered through another orgasm, pumping you full once more. 
He chuckled as your pussy clenched around him, his fingers coming to join yours, stroking your clit, demanding your orgasm until at last you came with a cry, your fingernails digging into the firm flesh of his forearms, his cock throbbing inside you again as his back arched and he raised his face to the ceiling, gasping, “fuck fuck fuck fuu-hck…”
Finally, you found yourself able to draw breath. It seemed whatever had driven you to such a frenzy had worn off, and a faint buzz of satisfaction ran through your body. A gush of air hissed from Muzan’s nose as he pulled his cock out, his cum coating both of you and a pearly thread still connecting his tip to your entrance. 
“Mmh, a pretty sight…” he groaned, bracing his weight on the table. He squeezed his eyes shut and composed himself. “But what to do with you now?”
His pupils narrowed to vertical slits as he opened his eyes and gazed down at you, the malice which had initially drawn you to his lair once more thickening the air. There was no doubt that the demon king was dangerous and held nothing but contempt for all life. But as he rocked his hips forward, letting the slick, veined length of his cock slide over your clit, you matched the smile on his lips with your own. 
“More?” he asked.
“More,” you agreed. 
After all, you told yourself, it was important in war to know thy enemy, and sunrise was still a long way away.
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bioethicists · 9 months
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beer killed my father . he had a disease which destroyed his body and strained his relationships with his wife, his friends, and his children. Alcohol destroys everything it touches, theres a reason you see so many liquor stores in poor neighborhoods. don’t be fucking obtuse. Prohibition obviously doesn’t work, but I wish alcohol was taxed higher. And i want the CEO of Heineken on the guillotine right after Jeff Bezos.
before anything, i want to let you know that i am incredibly sorry about your father. alcohol has decimated entire generations of my family, played a crucial role in the neglectful family structure i spent the first 19 years of my life suffering under, + played a minor but not insignificant role in my brother's death. i would never undermine or dismiss that in anyone.
i used to feel very similarly to you, in large part because my mother is a recovering alcoholic who raised me to believe that alcohol is a magic poison which turns people into monsters + i, being her child, probably inherited a disease which would also turn me into a monster if i chose to drink. it's a deeply painful + understandable response to the pain that alcohol can cause.
my first question is, does alcohol really "destroy everything it touches"? are there not millions of people who engage with alcohol, in varying degrees of recreational use, who experience minimal or no negative impacts? or do you believe that everyone who drinks alcohol in any capacity is experiencing severe destruction in their lives as a result? does the existence of people for whom alcohol enriches their lives (or is a neutral presence) at all invalidate your experience, or your father's?
my second question is, you've identified that there are 'so many liquor stores in poor neighborhoods' (i would add there is a lot of alcohol in rich neighborhoods, just distributed in less stigmatized ways, like boutique wineries + fancy bars), do you think that companies are strategically attempting to create alcohol dependencies among poor people, or do you think that poverty creates the pain, hopelessness, + desperation which can fuel an alcohol habit (which is then exacerbated by intergenerational trauma + community alcohol culture).
i feel no allegiance to liquor companies- they absolutely do make the bulk of their profits off of people who are drinking in a way that is destroying their lives (unsure if i trust the exact scope of the research in that link but i trust the gist). however, liquor companies love the disease model, because it exempts them from responsibility. if alcoholism is truly a genetic disease, then liquor companies, bars, package stores hold no fault in the development of destructive drinking habits + community norms (natasha Schüll discusses this in her book about gambling addiction)- the people were already sick + would be getting it somewhere else, anyway, right? but as you have correctly identified, liquor companies help create the structures which turn alcohol use into an accessible + normalized mode of self-destruction.
my third question is, will taxing liquor help the real problem? yes, it reduces alcohol consumption, but does it reduce addiction? or does it make cheapskates like me say "i'm not fucking paying for that" while individuals who consume alcohol compulsively either eat the cost or turn to more illicit ways of obtaining alcohol. or, rephrased, is the problem that alcohol is too accessible? is alcohol a magical poison which turns 'normal' people into 'alcoholics'? alternatively, is alcoholism a genetic condition, unrelated to any outside circumstances, which is triggered by drinking?
or: is alcoholism one of many ways in which people who are experiencing hopelessness, pain, grief, poverty, trauma, etc use to numb themselves, harm themselves, + make life feel more bearable? at this point, i do believe there is at least a temperament factor which makes people more likely to use substances over other forms of escape (hence why my brother used substances while i turned to anorexia + do not struggle with substance use). are we actually addressing the problem if we make it more expensive (thus, mind you, further impoverishing people with alcohol addictions!)? or are we shifting the pain these people are experiencing to either other avenues (opioids, other drugs, totally different ways of coping which are often just as destructive) or an unregulated, underground alcohol market.
the way you are viewing alcohol, alcohol is a unique substance which is manufacturing or feeding illness in people in order to make them behave in ways which destroy their lives + the lives of others. the way i am viewing it, alcohol is a presence which can fill a void that is being created in people's lives as a response to structural, communal, or social suffering. when alcohol is painted as the cause of this pain, we are able to look the other way from a which world is structured to cause an immense amount of people to suffer needlessly. at the same time, the common sense observation that many of us engage with alcohol in ways which do not destroy our lives, as well as the knowledge that prohibition does not work, prevents the erasure of alcohol from public or private life.
who benefits from the belief that alcohol is a uniquely corrupting substance? what lessons did we actually learn from prohibition- is trying to do it to a lesser degree (make alcohol less accessible) actually going to do anything? when the price of opioids went up due to dea crackdowns, did people stop buying opioids or did the market flood with cheap + deadly fentanyl? is the problem that people are drinking or that they are suffering?
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valeriehalla · 6 months
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I don’t know what to do about the internet. It’s getting worse, and getting worse faster than I think any of us ever could have imagined even just six years ago. Tumblr shot itself in the heart at the behest of Apple, at the behest of whichever nameless evangelical finance perverts are in charge of credit card policy, whereupon people like me (artists and people who like art) fled in droves to Twitter, the present state of which I don’t have it in me to be funny about.
Even after that one-two punch, Twitter and Tumblr are still the only (major) social media platforms I can stand to use. I mean, they’re the last ones left where you can, for example, see posts that your friends have made. I might have said that that seemed like the whole point of social media; every digital elsewhere has now collectively agreed that it is, in fact, social media’s greatest flaw. Your friends like to hang out and post weird jokes and titty drawings — they don’t know the first thing about your favorite marketing trends, let alone your unslakable thirst for 30-second phone videos. We have to move on: I’ll die if I think about it.
Uh — I wanna let you in a little. Here’s where I’m at, okay? I’m working on this project. I like it a lot: it’s a writing thing and an art thing and a music thing all at the same time. I’m still struggling with art burnout, but every day I get to sit down and write or compose for this thing is an unending delight, so on the balance it’s been great to work on. It’s taken me a while to get here, though — I’ve blown past all my estimates about when it’d be done. Still, it won’t be much longer.
In the mean time, I keep having these compulsive worries. I feel that I should be posting, but the nature of a long-form project like this is that I don’t have anything to post. I tweet complete nothings now and then, as if to announce my presence, like a lighthouse pulsing in the distance. And every week the websites get worse. They’re bleeding out, and it feels like some of my blood’s in there, maybe. Like, maybe you’d call me naïve, but it wasn’t that long ago that I really, really liked all this online stuff. I never had the hustle culture mindset about it: by good luck alone I managed to make a living posting the stuff I wanted to post on the places I wanted to post it.
The places I liked to post don’t exist anymore. My experience of using the internet feels hostile, alien. The ground beneath all our feet feels eggshell-thin.
But I have to use the internet: it’s where my stuff goes. It’s where all of you are. Here is where art and artists and art-likers live.
The things I love live here, in precarity, as the saw blades and lava traps of our digital dungeon grow every day more numerous.
Anyway, what I’m saying is that the web sucks now, but as long as we’re here — and we will be here — I want to try loving it again anyway. I want to untangle myself from all this disappointment and expectation and try simply “vibing” again. I wanna use cohost more: I’ll even crosspost stuff to Tumblr like I keep saying I should. I’m making a cool thing and I should show it off! I should relearn how to draw a little doodle and post it without feeling like it’s a suboptimal use of my time or whatever!! I want to believe in what joy may find us, though our world be a dumpster.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
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𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)
read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)
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He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.
It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…
It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.
As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.
This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.
“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.
“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”
“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”
“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”
He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”
“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”
“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.
“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”
“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”
You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”
“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.
“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”
He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”
“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”
“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”
He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.
But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.
“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”
Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…
“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”
“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”
You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”
It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.
“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”
“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”
You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”
He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”
“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”
“Always.”
“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.
“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.
“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”
He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.
“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.
“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.
“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.
“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.
You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”
“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”
You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.
“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.
“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”
“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”
Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”
Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”
Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?
“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.
“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”
He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”
“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.
“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”
Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 
“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.
“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.
“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”
“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”
“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.
When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.
~
“I tried to clean up in here, but—”
“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  
“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”
“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.
He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.
“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”
“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”
“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”
“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”
“Who was it?”
That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”
“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.
“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”
You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.
“Is that—?” he began to ask.
“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”
“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”
You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”
You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  
For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.
You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.
“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”
“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”
You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  
He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.
“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”
“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”
“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.
“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”
He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.
In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.
“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.
“Yes— please—” you begged.
“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”
You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"
"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."
"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"
"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."
You bit your lip and nodded.
"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.
"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.
And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.
"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.
He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.
It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.
So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.
"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"
He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.
"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.
He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.
"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"
You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.
"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"
You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.
When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.
"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  
"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.
"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.
“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”
But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.
Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  
So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  
As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.
He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”
You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”
Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”
“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.
“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.
It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.
Someone that he never wanted to let go of.
“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”
One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.
But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.
As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.
This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.
For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.
“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.
“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  
“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.
“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”
He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.
He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.
“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  
“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.
“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”
He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.
“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”
“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”
“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”
“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”
“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”
“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”
You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”
“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”
“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”
“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”
"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”
“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.
Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.
For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.
“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.
“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”
“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”
The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.
“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”
“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”
“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.
“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.
But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.
He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  
“I don’t want this to end.”
You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”
“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”
“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.
“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”
“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”
It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  
But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.
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batmanego · 5 months
Text
Dear Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer whose product I consumed at 12 am last night desperately seeking relief,
I’m sure that this message will reach you in vain as the only way I can possibly imagine you committing such a transgression would be intentionally, on purpose, to be cruel, but I have to try anyway.
Are you aware that ‘mint’ and ‘cherry’ are two distinct flavors that do not need to become one within your liquid?
You can just choose one. It’s okay. I don’t need both. I’m not that greedy. In fact, I really barely need a taste at all. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, as I’m sure the natural taste of this medicine is awful, but honestly at this point you’re kind of overcompensating and creating something that might actually be worse than the alternative.
Whatever rogue alchemist you have concocting your brews really needs a talking-to because the experience I had last night was as follows: I could not breathe because there was so much coughing happening. I stumbled out into the kitchen desperate for any kind of intervention from a higher, medicinal power. I found your creation. It was bright red. Perhaps where my first mistake lay was that I did not have an accurate measuring tool by which to dole out your dosage. I had to eyeball it in a shot glass. Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer, I’ve never drank due to a history of addiction in my family, but consuming your products might drive me to it.
The first thing that I experienced was the sticky and unpleasant medicinal “cherry” flavor. I put cherry in quotes because I don’t think it’s at all accurate to how cherries taste, but it is red. So it has that going for it. This would have been bearable, if it was not for the fact that shortly after my tastebuds became acquainted with cherry (grimacing and shaking hands politely but uncomfortably) that you decided mint had to come along too, like some sort of wayward fraternity reject intent on crashing the party. My tastebuds recoiled. It was nauseating. I felt like I was going to throw up. I dry heaved at least once.
Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer, you are aware that in order for your product to take effect, it has to stay down, yes? People have to be able to stomach it. It should not make me compulsively go through the “I’m about to be sick” motions. It should not have an aftertaste that haunts my mouth for eight long hours during a fitful sleep (because your product did not even do what I wanted it to do) and reminds me of its presence in the morning.
Why did you do this? Why did you decide that these two flavors have to coalesce? Were you coerced into doing such a thing? Have you simply never eaten food before and don’t know what tastes are? Are you cruel and trying to punish me further? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m going to have to take two more eyeballed shot glasses of your repulsive, awful, mint-and-cherry’s-bastard-lovechild-bursting-out-of-mama-like-alien concoction tonight. I’m not looking forward to it. You sick bastards.
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