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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year

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One Bloody Morning

Summary: Spencer has the first day off in months, and Reader wakes up to her period.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Comfort

Content warning: Descriptions of blood and menstruation, cramps, etc.

Word count: 1.3k

Spencer has been rummaging in the kitchen and bedroom for the past hour. He's prepared for your plans, taking advantage of every minute of his official day off. He discarded his phone in one of his coats last night and has yet to even look in the closet it's hanging in.

But none of that is the reason you're awake. You��re frozen in Spencer’s bed, your back facing him as he thinks you're in bliss. He doesn’t see how you’re in the most humiliating state. And you don’t know how to rush to the bathroom without being noticed. Without all of it being noticed.

You understand, even if you make it out of bed and hobble to the other side of the room and jump into the shower, evidence will still be left behind. Evidence that you’re a woman who bleeds, and that's the last thing you want to remind Spencer of.

“Hey, sleepy —”

The scream you let out is piercing but quick. As you spring up from the blankets, Spencer jumps back. You keep the covers over your waist. Hiding.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” He takes a hand that came out of the blankets. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You tell him. It’s not. The scare pushed more out, and it’s long stained your nightgown. It'll seep into his white sheets with the mess. And although you’re well aware fresh blood comes out easy with a cold wash and an extra cycle, the tears start to cloud as your cramps pound at you like an angry neighbor at the door.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer cups your face and your tears fall as soon as his skin touches yours. “I should have been more careful. I genuinely thought you were still asleep and I wanted to wake you up myself."

“No.” Is all you can choke out. Your esophagus is thick with embarrassment. “No.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He crouches to meet your eyes. You can barely return the gesture. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No.” You remain present enough to catch a breath but try to keep others following so you can hopefully say something else in a convenient amount of time

Spencer, however, given his limited knowledge, does not know what to do except the thing he usually does when you’re in this state; he hugs you. Tight.

And that is, of course, the one thing that doesn’t help. The feeling of your organs pressed against his chest is torturous as he tries to show you love, to show you how upset he feels about his actions. Because, thanks to your extensive vocabulary, he thinks he is the reason you’re acting this way. What else is he supposed to think?

You can’t take it anymore, and it pains you to push him away as you say “Stop.” The relief is slight but the shame only grows as you pull your legs out to rest your feet on the floor. You mentally prepare to reveal it all as well as stand. The sharpness in your lower back feels like Spencer was trying to hug you with his hands balled into fists and not calming flat palms.

Spencer follows you as you gather the strength to stand. The palms of your hands rub tears and leftover sleep from your eyes. But you still can’t look at Spencer. Instead, you gaze at the lamp on the nightstand next to you. Nothing is impressive about it, and you remember that as you push the blankets back.

Spencer says nothing.

You cup your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry.” And a sob breaks through.

Spencer is still quiet. And even though he never jumps to anger, you’re still afraid to look at him.

Nevertheless, you do, as the silence only becomes more deafening with the passing minutes (or what feels like minutes).

Rather than anger, Spencer’s eyebrows turn down as he looks at you. His lips parted before he asked. “Are you okay?”

As if your heightened emotions hadn't exposed you enough at the moment. Standing alone adds even more pressure to your back, and the stickiness between your thighs is something you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“That’s a dumb question.”

“No, n —” You avoid repeating yourself for the fifth time. “It just… came. I usually feel it when it’s on its way but this time it —”

Spencer’s hands caress your arms. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’ll throw them in the wash while we’re gone, okay? I know you’ve prepared the picnic stuff."

“It’s 9:22 in the morning and 84 degrees today. We’ve got time.” His hands rub your arms gently, creating slight warmth as he moves. “Now, what do you need?”

“A shower.”

“Okay.” His hands leave your side and he steps back. “Go ahead. I’ll handle this.”

“I can —”

“Ah.” He holds his palm up, causing you to pause. "Shower now.”

Spencer isn’t the type to adopt an authoritative voice with you, but you can’t admit you don’t dislike it. You note it, for future use obviously.

But for now, you try to walk (for the love of God, do not waddle) to the bathroom. The sounds of the sheet corners springing back to the center are all you hear before closing the door. You shimmy out of your delicate gown and let it drop on the tile. You don’t look down at the carnage; focus on the faucet. You lean over the tub and let it pour out water and steam, blessing your skin already.

When you step in, the clear water hitting your skin already fades into a pink shade. Bits of dark tissue follow the flow to the drain. A drop doesn’t touch your hair because cleanliness is all you need. The heat, although pricking your skin, soothes your back, nearly wiping out your pained muscles. It doesn’t even matter when steam takes up more air than oxygen.

“Yeah.” You reply. A few seconds pass, and you remember you didn’t grab a towel before stepping in. Lucky for you, Spencer has a small bathroom, so you lean over just far enough to open the door.

Spencer knocks on the door, and you can barely hear it. "Hun, are you doing okay?”

And of course, he’s standing there, rolled towel in hand. He even holds it up like a serving tray with his signature dorky smile and raised eyebrows. “Fresh from the dryer," he said. He hands it to you to cover yourself. And he gives you the discretion of not looking at your nightgown discarded on the floor. Instead, as you step out, wrapped in more warmth, he sits on the tub lip.

“Thank you.” You tell him and grin.

He smiles back as you walk to the mirror, brushing the steam with one hand. He watches your every move, admiring you for all you are, even in pain.

“You okay?” you still ask. There’s something, something else.

Spencer bites his lips closed for a moment. “How long were you awake?”

You shrugged. You look at him only through the mirror. “Maybe 20 minutes.”

"Hm." He glances down, at the nightgown between you both. “I wish you had told me.”

“It’s never not embarrassing, Spencer, no matter how many times it happens. For most women I know, at least.”

“Well, I mean,” he swallows. “I am a doctor, so.”

“A psychological kind, though.”

“Who also deals with dead bodies, blood, and other bodily fluids, common and uncommon, daily."

You don’t say anything. The horror stories he tells with enthusiasm from a scientific perspective (his words) prove his point enough.

“Honey, there’s nothing your body can make that can disgust me.”

“Even a baby?” You joke.

And he chuckled. Thank God, he didn’t want kids either. Not in his line of work. “It’s clear your birth control is effective at least.” He gets up and walks toward you, bridging the gap. Before his hands meet your waist, he looks at you in the mirror and waits. You nod, and he gently wraps his arms around you, his head pressed against your damp shoulder. “You can tell me anything.” He kisses the skin. “When you want me to help, let me know. Okay?”

Despite the awkward angle, you kiss him with relief, winding strands of his hair in with your fingers. “Okay.”

1K notes · View notes

mintwithchoco · 8 months

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[CYMX-461] "My Roommates And I Were Playing Monopoly And Suddenly, One Of Them Lets Me Fuck Her Ass To Pay The Rent! Will My Other Roommate Be Okay With Us Fucking Right In Front Of Her?"

LOOΠΔ/ARTMS/ODD EYE CIRCLE Choerry x LOOΠΔ/ARTMS/ODD EYE CIRCLE Jinsoul x Male Reader

Word Count: 5424 words

Categories: smut, anal, masturbation, oral, more anal, threesome, squirting (?), just pure anal, commission

Commission Details: a big-sized of mint choco ice cream (2k-4k words)

Trigger Warning: mentions of alcohol

aff link

"Come ooooon, oppa! It'll be quick, I promise!" Yerim said while dragging you to the photo booth.

"With this much stuff?" you said while holding up three plastic bags containing food and drinks for dinner tonight.

"Don't worry about it! Just a few pictures and then we'll be on our way home alright? Please, oppa? Pretty pleeeeease?" Yerim insisted, showing her puppy eyes while holding onto your right arm.

Goodness, she's so cute!

You sighed. "Last stop, then we're heading home."

Yerim squealed with delight. You both then entered the photo booth, her hands dragging you along by your arm. Yerim's impatience caught up with you before you could even put the plastic bags down. She quickly inserted some coins into the machine and pressed the shutter button.

"Get ready to take your photo!"

"Woah hold on—"

"Say cheese!"

◍───────

Yerim's heartful laughter resonated across the quiet street. It's been about ten minutes and still, she couldn't stop busting a gut over your face in the pictures you both took earlier at the photo booth.

"Are you done Yerim?" you asked, blatantly annoyed by her playfulness.

The dark brown-haired girl who was holding her belly began to calm down, before bursting out in another series of giggles once again.

"Sorry, sorry, I just can't get over how funny you looked in these photos oppa!" Yerim reminded you of the photos you both took just a little while ago.

They turned out great in her eyes, but not in yours. Yerim had different expressions and poses, while you looked silly in a few photos due to the sudden rush. One picture that cracks Yerim up was where you were just a blurry thing behind her.

"Well, if someone cared to wait for a little bit, then the pictures would turn out good!" you exclaimed.

"Hehehe, sorry oppa! I just wanted to make it quick. Besides, Jinsol unnie's probably waiting for us at home."

You looked at your wristwatch. "Oof, yeah, it's already ten. Let's hurry then, we don't want the tiger to show its fangs again!"

Yerim giggled. "That was unnie's fault! She didn't tell me about waking her up for class yesterday! You see, I-"

As Yerim continued defending herself about what happened the morning before, you both eventually arrived at your shared apartment after a few turns. Inside the apartment, Yerim then cheekily hopped on each staircase, leading up to the third floor. You tried catching up to her, but you're not taking the risk of potentially dropping the dinner for tonight — it was all on you as well.

The doorbell rang a couple of times, startling Jinsol who was watching a variety show on the TV. After clumsily falling off the couch because of the shock, Jinsol rushed towards the door to open it.

"Unnie!" Yerim shrieked out like she hadn't seen Jinsol for days.

“Jeez, you're so loud! You were only out for two hours!”

“And that’s enough for me to miss you!" Yerim instantly hugged Jinsol who had a mix of concerned and disgusted looks on her face.

"Bro, that's cringe," Jinsol answered, but quickly returned the hug.

You went inside the apartment quietly, unnoticed by the two lovebirds. You gave a low sigh after seeing the mess in the living room caused by the woman who was still stuck in Yerim's embrace. Jinsol loves building and playing around with Gundam figurines, but you're not a big fan of how many of the small parts are scattered around the house after she's done with them. Even after you have countlessly stepped onto them and screamed out in pain, you never really complained about it to Jinsol since you knew that she wouldn't listen.

That is the truth of living in this apartment with these two — Choi Yerim and Jung Jinsol. One is an enthusiastic and extremely extroverted girl with no shame, and another one is a quiet, dorky, and yet chaotic girl who was possibly a man in her past life. At the very least, your apartment doesn't feel too quiet with these two hanging around.

After cleaning a bit of Jinsol's work on the table, you put down the plastic bags and got out the four boxes of food, three canned beer, and a box of two strawberry cake slices.

"Stop getting onto my back, you're heavy!" Jinsol exclaimed.

Yerim whined, "Ah, you're so mean unnie!"

Both of them made their way to the living room with Yerim clinging onto Jinsol like glue, hugging her by the waist. Once you opened a box with tteokbokki inside, the smell disseminated into the air, making everyone in the living room drool. Jinsol didn’t waste anymore time as she jumped over the couch and sat down on the floor. Yerim joined in soon after, sitting beside Jinsol and grabbed a drink.

“Sheeeesh, this is a lot!” Jinsol exclaimed. “Can we even finish this? And cakes? Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with them, unnie?” Yerim asked. “I’ve been craving a cake for days! They’re also perfect for desserts!”

“Well, you better finish it! The fridge is already full from your yogurts and jellies. Can’t even store that beef tripe that I got from my mom yesterday.” Jinsol complained.

“You could just have a few to make more space, I don't mind! I can buy more!”

“I could, if the yogurts weren’t coconut flavor-”

You stopped the argument by letting Jinsol smell the box that you held in front of her face, the smell that she knew all too well — chicken feet. “Will this shut you up?”

Jinsol gasped and grabbed the box off of your hand. “For me?! You actually got it?!”

“As a thank you for helping me with my thesis the other day.”

"Bro, I said it was nothing, really. Thanks anyways!"

As everybody has their own set of meals, the three of you — mainly Yerim and Jinsol, enjoy the late dinner. It doesn't hurt to treat them once in a while, so you feel just as happy as they are. Not to mention, it's been a while too since all of you spent some time together in the house. Balancing work and study is already hard enough, and as cold as you were, you definitely don't want to add social life to the list.

"Oh yeah, can I borrow your notes from account class oppa? I forgot to jot down a few things." Yerim said in a muffled voice — her mouth was filled with food inside.

"Later, I haven't finished filtering it."

Jinsol looked confused. "The fuck? You filter your notes?" she asked, emphasizing the word 'filter' with her fingers.

"It means making the notes more readable for me."

"Mhm, that's why I like borrowing his notes! It's soooo much easier to read than Professor Haseul's slides!" Yerim butted in the conversation, her mouth still full with food.

"Wow, dude. I really gotta learn some stuff from you. Can I have a bit of yours?" Jinsol points to your food with her chopsticks.

"Help yourself, noona. I already ate a bit before this." Jinsol already took half of your kimbap before you even finished talking.

"With a certain… professor perhaps?" Yerim teased you and took a sip of her drink, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, I thought we were done with that!" you groaned.

"Doesn't help when you're the only male student that has ever been asked out by the hot and gorgeous Ms. Saerom herself!"

Jinsol was baffled once again with Yerim's statement, clearly showing her boomer attitude. She then asked, "How come that I don't know about this?"

"What the— you didn't know unnie?! It was hot shit in our class! It's like this…" Yerim then continued to ramble all about the embarrassing incident you had with the aforementioned professor with Jinsol who was weirdly interested.

Please, just end me now.

An hour has passed. Your ears were traumatized with Yerim's story and Jinsol laughter. What an eventful dinner, you thought to yourself. The three of you were finishing up on your dinner, mainly Yerim having to finish her cakes.

"Ooh ooh, do you both have anything to do after this?" Yerim excitedly asked.

You and Jinsol looked at each other before answering, "No, not really. Jinx!"

Yerim's eyes brightened up. "How about we do something together tonight? It's been a while you know!"

"What do you have in mind?" you asked.

Yerim thought to herself for a while, before her ears perked. She then quickly ran to her room.

"I still can't believe you rejected Ms. Saerom." Jinsol said, giggling quietly right after. You just shook your head in response.

Not long after, Yerim jumped out of her room and hopped towards the living room with a box in hand. "How about a game… of Monopoly?!"

You and Jinsol stared blankly at the box that Yerim held up in the air.

"I've got notes to filter." you said, and at the same time, Jinsol answered, "I gotta clean the toilet."

"Hey! You guys are no fun!" Yerim pouted, making both of you laugh out loud. "Come on now, both of you! Do you guys wanna play or not?"

You patted on the floor, signaling Yerim to sit down. "Alright alright, let's play. Sorry about that."

Yerim smiled and sat down beside you. You cleaned up the table, threw away all the food packages and cans while Yerim and Jinsol prepared the board game. Once you got back to the living room, Yerim and Jinsol were already counting the game's money.

"Oppa, which one do you want?" Yerim asked you to choose between the five tokens. With no thought in mind, you just picked one that resembles a hat. Jinsol then gave you the money for the game.

"Let's do rock paper scissors to decide our turn!" Yerim suggested.

"No no no, let's go by age." Jinsol declined Yerim's suggestion, in which she replied back with a head shake.

"Not fair, because you get to go first!"

"It doesn't change how the game plays!"

"The first player usually has a higher advantage to win!"

"And the first few Monopoly players went by age to play!"

"So then what? I'm not falling for your tricks again, unnie!" Before Yerim could press Jinsol further, your expression caught her eyes. The "I'm so done" expression on your face said it all — it's the girl's battleground and you have no right to speak. She immediately ended the argument as she doesn't want you to feel left out. "Y-You know what, oppa, you go first."

"Eh? So suddenly?" Yerim nods her head.

"Well, if you say so. I'm still gonna win though!" Jinsol surrendered as well. A bit odd this time since it usually ended up with either one of them winning, but you couldn't care any less. You started off the game as Yerim gave you the two dices, and it marked the starting point to an endless night.

─◍──────

Yerim was sweating. Not because it was hot, and not because of the beer she drank. It's because of her current situation. Two hours have passed, and her roommate has been on the road to taking the win for the game. Almost all the entire property on the board was owned by him, and it is clearly shown by how much money he has on hand.

"It's your turn noona." he said after buying a hotel on one of his properties.

"Man, this sucks." Jinsol whined and rolled the dice. Both of the dice showed a three — she landed on her own property! A silent "Yes!" was heard from her lips before she made her move on the board.

"That won't last for long." he teased Jinsol who just gave a sigh out of relief.

"You mean my luck? The one that won't last that long is your money! Your turn Yerim!" Jinsol fought back and took a sip of her can of beer, her words are as striking as an anime protagonist.

Throughout all of this, Yerim was lost in thought. Two things were running around her mind — her game and her crush. On the board, she was at the worst place, where any move she made was guaranteed to land on his property. Unless she rolls an exact number of 11 on the dice, she would have to pull a Chance Card. Her money was also running out, so if she got unlucky, the only option for her was to declare bankruptcy and lose, or plan B.

"Yah, what's taking you so long?" Jinsol snapped Yerim out of her trance. She was shaking up the dice inside her hands for almost a minute.

"Oh, sorry! H-Here goes nothing!" Yerim released the dice and it rolled to a number of five—

Come on, come on, come onnnn!

—and a four, totalling up for a nine.

Yerim was stunned. Amidst the laughter from Jinsol, she needed to think and act quickly. Is she about to lose to this board game that gives her no benefit, or take a chance that she'll probably regret in a long time if it goes wrong?

Fuck it, it's plan B!

───◍────

"Come on Yerimie, make your move~" you teased Yerim. Finally, this game is gonna end soon. I really need to sleep.

You noticed that Yerim's eyes were calm and her lips had a bittersweet smile — an expression that you knew very well. You and Jinsol call it the "I accept my fate" look and because of its rarity, you were a bit weirded out by her behavior. Especially that she had a bit of alcohol too. Typically at this point, she would whine about going to lose.

Yerim moved her token while counting down, "One, two, three, four,-" she stopped for a while, and continued, "-five, six, seven, eight, and nine."

"Well, well, well, looks like it's gonna be between the two of us now, noon—"

"Hold on!" Yerim cuts you off, the loudness of it shocked Jinsol.

"Ow, my goddamn ear— you've lost Yerim! What else can you do?" Jinsol groaned.

"There's… something that I can do."

"Like what, taking a loan—" Jinsol's eyes widened at the scene unfolding in front of her.

Without any hesitation, Yerim placed a hand on your shoulder, got closer to your face and connected both of your lips together. Jinsol's "Ehh?!'' was useless to Yerim's ear as she deepened the kiss. Meanwhile, you just eased into the kiss, instead of freaking out. Possibly because the beer has seeped into your brain, immobilizing you from denying her sudden action.

"Fuck my ass."

“Wha—“

The simple kiss then elevated to a make out, with Yerim acting as the guide to both of your tongues, twirling against one another. Your consciousness returns after a few seconds, realizing the state that you were in. As Yerim was pulling you in by the waist, sliding her hands under your shirt and feeling your body with her fingers, you begin to resist the fall into temptation— she's your roommate for heaven's sake!

Curse you, alcohol!

Yerim noticed how you were flinching around, obviously denying her actions. Putting a halt to the slightly forced make out, she smirked and whispered softly into your ear, "Don't worry oppa, I'm not drunk. I just wanna pay my rent."

"B-But Yerim, don't you think we should uhh…" Look beside you, and Jinsol was still there, with an annoyi— Wait, she's smiling?

"Don't mind me, just go on ahead." Jinsol said while getting up. "Don't go too rough on my Yerim, you hear me?" You nod slightly in response.

Jinsol then quickly made her way to the toilet, leaving both you and Yerim alone in the living room with your mouths open.

────◍───

Jinsol closed the toilet door behind her and leaned against it. She bit her lips desperately — it has been a while since she'd seen a view so hot, especially when it's her two hot roommates.

Jinsol once mentioned that she doesn't like both of her roommates in a romantic manner. In fact, she has taken an interest in someone else and made a lot of progress with them. However, when it comes to her sexual desires, no one truly knows how much Jinsol craves to get a good fucking, and she's not really picky about the details.

Fuck, how she just pulled him into it is so hot! Where did Yerim learn how to do that?

Jinsol lets her intrusive thoughts win as her hands slipped under her shorts and underwear, reaching towards her already warm pussy. A gulp down her throat, and she was half naked in an instant.

This is so wrong. What if they found out that I'm touching myself to them fucking?

Her denial was thrown out of the window as Jinsol's ear caught Yerim's low moans, letting her imagination run wild. It can't be helped that she has seen both her roommates in only their underwear once, so she only has to fill in the missing details. Hesitation was evident in her eyes but as Yerim’s moans become more vocal, it breaks her out of the shell of anxiety.

A quick one wouldn't hurt.

─────◍──

"I'm paying with my ass, oppa. Fuck my ass until you're satisfied."

Once the toilet door was heard closing, you both wasted no time making out once again. Being the fuel of this fire, Yerim tugged onto your shirt and moved herself to sit on your lap. You didn't back down however, as lust has taken over you, by grabbing her plump ass. The shorts that she's wearing were tantalizing at best. Her milky thighs were wrapped around your waist, evidently driving you nuts with a tent already forming in your pants.

"I've been waiting for this moment, oppa. You don't know how many times I've touched myself to you." Yerim words sent shivers down your spine, and more of it came right after as she pressed her lower body onto yours, letting you feel the warmth of her core. It seemed that Yerim did her research properly beforehand as she got out a small bottle of lube from the pocket of her shorts and placed it aside.

"Holy fuck, Yerim." Your head fell onto Yerim's right shoulder, enjoying the constant dopamine. You guide her hips by her ass, creating delicious frictions on each other's crotch. Whimpers and moans filled the room quickly, body temperatures were rising rapidly, and your undergarments were getting wet.

Yerim bit her lips, and with it came her anticipation. “Mmm, I knew that you were big after all oppa.”

Your hands did a quick work of taking away Yerim's shorts. Her moans grew louder as you were now free to fondle her bare ass. Your fingers slipped under her thin panties and were met with heat and slick, which further enthralled Yerim. The tip of your middle finger trailed down in between her ass and grazed over her pussy.

"Mmfh, that's it oppa! Touch me more!"

While Yerim undid your pants and underwear, you rubbed her vagina in circles, making sure she stayed wet and warm. Your cock plopped out, and throbbed with each sway of Yerim's hips. She then squeezed some lube on her hands and spread it all along your length to prepare you. Yerim begged and whimpered for you to put it in her ass as soon as you guided the tip of your cock so she could feel you fully.

“Please oppa, put that big fucking cock inside me! Please please please please ple— Ngh!" Yerim yelped as you smacked her butt hard.

"Shut up."

You rubbed your cock on her dripping pussy for a while, making sure that it was fully lubed up before penetrating the tight hole. Only the tip was inside her, but it gave such an intense reaction that both of your bodies jerked. Your hips lifted itself upwards slowly, and with it came a loud groan and your shaft getting deeper into Yerim.

When you successfully conquered her asshole’s resistance, Yerim wailed, immediately pulling you in for a hug with her face buried into the crook of your neck. Worriness seeped in as you felt a sudden wetness on your neck and Yerim breathing in and out profusely.

"You okay?"

“Sorry… this is… my first time.” Yerim said in between breaths.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Uhh, okay, I’ll pull out—”

Yerim suddenly sank her hips deeper into you, making you both moan and jerk once again. “Oppa, please… I’m okay. I like it.” She bit her lips again, her body reacting to each throb of you inside her, before reassuring you, “I’m yours for the— mmh! For the night. Treat me however you— fuuuuck~! Treat me however you want, please!”

Though you were hesitant, your body said the exact opposite as your hips began thrusting upwards. Both of your hands were on Yerim's sinful waist to guide the rhythm of your thrusts. There's too much for you to focus on — Yerim's lustful sounds, the tightness of her asshole, the delicious jiggles of her thighs, the alluring scent of her soothing fragrance, the way her frame perfectly fits with yours — it was all too perfect.

"Oh, fuck, Yerim-ah, Yerim-ah!"

"Ahhh, oppa! You like my ass oppa? You like fucking this tight little hole?"

Never have you nodded so quickly to a statement so true. The pressure that has been boiling up inside you was too much for you to handle already. But it looks like your playmate is already close to her peak, given by the mix of extreme pleasure that you're giving her.

Her body began trembling violently, followed by some incoherent curse words from her mouth and the spreading wetness on both of your crotches. Not caring how she is still induced in her orgasm, you pulled Yerim closer to your embrace as you chased your own as well. Enhanced by the feeling of her ample breasts covered by only her shirt on your chest, it was easier said than done.

"Fuck! Fuck! Yerim-ah! Yerim-ah!"

Yerim gained a sense of herself and screamed,"Yes! Yes! Cum inside me! Drain your balls inside this fucking ass oppa!"

The thrusting stopped after a while. One last scream of Yerim's name triggers the first burst of semen inside her. The second one fired deep inside her and it went along with her own orgasm once again. When the third and final shot was done, your cum seeped out of the tight hole, showing you how much you have filled your renter.

As your cock softened and freed itself, both of your bodies fell to the ground, drained by how intense you were. Together panting heavily and catching your breath, you both giggled after finally waking up to the euphoric high.

"Sooo, did I pay my rent oppa?" Yerim asked with an endearing smile.

You chuckled, swooning on the inside because of how cute she is, even in a messy state. "Yes, yes you did."

"Hehe, great! Oh yeah, Jinsol unnie is still in the toil— " Yerim was then interrupted by a loud scream coming from the bathroom.

You both got up quickly and looked at each other, confused by the sudden noise. Upon closer inspection with your ears, the scream turned itself into a desperate moan.

A devious smirk was painted on Yerim's face. "Oppa, you're thinking what I'm thinking?"

You nodded. Yerim stood up and handed out her hand to help you get up on your foot. Now in front of the door to the toilet, Yerim slowly opened it a little until a view was clear to her eyes.

"Ahh, fuck! Oh my god! I'm 'bout to cum! Ahh!"

Sitting inside the spacious bathtub was none other than Jinsol — bottomless, moaning away without a care to the world and furiously fingering herself to climax. Her eyes were closed as well, so it gave you and Yerim the advantage to sneak inside without her noticing. The mischievous girl then carefully stepped inside the bathtub and sat on the other end. Simultaneously, you were getting hard again by the sight of Jinsol masturbating and Yerim taking off her clothes.

Yerim began drawing near towards the opposite end, fully naked and ready to surprise her horny unnie. She bit her lips and grabbed onto Jinsol’s hand, “Aww, poor Jinsol unnie, touching herself alone in the washroom.”

Jinsol’s eyes were wide open in an instant. Her face flushed with embarrassment, froze upon seeing Yerim in front of her and you who was casually stroking your cock. “Y-Yerim?! It’s not what it looks lik—”

Yerim shuts Jinsol up with a forceful deep kiss. The forced one was resisting at first, but eventually fell into this trap of temptation laid down by Yerim. As they got up on their knees, Yerim removed Jinsol’s top, revealing her slim yet toned figure. Your excess cum from earlier begins collecting itself on your tip as you witness the two girls desperately touching each other while locking their lips together.

A gulp down your throat and soon enough, you took off your own shirt and left it on the tile floor. Yerim noticed how entranced you were and suddenly thought of an idea to spark things up. “Don’t just stand there, oppa. Join us."

It needed only two steps for you to be right in front of your two roommates, your cock flaunting itself hard and proud, close to Jinsol’s face. After exchanging a few more kisses, Yerim switched her focus towards you by stroking you gently, making Jinsol watch in awe as you throbbed under her touch. She then brought the tip close to Jinsol’s lips, letting your cum stain them.

“Go on, noona. Seems like he’s begging for you to suck it.” Yerim took the words right out of your mouth.

Before you know it, Jinsol’s tongue swirled around your shaft, gathering the sweet nectar flowing out of your slit. You threw your head back as she then engulfed your cockhead, sucking on it to taste more. At the same time, Yerim continued her gentle handjob and started to fondle your balls as well, stimulating it once again close to orgasm.

“Deeper, unnie. Yes, that’s it.” Yerim praised and patted Jinsol on the head.

You can feel Jinsol getting further down as her tongue slides against the underside of your cock, until the tip of it reaches your balls. Both of you moan audibly with both desires finally being fulfilled. You summarized that Jinsol definitely had some experience, judging by how steady and rhythmic her blowjob is. Her cheeks then hollowed, giving your cock a powerful vacuum suck.

After a few more bobs, Jinsol took her time to breathe and jerked you off. Yerim also gave some support to Jinsol’s handiwork by spitting some saliva onto your shaft, letting it spread all over. She gave quick licks on your slit and beamed over the taste of you. Meanwhile, on your side, your eyes were just glued to the two working for your pleasure. To this day, you never even foresaw this sight to ever happen in real life.

Jinsol then spoke out of the blue. “Get inside. I.. I need you.”

So fucking needy.

At last, the bathtub was filled as you positioned yourself behind Jinsol, making sure your shaft was almost in between her thighs. Jinsol moaned into Yerim’s mouth as you fondled her cute tits and tweaked her erect nipples.

“You’re so cute, noona. Whimper for us more.” you whispered into her ear and planted a few kisses on her shoulders.

Jinsol was pinned by the two of you playing around with her body, diffusing pheromones all over. Her hips squirmed as Yerim picked up where she left off earlier, teasing her wet pussy and you rubbing your tip on her asshole.

"Put it inside, oppa. Unnie must be dying to feel you."

With Yerim's guidance, you break Jinsol even more, entering her back door. Thankfully, the lube on your cock hasn't dried up too much, so it wasn't really painful, given by how tight Jinsol was. She was on par with Yerim in terms of tightness, but hers felt more warmer.

"Ahh! Yerim, he's so big!" Jinsol exclaimed, holding onto Yerim in desperation. She basically melted in Yerim's arms when you began thrusting from tip to hilt, which made Yerim smile. She loved seeing her unnie in full ecstasy as it turned her on a lot.

"Take it all in unnie. Don't resist." Yerim whispered into Jinsol's ear. She then grabbed the back of Jinsol's head and slowly guided it down her crotch while she laid down on the bathtub. Jinsol knew immediately what to do after seeing Yerim's glistening pussy.

A few licks in, and Yerim began squirming already. Her sensitivity heightened by the clear sight in front of her — her two older roommates having sex. Jinsol moved on to finger Yerim after having a taste of her core to release her expression being fucked.

"Fuck fuck fuck, harder!"

You obliged, increasing the pace of your thrusts into Jinsol. Her body wobbles deliciously when your crotch hits hers, signifying how hard you're messing her up. It gets even more intense when you're witnessing the two pretty girls making out and pleasuring one another right in front of you.

The three of you were full of sweat, exhaustion finally seeped into your bodies. A game night that turned into a wild sex night surely wasn't in your agenda, but you were glad now that it was.

"Ahh, ahh, ahh, fuuuuuck!!!!"

Jinsol let out a loud scream, her back arched and her legs trembled violently. The oldest one in the room orgasms before the two of you could even reach your own, given by how she's receiving double the pleasure. Her slick leaked out of her empty pussy, staining your crotch and Yerim's midriff.

Not long after, the knot inside your stomach grew tighter, your balls pressuring itself to release the tension. You then release yourself from Jinsol's confines and stroke yourself into your climax. A loud groan left your mouth, and alongside it came spurts after spurts of your semen. Two shots landed onto Jinsol's ass, while the last three covered Yerim's vagina.

Yerim was the only one who had yet to reach her own peak. As the first person who noticed it, you grab onto Yerim's waist and plunge yourself deep into her slit while your cock is still hard. Under Jinsol's body who was calming down after her high, Yerim replied to your action with a deafening scream and continued to do so as you thrust deep into her womb.

"Fuuuuuuuck oppa! I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming!"

The first thrust. Yerim's body shook violently. The second thrust. Her legs gave out. The final thrust. Yerim's eyes rolled back. The plugged hole was leaking out with Yerim's juices and eventually, squirting so hard that it pushed your cock out by itself. A series of pleasure cries left Yerim's lips, not caring how she's deafening Jinsol who was still on top of her.

You laid your back on the other side of the bathtub, gasping for air due to the lack of breath. Tonight's events were exhausting to the body, yet pleasuring at the same time. You then got out of the bathtub slowly and sat on the tile floor, close to the two girls who were basically cuddling each other, not caring how sweaty they were.

"You both okay?" you asked. Jinsol then gets off of Yerim and rests her arms by the edge of the bathtub, facing towards you. Putting her hand on your shoulder, she replied with a thumbs up.

"I'm fucking drained bro. Thanks for that." Jinsol said, and both of you giggled.

"T-Thanks oppa. It was amazing." Yerim said weakly.

"Can you get up?" you asked Yerim. Meanwhile, Jinsol was already out of the bathtub and finding her pile of clothes.

"No. I just wanna.. lay down here… just for a while…"

"Alright. I'll be here until you're okay."

"Okay, thanks oppa…" Yerim then drifts off to sleep almost instantly.

Both you and Jinsol smiled, looking at how cute Yerim was sleeping in the bathtub. Jinsol then left the toilet to sleep in her own room after wearing her clothes and wishing you a good night. You can't stand looking at poor Yerim sleeping uncomfortably inside the cold bathtub, so you carried her all the way to her own room and let her rest on her bed. After covering her with a blanket, you left the room silently.

"Nighty night, Yerim."

===========================================

note; thank you so much for the commission fellow anon! i spent waaaaay too long on this (seriously, it took almost a whole goddamn year 💀💀) so again, i would like to apologize for that. and because of that, i decided to make the fic a little longer than what they have requested as a lil bonus for the wait. oh, i also hopped onto the jav title trend with this but honestly, i think i failed LMAO

it was a rough process due to my hectic schedule, but i'm glad that i made it through. after all, this is my first commission so i'm still learning as i go through. i just really hope that you're satisfied with the end product as i have poured a lot of time and effort into writing this to make it worth your money. :)

talking about commissions, i will be opening them again soon once i'm ready so be sure to be on the lookout! as always, big thanks to my bros Byakko and @sinswithpleasure for the beta read help!

thank you for reading and have a good nu- i mean day! ♥

you're still here?

alright, come here, i'll fill you in on a lil secret.

ep 7 is petplay :)

#loona smut #artms smut #odd eye circle smut #choerry smut #jinsoul smut #loona #artms #odd eye circle #choerry #jinsoul #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #reader insert #male reader #commission

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munsonbrackets · 7 months

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Astarion x undying male reader

Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador.

Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.

So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.

But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.

So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you.

And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.

You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.

And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?

But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.

But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.

That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars.

“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.

“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.

“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”

You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.

“What happened to him?”

The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head.

Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.

“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”

You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.

Astarion swallowed harshly.

“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”

An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.

“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”

And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.

You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.

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happy74827 · 3 months

Text

Bring It In

[Sam Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After a rough hunt, Sam seeks your comforting touch.

WC: 1747

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Sammy!! My adorable pookie. God, he was so precious in the early seasons that I just had to write about him.

『••✎••』

Waking up to a shadow in the middle of the night, especially when you were staying in a motel that was miles away from any civilization, was never a good thing. Especially when you could feel it even before opening your eyes, its presence heavy on the air. It made your senses scream and your heart race.

The feeling of being watched and studied was not something a normal person would like to wake up to, and as you lay there in bed with your eyes closed, that feeling struck you right into your core, making your muscles tense. Adding into the fact of the complete awareness of the supernatural world you were a part of, that was just the cherry on top of the cake.

But as you lay there, your brain going at 100 miles an hour, you realize this instance wasn’t one of those life-threatening situations you were so used to. It was an oddly comforting feeling as the flashlight you flew into the darkness was caught in the hands of someone you trusted with your life, the same hands that have touched every inch of your body in a way you could never forget.

He had been hunting all night, you could tell. Although it was dark, and only the soft glow from the motel sign illuminated the room, you knew his clothes were covered in dirt and leaves, and his hair was a mess. He didn't care, though, as he walked closer to you, his eyes becoming clear as he turned the flashlight on.

Sam had a tendency to get into these moods. A mood where he needed something to ground him and remind him that the life he was living was worth fighting for. You had always been that thing for him, his anchor, and as he approached the bed, his mind was racing with everything and nothing all at once.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands reached out, touching you softly. It wasn’t sexual; he had no interest in that right now. He was looking for comfort. He just needed you.

You sighed, pulling yourself up from your position on the bed to get a better look at him. His eyes were tired and glistened over with some sort of sadness that he tried to keep hidden from you, but he knew he couldn’t. The tears reflected the moonlight that shined through the blinds and through the flashlight, and although the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than usual, he still looked at you with the most love you could imagine.

You didn't have to ask him why he was here, why he had been gone all night. You knew. He was a creature of habit, and Sam was very good at reading people. He knew when you were at your weakest when you needed him the most, and you did the same for him.

He needed reassurance. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, or else the guilt and shame would eat him alive. So when he saw the soft expression on your face, the gentle smile, and the look in your eyes, he nodded. It was soft, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

“You scared me.” You said, reaching forward to take his hand in yours. The flashlight was still clutched tightly in his other hand, the light shining up at the ceiling.

He sighed, squeezing your hand and looking away. It was silent for a moment before you felt him shift. The mattress moved slightly under his weight as he scooted closer, his eyes meeting yours once more.

Without a word, he reached forward, the hand that had been holding the flashlight coming up to rest on the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, the roughness of his hand feeling nice against your soft skin. He ran his thumb over your cheek before moving to cup the back of your head.

He was slow, almost hesitant, and you gave him a reassuring smile. You loved this man more than anything, and the gentle kisses he placed on your forehead and cheeks were the most tender of moments. You felt your heart swell as he finally kissed your lips, his hand moving from the back of your head to wrap around you, pulling you closer.

He let the flashlight fall to the floor, the loud thud it made against the carpet going unnoticed. You felt his lips tremble slightly, his emotions getting the best of him as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away, just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. Now you saw the blood, the bruises, and the cuts covering his face. He didn’t seem to care about them, but you did. It broke your heart, knowing that he had spent all night killing monsters and demons just to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.

He let out a sigh, a long, hard breath as if he had been holding it in forever. Relief, the kind that came after a good cry or after a bad case of the flu was gone, washed over his face, and you could see the tension leave his shoulders. He leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“I know,” He spoke, his voice cracking slightly. His tone was soft, his lips brushing against your ear. You shivered, rubbing your hands over his back. “I’m sorry, I just.. I needed- I needed to make sure that you were okay. That we were okay. It just... It gets overwhelming, and with what happened to Jess-”

You shushed him, turning to place a kiss on his temple. He sighed again, his breath tickling the side of your neck. His scent surrounded you, a mix of dirt and sweat and a hint of gunpowder. Dean’s presence was there, too, a bit of cologne and beer mixed into the air.

You didn't need to know where Dean was. You were pretty sure he had been on a hunt with Sam, and now he was at a bar, trying to get over his demons. The two brothers were so closely similar and yet so different, but in moments like this, where they were both torn down to their core, you could see the resemblance.

The two of them had a lot of things in common, but their biggest similarity was their stubbornness. They refused to ask for help, and they were afraid to show weakness, especially in front of each other.

Dean was off, drinking his worries away, while Sam came to you. A pattern the two had developed.

You had met the brothers in a motel very similar to the one you were in now. You were there for a simple vacation, a break from all the stresses of your life, but things changed when you were woken up to the sounds of gunshots and glass breaking.

Dean had burst into your room, dragging you out with him. He was a smart guy, and although he had no clue who you were, he knew you were in danger. He had gotten into a fight with a… well, it didn’t matter what it was; all that mattered was that the thing had a taste for human flesh.

You and Sam had bonded instantly, and Dean wasn't too far behind. It was the start of a beautiful friendship despite the poor circumstances. After a year of being around each other, helping each other out with whatever situation came, the three of you became closer than you ever thought possible. A little more with Sam, of course.

So, now, when Sam comes to you late at night, needing you, needing reassurance, you don’t hesitate. You give him all that he needs and more, and when he holds you close, his body trembling and his words shaky, you know it was the right decision.

His grip on you tightened, pulling you into him. You let him, holding him just as close, your hands gently running up and down his back. You could feel the fabric of his shirt under your fingertips, and the heat from his skin radiated through.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. You could tell he was worried about Dean, about you, about the whole situation. He was afraid of what was coming, and although he didn’t know it, his fears were valid.

There was a lot to come, and it wasn’t going to be easy. The two of you had been through a lot, and although you didn't regret it, the thought of something happening to him was enough to drive you crazy.

You were about to say something, but the words never left your mouth. He was kissing you again, the force much stronger than the last, his hands gripping your arms tightly. It was an amazing kiss, filled with all the passion and love he had for you, and as he moved you, pushing you onto the bed, you felt his desperation.

It wasn’t a desperate need for sex, but a desperate need to be close to you. You knew this, and as you tangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him just as desperately, you knew he needed you more than anything. Who cared if you ended up losing more sleep than normal? Who cared if the sun came up and Dean returned to the room, finding the two of you still tangled up together in a mess of sheets? Who cared if the world was coming to an end and this was the last time the two of you would ever see each other?

He needed you, and as he whispered your name, his voice cracking with emotion, you knew he had no plans of letting you go. Not now, not ever. And when Dean did pop up a few hours later with messy hair and his shirt on backward, he would take a single glance and walk right back out the door, knowing he was going to be okay.

The three of you would be okay, and when the time comes and the world starts ending, you would fight till the very end. Because there is nothing worth fighting for more than your family, and you would do anything to protect the people you loved.

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rizzyu · 5 months

Text

Hot Spring HC

Pairing: Vox, Mysta, Luca, Ike, Shu x gn! reader

Category: Fluff, slightly suggestive

Warning: Nudity (I KNOW WHAT U ARE.), really slight mentions of the saxophone dance

A/N: bc I love hot spring prompts :)

Vox Akuma

Are you really gonna believe that this man is not gonna flirt with you the moment you step into the onsen with him?

You had stepped into the onsen and Vox already have his arms around your waist.

“Darling you look so hot.” “Vox, I just got in, have some patience.”

After a few minutes of calming down Vox, you would help untangle and wash his onyx coloured hair

Bro loves leaving kisses all around your shoulders and neck and he would be such a tease

“Getting flustered already? I barely even did anything”

And also whether it’s when you were both back in your hotel room, or when you were still in the hot spring, you would eventually be doing the saxophone dance :)

I shall not elaborate on that :)

Mysta Rias

There’s this really funny thing I thought of:

What if when Mysta went in the onsen, he was so unused to that heat that he just started screaming and jumping around

*mentally laughs*

Anyways just like Vox he would be so lovestruck when you joined him in the onsen

But unlike Vox he wouldn’t be straight up announcing his admiration for you

“Fucking hell, why are you so hot?” He’d mutter

His face, ears and neck would be all warm and flushed. And he was hoping you would think that was because of the hot spring (it wasn’t)

Oh but you knew what was going on and you would bully him for it lol

“Heheh your cheeks seems kinda red” >:)

“WH-WHAT? IT’S THE HOT SPRING”

“uh hUhhhhh ok..”

Luca Kaneshiro

I know what you are.

You’re gonna be shamelessly stare at his booba don’t even try to object

But he was feeling happy that you came to the hot spring with him, so he let you lay on them just this once :)

Though he still denied that they aren’t big.

“I’m glad you let me lay on theeeem… they’re so big and squishy.” “What?? Th-they aren’t big!”

Oh man but like picture this: tracing his tattoos

You would be sending shivers down his spine when he felt your feathery light touch on his tattoos

As well as leaving little kisses along his tattoos

You would have gotten him floating on cloud nine

But you’d also be just cuddling and chilling in the onsen till your fingers get all wrinkly

Ike Eveland

Ike’s glasses would get covered by the steam, no doubt. Maybe because that also happens to me all the time

And you would laugh at him saying he looks like one of those smart anime characters with glasses. Maybe because my friends also do that to me all the time

Anyways, soaking in the hot spring with Ike would be so cute tho

CUDDLES :D

Cuddling with Ike is always so cute tho

You would be giving him little kissies here and there

And then you both felt so comfy in the presence of each other that you eventually fell asleep together

Ike would wake up later for him to realise it was past midnight

He’d carry you back to your hotel room and help you get ready for bed :)

Shu Yamino

HE’S A SHY BOI

He was too embarrassed to look at you man what a cutie patootie

“Shu yknow you don’t have to turn your head away the whole time right? You can look, I won’t mind.”

Shu slowly turned to face you. His eyes still avoiding you as his cheeks were in a pretty shade of pink.

Ok but I think you would be such a tease because of how shy he is in the hot spring

Yknow like being more touchy and making him stiffen every time he was under your touch.

You were making his heart go literally insane but he was too cute for you to stop

I mean… it wasn’t like he didn’t like it…

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #nijisanjien #nijisanjien x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader fluff #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino

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isawken · 1 year

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disco elysium and transmasculinity:

i don't want to be this kind of animal anymore

there is no such thing as an inherently masculine trait, only those which we have culturally prescribed to be masculine. muscular, tall, strong, stoic. self-destructive. repressive. angry. unhinged. violent. addictive.

Disco Elysium markets itself with the tagline “what kind of cop are you?”. to put it bluntly: you get to choose what man you want to be. the actual gameplay mechanic is the game keeps track of your dialogue choices and, among other RPG things, neatly divvies them up into 4 main Cop Categories: Sorry Cop, Apocalypse Cop, Superstar Cop, Boring Cop. after some time establishing your identity you can branch off into 3 other copotypes: honor cop, art cop, and hobocop. These are all exactly what you think they would be.

a supremacist stands tall, immovable, shirtless, tattooed, in the way of one of your objectives, and if you let him he will tell you all the ways your body betrays your degeneracy. all the indulgences you make, with drugs and alcohol and sex, are allegedly clear as day written across your reddened swollen face. you are not a man. you are pathetic. a pair of women reassure his divine masculinity even when he admits his impotence. there’s no denying it: that’s one man of a man right there.

your former detective partner is an eternally scowling pockmark faced asshole. he approaches every interaction with you with a nice solid baseline of aggression. if you choose to put your points into something called “espirit de corps”, you get small vignettes of his previous actions. in one of them, it’s joked that you two are near-marital in your relationship. in some of them, he worries about you. muttering under his breath, mostly to himself, not unkindly. but he certainly never shows that to you face to face.

two old men play pétanque outside every day by the sea. they have done this for years. they have known each other since they were kids. one is a fascist, the other a democratic socialst. if you’re nosy, you can go to the watchman’s post and find a picture of him, his socialist buddy, and a young woman whose attentions they supposedly both vied for. if you decide to become a fascist, the game gives you something more. your abilities Pain Threshold, Composure, Endurance, Volition, Conceptualization, and Inland Empire take turns showing you tiny slices of a truth viciously stamped beneath the heel of his brilliant boot. a love for his dear hated socialist. and when he dies, that socialist tells you the same. but they never told each other. never even came close. because how could you?

harry dubois wakes up face down ass up covered in piss and vomit and full of foggy confusion after drinking himself into amnesia. he's tall, he's got giant arms, a proud beer gut, and he's self-destructed himself into literal oblivion. this pitiful bastard doesn't even remember his own name. the first person he encounters outside of the hotel room in which he fucked himself up beyond his limbic system’s reach tells him at some point during his bingeful weekend she heard him scream, "i dont want to be this kind of animal anymore". you don’t know why you said this. but after a while you have some pretty good guesses.

i could talk forever about the unique circumstances of growing up as a girl in modern western society. but i have nothing interesting to say that hasn't already been said much more eloquently. learning to hate my body, learning to be afraid, learning that you need to want to be consumed. the eternal unpacking of all the issues a patriarchal society burdens you with. it never ends. but i've at least reached a point where i've done my base legwork. i know the oppression i've fought. it is nameable. i have labeled each and every patriarchal burden like a so many papers in a filing cabinet. few are going in the shredder, but at least they're known. next to that filing cabinet, i have a big pile of loose papers slowly sliding off a desk with the word "masculinity" in neon lights flickering above them. i want to dive into those papers. but the thought of it fills me with such apprehension. i've always wanted masculinity. i've purposefully adopted affectations to make myself more stereotypically masculine. most are hilariously shallow, and not exactly innovative. i smoked camels for 8 years. i drink my coffee black. i picked up a nice little alcohol habit. i've shoved down more feelings than i would ever willingly admit in the hopes to appear unbothered. I’ve told myself to “man the fuck up” my fair share of times. none of it got rid of my hips or my tits or my anxiety or my painfully high pitched voice. i’ve quit smoking. i sometimes think i should start again for many reasons, but one is in the hope that my voice will drop. just one octave. at least. it’s silly, i know. believe me. i know.

when harry drags his sorry ass out of that hotel room, he isn't free of his past. he has shadows in his mind reminding him of the things he's forgotten. shadows that still influence his views of masculinity. there is no way to truly escape the bitter leaden paint stuck to the inside of your mind so violently applied by our beloved patriarchal society. there is a hilarious dialogue option where, if you so choose, you can proclaim that you would never let anyone androgynous touch your hair. because the “others” (unnamed) would laugh at you. here we have a man who cant remember his own name, but he is certain that he absolutely cannot under any circumstances have a non-manly haircut for fear of mockery and rejection by his peers. how many coats of that leadened paint must have adhered to his poor, poor limbic system that even when he’s forgotten the concept of money, he still knows about the boundaries of masculinity.

as harry tries to be a good person (or a fascist or a doom prophet or a disco superstar) he cannot really shake the pieces of himself that make him him. and he meets another bastion of masculinity, kim kitsuragi immeasurably measured, willful, and kind (for a cop), he helps you rediscover the world around you as you try to rewrite your tabula rasa'd self. he is firm, but nice. he lets you make your choices and mistakes. and he only stops supporting you when you start fucking up like, literally everything, and indulging in racism. naturally, there is a lot of fanart of them kissing, and yearning. both are beacons of masculinity, different sides of the same coin. where harry is physically imposing, kim is slight. where kim is calm cool and collected, harry will break down crying after a brief conversation with his necktie. but both are undeniably masculine. i mean, they’re cops after all. what more masculine profession is there?

as kind as kim is to you in your lowest possible state, it can be easy to overlook the ways in which he is not kind. when you tell him you think you really, seriously, need to go to the hospital, seriously kim i can't even remember my name i think i could have brain damage, kim responds with the equivalent of "walk it off" by encouraging you to start working on the case and see if that makes you feel better instead. it is in this light that you recognize which affectations of his are conscious posturing. his fitted jacket and trousers, matching the uniforms worn by air brigades in a past war. his careful collection of tools he keeps in his beloved kineema. his vast knowledge and care for the car itself. looked at in a certain different light- you know the one- you could see these traits being the result of a very careful construction. he found pieces of overt masculinity and decided to subsume them as a defense. a bolstering, a reinforcement of chosen masculinity.

there are so many different flavors of masculinity that the game offers you to experience and explore yourself. you decide whether to value them. you can follow in mister phenology’s footsteps and try to build yourself into a supremacist ideal. maybe that will make you happy. you can also chase after a barely-coded homosexual man, who makes you stutter in most available dialogue options. even if that may make you happy, you don’t get to pursue it. you can think for 20 hours about the "homosexual underground", but you can't join it yourself. you can however join fascism. interesting how harry is more susceptible to fascism than homosexuality. interesting to prod and poke at his masculine limits.

“what kind of cop are you” is a loaded question. harry is rebuilding himself from the ground up as a man. and how funny is it to learn that is inextricable from his profession.

what do you find inextricable from your gender? what of those traits make you happy? what of those traits make you want to throw your fucking shoe through a god damn window and punch the bathroom mirror and scream and scream and scream and scream?

i want to emerge from a hotel room, at my lowest point, and have the power to rebuild myself from scratch. i want a cool man who i maybe want to kiss guide me with a gentle yet firm hand. i want to have large arms, and a proud beer gut, and a stupid beard, and i want to destroy a hotel room and drink myself into a beautifully tragic state. i want to have non-political body hair. i want to get stared at for my gaudy tie and green snakeskin shoes instead of my tits. i want become a different kind of animal.

#this is very long and rambly and filled with half-finished thoughts #i will maybe one day come back to it and finish those thoughts #but i just wanted to put this out there. slide into my inbox if you also have transmasc feelings about disco elysium. i want to hear you #disco elysium #transmasc #transmasculinity #transgender

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gaybitchfx · 1 year

Text

-🍓 Character(s): Baby Xiao + Dad Zhongli

-🍓 Type of reader: M!Reader (you’re an owl adeptus which means you have wings and that creepy blank stare when irritated most of the time)

-🍓 Category: SFW + Hybrid AU

-🍓 Warning(s): None

-🍓 Part 2

-🍓 Edited: ❌

You let out a yawn as you sat up, rubbing your eye. Moving your hand to your left you felt a lump making you pause and pat that side a couple more times before removing the blanket. Seeing an egg with turquoise dots all around it nearly made you faint as you profusely shook Zhongli out of his sleep, him mumbling.

“What is THAT?” You shouted and pointed at the egg that sat next to you, your small wings fluttering a bit. He stared at it for a bit before Zhongli’s eyes quickly widened. “Did you steal someone’s kid when you were asleep or something?” Zhongli asked not taking his eyes off the egg. “Of course not! Well, I don’t think so at least..” You mumbled before picking up the egg and shaking it.

“Don’t shake it!” “Okay okay!” Turns out you were just pregnant and never knew it till the egg finally materialized out of thin air.

“So I, going to be a dad in the new couple of months?” You asked Zhongli as you placed your egg on a nest you found and took for yourself. “Pretty much yeah.” You sat near the egg and hummed a little before picking it up and seating it in between your legs, your wings making a small flutter as you relaxed.

“Seems like you’re a natural at this.” Zhongli smiled as he sat near you. “I wonder what my kid is going to be like. Maybe similar to his papa?” You hummed as you rubbed the smooth shell of the egg. “I hope it’s something like you.” Zhongli kissed your cheek making you giggle. Months went by and the egg hadn’t moved once. The doctor said it should begin to move by its 3-month mark but even after that, it didn’t move once. And god were you getting anxious. Checking the temperature of the room every day, making sure it was comfortable, anything.

“Do you think it’s dead?” You mumbled as you looked at your egg, it was small and hadn’t grown much. “Don’t think of such a thing. It’s probably just doesn’t want to move Y/n.” Zhongli reassured you as he rubbed a hand on your waist to help calm your nerves. “But it hasn’t grown. They’re supposed to get bigger…” A deep frown formed on your lips as you traced the tiny dots littering the egg. For the next couple of months it didn’t move till one night when both you and Zhongli were asleep, the egg right in between the two of you for warmth.

You were the first to wake up after feeling movement near your arm thinking it was just Zhongli moving till you could see the faint outline of the egg moving around. Quickly, you turned on the lamp to get a better look. And my god was it moving, a lot. “Zhongli Zhongli! Wake up! It’s moving!” You exclaimed and slapped his shoulder making him groan as he woke up to see the egg moving. The egg rolled onto its side a little before a crack formed making you nearly scream.

“I think it’s hatching hun, don’t worry yourself too much now,” Zhongli said after seeing the expression you had. More crackers formed around the egg till it began chipping and the top of the egg came off. Out came a tiny little harpy with beautiful black and turquoise hair, a diamond was present on his little forehead. He let out a yawn and shook s little, a peep leaving his mouth. The two of you stared at the bay harpy bewildered.

“He’s so cute!” You exclaimed and gently picked up the infant, letting out little peeps as he examined his surroundings before looking at you with his beautiful amber-brown eyes. His little arms moved around, at the moment they were wings but would go away as he grows. “Xiao..” You said, a soft smile appearing on your face. “My baby Xiao.” You held Xiao closely as he let out little peeps, his wings doing a little flutter.

“He’s tiny..” Zhongli said as he looked at his child awestruck. “That’s why his egg was so small, it’s cause he’s so tiny isn’t that right Xiao?” You cooed making him move around a little. “Chi!” Xiao chirped making you giggle.

“Looks like he has a lot to say.”

“Just like you.”

“Oh shut up!”

-🍓tags: @jkloserdazai @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden

#zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x male reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x reader #xiao genshin impact #xiao x male reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao x reader #fiction #anime #fluff #male reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x male reader

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citruslullabies · 2 months

Note

That last DogDay x reader fic was too cute (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Would you pretty please do DD with a reader who jumps on CatNap's back to protect him only to be knocked over, and that's when DD finally finds the courage to fight his former best friend? I would appreciate some fluff afterwards 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you!

Btw, your blog's aesthetic is so pretty :3c 🩷

Coming right up!! And awh, thank you! That's so sweet<333

Trigger warnings: blood, descriptions of violence

Requested by: anonymous 🩷

Romantic/platonic?: neutral (not specified)

Category: angst ending with fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 620

You Saved Me, So I’ll Save You

Finding a friend with so many foes was a rare thing for your situation, but you were lucky enough to have found Dogday. The canine, despite its lack of legs, was loyal and forever in your debt for your kindness. You were his angel, his savior. That's why he never wanted you to get hurt.

But catnap ambushed you two, leaving you to try and defend two smaller beings against one large one with a bigger advantage. He watched in horror as Catnap approached him with eyes so dark and cruel, knowing that his former best friend would be the one to take his life.. or so he had thought. He slowly opened his eyes when he heard a loud cat-like scream echo the abandoned building, looking up to see you on his back while he was trying to get you off like some bull-riding competition.

“Dogday! Quick, get his legs or ankles or just, something-!” You called out desperately, feeling the large cats spine dig into your stomach and chest as you dug your feet into its ribs to try and balance yourself to stay on. Dogday tried to run with his old re-stitched back on legs, but found himself in a predicament.. he couldn't hurt Catnap. He couldn't bring himself to do so, the idea alone made him feel nauseated.

But that feeling quickly disappeared when he saw you fall and hit your head roughly against the ground, causing you to lose consciousness. His eyes widened as he panicked. “ANGEL!” he yelled out as he quickly dove to get to you, lifting your still breathing body up to his as he caressed your head.

“Angel? Angel wake up!” He said, panicking. His eyes only left from your face when he heard the crooning of a feline behind him, as if it was cackling as it moved at your despair. His body acted before his brain did, growling and quickly charging at the monster In front of him. That thing wasn't Catnap, it was a monster. Catnap had died in the hour of joy, a monster being housed inside of his former friend's body instead.

You gained consciousness with blurry vision, feeling bandages being wrapped around your head in various ways as if Dogday didn't know how to properly bandage your wound. He got it to stop bleeding so heavily, but he wanted to cover it quickly. You spoke up hoarsely. “Dogday..?” You asked in a weak wheeze, causing his ears to practically shoot up in relief. He immediately hugged you close and tight. “Oh god.. Angel, I.. I was so worried I thought.. I thought I lost you for a moment!” He said through whimpers and whines.

His fur was matted with blood, specifically around his mouth and paws. But he didn't care about that right now as he snuggled his head against you and held you dearly. You blinked slowly as you remembered what had happened.. before mustering your strength to sit up and hold Dogday close, cradling his head against your chest. You sighed and rubbed his back, smiling warmly at him. “Hey.. hey.. it's okay. I'm okay, see? I'm right here.”

Despite your reassurances, the dog continued to pathetically whine and nuzzle against you as tears fell from his eyes. “I'm so glad you're alive, I don't know what would've happened if I lost you. I don't want to imagine a world without you in it, Angel.” He said softly through sniffles. You carefully scratched behind his ear and felt him relax in your warm touch, your weak eyes filled with relief and adoration as you comforted him with a warm smile.

“I don't want to imagine a world without you in it either, sunshine..”

Thank you for the request!

#smiling critters #dogday x y/n #dogday #dogday x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

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sweetwolfcupcake · 16 days

Text

Wildflower: 05

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Physical attack, actual violence and allusion to violence and brutality and concussion

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

Thank you @scarlettspectra for making such amazing GIFs.

Unedited

Wildflower 04

With all the commotion in her life– discovering her mother’s letter, moving to New York after a harrowing confrontation with her father that would fester life-long resentments (or at least a decade-long?) discovering that her mother was no more, getting used to the city and its pace— (Y/N) had come to appreciate the quieter aspects of life more than ever– the lazy days, the quiet mornings at a park, or a morning bicycle ride.

But perhaps, she should have known…It was not her quiet little town, it was New York City. She had barely paid attention to the quiet rustling of approaching footsteps. She was dumb enough to not even register the barrel of the gun until the cold metal was pressing against the back of her neck.

“Don’t you fucking move bitch! Han–me your wallet.” The voice was heavy and slightly slurred.

She froze— all the self-defence videos she spent watching after arriving in New York evaporated and she stilled as the reality of the situation bucketed down on her like painful, jagged ice. She whimpered when he pressed the metal roughly against her skull, the coldness dug into her and she knew that it would become a scar at the back of her mind if she made it out alive.

“Didn’t you hear me bitch!” he hissed, shoving the gun harder against her skull, it bumped harshly, making her hiss.

“Okay, okay–” As she tried to get up, she was shoved down, falling on her stomach.

Her knees were bruised, but with the adrenaline urge, she could hardly register the pain against the fear and her heartbeat thundering against her chest– she could even feel it in her head. She whimpered when she felt his footsteps nearing before a rough hand grabbed her hair.

“Don’t play smart with me— I’ll empty this fucking gun in your dense head.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please just—don’t hurt me!” She felt tears gathering in the corner of her eyes– one blink and her cheeks were dampening.

Her hands shook as she pulled out her wallet and handed it to him, not even considering playing smart.

She turned to look at the man but he tugged her hair harshly, keeping her still.

“And the ring too!”

Her eyes widened at the demand.

“N–No, No, I can't give you that–please!”

She screamed when he yanked her hair, her scalp burned as fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she shivered when he snatched her hand that had the ring. Roughly taking it off her finger. Her mother’s ring, her mother’s last gift to her.

No! No, she couldn't let it go!

“No! Give me back my ring— it—” She turned around as soon as he let go of her hair. But her protests were cut short with the back of the gun striking the side of her head.

—--

It hurt. That was what she registered first before her waking mind began to register the quietness. There was a beep, but it felt like it was somewhere far– consistent though, and the longer she heard it, the closer it came, speeding up, slowing? No, speeding, no, nothing changed.

She felt her eyelids moving as her mind became more coherent. Opening her eyes was a task— but she managed— it was just one blink first, nothing decipherable. But as she blinked again, she saw something move. A black mass– no, a looming form raising up— it seemed all black. In silence, it stood up and walked out of her sight. She wanted to move her head but it was too heavy to move. Every attempt to move it was rewarded with a deep, encompassing ache originating from the side of her head and spreading all over her skull. It made her whimper.

Was it the sound of shutting the door she heard?

She was not sure anymore, instead, she sank back, relaxing on the fluffy surface– a pillow– right, it was soft and good, and she could go back to sleep.

—--

It felt like she had slept only for a minute more when she woke up again. Much more coherent this time. Registering the beeping monitor and the IV. A bit over the top for concussion. Right, she was hit on the head after she tried to save her mother’s ring from the robber.

Could not even see that rat’s face.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. That was so unlike her– calling somone names. But at the same time, it was, for the first time in months that she felt any other intense emotion than grief or resentment. There was a numbness that had gripped her, paralysed her, closed her heart to feeling anything– life went by just as it was, and she felt on autopilot.

But the moment her mother’s ring was snatched, it was like a bucket of ice was thrown at her, breaking her out of the numbness, the void.

She had a purpose— she wanted to go on, and she was willing to go on and live because her mother would have wanted the same. Her mother who loved her, adored her so much and left so many unanswered questions behind. Questions she probably would never get answers to.

But now, the ring was gone and she was looking up to a white hospital ceiling, the room smelt fresh but with a hint of that same old ‘medical’ smell and assessing the private room she was in— it was going to burn a hole in her pocket.

“How are you feeling now?”

Oh, there was a nurse in there too, adjusting her IV. Her vision was a bit floaty. She blinked and cleared her parched throat.

“I’m… I’m feeling–weird?”

She smiled at (Y/N)’s slow, blinking eyes.

“Concussion, honey. You’re lucky the kind man found you and brought you here. Oh, yes, your things are kept by the bed, check them out and report if something’s missing, hm?” With that, she pressed the button to bend up the upper half of the bed, making her able to sit up slightly.

“Th–thank you… the man’s around? I can thank him.” (Y/N)’s voice was scratchy and her speech came with a bit of effort, but at least the pain was reduced to a dull throbbing.

“I’m afraid he’s gone. He was there in your room an hour ago. Went away after alerting us that you’re waking up.”

(Y/N) frowned. So, she was not dreaming. She sighed and leaned back, the pillow was big and soft. Slowly, she turned her head to the side, trying to focus on the table by her bed.

She blinked as the gleaming object caught her eyes. The sunlight fell just at the right angle as if presenting it to her, ushering her to pick it up.

Her mother’s ring!

It was her mother’s ring placed on the table. Her movements felt a bit disoriented and slow but she managed to reach out to it and pick it up.

“Oh, mother…Thank you— Thank you to whoever returned this.” She whispered, kissing the ring as tears escaped her eyes.

“Everything good?” The concerned nurse asked.

(Y/N) looked up and nodded her head. If she spoke, she would cry. Assessing her quickly one last time, the nurse left after informing her that the doctor would come to check on her after lunch.

Well, that would be added to the fat bill, won’t it?

But for now, she realised she was starving, and some overpriced food was all she could have for now, so, she would settle with that. The doctor came after lunch, and she asked about the billing process and insurance.

Only to find that all her bills were paid— she would be discharged the next day– a bit of a stretch– but her vision was still floaty and moving too fast was a task.

The kind stranger also paid the bills? Food and medicines covered?

What was he, an angel?

Or was she dreaming?

When she tried to get to the name, there was surprisingly nothing. Nothing in the sense that the doctor refused to disclose.

Strange.

So, things had magically turned out to be…good?

It was unbelievable but she had her mother’s ring on her finger, the bills were paid and… and she had a private room. With a TV.

All that was left was to inform her superiors regarding her situation. And maybe her family?

She contemplated the latter. She had not spoken to him for more than five minutes on the phone. The texts were–one-worded and with the stubbornness rooted in their family, she knew that it would take time for either of them to thaw.

She sighed and reached for the TV remote. Maybe she would think through things with a clearer head. She adjusted her vision, trying to focus on the TV screen that seemed to annoyingly blur. She shouldn’t be watching TV, but she was stubborn and certified stupid so…

Flicking through the channels mindlessly, she stopped right at an address. A park near her home—wait, it was the same park she was at when she was robbed! It was the park she would go to often to watch the sunrise.

She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the headlines. There was a dull throbbing in her head intensified, but she could barely pay attention to that. Was she reading right? The face was the same, the one who robbed her.

He was…hospitalised?

For broken ribs, teeth and well some other broken bones.

Apparently, he had mugged many before, but the police could never catch him— or maybe they never bothered.

Why would they, it wasn’t a murder yet.

She rolled her eyes at the thought.

But now, he was at a hospital, and once discharged, he would be shoved behind bars. It was only a brief headline before the news ultimately turned to politics. She switched the electronic off and leaned down, trying to relax, and not think too much.

But all she could think of was the chain of events. It now felt surreal almost. She thought she was almost dead, but there she was, safe, comfortable— the most comfortable she could be with a concussion and in a hospital, and the robber had targeted the wrong person this time.

And who was that kind man who brought her to the hospital? Completed formalities, paid the bills in advance, made sure she wouldn’t have to touch a penny from her pocket and just chose to remain anonymous— to a stubborn level? She did not understand.

New York seemed to be too much to handle.

She felt like she did not belong there. Not like she wanted to find a home in the city, no, but it was like the city itself was giving her a cold, indifferent stare. The towering buildings were not intimidating, but the sense that she was in a completely new and somehow dangerous territory was bothering her. It was disturbing even.

She felt like an outsider. Not exactly like a ‘small-town-girl’ outsider. It felt like worlds apart.

Just as she felt in the Continental.

Everything about the hotel seemed good, posh, just not normal. No matter how much it tried to imitate the ‘normal’, she did not feel a sense of comfort or even a sense of normalcy. There was something off about the hotel. The city did not feel as ‘off’, but the thought would be constantly there at the back of her mind.

(Y/N) rubbed her fingers on her forehead, touching the bandages in the process. Maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe her ‘fresh’ start in New York had begun on the wrong foot.

Maybe—

Her phone rang.

Oh right, she had texted her senior regarding her accident. Picking up the device, she pressed the button to answer the call.

Here it goes— questions and answers, and more questions.

She sighed mentally while schooling her voice to sound as pleasant as she could at the moment.

—------

The next morning, it was Alex who called her. Even through the phone, she could feel his concern. She had not shown up in the bus they would usually take to commute back home, and of course, Alex noticed.

“I will be there.”

“No, Alex, there’s no need, I’m okay. I will be discharged this afternoon. You can’t make it then anyway.”

“Why, which hospital is it? I'm coming.”

“Alex, you have a job to do.”

“I will manage (Y/N), just tell me the name and address.”

“Ale–”

“(Y/N), what are friends for if they cannot even be by your side when you need it?”

She sighed and shook her head before giving him the name and address of the hospital.

There was a short silence.

“Oh.”

She frowned at the unexpected response.

“Alex? You good? It's okay if you can’t—”

“I’ll be there.” He asserted.

“O–okay. Sure, I will be waiting.”

****

Here comes another chapter. I'm sorry if the description of her concussion was incorrect, I'm no expert. Please feel free to correct me.

#john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere john wick x reader #john wick x reader #dark john wick

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fleetingvow · 1 year

Text

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD X FEMALE READER

SYNOPSIS. you and anthony have settled it before. you couldn’t allow whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you to continue. so, that resulted to consistent longing looks and stolen glances, until you met someone new. lockwood didn’t like that, especially with the way this bloke flirted using the very language he used to communicate with you from far away. ( 4.5k words )

CATEGORY. angsty fluff. jealousy plot. will-they-won’t-they trope. written in second person’s point of view.

WARNINGS. unproofread. i don’t have beta readers, sadly. english is not the author’s first language. usual usage of profanities. tried my best to characterise anthony as he is, but he’s a little much of a challenge. — hopefully i did him justice. aged up to eighteen but without nsfw theme.

NAVIGATION. you can find more of my works about anthony lockwood and wednesday addams by clicking the link here! a fair warning, they’re all angsty!

DEDICATED TO. @obsessed-female @courtneyraeblogs1221 @philliam-writes ( apologies for the repeated tags - there was a malfunction with the previous one and i had to replace it with this one )

REMINDER. this fic is written by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission. inspiration is lovely, but plagiarism by paraphrasing is not, as well as stealing someone’s idea and claiming it as your own which is exactly what plagiarism is.

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗚𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 to be like this forever, isn’t it? Endless rounds of stolen glances and yearning looks from across the table, learning the art of composure and restraint to keep both your desires to be close to one another just solely in the back of your mind. Anthony always was a complex character, and there were times you couldn’t read his thoughts behind his eyes, but when you started to study him carefully, you started to understand that those looks he gave you were quite more interesting.

Not interesting per say, perhaps — perhaps interested.

You couldn’t deny Lockwood the fact that you weren’t immune to his charms. He was gentle and caring yet careless with other things that involved the agency’s line of work. Which was the irony of it all, really, because once you both have opened yourself to each other and came transparently clear of your feelings, he insisted that you both set it aside for the sake of the team.

And now here you are, months later, just glancing at each other briefly, smiling at nothing like idiots when no one’s looking, and pondering over the small moments when your hands would brush slightly. Your heart would constantly ache for him. This barricade he built between the two of you made it difficult for you to see him, but your feelings kept growing.

He was so close yet so far.

All you could get ahold of him was a view. That’s all you could do after all, look at him, admire him from afar, picture how he smiles proudly and smirk so smugly in your head.

Lockwood is an entire art, you thought.

And then, there were two lovesick arts looking at each other, which are, for clarification, are the arts they were looking at.

How could both be so active with their eyes yet be so blind from the fact that they wanted each other at the same level of intensity?

Sight was Anthony’s talent, and he was damn grateful it was that it was his pair of eyes that did all the work for him. He couldn’t communicate by words to you or else someone else would hear. He couldn’t touch you because someone else might see. It might be better that he’d learn the language of looks for you, and maybe then you’d know. You’d know how his tired eyes wouldn’t let him sleep as it worked with his mind, screaming for him to wake up and convince him to be selfish for once. Selfish enough just to get you all to himself.

But he couldn’t do anything about it, he just couldn’t. He didn’t want you suffering because of him. He knew you loved the idea of romance, and he knew how avid you were to find someone who would shout his undying ardour to the ends of the Earth. He couldn’t let you suffer, only holding hands with him behind closed curtains.

Lockwood wanted you, but you were someone he couldn’t have.

“Your tea’s getting cold, Y/N.” George commented as he noticed the untouched teacup set before you. You quickly snapped out of your trance when suddenly, there was a knock on the door. In an attempt to shake off the embarrassment you just caused, you stood up from your chair and mumbled, “I’ll get it.”

Anthony let out a chuckle under his breath as he flipped the page of the newspaper, casually appearing to read when his mind had entirely lost track of the article he was supposed to be absorbed in two minutes ago when you started zoning out while looking at him.

“What are you laughing at?” George questioned. My, he seemed to be in a bad mood today. Anthony lifted his head to meet his eyes with a shrug.

“The paper’s just a little ridiculous today,” he reasoned. It was truly because he found you amusing for a little while. The boy closed the paper and set it on the table. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Upstairs. Said she needs another hour to sleep in,” Karim replied, unbothered by the previous encounter. He took a bite of the cookie and passed the platter onto Lockwood who returned it, seeing as there was only one left, and George needed it to maybe lighten up his mood.

You laughed slightly, “You really shouldn’t have. Is this your mum’s recipe? It is, isn’t it?” You frowned in confusion as you examined the pastries inside the basket. It smelled so good. Cinnamon, just like —

“Hey, L/N. Who is it?”

— Lockwood.

You quickly turned to look at him with the basket clutched in your hands, “Oh, it’s Theo. He gave us his mum’s specials. Here, have a look at it. They look delicious.”

You noticed how his eyebrows furrowed as he caught sight of the boy in the doorframe. That wasn’t a good sign. “Theo?”

“Yeah, he’s the one stuffing us up with bread and pastries for the past few weeks.”

‘So this was Theo,’ Anthony thought to himself, scanning the guy from head to toe. He frowned even more. “Theo, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m — ”

“Anthony Lockwood. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Theo shook his hand. There wasn’t an expression on Anthony’s face for a while before he caught himself and tugged a slight smile.

“Do you want a cuppa? It’s the least we can do in return,” you suddenly interjected, diminishing the tension that had been threatening to build up between the two. Oh, why did you have to be so nice all the damn time? Lockwood swore he could lose two of his toes right there and then.

You realised Anthony didn’t much meddle with the idea of Theo entering the house as he only stood there, waiting for an answer from your neighbour. Theo let out a breathy laugh constructed of fear, “Er, as much as I’d love to, I don’t think I have the time today — must go help my mum arrange the er, bakery.”

“Perfect! We’ll just deliver you a George special. Truly grateful for the gift.” Lockwood replied immediately after the end of Theo’s sentence. You didn’t even get to talk as Theo awkwardly stood.

“George special?” He asked, bewildered.

“Made by George — er, our researcher,” you answered. Lockwood flashed him a smile and held back a sigh.

“Any more questions? I think our agency’s quite busy. I can already hear the phone inside, it must be our third commission for today.”

“Okay, yes, I mean no. I — hey, I’ll just drop by tomorrow, yeah?” You could have sworn Theo gave you that look, his eyes gentle as they were fixed on you without a care for the fuming facade in Anthony’s face.

Lockwood slightly pulled you away from the doorframe.

“Thanks, mate.” Anthony found his grip on the door as he quickly shut it on the boy’s face, his hand lingering a little more while on the wood as he stared at you. You returned the gaze, arching your eyebrow. You almost said something, like why he was in a rush when she could literally hear no ringing from the phone, why he was examining Theo from head to toe, and why he shut that door on his face. But his eyes, they were staring right at your soul as if he was trying to figure out some kind of puzzle in the back of your head.

“Are we just going to stare at each other, or are we going to talk about what just hap—” You finally spoke up only to get cut off.

He quickly took a sharp inhale with a question that made his eyebrows furrow again, “Do you like him?”

“ — What?” You asked in response, your mouth ajar.

“Lockwood, Y/N! Your tea! It’s a waste of teabags, seriously!” George’s voice quickly cut the tension with his yelling, turning the atmosphere even more awkward to bear. You both turned your head to the kitchen’s direction with you recovering first when you cleared your throat. You then left without a word.

Throughout the next week, things have been like that. Theo comes knocking on the door, and you would be welcoming him, accepting his gifts . . . with Anthony closely standing a foot behind you. If it isn’t you that would answer the door, it was him, and you could ask Theo about how that went later on.

The visits have become regular and the gifts have become more in quantity and taste. There was a point that Theo got inside the flat and visited the library, much to Anthony’s dismay. He had to watch him closely tailing you in every corner of the chamber of books, his hands clasped behind his back. Anthony was reading the latest scoop, but then he had no choice but to pretend that he was occupied by it while he watched closely. Theo was making jokes, funny enough to you that it would earn a hearty laugh.

Lockwood almost rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“That’s hilarious!” You exclaimed.

‘Oh, you little liar,’ Anthony thought with a smirk. If you really found that hilarious, you would slap Theo lightly, but you weren’t. If there was something he was confident at, it was that he knew you better than anyone else.

You lightly tapped Theo’s hand as you let out yet another laugh. Anthony groaned mentally, resisting the urge to stand up and leave the room. His eyes peeked through the newspaper while listening intently.

“You mentioned before that you liked reading, so I thought maybe showing you the great Lockwood library would be enough to return the favour.”

“What favour?” Theo questioned.

Yeah. What favour? Anthony leaned in slightly.

“Delivering your gifts to the agency. The bread, pastries, and the er, . . . ”

The what?

“The flowers.”

The flowers?

He heard Theo laugh under his breath as he watched him bob his head with a gentle ‘you’re welcome.’

‘Are they quite done yet?’ Anthony thought. Theo’s eyes watched you, his eyes travelling from your eyes to your lips.

Lockwood didn’t like that. So, with much grace, he cleared his throat and closed the newspaper, finally getting the attention of the two of you from where you stood. Your breath almost hitched as you watched Lockwood walk out of the library with much haste.

You didn’t know what you did to him. You didn’t know exactly how that conversation affected him, and he wished you did. He wished you had a clue. Of course, you have. Could you? He was stupid to leave that library — what if whatever that conversation was leading to, happened? What if . . .

What if you walked out of that room completely and utterly unreachable? Your devotion truly untouchable and bound to that Theo?

No matter what had transpired, or what Lockwood thought, that seemed to be the inclusion after Theo left the house, wasn’t it? Because when the door closed and you turned back facing your team, Lucy and George looked at you quite expectantly.

Yet Anthony couldn’t meet your eyes.

No matter how much you searched for them.

You gave them a slight smile before walking past them without a word, rushing to your given room with a heavy heart weighing inside your chest.

You thought it was only you? Lockwood felt his heart shatter when he walked in that kitchen with Lucy and George indulging into the fresh biscuits Theo gave earlier that morning. They were chatting and betting away whether Theo would have probably made his move or chickened out. When they finally noticed his presence, they quickly stopped and looked at him.

“What?” Lockwood asked.

George cut off the awkward silence when he offered the boy the biscuits he shared with Lucy. When he left that library, he thought he already got away with the sight of that man who was persistent on having you, but guess he thought too early.

“Do you think Theo’s made his move yet?” Lucy questioned. It was odd, for sure. She was never the one to be so invested in something like this. That made his stomach churn. Could it be that you and Theo were both too compelling to have her trapped in this sort of spell?

“He’s a wuss. He’d probably walk out of that door with an awkward trip. I can already see it.” George, not you too.

“Do you think they’ll be together in any minute now, Lockwood?” Lucy, could you stop with these questions? It was making his tie almost choke him and take away his breathing.

“It’s obvious. Their awkwardness is not hard to miss.”

Oh, so you and Theo were obvious to Lucy and George, but when it was you and Anthony, it wasn’t? He didn’t know if he should be happy or not that no one knew. Because as much as he’d love to shout it, could he?

The sight of the goods was sickening, but he had to cover his traces desperately or things would only go downhill from here. He couldn’t have you, and that’s final. That was the very reason he lost his sense of planning, and all he had to resort to was just — be the Lockwood that’s always Lockwood.

The team before you. The agency above all else. The greater good before his feelings. The well-being of everyone in that house before him.

What’s the point? Theo had proven himself consistent — with gift-giving, he supposed. He just looks at you so perfectly, like he was taken with you. Lockwood used to look at you like that, and he still does, no matter how useless it has become. Theo’s body language didn’t display threat to you or anyone. He was just unapologetically himself, gentle and soft. You would probably want to live with someone like that.

He was your friend.

Lockwood? He was your boss.

He convinced himself that that was the only role he could play in your life as you grew further and further apart from that table. Who knew, right? That someone could be this close yet so so far.

Anthony began to take his morning tea rather faster than before and proceeded to keep himself locked in the library for the times that the team wasn’t out for ghost-hunting. He was still himself, still the same boy with witty remarks and had a subtle smugness about him. Still the same friend and boss who praised his team constantly and asked for George to make his specials just because.

Still the same old Lockwood with so many things different about him. Oh, please, spare us the irony, but goodness how much you sought for answers from his eyes that just wouldn’t stare at you for more than three seconds.

You couldn’t see him. Truly see him.

And you were sick of it. He acted so normal, like nothing happened. That he didn’t just watch everything that happened in that library, left without a word but with a sense of anger lingering, and stood with the two to ask for what happened.

There was something different about you. Your eyes stayed focused on your tea for an hour every morning, you went outside off-duty a lot, and you only spoke when you were spoken to. You smiled. Just occasionally. You opened the door to the agency’s home for Theo, but it never felt thrilling anymore ever since you found that Lockwood’s presence won’t be a foot behind you. Theo only brought bread now. No more flowers, no other gifts of romantic causes. He always put on a friendly smile like it was his favourite shoes.

And you wished you’d see that same smile but on a different face.

So, you did what you did best. Avoided Lockwood. You couldn’t afford to fall for this challenge. Every single day proved to be difficult as you saw his face. That was the reason you were out the door often. You also met up with Theo quite frequently.

There was this one time Anthony wished he never stared out the window. Just so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your figure, your hair, your eyes that looked up at Theo as you listened to what he had to say as you slowly walked side by side.

He looked away, shutting the accounting book in his hand. He’d suddenly lost interest in sorting out the bills when he knew he couldn’t even afford something intangible. He scoffed. ‘This was different.’

Anthony stayed in the library again tonight, watching the striking dance of the flame in the hearth, nursing a book in his arms. He sighed, looking away and turning his attention to the paperback he now settled on his lap. What was wrong with him?

He already had you, and he just had to ruin it, didn’t he? He couldn’t be with you because what? Because of Lucy and George’s predictable taunting?

He was sure he had a good reason, but now? Now that he’s successfully pushed you away into the arms of another guy, he couldn’t see it as a reason.

Only as an excuse.

Just so he wouldn’t hurt you, but being involved with him already did half of that. It was just when he lost you that it must have damaged you both.

Or maybe it was just him.

“Lockwood?” He heard his name spoken by a voice ever so gentle yet thought-provoking that one would doubt it came from a human but a siren. The boy looked up from the book and turned his head to you, catching sight of you again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He looked at you for more than three seconds. You took note of that as it made you smile, yet that smile faltered when you felt your heart dropping to your stomach upon realising the reason why you knocked on the library door and faced him in your sleepwear.

“Yes, Y/N?” Your name always did sound like a melody in his voice. You almost got distracted, but took a step forward and closed the door behind you.

“I was wondering if we could speak.” That statement was firm.

It took him a while, but then, “Sure.”

“It’s about Theo.”

“And what about Theo?” He was quick to reply. You didn’t know if he wanted to talk about him or not, but you were slowly believing it was the latter when he looked away from you and stood up from his chair, putting the book aside on the table.

“I don’t think you like him very much,” you confessed. Your chest heaved up slowly as you sighed in relief of finally telling him the truth, but it wasn’t over yet. It wasn’t even just the beginning.

He paused for a while before resuming to ask gently, “Is that him saying that or is it you that wants to know?”

“Him.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t not like him.” You knew that. No, not the like part although that, you didn’t know whether to trust. You meant him not being gullible enough to believe that it wasn’t him that was asking him that question and you were only there to deliver the missive.

“Look, I only want the truth.”

Ah, so it is you asking that question.

“Why do you need this specific truth?”

Why is he asking you back? That wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t expect him to start turning the tables of who asks who. “I was just thinking, that’s all,” you replied in almost a whisper.

That’s when he crossed his arms and nodded his head, jaw clenching slightly. “We’re both not being truthful at all, are we?”

You lifted your eyebrows in return. “What?”

“It’s half the truth; What I said.” What was that supposed to mean? Your inhalation this time around was shaky. You tried not to crumble and appear as sturdy as possible, but you were close to knowing about the truth and Anthony who had been amiss for the past few weeks.

“Do you want to know the full truth, Y/N?” Lockwood questioned. His voice seemed to be coaxing you out of your trance, like he was taunting you, luring you in with that tone in his voice, but there was a different flavour to it.

Like it was soft, gentle, almost as if he was making it sound childishly alluring enough to show you innocence in which it is bliss in all its glory of the truth. Lockwood here before your presence was willing to be completely honest, and he was making your heart flutter with hope.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he mumbled quietly, eyes glued to yours as you scanned his face for a sign whether he was cracking a joke. There wasn’t any readable hint at all, and you knew just how to handle a situation like that.

Play dumb. You painted a face of confusion, slowly settling your hands to your side after they went numb from clutching your hips. You replied, dragging the emphasis of the question along, “Looks at me like what?”

He took a deep breath and averted his gaze, buying his merry time as he appeared to be lost in thought, mesmerised by how utterly stupid he was starting to feel. This time, it was him that placed his hand on his hip, his other firmly placed on the table next to the chair he warmed with his presence earlier but completely ghosted as he stood. He lifted that hand and rubbed the nape of his neck. He shouldn’t be saying it. He shouldn’t even think it!

But by God, you were driving him mad!

“Like how I’m supposed to look at you.” He could have sworn his hand twitched in response to the urge to slap himself, but he had to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He had to appear better than the guy who had been the object of your attention this past week. Anthony mentally cringed — Why did he say that? He messed up, didn’t he? Ridiculously so!

“Lockwood,” you whispered.

His eyes furrowed, watchful gaze softening at you as if he was going to lose you forever and he was a dead man destined to just watch and watch until his time runs out.

“Anthony,” you corrected yourself. That gave him hope, but he wasn’t just about to rejoice either. You were, after all, Theo’s. Not his.

“But he’s doing it wrong.” Anthony continued without a care in the world. He just wanted this, if it’s the only thing he gets.

He was exhausted from just staring at you from afar, and what’s worse, having another guy in the picture doing all that wondrous romantic work for him.

He’s selfish, fine, but he once had everything when he communicated with your soul and now he had nothing.

Just fleeting hope.

“He’s supposed to see your soul in your eyes, not just his reflection in them. He’s supposed to notice every detail, the colour, the shape — and he’s supposed to remember it for when he thinks of it in sleepless nights.” He took short strides forward to meet you this close as he lifted his hand and brushed the loose strands off your face and tucked them behind your ears. “He’s supposed to tuck your hair like this when it gets in the way or else the message he’s trying to tell you won’t end up being clear.”

“But maybe he should have messages to give you before he looks at you like this at all,” he mumbled. “He should have learned the language of looks. You don’t just deserve words, you deserve the truth, the full picture, every inch of a canvas painted. The Devil knows just how much you like to watch yourself in someone’s eyes, how they perceive you, and you in mine, you’re perfect in every way. Does Theo know that? Is he aware? Do you like how he looks at you?”

You couldn’t talk. You were malfunctioning upon hearing his words. They were all being processed in your head but your understanding also kept shattering.

You felt like a girl again. Not like Theo never treated you like one, it’s just that only Anthony managed to make you feel this way.

“You said it before, Anthony; We can’t happen. We could never, because — ”

“Because I was a coward.”

“Because you had a duty to this agency, and you were thinking of everyone. I agreed on the matter with you.”

“And I had a duty to you.” Your world stopped. Is this the same Anthony? What was he doing being this close to you? Why did you like it? Was he taking his words back from before? Could you possibly happen now? You didn’t know the answer to your own questions. You were in a haze and flurry of questions, but when you searched his eyes now, they were true, deep, lovesick and drunk at the sight of you.

“Theo and I aren’t together, Anthony.” You mumbled without blinking.

You just wanted his breath on your skin, his touch on your cheeks, his eyes all over you and his lips meeting yours. “So what’s holding you back now?” you whispered again, your hand leisurely finding its way on his chest.

His skin was hot underneath his shirt, but you could also feel the fast thumping in his chest. His smile before that didn’t quite reach his eyes now reached the sky and his eyes became starry with the news. For weeks, he thought he’d lost you, and what a fool he was to only know it now that you were there just waiting for him. How could he think that?

“Kiss me.”

You closed your eyes as you closed the vexing gap. Your hand roamed from his chest to his shoulders, looping your arms to hold him close. His hands made their way down to your waist, the other trailing your back and settling on the nape of your neck. His fingers were feather-light on your skin, making the hairs on your neck shiver to the touch.

You never thought you’d feel something like this. You thought it was just the books you read and the films you watched. Now, the boy you thought was a tense duty-first guarded eighteen-year-old was kissing you until the oxygen his body possessed gave out.

How relieved he felt, how soft you were under his touch. He thought of this a million times over when he couldn’t even look at you before, holding you close like this, having your lips on his like this.

He had to firmly shut his already closed eyes again just to make sure it wasn’t a dream, but no, he wasn’t in the midnight voyage of slumber. He was there in his library filled with books and the scent of you that lingered. Sweet and you. You always loved that room and so you’d linger every single day.

He thought it was the books you liked so much. It was, but the best part of it was Anthony Lockwood himself, and he can’t quite complain now, can he?

Meanwhile, Lucy was getting rich with George’s money, but who cares, right? Who knew you and Anthony thrived on angst and it took Theo the bread guy to bring you two together?

Oh, you thought no one knew? Even a kindergartner would know in five minutes.

END NOTE. This is a repost because the original one was butchered by Tumblr's read more link bug that made the paragraphs of the fic disappear and get jumbled.

This paragraph is a test whether the read more link bug will destroy the fic again and make it disappear. Hopefully not, because I can't keep rewriting the last paragraph repeatedly.

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daisies-daydreams · 11 months

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141 Catching F!Reader Pleasuring Herself

Pairing: 141 x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Female Masturbation, Sex Toys, Clit Play, Slight P in V

A/N: Requested by @notthatfanfictionwriter. See this post for the reader's reaction to catching the 141 pleasuring themselves. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Your nostrils flared as you bounced yourself on the dildo suctioned to the bathroom floor. Your fingers were working sloppy circles around your swollen button as you thought about your husband, who was currently deployed. You thought about how his veiny shaft would stroke your walls so much better than any dildo.

“Simon,” you keened as the tip of the sex toy grazed across your g-spot. You cried out in frustration as you raised and lowered your hips desperately, chasing after a high that just wasn’t coming to you. You imagined him taking you raw, and that’s when the cord inside of you finally snapped.

You moaned out his name as your cunt clenched around the shaft of the dildo, your cream creating a ring around your stretched hole. You panted as your body was wracked with waves of pure bliss.

“Enjoyin’ yourself, hun?” Simon’s voice rumbled.

“Jesus!” you screamed as your eyes snapped open. Your husband stood in the threshold of the bathroom: arms crossed and blown pupils staring at your naked bottom half. You couldn’t even get any words out as he stepped over to you, his bulky arms lifting you off of the drenched sex toy. He carried you over to the bed and pulled out his cock, sheathing it inside your wet walls with one thrust.

“I’ll make sure you never want to use that thing again,” he husked.

John “Soap” MacTavish

You rested your forehead against the tiled wall of the shower. Warm water poured down your back as you stuffed your fingers inside your aching cunt. Your boyfriend, Johnny, had to leave for a family emergency right when the two of you were in a heated make-out session. You couldn’t blame him, though you still had the burning ache between your thighs that became too much for you to contain.

“Oh, Johnny-fuck,” you keened as you curled your fingers against the front wall of your pussy. You panted and moaned as your other hand feverishly rubbed against your bundle of nerves. You could feel your fingers starting to wrinkle from how long they’ve been shoved inside your plush walls. You were so wrapped up in your pleasure that you didn’t notice Johnny slipping behind you. You squeaked and froze when a pair of large hands gripped your waist. A familiar chuckle cascaded throughout the shower walls as a set of lips fell across your shoulder.

“Why’d you stop, bonnie? Was enjoyin’ the show you were putin’ on,” Johnny rasped into your ear. You gasped when the tip of his cock prodded against your pussy lips.

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll get to that real soon…after you finish yourself off,” he groaned before raking his teeth over your wet skin.

John Price

You sighed and rolled over in your bed. Your husband, John, was snoring loudly next to you. He hasn’t slept well in a few days, so you understood why he clocked out right when nine o’clock hit. What you couldn’t help was the burning ache between your legs. You bit your lip as you peeked behind your shoulder. John’s eyes were closed, his breathing steady. You felt like a teenager for doing this, but you eventually exhaled as you let your hand fall past your pants and panties.

You stifled a whine as you circled your clit, eventually slipping one of your fingers into your hole. You winced when a wet squelch rippled through the room, clasping your other hand over your mouth as you thrusted and curled your digit inside. You gasped when a pair of burly arms wrapped around you and turned you around. You avoided John’s gaze as he pulled you onto his chest.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just woken me up,” he said bluntly with his usual gruff voice. You nodded before burying your face into his shoulder.

“I-I know. I just didn’t want to wake you since you haven’t been sleeping well,” you confessed. John sighed and patted your back.

“Thank you, love. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to help me out now,” he stated. Your brows furrowed in confusion before you felt something hard poke at your inner thigh.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

You keened as you slid the vibrator along your wet slit. It’s small shockwaves send bolts of pleasure straight into your core.

“Ky,” you moaned your boyfriend’s name as you spread your legs wide across the bed. You ran a hand through your hair as you twirled the tip around your clit, rubbing it tenderly. Kyle had to run down to the police station for a little bit. A little bit turned out to be an hour and, since you were overwhelmed with boredom, you decided to pull out a toy he loved to use on you.

Your thighs trembled as you arched your back, the tip of the toy shallowly breaching your walls. Your hand gripped your hair as you bucked against the vibrator. You whined as you plunged the toy into your wet heat. Feeling it from the inside was an indescribable experience, your mind turning to mush as you were pushed closer to the edge.

“Shit, baby-’m gonna cum,” you groaned.

“Looks like it,” you heard Ky’s voice retort. You gasped and nearly threw the toy across the room. You met Kyle’s dark gaze as vibrations were shaking your walls. You bit your lip as he crawled onto the bed, his hand gripping the toy now as he gave you a sloppy kiss.

“One thing’s for sure, sweetheart-the only way you’ll be cumming tonight is around my cock,” Kyle murmured.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tags: @notthatfanfictionwriter @mrswhitethornbelikov

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milesluna · 4 months

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My Favorite Games of 2023.

Hi. Hello. Thanks ever so much for clicking on this page. Happy to have you.

First thing's first: I'm a little freak when it comes to video games. I don't feel the need to beat most games I play. From Software is one of my favorite studios in the industry and I've never finished a single one of their games. This means, fortunately, that I get to play a LOT more games than the average bear.

I've written up some blurbs about my top ten favorite games from 2023, but before that here's the list of every game I remember playing this year that left any sort of lasting impact on me (in no particular order):

Dead Space Remake Resident Evil 4 Remake F-Zero 99 Humanity Dredge Metroid Prime Remastered Anemoiaplois Alan Wake 2 Baldur’s Gate 3 LoZ Tears of the Kingdom Counter Strike 2 Hunt Showdown El Paso Elsewhere Jusant Slay the Princess| Remnant II The Finals Street FIghter 6 Lethal Company BattleBit Remastered Don’t Scream Homebody The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog Pizza Tower World of Horror Super Mario Wonder Mr. Sun’s Hatbox Fifa 23 Sea of Stars (Demo) Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update)

And the games I played that were NOT released in 2023:

Unpacking Persona 4 Golden Picross 7 The Order 1886 Shovel Knight Dig Lost Planet: Extreme Condition Spider-Man: Miles Morales Pac-Man Championship Edition DX Project Zomboid Quake LoZ The Minish Cap Drill Dozer Wario Land 4 Pokemon Pinball Resident Evil Revelations Summer of ‘58 Trackmania TwinCop We Were Here Visage Cursed Halo CE Half-Life 2 (I probably play this once per year) Witch Hunt Red Dead Redemption 2 Cyberpunk 2077 Borderlands 3 Brutal Legend Cultic Slay the Spire PUBG Rez Infinite Batman Arkham City Alan Wake Alan Wake: American Nightmare Max Payne LoZ: Majora’s Mask 3DS Metroid Prime Metroid Prime 2 Tunic Everhood Final Fantasy VII Final Fantasy VII Remake GOODBYE WORLD Yakuza: Like a Dragon Critters for Sale Dome Keeper Phasmophobia Hades Nintendo Switch Sports

Now that you understand the kind of freak you're dealing with…

Let's dive into my top ten favorite games from this objectively fucked up year.

10. El Paso Elsewhere Developed by Texas indie studio Strange Scaffold, El Paso Elsewhere is a Max Payne-clone with vampires, an opinionated narrator, and lots and lots of bullet time. As a small studio punching well above their weight class, Strange Scaffold leans into abstract, PlayStation 1 minimalism when it comes to visuals and pairs them with a soundtrack that will make your hands sweat. The vibes are here and they're ready for the end of the world. I'm personally also a big fan of everything this studio stands for.

9. Mr. Sun's Hatbox I want you to imagine Metal Gear Solid V. Now I want you to imagine that game as a 2D, level-based, slapstick platformer you can play with up to three friends. If you think that sounds stupid, you'd be right. And it's beautiful. As you build up a secret army of soldiers with various skills (and disorders), you'll start to develop *favorites*. This game constantly asks if you're willing to send those favorites on a harrowing mission and risk losing them forever… or if you'd rather send an idiot you recently captured who blinks constantly and can't kill anyone without fainting.

8. Dredge Every year I feel like I find one game that falls into the “just one more round” category, and baby… Dredge was it for 2023. As a weary fisherman in strange waters, you'll make the most out of your 12 measly hours of sunlight only for your daily voyages to inevitably pull you into the darkness of night, and night is when things get weird. Rocks emerge from the fog that you swear weren't there before, your equipment malfunctions, and you're pretty sure you just saw something in the water… something big. Despite only containing a small collection of islands, the world of Dredge manages to feel vast - perhaps vast enough to swallow you whole.

7. Resident Evil 4 Remake I was curious to see what sort of changes would be made to the timeless classic and father of modern 3rd person shooters, Resident Evil 4. I wasn't let down. RE4 Remake takes all the things that didn't age well about the original, tossed them out, and replaced them with only good things. And MORE things! It's campy, fun, and better than a game of bingo.

6. Jusant I really feel like this one didn't get the recognition it deserves. Jusant is a rock climbing game that combines the quiet contemplation of Journey with the mechanical specificity of Death Stranding. Unlike Death Standing, though, there is very little story to interrupt your flow. There are plenty of collectible bits to find for those curious to learn more about what happened before the events of the game, but the environmental storytelling does most of the heavy lifting. For me, the joy of the game comes from how it feels. Right trigger controls your right hand grip, and left trigger controls left hand grip. Plan your route, manage your stamina, and climb high above the clouds in search of answers.

5. F-Zero 99 This. Shit. Slaps. I've never been a big F-Zero guy, but this MADE me one. The “battle royale”, 99 player format is the perfect fit for the ruthless, high octane world of the game. Races last about three minutes, and friend, they are the most intense, white-knuckled three minutes of your life. The decision to make your boost meter the same as your health meter started in F-Zero 64 (I believe), and it is so much more HARROWING in this game when another player could side-swipe you mere meters from the finish line and blow you to bits. Sadly it's only playable via Switch Online, but it made me cheer, laugh, and scream enough this year to earn a spot in my top 5.

4. Alan Wake 2 Remedy makes weird games that also manage to exist in the AAA space and for that I will forever love them. Although Alan Wake 2 resembles a 3rd person shooter survival horror, I'd honestly say it's more of a narrative game than anything else. There's sidequests, there's puzzles, there's upgradeable skills, but at the end of the day the characters, world, and story are what kept me playing. If you haven't checked them out recently, you should definitely watch a story recap of the original games before diving into this sequel, but the wild swings for the fences this game takes are well worth that small price of admission. There's a god damn musical number, for Christ's sake.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom I've really got nothing to say about this game that most people don't already know. It's incredible. The fact that Nintendo made a game that redefined an entire genre and then made a SEQUEL to it that ups the ante is remarkable. To be honest, I've only cleared the Rito, Zora, and Goron cities. I got a bit tired of exploring the depths and guiding Koroks to their friends, but I can't deny the sheer level of complexity and polish on display here. I saw someone on TikTok build a functioning Mecha Godzilla in this game. Good God. I've heard that the ending of this game is one of the best in the franchise, and if I'd seen it this year then it may have wound up higher on my list, but for the time being I'll continue picking up this masterpiece from time to time, chipping away at it until the day comes that I can finally smack the tits off thicc Ganondorf.

2. Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update) I know I'm gonna get shit for this, but I don't care. This year was the 25th anniversary of Half-Life and Valve released an update that made playing it (and it's online Death Match) much more accessible. I threw it on my Steam Deck out of curiosity, expecting to play for 20 minutes. I could not put it down. It is unbelievable how modern this game still feels. I simply had so much fun sprinting through the corridors of Black Mesa with a dozen weapons strapped to my back, blasting aliens and military Spec-Op chumps as a 24(?!) year old theoretical physicist.

1. Baldur's Gate III This game is fucked up, man. The sheer amount of writing in this game scares me. We can all talk about how BIG this game is, it deserves it, but the thing BG3 does better than any other role playing game I have ever experienced is actually encourage roleplaying. I've played through Act I four times now, with four different groups of friends, and it has felt fresh every time. I have seen the same events play out in so many different ways that it boggles the mind, but in every one of those play sessions I see players asking themselves “What would my lil guy do here?” rather than "what is the best thing to do here?" The game rewards players constantly for just trying shit and the D&D 5e rule set means playing like the character you said you were from the start leads to frequent Points of Inspiration. Maybe one day I'll see the end of this story (probably not), but I don't have to in order to feel a connection with BG3's world, characters, and most impressively, the characters I made myself.

Honorable Mentions for 2023

5. Dave the Diver 4. Homebody 3. Sea of Stars 2. Humanity 1. Super Mario Wonder

Top 5 Favorites NOT from 2023

5. Metroid Prime 4. Final Fantasy VII Remake 3. Cursed Halo (Halo CE Mod) 2. Red Dead Redemption 2 1. Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask (3DS)

Games I didn't have a chance to play from 2023 but still want to when I find more time...

Viewfinder Venba Chants of Sennaar Thirsty Suitors Hi-Fi Rush Moonring Armored Core VI Laika Aged Through Blood Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

OKAY THANKS BYE!

#video games #2023 #GOTY

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