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#especially considering its length
viperwhispered · 29 days
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Too Little
Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go. Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov Previous parts: part one, part two
This was stupid.
Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.
It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind. 
Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.
Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.
Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.
So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to his memory and played over and over.
He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.
Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.
What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-
No. No no no. He would not go there.
Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.
This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.
Yet, there was no getting out of it.
He wanted you.
He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.
Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.
Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.
What kind of people did you like, anyway?
Charming? Intelligent? Funny?
Rich and influential? 
Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?
Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.
Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.
To have you.
To be yours.
To know and be known.
He huffed and turned over onto his back.
As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.
And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?
Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.
After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.
Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.
He’d have to do something about this.
Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.
But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.
Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.
If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?
Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.
He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.
And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.
As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.
As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.
Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.
So, what choice did he have but to act?
You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.
All he could do was take control of what he could.
Eta: you can find part 4 here and part 5 / the final part here. Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well. Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system. I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point. Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).
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andromedasummer · 4 months
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huh, the amount of people who perceived themes other than eugenics and transhumanism in regards to evolution in phyrexia is very interesting to me
#just. Huh!#i get the aesthetic appeal dont get me wrong the entire design for phyrexia is very cool#but considering the core philosophies behind the creation of original phyrexia and how that bleeds into new phyrexia#the amount of people i see who go to great lengths to kind of. twist it into a leftist or trans symbol is fascinating#when at its core its based upon an ideology that seeks to ''perfect'' perceived ''flaws'' like being transgender#but at the same time transhumanism and the idea of changing your body to something optimal is also heavily significant#thematically when it comes to trans stories. especially when considering the perception of so many people that transitioning is somehow#a mutilation of the human body that turns someone into a monster (wrong). so i can see why other trans people#would identify with phyrexia in that vein. being seen as monsters for undergoing such a procedure#for me phyrexia and the procedure behind phyresis has always come off more as an allegory#for medical procedures done to ''perfect/fix'' the unwilling. forced reassignment for intersex people or lobotomization of the disabled#sterilization of the “undesireable”.#esp with yawgmoths (self proclaimed eugenicist though his writer was kinda confused abt what eugenics actually is)#malpractice and violence upon the masses and views on race and the reverence that phyrexia (his creations of course) hold for hi#*him#and the facets of that worship which continued to exist into new phyrexia
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nonsupe-a · 1 year
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a lot of s4 is unknown mostly cause i haven’t gone digging and it’ll probably stay that way but thinking about the fact that shiloh probably has to bury himself deep in all of vought + h0melanders bullshit to burn all ties that could lead to an easy victory for him,   stalling any process as much as he can.   having to deal with all that Nightmare aftermath of half the tower blowing up in wake of s0ldier boy and maeve.   dealing with the congresswoman immediately after.
thinking about how shiloh won’t get to rest any easier in s4.   how much more he’ll give of himself and how he’ll be even more go go go,   playing the sides to his advantage when and where he can for that end goal.
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wtfsteveharrington · 24 days
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don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie
content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 
mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**
she/her pronouns used for reader!
author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3
word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!
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If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 
In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 
He’s protective, that’s all. 
The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 
“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”
It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 
The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 
you drive me crazy when you start to tease
You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.
you could bring the devil to his knees
Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -
“Holy shit.”
No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.
“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 
You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”
The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 
He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.
You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”
The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 
feel my heat takin' you higher. 
burn with me, heaven's on fire. 
paint the sky with desire.
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 
He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 
It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.
Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 
Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”
Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 
You’re coughing. 
Like, way more than normal. 
Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 
“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 
Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 
When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 
It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..
Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?
You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 
“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 
Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 
“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 
“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.
He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 
You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.
The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 
Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.
Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.
He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.
Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.
“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”
Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.
“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.
“Huh.”
It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”
Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.
“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”
You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.
Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.
“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”
You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 
“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”
Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.
“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.
You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 
“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 
His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 
“Then kiss me.”
Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.
He’s not though. 
Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 
Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 
Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.
The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 
Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 
Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 
Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 
“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 
The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 
You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.
Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.
Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 
You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 
He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.
"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.
It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.
Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."
You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.
Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.
All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.
It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.
Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 
“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 
Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.
"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"
Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."
Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.
His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.
Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.
You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.
There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.
This is crazy.
Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.
It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.
He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.
Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."
Eddie's going to fucking combust.
Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."
And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.
Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.
Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"
He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."
Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”
The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."
Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.
Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.
Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.
You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 
There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 
You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 
Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 
Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 
Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 
“How does she feel, Munson?”
“Like fuckin’ heaven.”
Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.
He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.
To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.
He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.
Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.
“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”
You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.
Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.
And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 
It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 
You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.
Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.
He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.
You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.
"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.
He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.
“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”
Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”
Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.
You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.
Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.
“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”
Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.
And they’re both moaning.
Neither pulling away.
Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.
It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.
Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.
Right?
So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.
And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?
Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 
The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ���pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 
Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”
It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.
You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 
Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”
He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.
There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 
Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.
He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 
Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 
Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.
He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 
It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 
“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 
His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.
Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 
You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 
Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 
Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 
Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”
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cripplecharacters · 9 days
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Disabilities that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More… part 1
[large text: Disabilities that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More… part 1]
While all disabilities are underrepresented in basically all sorts of media, it’s hard to not notice the trend in what disabilities make up the majority of representation. It’s especially visible when having a blog like this, where we can see what disabilities writers even consider including in their writing, and which ones never come up.
One in four people are disabled. With eight billion people alive it means there’s a lot of disabled people, and a lot of reasons why they are disabled in the first place - but this diversity is rarely represented, even on this blog, and anyone who has been following for a while has probably noticed that fact.
To be blunt: there are disabilities other than “amputee” and “(otherwise invisibly disabled) mobility aid user”. Does that mean that it’s wrong to write either of those? Of course not, and we don’t want to imply that it is. Does it mean that when you are deciding on what to give your character, you should think beyond just those two? Absolutely. Disability is a spectrum with thousands of things in it - don’t limit yourself for no reason and embrace the diversity that’s built into it instead. 
This is, simply, a list of common disabilities. This is just a few of them, as this is part one of presumably many (or, at least three as of right now). By “common” we rather arbitrarily decided on “~1% or more” - so at least 1 in 100 people has the disabilities below, which is a lot. Featuring!: links that you should click, sources of the % that are mostly just medical reports and might be hard to read, and quick, very non-exhaustive explanations to give you a basic idea of what these are. 
Intellectual disability (about 1.5%) Intellectual disability is a condition we have written about at length before. It’s a developmental disability that affects things such as conceptualization, language, problem-solving, or social and self-care skills. ID can exist on its own or be a part of another condition, like Down Syndrome, Congenital Iodine Deficiency, or Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders. This post covers a lot of basic information that you might need. We have an intellectual disability tag that you can look through!
Cancer survivors (5.4% in the US, about 0.55% worldwide) A cancer survivor is a pretty self-explanatory term. There is a lot of types of cancer and some of them are very common while others are very rare, which makes this a very diverse category. Cancers also have different survival rates. While not every survivor will have disabling symptoms, they definitely happen. Most of the long-term side effects are related to chemotherapy, radiation, and other medication, especially if they happened in children. They can include all sorts of organ damage, osteoporosis, cognitive problems, sensory disabilities, infertility, and increased rate of other cancers. Other effects include removal of the affected area, such as an eye, a spleen, breasts, or the thyroid gland, each of which will have different outcomes. Cancer, and cancer treatments, can also result in PTSD.
Diabetes (about 8.5%, ~95% of that are type 2) Diabetes is a group of endocrine conditions that cause hyperglycemia (high blood sugar) for various reasons depending on the type. The vast majority of people have type 2 diabetes, which can cause fatigue, poor healing, or feeling thirsty or hungry. A diabetic person will use insulin when needed to help manage their blood sugar levels. There are many complications related to diabetes, from neuropathy, to retinopathy, and chronic kidney disease, and there's a lot of disabilities that coexist with diabetes in general! You might want to check out the #how to write type 1 diabetes tag by @type1diabetesinfandom!
Disabling vision loss (about 7.5%) Blindness and low vision are a spectrum, ranging from total blindness (around 10% of legally blind people) to mild visual impairment. Blindness can be caused by countless things, but cataracts, refractive errors, and glaucoma are the most common. While cataracts cause the person to have a clouded pupil (not the whole eye!) blind eyes usually look average, with strabismus or nystagmus being exceptions to that fairly often (but not always). Trauma isn't a common cause of blindness, and accidents are overrepresented in fiction. A blind person can use a white cane, a guide dog or horse, or both. Assistive solutions are important here, such as Braille, screenreaders, or magnifying glasses. We have a blindness tag that you can look through, and you might want to check out @blindbeta and @mimzy-writing-online.
Psoriasis (about 2-4%) Psoriasis is a chronic skin condition with multiple subtypes; it can cause intense itching, pain, and general discomfort, and often carries social stigma. It’s an autoimmune and non-contagious disability that affects the skin cells, resulting in raised patches of flaky skin covered with scales. It often (30%) leads to a related condition, psoriatic arthritis, which causes joint pain, tenderness, and fatigue, among other things.
Stroke survivors (0.5-1%) A stroke survivor is a person who has survived any kind of stroke (ischemic, hemorrhagic, etc.). While the specific symptoms often depend on the exact location on where the stroke happened, signs such as hemiplegia, slurred speech, vision problems, and cognitive changes are common in most survivors to some degree. When someone has a stroke as a baby, or before they are born, it can result in cerebral palsy, epilepsy, and other disabilities. We have a brain injury tag that you can look through!
Noonan Syndrome (about 0.1-1% - mild is 1%, severe 0.1%) Noonan Syndrome is a disability that is almost never mentioned in any context, but certainly not around the topic of writing disabled characters. It’s a congenital condition that can cause cardiomyopathy, chronic joint pain, hypermobility, short stature, facial differences such as ptosis, autism, and various lymphatic problems among other things. Some people with Noonan Syndrome might use mobility aids to help with their joint pain.
Hyperthyroidism (about 1.2%) Hyperthyroidism is a condition of the endocrine system caused by hormone overproduction that affects metabolism. It often results in irritability, weight loss, heat intolerance, tremors, mood swings, or insomnia. Undertreated hyperthyroidism has a rare, but extremely dangerous side effect associated with it called a thyroid storm, which can be fatal if untreated.
Hypothyroidism (>5%) Hypothyroidism is an endocrine condition just as hyperthyroidism is, and it causes somewhat opposite symptoms. Due to not producing enough thyroid hormones, it often causes fatigue, depression, hair loss, weight gain, and a frequent feeling of being cold. It’s often comorbid with other autoimmune disabilities, e.g. vitiligo, chronic autoimmune gastritis, and rheumatoid arthritis. Extreme hypothyroidism can also be potentially fatal because of a condition known as Myxedema coma (or “crisis”), which is also rare.
Deafblindness (about 0.2-2%) Being DeafBlind is often considered to be an extremely rare disability, but that’s not really the case. DeafBlindness on its own isn’t a diagnosis - it can be caused by a wide range of things, with CHARGE syndrome (congenital), Usher syndrome (born deaf, becomes blind later in life), congenital rubella, and age-related deafness and blindness being some of the most common reasons. DeafBlindness is a wide spectrum, the vast majority of DeafBlind people aren’t fully blind and deaf, and they can use various ways of communication. Some of these could be sign language (tactile or not), protactile, the deafblind manual, oral speech (aided by hearing aids or not), the Lorm alphabet, and more. You can learn more about assistive devices here! Despite what various media like to tell you, being DeafBlind isn’t a death sentence, and the DeafBlind community and culture are alive and thriving - especially since the start of the protactile movement. We have a DeafBlindness tag that you can look through!
It’s probably worth mentioning that we have received little to no asks in general for almost all the disabilities above, and it’s certainly not due to what mods answer for - majority of our inbox is amputee-related, and we haven’t had mods that answer those for somewhere around four years now. Our best guess is that writers don’t realize how many options they have and just end up going for the same things over and over.
Only representing “cool” disabilities that are “not too much while having a particular look/aura/drama associated” isn’t what you should aim for. Disabled people just exist, and all of us deserve to be represented, including those whose disabilities aren’t your typical “cool design” or “character inspo”. Sometimes we are just regular people, with disabilities that are “boring” or “too much”, and don’t make for useful plot points.
mod Sasza (with huge thank yous to mod Sparrow, Rot, and Virus for their contributions with research and data!)
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mariasont · 19 days
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Spoiled - A.H
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a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did
think im ovulating or something YALL IDK
anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it
warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!
wc: 3.3k
"Penelope Grace Garcia!"
Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.
"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."
"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.
You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 
"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."
Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 
"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."
"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.
"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.
You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.
"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."
"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 
The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."
Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.
Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.
He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.
The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.
The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 
The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.
"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.
He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.
You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.
Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.
"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."
His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.
"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."
You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 
Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.
"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."
You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 
After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.
"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.
You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.
"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 
A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.
"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 
You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.
"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.
He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 
"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."
"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."
There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 
You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.
You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.
With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.
A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.
But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 
You went back to your phone.
Hi
The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.
"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.
You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"
His response is quick. "You could never bother me."
A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.
"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"
"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."
You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.
"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."
"You know."
You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.
"I don't know, sweetheart."
Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.
"Where are you?"
"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"
Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."
"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."
Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.
"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."
"Yes, it's for you, baby."
You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.
"Why?"
His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 
"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.
You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.
"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.
You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.
"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"
"Yeah."
You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."
"Aaron..."
He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"
Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.
You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."
Wow you're sure you fooled him.
"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."
A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 
"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.
"Where, sweetheart?"
You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.
"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.
He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.
"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."
Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.
"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."
"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."
You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"There you go, that's my girl."
You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.
"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"
You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.
"Okay."
It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.
His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.
But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.
"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.
"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."
"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.
You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.
It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?
"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.
"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."
"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"
You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.
"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."
You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.
The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.
"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."
Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.
"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 
"Go ahead, sweetheart."
That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.
You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.
"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."
You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.
"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.
"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."
He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 
"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."
His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."
"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"
"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Attachment
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There's something growing between the two of you- or are you simply growing closer?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, reader is a bit jumpy, some more lore, smut, slow sex, position changes, mentioned round two, some angy jungkook (but not at reader), some angst in the end but it's all resolved dw
Length: 7.2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: I did not proofread this I'm sorry
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"Do you even know where we're going?" Jungkook worries, sitting next to you on the subway, but you just shrug.
"I know how to get back though, that's more important." You simply say, making him even more nervous.
Jungkook isn't used to giving up control like this. He's not used to being spontaneous and just doing things out of the blue because you feel like it. Things have to be structured, planned out and with a Plan B to go with it in case something goes wrong. He's an overthinker, and it shows, as he keeps looking around and asking.
"Just relax. There's a park nearby that I wanna go to. We can get some food close by and just eat it there." You say, and he sighs.
"I'm sorry." He admits, leaning back into the seat to try and relax more.
"Its alright. Most people panic whenever I talk about trips I take." You laugh.
"Do you travel a lot?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Used to. But.. he was more of a homebody. Didn't like staying at hotels." You explain, watching the scenery pass by next to you outside the window. "He kind of ruined it for me because he'd just.. continuously point out flaws in everything." You say, and Jungkook listens quietly. "Flaws that I'd.. overlook most of the time, because, nothing's ever perfect anyways, so why focus on that all the time?" You giggle, looking at him now.
"I'd disagree, but also agree." He chuckles. "There can be perfect things. It's just a matter of perspective, and how it's perceived by someone." He offers. "What's perfect to one might not be for another." Jungkook explains, and you nod.
"Thats the more.. complicated way of explaining it, I guess." You joke.
"I tend to overcomplicate things." He bashfully agrees, making you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You'll.. tell me when I get too much, right?" You ask quietly, and he nods, arm wrapping around you as if to reassure.
"I will, don't worry." He reassures you, before he moves to pull your hand up to kiss the back for it-
A gesture that makes you blush, especially from the people around you fawning over it as well.
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He's caught off guard when you walk around in nothing but underwear, visibly unbothered by him seeing you like this.
"Do you.. want to join me?" You ask. "The tub is a bit small but..?" You question, looking over your shoulder at him, who looks oddly unsure. Considering you both have had sex twice now- or more so once, really, it's odd to think that he's like this now. Is it because the nature of your.. whatever it is, has changed?
You're no longer just strangers without any connection. There's something deeper now growing. And maybe that's what's putting him under pressure.
"If you'd like me to." He shrugs.
"Only if you want." You say. "I won't be upset if you say no. I'm a big girl, I can handle rejection." You giggle, and he chuckles as well, smile a bit less tense as before.
"I'm sure you can." He agrees. "Though I'd be stupid to reject." He jokes, getting up to walk closer to you.
"Or simply cautious." You shrug. "Nothing wrong with that." You remind him, but he simply nods, and follows you into the bathroom. The water is streaming in, hot, soap bubbling up. Jungkook watches how you easily shed your last items of clothing before you sink into the water, and he does the same now, revealing himself bare to join you in the barely big enough tub behind you.
You're comfortably leaning against his front, very obviously not shy about this at all- and in a way, oddly enough, it seems to rub off on him, as he feels himself relax with you so close. "I want to move into an apartment with a bathtub one day." You giggle randomly.
"Does yours not have one?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"No, it's too small for one." You deny. "Does yours?" You ask, and he hums his answer.
"It.. I have both. One guest bathroom with a shower. The main one has a tub." He explains to you. "Maybe.. you could come over someday. See it for yourself." Jungkook chuckles.
"Hm. Maybe. When you want me to." You say.
"I do want you to-" He starts, feeling like he needs to argue- though he's not sure what about.
"I know, but you also don't, and that's fine." You laugh. "I.. you know, I kind of get the vibe from you that.." you start, but drift off.
"..that?" He softly urges, hands now moving underneath the water to find yours to hold.
"..that you're not used to.. you know. People asking for permission. Or just.. I don't know." You shrug. "You're always so surprised whenever I do nothing but simply take your feelings into account. You seem so caught off guard whenever I ask you if you're okay with things." You tell him, and his eyes stare at the slowly disappearing soapy bubbles on the water surface as he begins to think.
It's true that it's not common. He's the man- always has been one, and with that always came the burden of decisions. Evelyn always took the things he did for granted- saw it as something natural. The fact that he provided her with a place to stay, money and security was just a given to her, and so was the fact that whenever she decided where to go for dinner, or what to do on his days off. He always drove her to her appointments, always had to please her, treat her right, because that's always been his role to play.
So, you're right. He's not used to being given a choice, asked for permission, or questioned whether or not he was okay with something. And it's become so normal for him, that he truly believed that that was how things had to be like-
and maybe that's also why he was so hesitant with you. Why he still hesitates.
What if he does something wrong? What if he decides something you don't like? What if he's not what you want him to be?
You want him to be himself. But he's not sure he even knows how to be himself anymore.
"You should.. be more selfish, you know?" You say, voice echoing off the walls a little as you move around in the water. "Then I won't feel so bad every time I want to ask you to do something for me." You laugh, joking- but he catches the hidden words.
"You can ask anything of me." He chuckles. "Trust me, I can make decisions just fine." He reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
"I'm not doubting that!" You laugh. "But just- You're.. really nice, and I'm kind of scared I'll screw this up." You sigh, trying to sit up and lean away from him- but he holds you towards him, keeping you close.
"There's no 'screwing up' for either of us. We might not work out for reasons, but I doubt we'll really.. screw up like you say." He offers kindly. "I kind of.. just want to be with you for the next few days. Nothing more, nothing less."
"In what way?" You almost whisper, and he chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"In whatever way you'd like." He hums against your skin, hands traveling up and down the length of your arms.
"What way would you like?" You ask, and he leans his head a little to rest his face in the crook of your neck.
"Right now.. exactly this." He sighs out. "I'm enjoying this a lot." He reveals, and at that, you lean back into him, and you can feel the way his lips twist into a smile against your skin.
"Is.. what made you fall in love with uhm.. Evelyn was it, right?" You ask, and he nods.
"I'm not sure." He admits. "She was pretty. She liked me, or at least that's what she told me- asked me out one night, and I just said yes because why not?" He shrugs, water sloshing around a bit at that movement. "I didn't.. have much interest in her back then, but I felt like it could just.. grow down the line."
"I mean, she's still pretty from what I could tell." You giggle, though he shakes his head. "No?" You wonder, and again, he shakes.
"Not anymore." He denies. Maybe conventionally attractive. Physically." Jungkook sighs. "But inside, she's just.. ugly."
You nod at that. You understand what he means.
"What about Greg?" He wonders, since the situation seems as good as ever to gain some more information on the guy he's never even seen before.
"He was.. or, you know, isn't as tall as you. A bit shorter. Uhm.. harsher facial features." You remember. "He always looked a little intimidating to me. But I thought it was just appearance. He used to be really nice to me, you know?" You explain, before you sigh. "But.. I don't know. Over time, after we started living together, it just went downhill." You explain to the man currently holding you. "There were warning signs before, sure- but I thought he was just stressed."
Jungkook listens, and makes sure you know that he is doing it- though he also provides some slight physical comfort as well.
"I should've left when he started to yell at me. Insult me, you know? But I didn't. I thought, if I was nice enough.." You stare at the bubbles slowly dissolving. "..I thought it would be okay."
"You were in love." He reassures you. "And we do stupid things when we're in love." Jungkook admits, making you nod as you lift your head a little to look at him.
Finally realizing that while his situation might not have been the same-
he still understands. More than anyone else.
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The next day starts rather.. interesting to him.  
He's wondering how long it'll take for you to snap- because he's noticed that some of his habits and behaviours are clearly getting onto your nerves. But he's not hiding any of it away- you need to face the truth after all, that he's no angel, and no perfect man without any flaws. He's not sugarcoating things- but you are. And he's waiting for you to drop that façade.  
You're never truly relaxing. You act like you are- but he knows you're not.  
Meanwhile he's just himself, even exaggerates some of what he knows are his nasty habits- and you're just quietly stepping over his pants thrown in the middle of the floor in the hotel room, though he notices the way your eyes cling to them for a good second. And when you actually trip over them on your way out, it's when you finally decide to speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums, lifting his head from his phone to look at you. "Can you.. could you maybe try and I don't know.. put your clothes in one place only?" You ask, meekly, and that's when he notices something important. When he realizes something. 
You seem awfully.. wary saying that. Almost fearful.  
Oh. 
"Of course." He nods, getting up to put them away- and your reaction to that, is that just instantly fall into apologizing for your words- as if what you said could've insulted him in some way.  
"It's just that you could lose something you know?" You hum, wringing your hands anxiously. "And maybe you trip too and-" 
"It's fine, really." Jungkook reassures you after dropping his pants and shirt that's been laying around in his still opened travel bag, now turning towards you. "Come here." He sighs, and you do, walking close to him until he pulls you in and hugs you. "I'm not mad." He offers, and from the way you tense up, he realizes he's hit the nail on the head. "I'll never be mad- never like that. I can promise you that much."  
"I'm sorry." You apologize. "I know you're not like that-"  
"But it's a habit, I get it." He offers, before he lets you go to look at you properly. "I can imagine why you feel like you have to apologize right now- but there's no need to pacify me." He tells you. “I’m not angry.” 
"I know. I'm sorry- I never thought you were like that either." You sigh.  
“Small steps.” He chuckles. “We’ve got time.” he reassures. “Let’s go out and see if we can find a restaurant we want to eat at, hm? Something casual.” He teases lightly, making you nod.  
Just like he said- it’s a habit.  
You’re so used to having to justify your actions, having to apologize for everything, having to just suck it up and get over it that it’ll be probably a long road until you’re truly free again. Does he want to deal with that? Maybe not, maybe he’s just too nice to say it right now because you’re..  well, stuck together in this hotel on this trip together for a few more days to come, since he ended up making an entire week out of the three day trip. Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable,  because he’s just a nice guy like that.  
“Hey.” He rips you out of your thoughts. “let’s order room service instead.” He offers, and you’re confused.  
“But you wanted to eat out?” You wonder. “and.. we’re wasting an entire day by staying inside-“  
“We’re not wasting anything.” He chuckles. “I went on this trip with you to spend time with you. Which is what I’m doing right now.” He offers you, pulling your hands to have you close as he sits on the edge of the bed you both share. “you’re getting stressed. Tell me how I can help you.” He asks gently, as you sit on his thighs, unsure.  
You don’t know why you’re so on edge today. You can’t turn it off.  
“it just feels like.. any second now, something might happen.” You sigh, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not used to things being so.. okay.”  
“I understand that.” He nods. “you’ll get used to it in the future, I promise.” Jungkook makes sure to tell you, before he takes your hands again. “can I.. ask you something? And please don’t.. I’m not going to say the things I’ll say because something is  wrong with you or anything.” He says, and you nod for him to go on. “have you considered.. talking to someone about your past experiences? Someone professional?” He wonders, but you shake your head.  
“I feel like.. it wasn’t bad enough to really go to therapy for it. Lots of people go through tough times like that, and they manage just fine.” You shrug. “I’m just being dramatic about it. Like you said, I’ll get used to it with time.” You defend yourself by instinct.  
“You’ve been through something traumatic. There’s no.. threshold of how bad something needs to be to be able to seek out help.” He explains with a gentle tone of voice. “I’m not going to force you, obviously. But just so you know, your pain isn’t invalid just because others had it worse.” He says. “Think about it, at some point. Doesn’t have to be right now.”  
“I’ll.. keep it in mind.” You nod. “thank you.” You offer him, and he nods as well.  
“Nothing to thank me for.” 
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Jungkook is agitated.  
He’s been silent for a bit now, desperately searching for a spot to charge the electric rental car at- but all he finds are either in use or out of order. It’s raining too, meaning there’s not really anything you both could do other than just drive back to the hotel- but this charging spot has to work now, or the car won’t make it back.  
Everything is just going wrong.  
From the restaurant reservation somehow getting mixed up, to his phone constantly ringing because people won’t let him have his days off- poor device slipping out his hand at some point as he’d wanted to take it out the pocket of his pants, clattering to the ground, screen cracked in several places. Then, he’s informed of something urgent at work- he’s needed back earlier than he wanted to take time off for, meaning you’ll have to pack your things tonight already to fly back home by tomorrow morning.  
And now, as he gets out wordlessly to take the charger from the station, he reaches his breaking point.  
“fucking hell!” He barks out as he’s back inside the car, hand hitting the steering wheel once as the car denies any further distance. And he’s got tunnel vision too- not noticing the way you instinctively flinch next to him.  
But it’s just a habit of your body. Your mind knows that Jungkook’s anger doesn’t work like you’re used to.  
He’s on the phone, talking to a coworker when you take the chance to undo your seatbelt, before you open the door. His hand reaches out, softly holding your coat to send you an confused glance- worried even that he might’ve caused you distress. But you  give him a smile in return, and get out to walk into the gas station, finding an employee.  
“Sorry- I was just wondering.. the charging station outside doesn’t seem to work?” You ask, and the man behind the counter nods.  
“Oh? Yeah it does it sometimes. Let me come check it, it’ll probably just need a restart.” The man shrugs, taking some keys with him before he walks back out with you trailing after him. “Ah yeah, stupid thing got a little crazy again. Go sit inside though, you’ll catch a cold!” He laughs, waving you towards the car standing in front of the little station. “let me know when it starts charging.”  
You instead walk to open the trunk however, fetching an umbrella instead to hold over the man’s head- something he laughs at but thanks you for either way as he taps around on the panel.  
Jungkook watches from inside, using this moment to calm down again.  
He didn’t think at all. Did he scare you? Probably, considering he can be quite scary to other people as well if he gets frustrated like this. He hates how things like these just bubble beneath his skin all day until it boils over- especially considering that he’s been so eager to make sure that you know he’s not one to get angry easily. And yet here he is, having just yelled at a car for not working.  
Maybe he’s not the right person for you after all. You need someone calm and collected, not someone like him.  
Suddenly, the car chimes up, telling him it’s finally starting to charge- and outside, you’re thanking the man with the thick grey beard with a grateful smile, one he returns just as warmly before he walks back into the gas station with you. And when you emerge back out, you’re holding two cups of coffee to go- rain soaking your hair as you hold the closed umbrella beneath your arm.  
Inside the car again, you offer one of the cups towards him as if nothing happened. “I didn’t know if.. you liked sugar or creamer with yours.” You say. “so I brought some of both.” You say, putting the little packages of sugar and creamer on the mid console- where his hand suddenly finds yours, silver rings catching your attention for a second.  
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologizes, fingers tracing your cooled down hand that holds your own cup of hot liquid. “I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”  
“You’re stressed.” You shrug. “Its understandable. Just.. maybe take a moment to calm down right now?” You offer, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.  
“thank you.” He says, before you nod and reach for the sugar packages to dump some into what he realizes is tea.  
“The car is really quiet when it drives.” You say, and he nods, taking a sip from his coffee.  
“It makes no sound.” He confirms. “the most you hear.. are really just the wheels on the road. The engine isn’t  loud at all.” He explains.  
“so when we drive fast it’s not the engine getting louder?” You ask, and he shakes his head.  
“No. It’s all just friction, and the air passing over the car.” He tells you.  
“Its kind of funny how far we’ve come.” You say, slipping out of your shoes to get comfortable in your seat, rain falling onto the roof of the car. “like, we have cars that we can just.. charge like phones. It feels weird.” You giggle, resting your head against the seat, while your back leans against the door.  
“Do you have a driver’s license?” He asks, and you shake your head.  
“I’m too scared to drive.” You deny. “I couldn’t handle memorizing all the rules and keeping them in mind at all times. I rather.. like being the passenger.” You nod. “you drive really well. I’d sleep if we went on a road trip.” You say, and he smiles.  
“I take that as a compliment.” He tells you, and you nod.  
“It was meant to be one.” You affirm. “earlier.. it was funny.” You say, suddenly not looking at anything- and he knows what you mean by ‘earlier’. “it’s like.. my body still reacts the same, but my head knows there’s no danger.” You explain. “they’re.. detached, in a way.”  
“I’m really sorry I lashed out like that.” He apologizes again.  
“don’t be.” You shake your head. “I need to face those situations too. There’s..  no use in wrapping me in bubble wrap. After all, you wanted to see if I can handle you, right?” You ask, and he nods. “See? I think my mind can. My body might not to some degree.”  
“we can work on that.” He gently offers. “your.. body will learn too. I want you to heal with me.” He says, and you nod.  
“I want that too.” You say. “I want you to heal with me too, even if all I can offer is just.. well, nothing.” You laugh, but he shakes his head.  
“You offer me this.” He explains, eyes watching you as his hand reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “you offer me a break. A.. moment to calm down, like you said.” He reminds you of your words.  
“if that’s what you need, I can be just that.” You say, and he nods.  
“I couldn’t ask for more.” 
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You’re late, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He’d told himself to wait and not really indulge in any of this as long as you both don’t really know for sure where you want to take this- but you’re like a drug he can’t help but fall back on, a habit he can’t shake off. And it all happened so naturally, no words spoken as you both simply understood what the other was craving.  
Right now, everything is slow. You’re not even really undressed, him having kicked off his underwear beneath the covers, having had to somewhat get up and pull his travel bag closer to find a condom in there he had packed just in case, even though he did not plan for this.
It should have been his moment of realization. But he just couldn’t hold himself back after the lazy, but warm and almost comforting foreplay you two had indulged in after just having woken up, barely conscious.  
Your shirt is simply pushed up to reveal your naked skin beneath, and his hands are slow as they tug your underwear down your legs, sticky with your arousal from the earlier pleasure he’d brought you with nothing but his hand. You’re so warm from sleeping so close to him underneath the blanket you shared, eyes closed as you enjoy his offering of affection to you, kissing up your neck as he positions himself above you.  
There’s still no need for words. And he also fears that any sentence uttered by him could shatter this delicate moment between the two of you.  
Even though you should’ve woken up an hour ago, making you terribly late now, he just has to have this right now. It’s not just sex, and he hopes it’s not just that to you either- because this feels like a soft confession that’s not done in words, but actions instead. You really do offer him a feeling of weightlessness, as if time doesn’t exist, and no one expects anything of him. You just take him as he is, no questions asked.  
Maybe you’re this timeless because it doesn’t matter to you yet, considering the difference in age between you two. Should he feel bad about it then?  
Possibly. But then again, just like he’s using you to escape his own responsibilities and the pressure of his life, you’re using him just as much for a stable person to hold onto and rely on. And he’s fine with that. A good, healthy relationship should always have a balanced exchange. Give and take in equal amounts. Will this all become a problem in the future? Will you one day realize that he’s not able to offer you all the experiences you should have made in your twenties?  
Maybe. But even so, he realizes you’re right. It still wouldn’t be wasted time, if it’s spent with you.  
So what if he has to book and pay for another flight because you’ll surely miss the one he chose last night? He really couldn’t care less, because there’s no way he’s going to rush this. It’s the first chance at proper sex with you, finally a moment where he can give you actual attention as you deserve, not some quick fuck in the car or random blowjob on your couch. This isn’t just to satisfy your urges.  
This is a chance for him to show you love. 
And it’s clear that this is new to you- because you’re restless, as if you’re constantly expecting him to change pace, go faster, begin to rush towards his own pleasure. But he doesn’t, because that’s not his goal at all. His actual goal is to somewhat prove a point to you- that what he’s offering is not what you’re used to, in no way. He doesn’t see you as someone replaceable, someone who just has to be there, who has to listen to his every demand and do exactly as he says.  
No- he wants you to be yourself. He wants you to gain back that autonomy you rightfully deserve.  
Because one of the biggest things he noticed is how you constantly seem to live in a state of trying to pacify him at all times. As if you have to make sure he’s always happy and content with decisions made and words said, and he wonders just how bad your past relationship must’ve been to cause you to develop such behavior. So right now, he’s attempting to show you that he’s quite honestly the most calm around you anyways, even if you don’t do anything at all but exist alongside him.  
That’s enough already. He doesn’t need anything special from you, but yourself.  
Do you feel it? The way he’s pushing himself inside you isn’t an act of pure lust, but an attempt to connect with you, oddly enough. Jungkook has never seen sex as just that- but he has to admit that with Evelyn, the act had lost it’s appeal to him over time, mostly because he both knew that she was seeking out other people’s company aside from his own, and also because it just felt empty and unfulfilling to him. There was nothing to be gained from it, not for him at least- it only made him feel dirty and used, and towards the end of his relationship with her, he couldn’t bare to really let her touch him any longer. 
No matter what intention she had.  
But right now, with you, he’s feeling something- an urge he’s not felt in a long time, an excitement for possibilities and an eagerness to explore. And right now, he wants to take his time, watch you squirm beneath him, maybe even push you towards the limit of your patience. Will you beg?  
Why does that sound so arousing to him?  
He’s curious to know what you enjoy, what you want to explore, what you think about when you feel that specific need. He wants to ask what it was like before, has so many questions- but he also doesn’t want to speak right now, feels like this is neither the place nor perfect time to have a conversation like this. So instead, he just does what feels right- 
And judging by the way you sigh and reach out to touch him as well, it appears to be exactly what you like as well.  
Though he can also spot that impatience of yours growing, his smile not possible to be hidden as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, simply enjoying the closeness of it all as his hands run up and down over your body, exploring what he’s already seen before by now. But it doesn’t get old, doesn’t get boring- it never will be, most likely. He doesn’t know how long this will last, how long you’ll stay with him, or how long he’ll stay with you- but he wouldn’t mind to have you at his side long term, he knows that much.  
Or at least, he wants to try and make this permanent. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, clearly a sign of your dissatisfaction with the way he only occasionally actually moves, if anything, this all could count more as cockwarming than anything else. And now’s the time he has to break his silence, as he chuckles against your skin, placing faint barely felt kisses against the side of your neck. “What’s wrong, darling?” He purrs almost, while your hands move to rest on his shoulders.  
“Move.!” You complain, and he loves the demand so much. Not because he wants to go faster, but because you demand anything at all- something you should do more often. Maybe this is his way to go, moving forward. Maybe he could fuck some confidence into you.  
He surely wouldn’t mind doing it that way.  
“I am moving.” He teases, his low tone still raspy from lack of use during sleep causing your core to clench around him.  
“Our flight..” You mumble, fingers running over the back of his neck, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  
“I’ll book a different one later.” He denies, adjusting his position a little, pressing himelf as deep as he can inside you, leaning back to have his hands on your thighs, fingers running over the warm skin.  
“But that’s wasted money..” You say, unable to really resist his touch however, your arguing weak in nature and delivery. “And you’re needed back at work..”  
“I’m needed here, right now.” He instead teases, using your legs to pull you closer, slowly starting to thrust, your chest swaying alongside the pace he sets. “By someone I find way more important than work.”  
“But-” You start, but he decides to play dirty now, delivering a particularly hard thrust to shut you up or at least give him the chance to speak before you can finish your sentence.  
“You’re important.” He simply chuckles. “Right now, and afterwards, too.” He makes sure to tell you, before he leans over again, faces close. “Can I kiss you?” He wonders, eyes falling to your lips for just a second. “You can say no. I won’t be upset at it.”  
But you nod. “I want you to.” You say, for a second questioning if your words might’ve been too demanding- but it doesn’t appear to be the case, as he leans in to catch your lips, first kiss between you both passionate and warm- not hot, nowhere near burning. It’s like a promise, a silent gesture of devotion from him, an offering of his to show that he’s actually taking this seriously. 
He’s in it now. This is no longer just playing around.  
He’s not going to tell you he loves you- because he’s not there yet, and he knows neither are you. But he truly believes that these feelings can grow if he nurtures them well, and if you accept them and let him plant them in your heart. He wants the vines of what might grow to connect you both, because that’s what you both deserve.  
He knows his own worth. And he wants you to know yours, too.  
His lip piercings are a little foreign, but in a way, they make it a unique experience to you. Or maybe it’s the sincerity he has in his actions, the way he treats you, the fact that he pays so much attention to you as well during this whole thing. You’re not used to this. He doesn’t seem to expect anything of you, and it makes you a bit anxious.  
But even that, he notices.  
“Let go, darling.” He chuckles against your lips, barely apart from you. “I’ll take care of you.” 
“But shouldn’t you be taken care of too?” You worry, and he just smiles.  
“This is more than enough for me, trust me.” Jungkook responds, moving a bit faster now. “I just want you.” He tells you, and you're sure he doesn’t know the weight of that statement. 
Or how long you’ve waited for someone to say it like that. 
Because even though it’s said right now, during the act, but it’s not actually sexually charged. It’s not said in the context of ‘I want you right now’- but it’s more generalized. He wants you.. In general. Not just in this moment, or for this specific action.  
So when you simply trust yourself in the heat of the moment, turning the tables or more so positions, you feel a strange sense of confidence as you now ride him, his hands on your hips taken by yours, fingers intertwining while he watches you for a moment, clearly fighting the urge to just relax and close his eyes, sight of you too pretty to miss. But he can’t help it, leans his head back into the pillows with a lazy smirk on his lips, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, slow pace all you both need as you push each other over the edge, coming undone at different times- but still, that doesn’t make the moment any less meaningful.  
He keeps you in this position for a moment while he spills into the condom inside of you, not utterly exhausted, but entirely satisfied nonetheless. He feels nice, like his mind and body have been reset, truly giving him a fresh start to the day as he finally opens his eyes after bathing in his own afterglow.  
A glance to the side offers him the time. Your flight has left almost half an hour ago by now. 
“We missed it.” You mumble sleepily, and he nods, before he playfully manhandles you around to lay on your back on the bed again, pulling your shirt over your head. “Jungkook!” You laugh, and he chuckles along, attacking your shoulder and neck with kisses and even bites, visibly energized now.  
“Good.” He purrs against your skin. “Up for a round two?” 
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You feel a bit embarrassed. 
You’ve been home for two days now, and you miss him. Terribly so. Even though you try and occupy yourself with work, your mind keeps going back to the time spent with him, and you’re conflicted. Should you reach out? Text him? He told you he wouldn’t mind, but he also seemed a little stressed about work, so you probably shouldn’t bother him.  
Maybe you could ask Tae? 
But he doesn’t really give you an answer, somehow sounding oddly reluctant even to just talk about his friend in any way, and it makes you suspicious. So today, you finally jump over your shadow, and text him- just to get no reply for hours. It’s not until later that day that you receive a phone call instead- his voice sounding tired. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.” He simply says, and you’re immediately alarmed.  
“What’s that noise in the background?” You want to know, because it sounds very much like something you’re very much familiar with. And with the way he dodges an answer by sighing first, you just know what’s going on. “Which hospital are you in? Do you need anything?” You rant. “What even happened?” 
“Nothing happened-” He quietly argues, sounding awfully like a scolded child almost, but you cut him off.  
“Well something clearly happened for you to be in hospital!” You argue, before you calm down. “I’m sorry, I just-” 
But Jungkook reassures you as always, giving you the name of the hospital he’s staying at, as well as the room he’s in, so you can visit him. And the moment you walk in with some snacks approved by the doctors, you feel like you’re the one in need of medical attention.  
“What happened?” You weakly ask, carefully sitting down next to his bed where he’s in, a hand running over his face, careful not to twist the delicate tubes connected to the needle in his arm.  
“Just an accident.” He says, though he’s not looking at you- and it makes you anxious.  
“What accident?” You ask, and when he doesn’t answer, you press on, unable to keep your emotions in check properly. “Jungkook please. You said we should be honest-” You softly say, and he sighs, licking his lips.  
“I.. Fell asleep.” He mumbles quietly. “While driving to a meeting. I was late, and it was.. Just for a split second- and suddenly it all went to shit.” He explains. “I was- the road was empty. And it was so fucking late, I- don't know what I was thinking.”  
It’s quiet after that, apart from staff and visitors moving outside in the hall, barely heard through the closed door, but the machine that’s keeping close measurement of his vitals occasionally makes a sound.
Jungkook barely manages to look at you, and when he does, he’s not sure what that expression on your face means. You’re looking at a nasty bruise on his wrist, face unreadable, before you eventually speak again.  
“Jungkook.” You say his name, and your voice is bone chillingly serious, demanding his full attention.  
“Don’t you ever do that again.” 
Your words are heavy, full of emotion and yet delivered in a monotone anger that makes him realize the gravity of the situation. He’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone in that tiny second, should be forever grateful nothing major happened at all except for his car getting crashed beyond repair.  
“I’m sorry-” He begins, but you shake your head, speaking after you take a deep breath as if to collect yourself.  
“No, I don’t want an apology.” You deny. “You can’t do this.” You say, and he’s a bit unsure what you mean, when you turn to look at him with glossy eyes. “You can’t make me get attached just to... pull something like this.” You say. “That’s cruel, Jungkook. You could’ve killed someone.” You tell him, and he nods, quietly. “Get a cab next time, or have someone drive you, fuck I don’t care!” You become a bit louder now. “But you can’t do this. You can’t be this selfish.” Is your response, as you finally properly look at him, close to tears. “I’m starting to need you, Jungkook.” You confess.  
“You can’t leave me alone like that.”  
And at the first tear falling, he chooses to ignore his physical pain, to move over a little and have you sit on the side of his bed, clinging to him as the full force of it all hits you, arms reaching out for him, grabbing hard at the hospital gown he’s in, desperate to hold him.  
As if you need to know he’s still there, that he’ll be fine.  
“I’ll make sure to rest properly from now on.” He promises, hand that’s not hooked up to anything running over your back as you cry into his chest. “I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” He tells you, and you nod, though you stay close.  
It takes a good moment for you to calm down again, and when you are, he uses that energy you both have now to dig a little deeper.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, by the way.” He tells you, and you shrug. “No, I mean it. There’s no excuse for it.”  
“You were busy.” You mumble, but he shakes his head.  
“Doesn’t matter.” He denies. “I’ll make more time for you. I need to rest anyways, and even after I’m healed, I should take a step back in general. Like I said-” He offers, wincing a bit when a movement causes him pain. “-I have to take better care of myself. For you.”  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble, detaching yourself a little from him again as you sit up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I’m getting clingy already-”  
“No, please.” He encourages, giving you a soft smile. “Be clingy. I promise you, I’m just.. It's just a bit odd to me at the moment.” Jungkook reveals. “I’ve not had someone care for me in such a way in.. A while.” Or ever, he wants to actually say- but he doesn’t want to put so much pressure on you.  
He can leave those big confessions to a later date.  
“Should I.. do you need help at home once you get out of here?” You wonder. “I could help you? Or, maybe you can.. I don’t know-”  
“I’d really appreciate your company.” He smiles. “And your help too. But mostly your company.” Jungkook teases, making you laugh in relief.  
Not just because he clearly looks worse than it actually is- 
But also because his smile looks oddly youthful- and most of all, truly genuine. 
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hoodiedmenace · 7 months
Text
One day I'm gonna kiss the character designers for rise of the tmnt.
Yeah shape theory and all that, it's super neat but IT GOES SO MUCH DEEPER.
Since the beginning of tmnt, the turtles have always been hard to distinguish from each other. Especially in the 1987 show, but all the way up to 2007 movie, the one thing the turtles have really had to distinguish themselves is their color of their masks, their weapons, and usually some minor design changes like the letter on their belts, height, and skin tone. But even those have been subtle.
The 2012 series is really the first tmnt iteration to change up the turtles in a significant way. Not only is their skin different shades of green, but their heights are a more significant difference. Donnie towers of the other turtles, and Mikey's height really solidifies him as the youngest brother.
That isn't where the differences end, though. Raph has a crack in his plastron, Mikey has freckles, and Donnie is much lankier and skinny than the others. The main problem with this though, is that they are still fairly subtle. From behind and without their masks on, it's impossible to tell whether its Mikey, Leo, or Raph on screen. Not to mention, Leo is sort of treated as a 'base', and the other three turtles are just alterations made to his design.
Rise, on the other hand, said "hold my beer."
Not only do rise turtles have the different heights, skin tones, and masks, they have different body types.
And not only are these differing body types useful in telling the turtles apart, they have genuine meanings. So I'm gonna infect your brains with my brainrot.
Starting with Mikey.
Mikey has always been the silliest of the group, the party dude, if you will. Rise uses shape theory to give this playful, young vibe to him. Not only are his markings circles, but so is his head and shell. His design is very rounded overall.
The other thing about rise, is that all their fighting types are different. Their weapons influence these styles along with their personality. Mikey's style of fighting is very acrobatic, very showy. He is very in touch with his sense of balance and the space around him.
It can't be a coincidence that Mikey's body type is also very similar to an acrobat or gymnastic athlete. His muscles are small but compact, and rounded like the rest of him. His limbs are small, but clearly strong and well maintained. Acrobats often have these types of hidden muscles, where they almost disappear when not in use because of the function of them. They aren't using the muscles for heavy lifting or grueling tasks. Acrobats use their muscles for balance and manipulating their own body.
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Next is Leo. Unlike 2012 where Leo is used as a baseline for the other character designs, he most definitely has his own unique look. Overall, he's very sharp. His crescent moon markings on his face and limbs, his swords, and his overall stylized body shape leans into this pointed, sharp look.
Leo attacks quick in the series. He is often one of the first to strike, and thinks well ahead in battle to preserve his energy. His battle moves tend to also continue throughout the fight with a large blow in the beginning and end, with smaller strikes in between.
Leo is also the leanest of the turtles, with a small waist and the lithest of the turtles' limbs. All of this points his character design towards a long distance runner. They often start and end races with bursts of energy, and then pace themselves throughout the rest of the race. They have to think and consider their speed. Long distance runners also have very lean muscles. It has to do with the actual proteins in the muscle that make them thinner but perfect for pacing and persevering throughout long lengths of time.
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Similar to Leo is Donnie. The disaster twins, as the fandom has named them for being the same age, are the most physically similar. They are nearly the same height and, when Donnie had his battle shell on, their shells are very similar in shape. However, they are still very different. Donnie has a rectangular build with his purple pixel-like markings and big ass forehead. Him and Raph also are the only turtles in rise with full head coverings, and they are also both square shaped.
Donnie tends to put all of his energy into one, well timed blow. Usually using his tech to discombobulate the enemy and then backing off quickly. (The only time this doesn't hold true is when he's fighting with April, where it's only the two of them. However, he still does tend to attack and then back away.) His muscles are the second most defined of the turtles, being thick and bigger than both Leo and Mikey.
For this reason, Donnie I believe is built off of a sprinter. A short distance runner. The perfect match to Leo (the twins ever bro)
Sprinters have to save up all of their energy in order to use it all in one short length of time, often just a few seconds. Exactly how Donnie attacks. Sprinters also have much larger, more defined muscles than long distance runners. I think it has something to do with storing energy and oxygen to be used all at once.
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Finally, there's Raph. Raph is big and bulky in the show, with the biggest muscles and is *physically the strongest. He lifts giant boulders and can carry all three of his brothers, April, and Splinter with ease. His shape is a square, with his head and chest being large and boxy. His fighting style is the least ninja-y out of the four, being more related to actually just throwing hands with someone. He fights physically and often times without his weapons, preferring to attack with his body. He gets in the enemy's space and uses his larger size to overpower them. His ability to make himself bigger with his mystic powers furthers this idea. He attacks hard and doesn't let up, not allowing his weaknesses to be exploited by keeping the enemy from never getting a hit in.
I believe Raph is based off of a wrestler or boxer. They fight physically and roughly, preferring to never allow their opponent get a hit in if it allows. Their act of defense is also similar, as boxers generally use their weapon as defense instead of offense. (Raph does this in the train battle and the shredder fight pre-karai death.) Even some of Raph's moves are essentially boxing moves. It also makes sense why, in the show, Raph loves wrestling so much. It may not be boxing, but it's a very similar sport.
Boxers also have large, bulky figures similar to Raph. Their entire body is muscular as opposed to just their legs or arms because of how physical their sport is.
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*Mikey throws a lot of super heavy stuff like the top of a sky scraper, a loaded cargo ship, and a semi-truck, but he does it with the help of his mystic weapon.
Hahaha I'm so. Normal.
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riki-dazed · 28 days
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Pretty boy
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NSFW smut · masturbation, dry humping · wc: 823
Perched atop Riki's thighs, you feel the warmth of his bare skin against your own exposed flesh. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you take in the sight below you, a rush of anticipation causing your breath to catch in your throat.
With his gaze fixed on yours, Riki's attention remains unwavering as he continues working on himself, the rhythm of his wrist's movements gaining momentum as each second ticks by.
You watch, transfixed, as he becomes beautifully fucked out beneath you, unable to tear your eyes away from his swollen, parted lips. Riki's brows twist in pure ecstasy, and as his panting intensifies, your name begins to twist itself amongst his whines for you.
Having you watch Riki attend to his own needs stirs something within him, every single time. A string of hissed curses fall out of his lips as he remains unfazed by any sense of shame.
With a smile finding its way across your lips, your fingertips begin to graze along the skin on his abdomen, your hands itching to replace his own.
"You're doing so well, my pretty boy."
Your words of praise only add fuel to the burning fire, that is Riki's mind, and its desires.
The eye contact between the both of you alone is almost enough to send you over the edge untouched, yet you manage to keep it together. You want to enjoy this moment to the fullest, especially considering that its been a while since you've had some alone time with your boyfriend like this.
He reaches his free hand out to you, thumb itching between your folds. Your mouth falls slightly open, the pressure of his thumb finally pressing against your clit causes you to see stars.
He groans, the realisation of how you're almost dripping for him leaves the boy almost dizzy.
"So fucking wet—"
Riki continues to get himself off, the feeling of your soaked core against his touch bringing him closer towards the edge. His touches are light, and playful. You know he's toying with you; he's enjoying himself way too much.
Your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping him in place, as you can't help but start grinding against his fingertips. Your neediness to also get off causes a smirk to play on his smug features.
"Not yet, Riki— not yet," He chants incoherently to himself. His eyes soon shut closed as the grasp he has around his length falters.
After a few more strokes, he abruptly pulls his other hand away from your core, causing you to elicit a whimper at the sudden loss of contact. Though, his hands shift to gripping at your waist. Understanding his silent request, you adjust your position accordingly.
Now, you find yourself straddling his pulsing length, in which rests against his abdomen.
"Fuck," he breathes at the contact, "Fuck, Y/n—"
You rest your hands on Riki's toned chest before you begin to grind down onto him, the slickness between your folds facilitating smooth movements as you slide back and forth. He rests his hands on either sides of your hips, gently guiding your motions.
Riki's in a state of pure bliss. "Just— fuck. Just like that."
You set a needy, fast pace. You know it's not going to take a lot for you to reach your high, not with how badly you've needed a release this entire time. Judging by the way Riki's fingers are digging into the skin on your hips, and the way whines of your name are escaping his lips, suggest that he too is on the brink of a climax.
Sighing blissfully, you lean downwards, your chest meeting his. You find yourself leaving a soft peck on his nose as your eyes find his hooded gaze, "Are you close?"
Riki hums in response, confirming what you already knew. Your mouth engulfs his, swallowing him in a passionate embrace.
Snaking his arms around your back, Riki pulls you into a tight hug against his torso. The warmth radiating off his skin clashes with yours, in which sends you into a complete, and utter trance. Although you've lost your range of motion, it's the last thing in your mind at this current moment. You take a second to just lay on him, trying to catch your breath, as he continues to grind up against you.
A tired, deep chuckle leaves the back of Riki's throat as his hands move down your back, settling upon your ass. He can tell you're slowly running out of energy.
You sink your teeth into his smooth shoulder, tracing the skin with your tongue. His groans echo directly into your ear, and you realise that there's no way you can keep it in any longer.
Not after that.
Riki's voice is barely above a whisper as he nips at your ear,
"Come for me."
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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fangswbenefits · 7 months
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The Arrangement (4) - Solution
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Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Word count: 3.5k
Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3
Snow.
Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?
It didn't make any sense whatsoever.
But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread  across the swell of your cheeks.
A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity. 
It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.
The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.
You did recognise that scent… and your  smile immediately dropped.
The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.
Then you plummeted without looking back. 
An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.
Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.
As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.
“What are you doing?”
“You were squirming and screaming.”
You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face. 
Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did. 
As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.
Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”
You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.
It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.
But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.
Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.
“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest. 
Right.
Vampire.
No body heat unless he was well fed.
“Did I… say anything?”
The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.
The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”
“Good.”
Hold on… grunts and… moans?
“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”
Typical.
A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.
The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.
For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.
You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell. 
It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.
No.
It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.
Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.
“What's on your mind?” 
His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”
“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”
You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”
“Well, we can.”
“Astarion.”
He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”
It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.
But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”
He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”
You simply ignored him.
And Astarion hated being ignored.
So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.
“I would just like to point out that–”
His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.
You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.
“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”
Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.
You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.
“Wyll!”
Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.
His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.
Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.
“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”
He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”
His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”
“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed. 
“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent. 
“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”
You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.
However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.
“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”
Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”
“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.
Great.
Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.
“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”
He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.
Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you.  “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”
Your heart soared high. 
“However…”
Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.
“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”
Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.
“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.
“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”
Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”
Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”
He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned. 
Besides, you had nothing to fear.
Justice was on your side.
But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.
Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”
He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”
A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.
It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.
Not without him.
Or even without Astarion.
“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”
You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.
His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.
“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.
“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.
“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 
“I shall have some fruit sent over.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Yes, you can get me out of here.”
Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.
You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”
“Right.”
Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.
With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.
Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”
Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”
You didn't reply.
But it was probably both.
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“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”
“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”
Good point.
You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”
“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”
Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.
“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”
“... but?”
You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”
He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”
Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous. 
It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.
Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.
“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”
You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. 
Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.
Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal. 
Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?
The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.
“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet. 
His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”
Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”
“I know you're lying.”
You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”
He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”
One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all. 
He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.
Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.
Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.
The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.
It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time. 
Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.
You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.
“You're getting out of here.”
An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.
“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.
Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm  afraid.”
Oh.
It was to be expected, really…
“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”
“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.
“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”
It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.
“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”
Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”
“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.
“I did invite him – more than once.” 
“And I declined every single time.”
You rolled your eyes.
As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.
“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”
Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.
“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”
He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…
“We will have someone fetch it for you.”
“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”
Wyll nodded in silence.
You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.
“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”
You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.
The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.
The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.
A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.
Convenient for Astarion.
Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.
“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”
You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”
He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”
“I suppose.”
There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.
“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned. 
You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.
“Thank you, Wyll.”
“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”
Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind. 
“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.
“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”
As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.
“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”
Your head snapped at him. “What?”
He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”
You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”
“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”
You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.
“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”
He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”
“I didn't yell–”
One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.
Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.
You sighed. “This is pointless.”
“Agreed.”
As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.
Gale and Shadowheart.
You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”
Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”
“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”
Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”
You nodded. “Within reason.”
She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”
“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”
The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.
You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.
“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”
He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.
Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.
Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods. 
“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”
He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”
You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.
“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.
His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.
“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”
You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated. 
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Series Masterlist
Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌
Next chapter: Confrontation
I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷
1K notes · View notes
uplatterme · 1 year
Text
alright, going to bed. sooo, here’s an aether thirst from yours truly!
—sub!bottom!aether, top!dom!amab!reader, consensual somnophilia, stomach bulge. needy aether w mischievous reader!
aether’s breathing stutters, feeling your chest on his back. it’s warm, and the closeness between you two is making his body heat up which puts the temperature he endures when fighting the pyro regisvine to shame.
he shouldn’t be feeling this hot, considering the fact that he’s not even wearing a shirt. the only thing covering him is his pants and his locks that gracefully flowed down his body.
aether should get away, that’s what the logical part of his brain says. unfortunately, his body seems to disagree.
to be fair, how could he? especially when he feels the way that your cock presses just right on his entrance, teasing him and driving the outlander insane.
god, he wants you. he needs you to make him a mess on the same sheets that you were sleeping on, to have him drool on the pillows as you push his head down on the cushion, muffling his screams, knowing you don’t like loud noises during nighttime.
the blonde carefully slips down his pants. he swears he’s not going to do anything out of line, even if you’ve said that this kind of thing was fine before.
he calms himself. technically, it’s less embarrassing since he didn’t have you spouting out utter nonsense in his ear about how he’s such a good boy, or sometimes, the degrading names you call him while pulling on his braid as if it was a leash.
that doesn’t stop the way his chest thumps heavily or his previously limp cock getting hard when you finally nudge yourself onto his bare skin.
he doesn’t do much. he only grinds himself on your sleeping body, rubbing your cock with his cheeks.
he just wanted to know what it felt like, that’s it. he’s satisfied.
aether cups his mouth as your hand lays on his waist, sitting there neatly.
he covers his face with his hands. all logical thoughts going out the window when he stretches out his rim with the tip of your cock.
“j-just the tip…” he whispers. right, no more than this. he’s already edging himself with humping on you earlier, anything more would be ridiculous.
he breathes deeply, trying to remain focused. his walls feel empty, but he’s not going to give in. this is fine, he tells himself.
he bites his bottom lip, stroking his own cock with your tip inside of him. he can finish on his own, he just needs to feel your warmth.
but as he does this, his whole body shrivels up when your arm on him tightens and you push yourself all the way in without warning, hugging him. the hand that he was using to jack off finds its way to his mouth, covering it as he lets out a silent scream.
you have somehow put your entire cock in, leaving him speechless from the action.
“oh god, oh god.” he utters, trying to be as quiet as possible.
he sees the way your cock outlines itself on his tummy and the mere sight of it is enough to make him burst.
he didn’t even prep himself that much. however, your sleepless body also acts like you when you’re awake, being as savage and ruthless when it comes to breaking him apart.
“no, no, no, no—” the outlander chants, he’s so close. he’s so fucking close that he doesn’t care anymore.
his body starts moving slowly. it’s hard to do this on his own when he’s so used to you doing it for him. still, he pushes through.
it’s as if his walls refuse to remove itself from your length, hugging your cock as tight as possible. how the hell do you even pound into him at such a speed?
his entire body is trembling. just a bit more to send him over the edge, please.
and as he thrusts himself at an abnormally slow pace, crying at the lowest volume he possibly can. he feels your fingers grab the sides of his waist and extract yourself before proceeding to push the entirety of your cock to the deepest part of him that he feels his body actually breaking.
“slut.”
your voice sends aether to an orgasm, his cock spilling as much as possible, his pants being ruined and his thighs quivering on yours.
his breathing skips, surprised at your movement and the way you degrade him. he wants to cry even more.
this is so embarrassing, how long had you been awake?
he flinches when your teeth bites on his neck, marking his tired body as he relaxes from his orgasm.
“since you pulled your pants off. you’re not exactly discreet, nor can i ignore the way you whimper like a pathetic whore.” you answer, as if you knew exactly what he was going to ask.
he flushes red at that, looking deeply into your eyes, shame disappearing wholeheartedly from his vocabulary.
“m-more?” aether stammers out.
“of course, sweetheart.” you kindly obliged.
3K notes · View notes
subskz · 6 months
Text
go easy - h.js
note: this is a reupload from my old blog
content: sub jisung, dom reader, masturbation (m), brief voyeurism, a bit of degradation, reader calls jisung a slut once, use of traffic light system, stopping during a scene, crying, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pegging, lots of praise
word count: 6.6k
The scent of your cooking wafted through the kitchen as you turned the knob on your stove to lower its heat to a simmer. You gave the eggs you’d scrambled a few more tentative pokes with your utensil before deciding that you were satisfied, shutting off the fire beneath the pan at last.
Jisung was still sound asleep in the other room—or at least, you assumed he was given that he hadn’t yet been lured into the kitchen by the mouthwatering aroma. You set the sizzling pan down on the counter and glanced at your phone to check the time. It was nearly noon, and as much as you wanted Jisung to get proper rest, especially knowing that he’d gone to bed thoroughly exhausted the night prior, you figured it’d be better to wake him up before his whole day was thrown off. A part of you wanted him awake so he could have the chance to eat his breakfast before it got cold, but the other half—the more selfish one—simply missed him. No matter how groggy he might be when he first woke up; mumbling to himself for minutes, ruffling his unruly hair and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he could get a proper sentence out, he always brightened your mornings with his slurred jokes and lazy giggles.
The thought alone was enough to stir fondness in your chest, bringing an involuntary smile to your face as if you could hear his raspy voice already. You made quick work of setting the rest of the table and headed out of the kitchen, making your way down the hall towards your bedroom. In retrospect, shutting the door so that the clatter of your cooking wouldn’t disturb Jisung hadn’t really been necessary, considering how deep of a sleeper he was.
A small, muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall captured your attention, bringing you to a halt as you reached for the door handle. You stayed put for a moment, not even having the chance to question whether you’d imagined it or not when it was soon followed by another, just audible enough for you to catch. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard Jisung talk in his sleep, but the nature of the sounds you were hearing—stifled, swallowed down, like he was having trouble getting them out—had you wondering if he might be experiencing a nightmare of some kind. 
You listened long enough for your curiosity to begin morphing into concern. A noise almost akin to a gasp met your ears, cut short as soon as it came, just barely allowing you to catch it. With a frown, you turned the door handle and tiptoed into your bedroom, completely unprepared for the scene that awaited you inside.
Jisung was awake, very much so.
Your comforter had been bunched up and tossed to the side, giving you a clear view of exactly what had been drawing out all those strange, breathless noises from him. He was hunched over, eyes squeezed shut, messy hair falling into his face, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His shorts and underwear were pushed down just far enough for his hand to move freely, like he’d been in too much of a rush to even bother removing them properly. Given how fast he was stroking himself, that was probably the case.
You blinked a few times, processing the scene unfolding before you in stunned silence. He hadn’t yet noticed that you’d slipped into the room, still fully consumed by the feeling of his hand sliding up and down his length at a frantic pace, working himself to his high with a shameless lack of control. The noises he made were hushed, but deliciously desperate, and judging by the obvious flush on his cheeks, you could tell just how hard he was trying to hold his breath and restrain himself so they wouldn’t ring out too loud.
Any remaining shock you’d felt was quickly overtaken by a wave of arousal when you heard Jisung call out your name—so soft, so broken, you might have thought you’d misheard if he didn’t buck up into his fist especially hard as he uttered it, like the mere thought of you was just what he needed to send him over the edge right then and there. He slowed his pumping to flatten his palm and roll it over the head of his cock, cursing under his breath. You knew better than anyone how crazy the move drove him—you were the one who’d discovered it in the first place, gotten him hooked on it. It ignited a strange heat in your stomach, to realize that you were the only thing on his mind in that moment.
You’d never quite seen Jisung like this before. Curled in on himself, forcing back his moans in a relentless chase for pleasure from hands other than yours. He was typically so vocal about his desires with you, rarely shying away from demanding all your attention and begging you to take care of him when his need became too much to contain any longer. The fact that he was trying to keep it all a secret from you, like he was doing something wrong, had you more excited than you’d like to admit.
He clamped his jaws shut to suppress what was sure to have been a particularly loud cry, throwing his head back in a fit of pleasure. As he did, his half-lidded eyes finally caught a glimpse of you. Arms crossed, leaning lazily against the doorframe with an expression on your face that made his stomach flip.
He stiffened, hand freezing around his dick. A choked noise escaped him as his stare met yours, the remaining traces of his moan instantly dying out in his throat.
“Morning,” you hummed.
Jisung’s eyes grew wide as moons; a deer caught in headlights, a look far too innocent considering what he’d just been doing. With a mortified squeak, his hand scrambled for the nearest pillow, flinging it over himself in a pointless attempt to cover up the dripping mess of arousal peeking from his half-discarded shorts. Embarrassingly enough, the softness pressing suddenly against his most sensitive spot made him jolt, so hard that he was positive you wouldn’t miss it.
Your lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile, and you made your way over to the bed, flopping down on it casually across from him. “Don’t be shy, Hannie,” your voice was calm for the most part, but it was difficult to contain the delight creeping into it. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, right?”
At that, Jisung’s face heated up impossibly more, creating a pretty blush against his tan skin that you couldn’t get enough of.
“I...I thought you were busy,” he stammered out, gripping the pillow tighter. “I didn’t mean...um, I mean, I wasn’t trying to—”
His rambling was cut off when you leaned forward to cup his face in your hands, smile curving to completion when you felt for yourself how much his skin was burning under your palms. You gave his full cheeks a squeeze, gentle enough for him to relax into your touch. “Weren’t trying to get yourself off?” you finished for him. “It’s alright, baby. Why don’t you show me what you were doing?”
Jisung swallowed hard. “You’re not mad?” 
“Mm...not mad,” you began, rubbing your thumbs along his flushed face, feeling his pulse race under them. “Just a little hurt that you didn’t call for me to help you out.”
He cast his eyes down, unable to turn his head away in shame like every instinct told him to. You were only teasing him, no signs of disappointment lacing your tone, but it crashed a heavy guilt over him all the same. To not only do something so pathetic, so shameful, but to be caught by you in the process. You, the one he wanted to be good for, the one he did everything with your approval in mind.
“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s way too early for me to be so…ah.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fade into the sheets and escape your watchful eyes before he died of pure humiliation right there—or worse, before the fresh rush of adrenaline it sent through his body to be found like this made his situation infinitely more embarrassing. He could already feel it, creeping up his neck, making his cock throb against the soft fabric of the pillow.
“Just…didn’t wanna bother you for something like this.”
With the exception of an occasional,  overly-eager misstep, Jisung always tried his best to be as well-behaved as possible for you. It was a rare occurrence for you to scold him over anything—he didn’t give you much of a reason to, nor a desire to. Not when his doe eyes gleamed up at you in a constant search for praise and his voice rang out so sweetly with every word of adoration you gave him. Though he hadn’t necessarily broken any rules, it still felt strangely thrilling to you to have caught him like this. Working himself up without your knowledge, seeking relief without your touch. You wondered what he’d been thinking about to even reach that point, what had made him so desperate that he didn’t even think to come find you first.
You slid your hands from his face to grab the pillow he’d used to shield himself. Jisung tensed up as you tugged it out of his hold, but he made no effort to try and stop you, obediently releasing it from his fidgeting fingers. Your heart skipped a beat as his cock sprang back into view, still fully hard and leaking at its tip, practically begging for release after the sudden loss in stimulation. Clearly, Jisung’s embarrassment had done little to ebb his arousal—if anything, it’d only strengthened it.
“Poor baby. So needy with no one around to take care of him,” you pouted, ghosting your hand over his length. “What’s got you like this first thing in the morning?”
It took him a moment to muster up a response, not finding it in him to speak properly when your fingers were dancing mere centimeters over his aching tip, taunting him. “H-had a dream about you.”
“Yeah?” you cooed. “Was I touching you like that?”
A soft noise of frustration met your ears. His gaze was locked on your hand, in a trance. So preoccupied with how badly he longed for you to close the distance that he almost forgot to give a strained nod.
“Cute.” You followed Jisung’s pleading stare to admire his twitching cock, curling your hand playfully around nothing. His breath hitched in his throat, bracing himself for your touch. But it never came. 
Instead, you scooted back, settling comfortably in a spot near the edge of the bed that gave you the perfect view of him—his bewildered face, his ridden up shirt, his dick peeking up from the elastic of his shorts. “Well, don’t let me ruin your fun.”
His mouth fell open, big, anxious eyes darting up to meet yours again. Adorably expressive as ever. You could see every emotion he was feeling written out in the curve of his eyebrows and the repeated parting and closing of his lips as he struggled to make sense of what you were implying.
“Ah…” he chuckled nervously. “What?”
“It must’ve felt good, right? Better than anything I could do,” you teased. “Let me see how my baby plays with himself when I’m not around.”
Your tone was light, but Jisung nearly shuddered all the same, like he couldn’t shake the feeling that some sort of punishment had to be awaiting him. There was a strange, hungry glint in your eyes that added a tinge of apprehension to the excitement fluttering his chest.
Despite himself, he followed through without question, half out of a determination to prove his discipline to you, half out of a pathetic need to relieve the pressure still coiled tight in his abdomen. He brought his hand back to his length, a tiny whine escaping him as he wrapped his fingers around it, handling it with far more timidity than the relentless pace he’d set earlier. He glanced up at you with a hopeful stare to ask for permission, such an obvious attempt to appeal to you that you could’ve laughed. But you simply nodded, encouraging him to start moving.
Tentatively, Jisung began stroking himself, thighs trembling the instant his pleasure picked up where he’d left off. You marveled at the way his cock pulsed in his hand as he pumped it with an amount of delicacy that he wasn’t used to treating himself with, slowly finding his rhythm. Even with his languid strokes, it wasn’t long before soft vocalizations began to build in his throat, heard loud and clear through the bedroom.
“Is that how fast you were going earlier?” you asked. It seemed like an innocent question, but he knew right away what you were really getting at; an order to go faster, to match his feverish speed from before.
“No,” he admitted.
“Don’t hold back, Jisungie,” you urged. “You were so into it before. Do it just like that, make yourself feel so good that you don’t even notice me.”
A breathless, awkward mewl slipped out of him, but he tightened his grip nonetheless. You cooed in approval, growing more aroused with each passing second over the sight of him so flustered, fumbling helplessly with his cock like he’d never touched it before. Any traces of how shameless he could be with you were nowhere to be found, now. No cries for your attention, no sinful expressions on full display, no begging to be adored. It willed you to take things a step further, to make the most of his shyness.
His hushed sounds quickly escalated into less controlled ones, still tinged with that sleepy rasp. His free hand gripped the bedsheets as he picked up the pace of his stroking, a cute, concentrated look forming on his face.
“There we go. Does that feel good, Hannie?”
The boy’s eyebrows furrowed as he slid his thumb along the head of his cock, passing over his wet slit and making his breath stutter. “M-mhm,” he hesitated before continuing. “It’d feel—ah—better if it was you.”
“Yeah?” you cooed. “It could’ve been. All you had to do was come to me like a good boy.”
He whined at that, averting his guilt-ridden gaze. Even with his head ducked, he could still feel you watching him, taking in each flex of his muscles and jolt of his hips. It made the touch of his hand feel completely foreign to him, like the effects of your observant eyes stimulated his nerve endings with a new intensity. You knew well by now that Jisung thrived on your praise more than anything else, but the prospect of talking down to him with no affectionate words to ease the sting was oddly exhilarating to you. You wanted to be a little meaner, to satiate your curiosity. 
“Is this what you do behind my back, baby?” you faked a pout. “Always touching your needy cock ‘cause you can’t even wait for me? Are you that dirty?”
Jisung tensed up, nearly choking in his haste to get his protest out. “No! I’m good, ‘m a good boy.”
His reaction made your spine tingle with satisfaction, enough for you to continue testing the waters. “I thought so too,” you said wistfully. “But now I’m not so sure. What kind of good boy would do something so gross?”
He whimpered. It came unexpectedly louder than the rest of his sweet little sounds, even as the pace of his pumps slowed down significantly. 
“Maybe you were just pretending to be good for me?” You cocked your head to the side. “Maybe you’re really just a little slut who will do anything to get off.”
Your tone took on an unnatural harshness, unlike any of your usual teasing, your familiar, playful lilt that pulled him into a happy haze with each word you spoke. Jisung shuddered. His face turned beet red, half-hearted strokes coming to a full stop. For a brief moment, you thought his reaction was one of enjoyment. But a few seconds passed, and the boy stayed that way—quiet, frozen in place, save for a faint twitch in his lips. 
“Jisung?” you asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”
His spell of silence stretched out longer than you’d anticipated, making alarm rise in your chest. 
“Jisung, what’s your color?” 
There was a newfound urgency to the question, one that he couldn’t ignore no matter how badly he wished he could brush it off, to pretend like he was fine so he wouldn’t disappoint you any further. But you noticed it all without anything said, from his tensed posture to the way his hand quivered as he unwrapped it from around his length. Reluctantly, he lifted his head to look at you, watery gaze coming into view.
“Green,” he said at last. The crack in his voice did little to reassure you—in fact, all it did was shoot your worry through the roof.
“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I need you to be honest with me, baby.”
Jisung’s breathing grew more rapid, heart hammering in his chest for reasons he couldn’t fully explain. It had all felt so good, so right, up until just a moment ago. Now, it was all wrong—he was all wrong. He couldn’t find it in him to be his own comfort, to tell himself that your words held no real weight. He’d upset you, he’d disappointed you, and on top of that he couldn’t even take his punishment properly. The sting in his eyes grew stronger. He’d already let you down by doing something so indecent, he didn’t want to do it again by being too weak to face the consequences. 
Even with Jisung’s face obscured by his messy curtain of hair, you could see the flurry of emotions crossing it, twisting his features, and your heart along with it. He was lying, you were certain of it.
“Hannie,” you softened your voice. The nickname was feather-light on your tongue, enough to soothe the inhibitions that were threatening to take over his mind and force him quiet. “Talk to me. Are you sure?”
Jisung swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat couldn’t be pushed down. You already knew how pathetic he was, anyway. There was no point in denying it.
All at once, the tears that had glazed his wide eyes spilled over. He pulled his knees up to his chest, shrinking into himself, looking smaller than ever. 
“Ah…this is s-so stupid,” he attempted a weak chuckle, but it fell flat into a sob instead, one that made your chest positively ache. “Sorry,” he choked out. “I tried to hold it in, ‘m sorry.”
A wave of guilt crashed over you, flooding all your senses. You rose from your spot slowly to make your way over to Jisung and settle down next to where he was curled up on the bed. It took all of your self-control to push back every protective instinct that told you to pull him into a hug when you saw how fragile he looked, trying and failing to ease himself as he cried into his elbow. Just as you were mulling over whether or not it’d be okay to touch him, he leaned into you like a reflex, and like a reflex, you wrapped your arms securely around him.
“Shh...it’s okay. Don’t apologize, baby,” you did your best to speak steadily, even if the broken sounds that slipped out as he fully let himself go made it difficult to control your voice. “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”
Jisung buried his face into your chest, hot tears seeping through your shirt and churning your stomach with sympathy. “Did...did you really mean that?” he hiccuped, digging his fingers into your clothes. “Am I that gross?”
“No, Jisung, never,” you could barely contain your own distress. Still, you had to stay composed, for his sake. Knowing Jisung, your guilt would feed into his; it would only make him feel worse when he already thought he’d ruined things for you. “I didn’t mean any of it, angel. It was all play.”
“But you’re right, I did something so disgusting behind your back. ‘M so pathetic. Gross,” he babbled, just short of incoherent with the way he was nestled into you. “You shouldn’t t-touch me. I don’t deserve it.”
You made a sound of pure disbelief, tightening your hold around him instead, rocking gently from side to side in an effort to calm him down. Jisung trembled against you as stifled gasps racked his body, but he followed your movements nonetheless, swaying along. “You’re not gross, Hannie. Please don’t believe that for even a second, okay?” You ran your hand up his quivering back to cradle his head, holding him close and massaging his scalp lightly with your fingers. “I went too far today, huh? I’m so sorry.”
“N-no, I’m—” he sniffled out. “Sorry for being like this. So sensitive.”
“You’re not too sensitive,” you murmured. “It’s my fault, baby. I should’ve checked before saying those things to you.”
You continued playing with his hair as he tried to get ahold of himself, feeling a tinge of relief when his breathing grew a little less erratic the more you soothed him, shaky sobs evening out with each inhale. 
“I’m sorry,” he sniffled into your shirt. “Just thought I disappointed you.”
He tensed again, nearly panicking when you loosened your iron grip on his body to pull back and look him in the eye. Your heart broke even further when you saw the state he was in. His eyes—usually so bright—were red and puffy, glassy in a way that was far different from their natural glint. Dried tears stained his face, with fresh ones still brimming in the corners of his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. You wiped them away as tenderly as you could, not wanting to irritate his sensitive skin any further.
“Why did you think that, Hannie?” 
“Cause I—,” he cut himself off with another soft hiccup, still struggling to get his emotions under control. “I messed up and couldn’t even take your scolding.”
“You didn’t disappoint me,” you said firmly. “You’re my good boy. So good you can’t even stand the thought of doing something wrong, right?”
He blinked droplets of tears out of his eyes, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bury his face right back into the comfort of your neck. Even so, he managed a tiny nod. 
“There we go. I love you no matter what. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”
Your gaze bore intently into his, and Jisung forced himself to fight back the remnants of his self-deprecating thoughts before nodding again. “Okay,” he said softly. “I love you, too. So love me lots, please.”
The affection that gripped you nearly made you coo out loud. You pressed a kiss to his head the moment he leaned back into you, hoping to alleviate any leftover doubts he might have. 
“Can I make it up to you?” you whispered. “Wanna show my baby just how loved he is.”
Jisung let out a shy hum, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You weren’t sure what made you giggle more, the ticklish sensation of his soft hair brushing your skin, or how easily his demeanor shifted. Your question had been innocent enough, you’d expected him to want to be held a bit longer, maybe even going to wash up together, but it seemed like he had something else in mind. His lips puckered against your skin in a wet kiss, taking in your scent, then releasing it with a sweet sigh. 
“Just tell me what you want and we can do it,” you promised, petting his head, easing his mind back to that comforting haze with every stroke. “Does that sound good to you?”
“Mhm,” he murmured into you. What he said next was hard to make out with his lips squished against you, not quite ready to pull away. “Can we…go easy?”
The question tugged at your heartstrings. “Of course, we’ll go easy, angel. Anything you want.”
Jisung hesitated before deciding on his answer, still keeping his head tucked away into your shoulder. “Want your strap, please,” he breathed. It fanned out against your skin, making goosebumps rise to its surface. The plea was so different from his usual begging. Not shamelessly needy—but rather, timid and uncertain.
“Yeah? You wanna be spoiled?” You stopped playing with the hair at his nape to brush your index finger along his neck, relishing in how that alone was enough to make him shudder against you. “Good boys like you deserve to be treated good, too.”
It was Jisung’s turn to giggle, tinged with the slightest whine. You couldn’t deny the relief you felt hearing that familiar sound again. Reluctantly, he unlatched himself from you at last, already craving to feel your warmth again the instant you slipped off the bed. 
“I’ll be right back, okay? Get yourself ready for me.”
Jisung nodded eagerly, some of the liveliness returning to his red eyes. You ruffled his hair, then headed towards your closet, pushing away the final traces of guilt from your mind and replacing them with a determination to make it up to him instead. As you rummaged through your belongings to retrieve your strap-on, it wasn’t long before soft, needy whimpers began to reach you from the bedroom, even sweeter than when you’d first caught him, completely unrestrained this time. As much as they set off a fire in you, you remained patient, taking your time in preparing the toy while his noises grew progressively louder.
Then, a call of your name met your ears. So raspy with need, so weak with desperation, it made your core clench. You tried not to rush yourself, but your composure effectively crumbled when you heard Jisung cry out for you again, loud and clear through the wall. You could’ve laughed—he knew exactly what he was doing, but you were content to let it work, today. With a deep breath, you gathered up your things and returned to the other room.
There, you found Jisung with his shorts completely discarded and his legs spread out, pushing two fingers—slick with the lube he’d taken from the nightstand—in and out of himself obediently. The sight, coupled with the wet sounds each sloppy, uncoordinated pump of his hand created, was enough to cloud your mind entirely with arousal all over again. He looked so perfect, like it was exactly where he belonged; parting his thighs wider as soon as he spotted you, giving you a full view of how well he was fucking himself open for you.
You adjusted the strap’s harness around your waist and settled in between Jisung’s thighs. He pulled his fingers out of himself with a low keen, doe eyes gazing up at you intently as you took over for him, lathering your fingers with lube to slip them inside his twitching hole. A gasp caught in his throat as you did, your angle allowing you to reach even deeper inside of him than his own fingers could, loosening him up further. He tightened around you instantly, sucking you in like his body was begging for anything it could get.
“Look at that,” you gave an appreciative hum. “Already stretched out so perfectly for me. Good boy.”
Jisung barely had the chance to react before you spread your fingers out in a scissor-like motion a few times, sending sparks through his body each time you pressed into his walls. Then, you pulled out of him all at once, leaving him squirming and fluttering around nothing. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help his whine of disappointment, even when he knew what was to come. You gave his nose an affectionate tap with your clean hand before squeezing some lube onto your palm, spreading it along the length of your strap-on until it was thoroughly coated.
“Get comfortable, baby,” you ordered gently. 
There was a brief pause as Jisung propped himself up on his elbows, and you faltered for a moment, wondering if he might have changed his mind. He pressed his lips together like he was lost in thought, cheeks squishing adorably in the process.
“Ah, do you think...” he cut himself off with that cute, breathy laugh of his. “Can I—?” Another chuckle. “Can I ride you?”
The sheepish question came as a surprise to you, as did the sharp tingle it sent down your spine. You quirked an eyebrow, barely fighting back your smile when Jisung shied away, bangs falling into his eyes. “I wanna show you what I can do,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Wanna be your good boy.”
“Jisungie,” you sang, tilting his chin up to make sure your words got through to him. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re already my best boy, let me treat you like it.”
His eyes gleamed, but even as your praise eased his anxious mind, his resolve still didn’t waver. He needed this, you realized. His gaze searched yours for some sign of approval—so hopeful, so hungry, it was all it took for you to understand. 
“But...if that’s what my baby wants, then of course you can.” 
Jisung perked up at that, every soft, sleepy feature on his face brightening back up. “Thank you!” he chirped. “I’ll be good, I swear!”
You weren’t sure if it was his pure earnesty, or that infectious, heart-shaped grin, but you couldn’t hold back a smile of your own. It was impossible not to be overtaken with fondness, not when he was so grateful for just the chance to have your eyes on him as he ruined himself, all without you having to lift a finger. Shifting from your spot on the mattress, you settled back against the headboard of the bed, patting your thighs to beckon him over. He wasted no time before scrambling into your lap, straddling you so that he hovered mere centimeters above the toy’s head. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” you told him, taking the shaft into your hand to line it up with his entrance. “You’ll take it all, won’t you? Just like your pretty hole took my fingers so well.”
Jisung shuddered as you swirled your strap’s slick tip around his rim, bracing himself with a deep inhale before sinking down on it. His breath spilled out in a long, shaky moan as you filled him up bit by bit, his walls instantly tightening around the delicious thickness he’d been aching for. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, willing himself to push against the friction until every last inch of the toy had disappeared inside of him.
“That’s it, Hannie. Good boy, you make it look so easy.”
Your sweet whispers made it difficult for Jisung to control his breathing as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled to the brim. All he could manage was a weak gasp in response, eyes squeezing shut and insides clenching wildly. Your hands found their way to his hips, sliding your fingers along his tan skin to help soothe him while you waited, once again blown away by how ridiculously small his waist was.
“Pretty boy,” you hummed. Unable to resist, you pressed the pads of your thumbs deep into his flesh, delighted by the way his stomach contracted. “You look so perfect like this, just made to be filled up.”
The boy let out a flustered squeak, hands flying up to cover his face. It was almost amusing how much of a contrast there was in how Jisung vied for your compliments versus how he responded to them. There was no need for false bravado here, no need to fulfill any role when he was already the subject of your adoration. 
He squirmed above you slightly, letting out a tiny grunt as the ridges of your strap pressed snugly against his walls. When he finally collected himself enough to speak, his voice came meek, muffled by his palms. “C-can I move?” 
“Mm,” you urged, giving his waist another squeeze. “Show me how a good boy does it, Hannie.”
His hands dropped reluctantly from his flushed face and down to your shoulders, gripping them tight to steady himself. With a huff of effort, he lifted his body off your lap, sliding tortuously slow up the toy’s length before landing back down with a sharp smack. He relished in the relief it brought him for a moment before repeating the action, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to find his rhythm.
Jisung’s moans began slipping out of him in no time, rising in pitch and volume each time he sank down all the way to your strap’s hilt, building up a delicious pressure in your core. You ran your hands up and down his sides, feeling up his slender waist and stomach, puffing out with every gasp. “Are you feeling good, baby boy?” 
Jisung dug his fingernails into your skin with a whimper, already finding it difficult to string together a coherent sentence. “Yes—ngh—so good,” he choked out. “So full.”
“Cause you’re taking it all so well. Every inch of me,” you praised. “Keep moving just like that, angel. I wanna see your cute little face when you cum all over yourself.”
Jisung mewled out your name, whether it was in shy protest of your words or a plea for more, even he wasn’t sure. You tightened your hold on his waist, hands following his every bounce to help keep him from faltering. The sight of him rocking his hips against yours was nothing short of breathtaking—small beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tousled hair bouncing cutely, tongue peeking out between his swelling lips. His cock left drops of precum all over his skin each time it slapped against his stomach, crying for release after being denied for so long.
You could tell Jisung’s movements were starting to take a toll on him. He grasped frantically at your shoulders for purchase, trying his best to stay grounded just long enough to bring himself to a climax. His thighs began to tremble, pace growing sloppy both from the repeated strain on his muscles, and from the pleasure making it increasingly difficult for him to focus. You decided to help him out when you caught the frustrated pout forming on his face, lifting yourself to push into him with a newfound force and making him cry out sharply. 
“It’s getting rough, huh, baby? Hannie’s working so hard for me. Such a good boy.”
“Hah...th-thank you,” Jisung swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth before it could trickle out, leaning in to slump his body against yours, no longer able to stay upright on his own. “Your good boy, ‘m your g’boy. Again. Say it—ah—again, please.”
You softened, indulging him without hesitation when you knew how badly he needed to hear it. “Good boy, Jisungie. My good boy.”
“Yours. Wanna be good for y-you.” He threw his head back suddenly as you hit a perfectly angled thrust. “There!” he gasped, voice cracking into a near-wail. “Right there, please, please, please.”
“There?” you echoed in amusement when he could only writhe around pathetically, all sense of rhythm lost. Your giggle masked just how much it affected you to see him falling apart in your lap like that—his blissed out face, his shameless moans, all tightening the coil in your stomach like his own pleasure was feeding into yours. “You like it there? Keep it up, then, baby.”
Amidst all his begging, your words pierced through Jisung’s foggy brain. They seemed to remind him that he still had some shred of control over the pace, because he picked up the speed of his bouncing again, rolling his body sinfully each time you bottomed out inside him so that your strap grinded against his prostate just right. 
“You fucked yourself into such a cute little mess,” you crooned. Jisung whined above you, too far gone to decide if he should hide away from your attention, or bask in it. “Such a little pleaser. You like putting on a show for me?”
You tilted your hips so that your strap brushed against his sweet spot once more, earning a long drawn-out groan from the boy. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling as sound after filthy sound poured out of him nonstop. “Love it...hah...love it s’ much. Watch me, look at me, please.”
His head began thrashing from side to side, the muscles in his stomach clenching and unclenching as his high crept up on him. You hissed softly when he sank his fingernails deep into your flesh, so caught up in his fit of pleasure that he didn’t even process his how hard he was gripping you. All he could make sense of anymore was the heat that seared through his abdomen each time he sank down on your strap. 
“You’re so good, baby. So good for me. Are you close?” you purred, rubbing small circles into his hips with your thumbs. Your voice was so gentle in contrast to the harsh smacking of his thighs against yours, it made him dizzy. 
“Ah, yeah, yeah. Gonna cum. P-please, ‘m so close. Please—” 
You jerked up to meet him halfway, burying your strap so deep inside him that he swore he saw stars. “Cum for me, baby boy. You’ve earned it.” 
You took his bouncing cock into your grasp, feeling it throb in your palm as you began to stroke him. With just a few glides of your hand, Jisung was sent over the edge. He let out a choked sob as his orgasm hit him at last, his seed shooting onto his stomach in hot spurts, more intensely than usual after being pent up for so long. You milked him through his high, admiring the way the white ropes of cum decorated his tan skin as you pumped out every drop.
Jisung panted heavily above you, jaw still slack, quivering in place as the aftershocks rippled through his body. When the last of his seed had dribbled out from his tip, you carefully released his length from your hold, allowing it to fall limp. The rise and fall of his chest gradually began to slow, and he leaned into your hand the instant you rested it on his cheek, regardless of the fluids coating it. Your touch washed away the last of the hot adrenaline pumping through his system, replacing it with an overwhelming sense of calm; safety. 
“My Hannie,” you murmured. “My sweet boy. You did so well for me.”
Jisung’s eyes fluttered open at last, still a bit hazy, but just as full of adoration for you as your gaze was for him. He managed a lazy, lopsided grin before collapsing forward to nuzzle into you, pressing his nose to your neck and breathing in. With your warmth enveloping him, your scent surrounding him, and the fullness of your strap still nestled inside him, you knew as well as he did that there was no chance of him getting up any time soon. The sticky feeling of his release seeping through your clothes was uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arms around him nonetheless. It was worth all the clean laundry in the world, to hold him like this.
Jisung pressed his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss, catching you by surprise. When he pulled his head back with a sigh of pure bliss, that familiar gleam was back in his eyes, and you knew that he had fully recovered from earlier.
You leaned forward to give him a kiss of your own, smiling into it when you heard the faint sound of his stomach growling, followed by a cute, muffled giggle of embarrassment spilling from his mouth to yours.
“By the way,” you brushed your lips against his. “I made breakfast.”
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eldritch-nightmare · 7 months
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Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)
-💫Anon
a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.
how do they react after an argument?
includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.
warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.
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JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.
if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.
LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.
he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.
SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.
slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.
NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.
she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?
EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.
and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.
JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.
if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.
CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.
but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?
CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.
you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.
TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.
once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.
NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.
since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.
X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.
he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.
KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.
when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.
JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.
you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.
THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.
and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.
HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.
he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.
SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.
and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.
THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.
once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.
THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.
the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.
ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.
and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.
HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.
he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.
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lovedazai · 3 months
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03. ACROSS THE UNIVERSE . . . dazai finally gets everything he’s ever wanted: you. in return, he tells you the truth.
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ft. beast!dazai + f!reader, pm boss!dazai, civilian!reader, possessive behavior, spoilers for beast au light novel & manga, reader ignores red flags, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex, dazai cries, multiple (two) rounds…mdni !! 4.7k w.c.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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dazai never considered himself a lucky man, until now.
you don’t seem to care that you only just met him yesterday morning as you let him trail his hands along the silky fabric of your dress, caressing your hips with the tenderness of a lover. he only lets you go to allow you to pull his jacket off his arms, and his hands are already back on you again before it even hits the floor. you unbutton his vest enough to slip your hands beneath his shirt, reaching up to kiss him as you strip him down. your tights find their way to the ground with his tie, and his belt follows right after.
your giggle vibrates against his mouth as his fingers spread against your ribcage, trying to hold as much of you as he can fit in his hands, and he pries into your smile with his tongue. you cup his jaw, not letting him separate from you as you guide him down the hall toward your bedroom. your hands fumble with the doorknob, wincing when you accidentally bump him against the edge of the door.
“sorry,” you smile shyly, but he swallows the words, not wanting to be apart for another second. he doesn’t even feel it anyway; he thinks if you pulled out a gun and shot him at this moment, he might’ve even thanked you.
you intertwine your fingers with his as you lead him into the dark of your room, and he’s suddenly surrounded by everything that is so quintessentially you. he commits it all to memory: the title of the book on your nightstand, the delicate splay of jewelry on your dresser, the pajama shorts hanging over the side of your hamper in the corner. he wants to belong here with you so badly, to forcefully carve a space for himself in your life, even if it was jagged and splintered.
he jolts out of his thoughts when you cup his cock through his trousers, grinning when you feel he’s already hard. you kiss a line across the sharp edge of his jaw to the delicate curve of the column of his throat, remnants of your lipstick staining his bandages a pale pink. you place a kiss on every new piece of exposed skin and cotton as you unbutton his shirt, your lips traveling down his chest and his stomach until you reach his waistline. the sight of you on your knees for him, paired with the warmth of your palms sliding up his thighs feels like enough for him to cum all over your pretty face. he forces himself to think of anything else as you unzip his pants: that meeting he canceled yesterday, chuuya and his stupid hat, anything. this had to last.
he slips the more you touch him, practically throbbing against your hand as you pump his cock. you lick up a stripe up his length, catching the pearly drops that leak from its head on the tip of your tongue. he watches, pretty brown hues seeped in adoration as you let his balls settle in your palm, fondling them softly as you press wet kisses along his length. you suckle on the tip, leaving him slicked with your spit as you stroke him steadily.
he cups your jaw with a trembling hand, running his thumb along the plush of your bottom lip as his cock pops out of your mouth. you flutter your lashes up at him, kissing the tip of his finger. everything that’s happened these past two daysーbut especially thisーis so much more than he deserved; even still if he doesn’t get more, he swears he’ll die. he slips his thumb into your mouth, past your teeth until he presses down onto the cushion of your tongue, pulling your jaw open.
you keep your eyes locked on his visible one as he pushes inside you. your lips wrap around him pliantly, tongue soft as it rubs along the underside of his cock. your hands stay on his thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing strokes along the sensitive skin beneath his hipbones as you engulf him in your mouth as best as you can. he strokes your hair as you bob your head up and down his length with care, swirling the tip of your tongue around the head of his cock before you take him the slightest bit deeper.
he feels himself getting closer towards the point of no return embarrassingly quick, inhibitions melting away into sizzling hot need like butter in a pan. he thrusts his hips forward, moaning as he feels the tips of your nails dig into his skin and hears your soft gag. your eyes are dilated, the blacks of your pupils glistening with tears the further he pushes and the more he takes from you, bumping against the back of your throat.
he closes his fingers around a bunch of hair at the crown of your head, feeling you constrict around him as you try to breathe around his length. it’d be so easy to cum down your sweet little throat just like this, but he can’t let this end already, not when he’s so close to making you his.
“wait,” it takes everything in him to pull you back, your hair still wrapped around his palm and tangled in between the gaps of his fingers. there’s a string of saliva connecting you to the head of his cock, and he watches as it snaps when you lick your lips, parted and panting. “let meー i want to…please?”
“you’re so cute like this,” you lean forward and kiss his tip, and he tugs at your hair softly. you rest your cheek against his thigh as you press little kisses to his hips lazily. “tell me what you want.”
you’re still wearing your clothes, and his eyes trail down to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your heavy breaths. he can see the rhythm of your heart in the dip of your breasts, racing so fast it beats through your skin.
he trails his fingers through the ends of your hair, brushing them over your shoulder. his thumb catches on one of your straps, and he slides it down your arm, exposing one breast and then the other, watching as they drop from the fabric of your dress. your nipples perk against the chilly air, only hardening more under his attention as he skims the pads of his thumbs over them, squeezing your tits in his palms greedily. he swallows, feeling the saliva pool in his mouth, indulging in the dreamy exhale that falls from the back of your throat as your shoulders melt beneath his touch.
he’s never held something so soft in his hands before. he joins you on the ground, knees pressing uncomfortably into your hardwood floors. he takes one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other between his fingers. he keeps your nipple rolled between his teeth with just enough pressure to have you instinctively arching forward, and he soothes it with his tongue, circling the delicate peak of your tits. he matches your soft whimpers when you dig your fingers into his messy hair, nails scratching against his scalp and sending sparks shooting down his spine. your skin glistens with spit as he pulls back to squeeze your tits together, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the nook of your cleavage.
he trails his hands down your back, peeling the rest of your dress off your body as he sucks the pretty pink of your other nipple between his lips. you cling to his shoulders as he lifts you by your ass, spreading you open just enough to pull a moan from your lips, dropping you onto the edge of your bed. you look down at him with hazy eyes, letting out a breathless, blissed-out giggle as you brush his bangs out of his flushed face.
he traces the lace edge of your panties, delicate enough that he could sink his nails into the silken fabric and tear them right off your body. he brushes his finger over your crotch, elated in the knowledge you picked them out for his eyes alone. they’re beautiful, covering your most intimate part with translucent fabric, the small bow threaded into the waistband like you were a gift for him to unwrap, but all he needs now is for them to be out of his way.
he drags the elastic down your hips, finally revealing your glistening pussy, and he nearly moans out of sheer desire. he presses you back into your bed by your thighs, kneeling before you like an altar. he’s lost count of how many times he’s fantasized about you, spread out in front of him like this, in the dark of his room beneath his sheets, or behind the locked door of his office, cock fisted in frustration.
“you’re the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen,” he says, pressing a kiss to the soft, delicate skin of your inner thigh, resisting the urge to skin his teeth into you. he strokes his thumb along the curve of your ankle as he pulls your legs open even further. “can you keep those pretty eyes on me?”
you nod frantically, mapping the shape of his skull beneath your palm as he presses his lips against your swollen clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. he grins as he watches your dreamy smile melt away into lips parted in bliss, inhaling sharply. he presses his tongue flat against your cunt, dragging it down meticulously. he lets the spit collect in his mouth as he circles your dripping entrance, drawing his tongue along your folds. your brows pinch, lashes fluttering, but you keep them open obediently, staring at him with glassy eyes.
he eats you out like the two of you didn’t just come back from dinner, lapping up everything you give him greedily and then coming back for more. he wants to push you over the edge so badly, if only to prove to you that he could make you feel so much better than anyone else. you taste so much sweeter than any dessert he could’ve ordered, like honey down his throat. the soft mewls that fall from your lips caress his ears and tighten the knot growing in the pit of his stomach.
the tip of his nose rubs against your clit as you grind your hips down onto his face. his eyes roll back as you tug on his hair desperately, the firm grip on his roots almost as deliciously painful as his throbbing cock, weeping and begging to be touched between his legs. he considers dropping his grip, letting you suffocate him between your thighs until he cums all over the unstained white sheets hanging from your bed.
he feels your muscles twitch and tense beneath his palms, and watches in awe as you finally break his gaze to throw your head back and gasp out in euphoria. your cunt flutters against his mouth, leaving remnants of your pleasure dripping down his chin like nectar as you push his head away weakly.
“dazai,” you whine. he trails his lips upward, kissing your stomach, feeling the way it expands and collapses with each shaky breath. “i need you so bad. i want all of youー inside me, please.”
your legs are still trembling when you crawl backward on your bed, switching positions to get onto all fours. you spread your knees wide, arching your back, taunting him. his thighs bracket your own as he gets behind you, hands shaking as he rubs his cock through your folds and soaks up the remnants of his spit and your slick.
“i’ll give you everything,” he whispers. “anything. i’ll give you the whole world.”
he watches as you split open around him, impatiently pressing your ass back to ease him inside, dropping your head toward your chest with a satisfied sigh. inch by inch of his cock disappears into your cunt, engulfing him in wet, sticky warmth. your gummy walls feel like heaven, molding around him perfectly; you really were made for him, weren’t you?
he smooths his hands down the space between your shoulder blades, urging you down onto your stomach until you’re completely at his mercy, laid flat beneath him with only your ass lifted and pressed against his hips. his chest is flush against your back, bandages loosened and sticking to him sloppily. he slides his palms down your arms until he reaches your hands, intertwining his fingers with your own and pinning them down against your pillows.
he wants to go slow and give you the proper, passionate moment he knows you deserve, but you’re squeezing around him like you want to pull him in even closer, and he just can’t help himself. his body moves on its own, fucking into you with harsh snaps of his hips. his body covers yours completely, pressing you deeper into the plush of your mattress. he wants to keep you like this forever, sheltered against his chest, always within his reach. he can barely hold back the i love you that threatens to fall from his lips, and he presses a searing kiss to your shoulder to keep it inside, teeth nipping at your skin.
you hide your pretty face in your sheets, muffled whines and the steady slap of his skin against yours like a symphony created just for the two of you. he keeps his ankles hooked on your shins, holding you open for himself to take. the years of yearning for you, the numbing despair that he never would’ve chosen this life for himself, he lets it all out inside you, and your cunt clings to him with every stroke.
“dazai,” you cry, nails digging into his skin as you squeeze his hands desperately. he hopes you do it hard enough to break through his skin, make him bleed, and leave a scar; he needs a permanent reminder that this happened to him. he wants to fuck you hard enough that you’ll feel it afterward and remember him, too. his thighs ache as he tries to thrust even deeper, almost scared you’ll disappear from right beneath him like a mist, but you’re squeezing around him too tightly to be anything but real.
“call me osamu,” he whispers, forehead falling to your neck. “please.”
“osamu.”
the syllables of his name break around a moan, but he thinks it sounds even better that way. he pries his hands out of your grip to cling to your waist, hand splaying against your stomach, trying to pull you even closer, even deeper, as his lungs ache and heave. his nails dig into the soft skin of your hips as the pressure behind his eyes builds and overflows, and he cums inside you with hot, thick spurts, shuddering against you with breathy whines. he can hardly breathe, completely overwhelmed by the sheer emotion he feels swell in his chest after years of feeling nothing at all. his tears melt into your skin, dripping off his chin as he presses his lips wherever he can reach; he kisses up the curve of your shoulder blade, the pulse point on your neck, the warmth of your cheek, the baby hairs stuck to your temple. he meets your lips when you lift your head, looking over your shoulder.
“dazai…?”
he sniffles pathetically, finally relaxing his hold on you. he’s still halfway hard as he slips out of you, letting you sit up and cup his face. the pads of your thumbs wipe at the tears pooling down his right cheek, the other stroking the damp cotton of his bandages.
“it’s okay,” he buries his face into your palm, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. you tuck his hair behind his ear, touching him more softly than anyone else ever has in his entire life, and it makes him convulse with another sob. “you’re okay. was that too much?”
he looks away, instinctively hiding behind his messy, overgrown bangs. you always were the only one who could make him feel so stripped down, able to look past his layers and see the bare essentials of the mess of a man he was. he lets his gaze drift down lazily to the sheets, drawn to the pretty pink of your cunt between your thighs, slightly parted as you sit back on your ankles. he watches, memorized as his cum drips out of you in small, pearly beads.
you follow his eyes, hips jolting up in surprise as he collects it with the tip of his cock, catching on your clit. you let out a whimper as he presses back into you, still sensitive. you let him lay you back down against your pillows, and he sighs dreamily as you flutter around him. you looked like an angel with your smooth back so prettily arched, your hair splayed across your shoulders, and your ass bouncing off his thighs, but what he really wants to see is how your face melts in pleasure beneath him, because of him. he sighs in satisfaction as his hips rest flush against yours, sheathed completely inside of you once more.
“wait,” you push against his chest when he leans down to kiss you, and his heart stalls; did he ruin this? “are you sure you’re up for this right now? we don’t have to. i promise it’s okay.”
it wasn’t the look of contempt or fear that he was so used to receiving; it was concern, pure and genuine in your furrowed brows and big eyes. when was the last time someone had been truly worried over his well being? maybe it was that morning when odasaku had found him on his front steps six years ago.
“yes,” he whispers. “i can do it. let me make you feel good,” he kisses the corner of your mouth pleadingly. “i’ll take care of you. i need itー i need you.”
your cautious gaze is blurred through his watery eyes, already obscured by his bandages. you take in his long, damp lashes, his rosy cheeks still dewy with tears, and he resists the urge to hide again. you drag your nails up his chest until you reach his bandaged shoulders, curling your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down and pressing your lips against his.
“even if it’s just for tonight,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his torso. “i’m yours.”
his heart stalls again for an entirely different reason. something instinctual burns bright in his body, and he kisses you deeply, sliding his tongue against yours as he thrusts his hips forward. he can feel his own release inside you as he starts to fuck you again, so soft and wet and fucking perfect. he grips the plush of your thighs between his fingers, pressing them open toward your tits, bouncing with each of his movements. you keep his cheeks cradled between your palms, licking into his mouth and tracing your tongue along the edge of his teeth.
he drops onto his forearms, angles his cock a little deeper, and you gasp out, toes curling as you dig your heels into his lower back.
“there,” you nearly yell, voice pitchy. “keep doing that, osamu, please.”
you fall into the act of making love with him so well; he has a desperate, delusional hope in the back of his mind that maybe you really did feel the connection the two of you shared, so deep it spanned universes.
he slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in steady, pressured circles. he moans when you suck his bottom lip between your teeth, velvet walls clenching around his cock so tightly, it almost hurts. he knows he’s pushing himself, his most sensitive nerves burning from sheer pleasure, but nothing makes him ache more than the thought of being away from you. he doesn’t even remember how he survived without you before yesterday morning.
your ankles hook around his lithe waist, trying to force your legs even wider, keeping him completely anchored inside you. your breasts squish against his chest, perked nipples grazing the fabric of his bandages. you cling to him desperately, and he watches with hearts floating in place of his pupils at the way your eyes glaze over and water with pleasure, breathy cries falling from your lips as your muscles release all of their building tension, trembling against his torso. your cunt gushes around him as you melt into his body, and he feels that warmth bubble up inside him again: i love you.
he wants it all with you; every lingering touch and fleeting look, every inside joke and bite of food stolen off your plate, starting every early morning with your body against his and ending every late night the exact same way.
no one would ever take you from him again. there was a string of fate tying the two of you together, even if he had to fight the powers that be and tighten the knot around your finger himself.
his control crumbles, peeling away piece by piece like wet pieces of paper. he doesn’t bother to ask where he should finish this time, but it hardly matters anymore, and you don’t seem to care either, lifting your hips in time with his as he feverishly thrusts into you. your soft moans melt into a whine as he stalls inside you as deeply as he can, indulging in the nasty little voice in his head, chanting a mantra of mine, mine, mine as he cums inside of you for the second time.
it’s quiet in the afterglow, just the two of you in the universe you created in your small apartment bedroom. the soft cotton of your sheets is threaded with stardust, the lingering trails of your perfume orbits around him, and the sound of you, living and breathing beneath him as your lungs expand and constrict, ebbs and flows in your own personal tide. you smile up at him so fondly, he wants to melt between your fingers and let you put him back together again.
he collaspes, forehead falling to your collarbone. he shakily finds your hand, dropping it on top of his head, greedily wanting as much intimacy as you’ll be willing to give him. his eyes flutter close in bliss as you thread your fingers through his strands, indulging in that touch he’s only ever felt the ghost of in his sweetest dreams. laying with his nude body against yours, only a few strips of cotton seperating the two of you, feels so intimate, it was as if he wasn’t a complete stranger to you. the realization prickles at him like the biting winter air, and he feels something desperate tighten against his ribs.
“would you believe me if i told you that in another life, we were lovers?” he waits for you to pull away in confusion; maybe you’d even be disgusted, throw his clothes at him and tell him to get out. the only thing more painful than being haunted by the memories of his other life would be knowing he was so close to getting what he wanted and failed, letting you slip right between his fingers. he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to recover from the rejection.
“yeah, i would,” your answer is almost immediate, and he can’t remember the last time someone has taken him by such surprise. he lifts his head from your chest, one visible eye wide as he looks down at you. you meet his shock with a shy smile, still massaging the crown of his head beneath your fingertips. “there’s just something about you. i don’t know if i can explain it. is that weird?”
his nose bumps against yours as he dives down and kisses you, tilting your jaw upward to slide his lips between your own. he has so much lost time to make up for, but he’d give you the rest of his life, he swears it.
“you have no idea what i had to go thorugh to get back to you,” he whispers, pulling back and letting his lips just barely brush over yours, breathing you in. you couldn’t possibly understand, but he tells you anyway, about the you and him that exists in another universe, the one where everything is different. he spares the detail about him being the leader of the port mafia, but he promsies himself he’d tell you the rest later on, when he truly knows you won’t run from him. maybe over breakfast at your favorite café a few months from now; a proper coffee date, with footsie under the table and vanilla flavored kisses. “there’s a piece of you with me in every universe, my belladonna.”
you’re at a loss for words, he knows. all you can do is stare at him, eyes big as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing each fingertip.
“i know i’m not the same man you fell in love with,” he presses his cheek into your hand. “but i’m still just as selfish as he is. i’m not sure if i’ll be able to let you go after this.”
“i don’t really know what you’re talking about,” your lips curl into a sympathatic smile, and they’re magnetic; all it takes is you brushing his bangs back for him to kiss you again. he pouts when you pull away from him. “but i know that i really like you.”
“really?” he asks, voice almost childlike in its disbelief.
“really,” you skim the edge of his bandages curiously, fingertips slipping beneath the first layer. he doesn’t stop you from slowly unraveling them, leaving his face completely bare. he has so much love for you, and it overflows and shines through his eyes as they both look down at you for the first time.
“you’re really pretty,” you stroke your thumb beneath his eye, and his skin tingles from not being touched for so long. “so, so beautiful, osamu.”
your lips are so soft, kiss-bitten and plush beneath his own. you hold as much of him as you can in your hands, caressing his face like he was something worth being gentle with.
“you’ll stay, right?” your eyes flutter open, hopeful and pleading.
“i should be the one asking you that question,” he smiles bittersweetly. you tilt your head, wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him down next to you.
he lays back on your sheets, as if he truly belonged there. he’s quick to touch you again, cautiously draping his arm around your waist. you really are there, physically beneath his hand as he splays his fingers against the soft skin of your tummy.
he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a single moment, watching as you slowly drift off to sleep against him. he smiles, knowing you felt so safe around him already. you should; he’d guard you with his life, and no one would ever dare to take you from him now.
“are you awake?” he whispers after what could’ve been hours of mapping your every feature to his memory, watching for any signs of consciousness. your lashes rest against your cheeks, breath coming out in even, warm beats against his chest. his heart throbs as you let out a small, sleepy noise, instinctively curling closer toward him as he brushes a finger across your forehead, pulling back the strands that fall too close to your eyes. once he’s completely certain you won’t hear him, he tilts his neck down, pressing a kiss between your eyebrows. he whispers the words against your skin as if he could imprint them into you. “i love you.”
he feels like he can rest easier tonight than he ever has. he always knew you’d be there, keeping him company in his dreams, those flashbacks of another life with you. now, he almost dares to hope you’d stay long enough by his side for there to be memories of his own making. you’re the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes; for the first time, he knows for certain you’ll be the first thing he sees when he opens them in the morning.
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p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ wow i can’t believe it’s over !! i poured so, so much love into this series, it’s the longest fic i’ve written so far & something i’ve worked on for a long time. it’s v much a love letter to beast dazai who i adore w all of my heart. i can’t put into words how grateful i am for every comment, rb, & ask i’ve gotten regarding this series, but pls know each one means the world to me. i truly hope u enjoyed reading atu as much as i enjoyed writing it ᰔ
BSD MASTERLIST
taglist . . . @dazaisfavgf @bakananya @acommonstargirl @little-miss-chaoss @walking-simp @cheeszsecakee @settingssun @baizzhu @vivigoesinsane @shigarakisgamergirl @squigglewigglewoo @deadflycomputerlogs @auraxins @pois0n3dh34rt @chuuyrr @kentopedia @ttaehyxx @motel6btch (if u werent tagged, its bc i lost my original taglist for this chapter :< im so sorry !!)
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bridgetoesoteria · 3 months
Text
💌💟Realistically...What would they write in a love letter to you?
Surpriseee bish! Here is my double post as puh-romised. Its spring break, I aced my midterm, I had a nice lil chit chat with my crush where I high key let on to having feelings . *ahem* Now I wanna smoke and pull cards with my internet besties <3
So, I don't like those mushy-gushy readings that tell you the most ideal outcome, not the most realistic outcome. I am hoping to channel an authentic "letter," from the person you are here for.
Options are left to right. I hope it resonates 🥰
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Pile 1
4-card spread: Page of Swords, Girl w/ Violin, Strength, The Sun. BOTD: 3 of Swords
I just want to see you happy. I hope you know that. I miss the feeling of you holding me. I think about all the times, I got to hold your hands in mine. I think you are amazing and angelic. If I ever seem difficult, or like I am pushing you away, its just because I don't want to hurt you even worse. You're the whole package. You can shine with or without me.
If there is still bad blood, I will make it right. At least that's what I think about doing. All the time. Can I step up? Can I really have my happy ending; The car, the house, the family, building a life together. I need to get over my cold feet, because the only person I see is you.
P.S.
I love your eyes. I love how much hope I feel when I look into them. I love your hair, especially the length/thickness. I love how balanced you are, and how you can consider different points of view. It has taught me to be more compassionate. It has taught me to care about someone other than myself. You show me that I can get over my demons. We could be a power couple.
(If you have a "butt chin," your person loves this too lol)
Pile 2
4-card spread: 8 of Swords, 9 of Swords(R), 9 of Wands, The Star. BOTD: The Emperor
This person is definitely very attracted to you, but we are here for a love letter, mkay? Not a sext.
I don't know why you are acting like you don't want me anymore. You better not be giving away my ____ to anyone else. I want to be with you. I consider us to be a couple, no matter what happens. If you question where my head is at, my loyalty is with you. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I hate thinking about you being out there, living like you're single. I think about us having kids, animals, a family life. (If you already have kids they want to keep the family together).
I am working on my temptations. I know I need to be more responsible and I am willing to do that. I want to try having self-control. If that means cutting other people off, or waiting until you are comfortable being physical, I will do that. I respect your boundaries. You have every right to have them. I know you are just trying to love yourself. You should always stand your ground...even with me.
P.S.
You have a beautiful heart. You are so nurturing. You keep everything flowing. You completely fulfill me. You are more than enough. You definitely know what you are doing. I wouldn't have taken you for a "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" type.
Right now, you probably are focusing on yourself. I hope you find the happiness that you are looking for. After pouring into everyone else so much, I hope you will start pouring into you now. I hope you will be receptive to all the good things you deserve.
Pile 3
4-card spread: Ace of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, Page of Cups, The Empress. BOTD: Justice
I can't figure you out. And its...amazing! It keeps everything so fresh. Maybe you don't feel like you are being mysterious but you are. I want to know what goes on "behind-the scene." I don't mean that in a pervy way. I mean, I want to know who you are, where you come from, what is currently going on in your life. I want to make the cut. Do you ever think about what your favorite diamond cut is? 💎
(Where ever your connection is, move up a step. This is not a literal proposal for everyone)
I want us to be on track. If I have to apologize, I will do that. I want to finally start something new. I want to make you feel like the king/queen that you are. I want us to be happy together. Especially if we are expecting 🤰
P.S.
Can I just brag on you really quick? I love your face shape. I love when we lock eyes. I love how you style your hair, even if I have never said so aloud. Even if I tease you about it sometimes. Its cute and so you. Everyone says we (would) go well together, and I have to agree. We could be our town's MGK and Megan Fox 🤣🤣
On a more serious point, you make me want to do better. Internally, I always feel challenged by you. I have my old beliefs, and then there's you. You make me want to throw out all the BS I believe about myself and start valuing myself more. I see how magical life can be, because I see how many miracles happen when we are together. I know I can do better.
Pile 4 4-card spread: 8 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Emperor, 8 of Swords. BOTD: Ace of Swords.
(Your person could actually be the type to spill their feelings over texts or in the notes section of their phone)
I think about saying this all the time. I build up the courage to start typing, but I can never hit send. I just feel this lump in my throat. I'm a man! (or they are just someone who suppresses their emotions). I shouldn't have all these feelings. I feel overwhelmed by my attraction, my thoughts, my unexpressed feelings.
That's kind of what I grew up with. It was normal. People call it "traditional." I always thought (one of their parents, but I am really getting mom) could do better. Why are you still with them? I don't want that to be you. I don't want that to be our story. You always carry yourself well. I'm proud to be with you. I know you're a catch. I know you are the full package. I can't let you go. Please reconsider. I want to be with you.
P.S.
I hope you're getting rest. Don't lose sleep over me. Which is hypocritical, because I stay up thinking about you. Don't be scared...but I may have watched you sleep. I like how peaceful you look. I feel like I have privacy to fully process my emotions. I look at your face and I think about all the possibilities. It makes me nervous. If I have made a proposal of some kind, maybe to reconcile, I hope you sleep on it before you make a decision.
Pile 5 4-card spread: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 9 of Wands, The Sun. BOTD: 8 of Swords
I think a lot of you are asking about a feminine energy, but flip the roles if needed. You could be the feminine energy being described, so maybe they want you to know you are "seen". It just started raining, so that makes me feel like this person is definitely more on the feminine side, or in touch with their emotions. You could both be young, or they're younger, or someone has a baby face.
I think about you all the time. Even when I am sad. I don't know if you know how much I struggle. My mental health isn't always in the best place. But you take my mind off of everything. I love when you look deep in thought. I come up with all these random ideas about what you could be thinking of. If you are away getting better, overcoming an ED, I hope you are being strong. I look forward to seeing you again.
You make me so happy. I miss being playful and messing with you. I could see us having babies. I think I would be a great mom/dad. But I know that's daydreaming and wishful thinking. I don't always understand your moods or what you want from me. Could you make it clear without it becoming an argument. I don't want to make you upset.
P.S.
You are soo pretty. I think your haircut really compliments your face. I love your side profile too. You are so smart. You know so much about the world around you or you are always willing to learn. I am impressed by your writing and/or creativity. I love everything about you. If I were an artist, I would make a portrait of you. You would be my muse. I just want you to know how special you are. You are 1 of 1 forreal. I am so grateful to have ever met you. You bring so much joy to my life.
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Whew. GD! That was a lot lol. This took me two days. I am going to relax and enjoy the start of Spring Break. Whoop whoop 🙌
And don't laugh at me...but I just discovered archives so I might stop updating my masterlist, since you can find all my readings there too.
Lastly, I am also doing personals if you have not heard! Take a gander.
~ K
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lustspren · 4 months
Text
Darkbloom ft Arin.
length: 7k words✦
Arin & Male Reader
genres: succubus¡ (or maybe something else) dom¡ Arin, femdom, cum denial, hard sex, bdsm, diabolical breeding (?, blowjob, overstimulation, thriller, horror attempt (?
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Skepticism is a double-edged sword. You learned that in a way that you wouldn't wish even on your worst enemy.
You were always told to take care of your stress, keep it at a healthy level so that it didn't affect other aspects of your life and your physique, but life events weren't exactly working in your favor. Quite the opposite.
Abusive boss at work, parents who do nothing but trample all your achievements and point you out for what you could be but aren't yet, a completely brainless roommate, a landlord who made your life miserable with the rent, and if all that wasn't enough, you were a complete failure in love. Things seemed impossible to get worse, but you were very wrong.
All the accumulated stress began to take its toll on you one by one. The mildest thing was the constant headaches and chest pains, but as the days went by your face began to stain, it wasn't acne, but you had more pimples and blackheads than normal. You didn't worry too much about it, you just bought a few skin care products and the problem went away.
Until anxiety arrived. And for that there were no products you could buy.
It wasn't something pleasant at all, especially considering that they were random episodes when you least expected it. Knots in the pit of your stomach, panic attacks in high-stress situations, a constant layer of nerves wherever you go, lack of appetite, etc. You lived with it every day, but that didn't stop you from staying strong and continuing to fight life with your head held high.
But since there were never enough misfortunes, something happened to you that, in your 22 years of life, had never happened to you. Sleep disorders. They weren't a big deal at first, from 3 nights you could suffer from insomnia in 2, and it wasn't even anything severe, it just delayed your usual bedtime a little, however, everything went downhill very quickly. The insomnia had almost completely disappeared, but now every time you woke up you felt as if an African elephant had walked over you several times. You slept, but you didn't rest. And that led to the damn narcolepsy.
Just like anxiety, it came at the most unexpected times and in the most inopportune situations. You got more than one scolding at work because of that, and your boss, as asshole as always, didn't even bother to try to understand you or find a solution to your problem no matter how much you explained it to him. Of course you never told him that he was part of the problem.
Everything accumulated, and as if living with anxiety problems, headaches, narcolepsy, and poor sleep wasn't enough, strange things began to happen.
One night you went to bed early, it had been an extremely exhausting day and you had a migraine that was going to kill you at any moment. You thought that valerian tea would help you sleep peacefully that night, and surprisingly you were right, but when you woke up in the morning you felt an intense burning on the right side of your body that went from your ribs to the mid of your thigh. You thought it was due to a bad sleeping position, surely the fabric of your pajamas had been making some kind of harmful friction, but when you undressed to take a shower you froze when you realized that what was burning on you was a large mark of red-hot scratch with a little blood seeping from several of the wounds that, you didn't have to be very smart to know were from a hand. You would associate it with something caused by sleepwalking issues, and taking into account your recent history it wouldn’t have surprised you, but those were nail marks. And your nails were neither long, nor sharp.
You were never a believer in paranormal things, you looked for a logical explanation for everything or left it as a mystery, no matter how incredible it was. But with the incident that night, no matter how much you turned it over in your head and discussed it with one of your close friends, you couldn't come to any coherent conclusion. Something had given you that scratch. Something big.
However, being the skeptic that you were, you didn't let that affect your bedtime —which was already screwed up enough. You continued to sleep every night with the same false optimism, thinking that it was only a matter of time before the insomnia and all your sleep problems would disappear. Much to your misfortune, this time you were wrong. And not only that, the worst was yet to come.
One day you couldn't stop tossing and turning in bed, looking for a comfortable position to sleep for about an hour. Finally you were just on your back, with one leg drawn up towards your body, your left arm on your chest and the other on your  head. You did your best to relax with breathing exercises, and after a few minutes you fell asleep.
Hours later you woke up with a start, agitated and in a cold sweat. Your chest inflated and deflated as if moments ago something had been cutting off your breath to an almost fatal point. You didn't remember anything at all, you hadn't even had a nightmare as such, everything just went from deep black to sitting in your bed, at 3 in the morning, with the strange feeling that you were being watched. Everything seemed in order, but the aura in the bedroom was heavy, as if you were at a high latitude where oxygen became more difficult to breathe. You looked to the left, towards the door whose lower frame let in the light from your hallway, and then to the right, staring out through the translucent curtains that covered the exit to your balcony. The deep silence was overwhelming even though you were used to it, but the wind began to howl, shaking the branches and leaves of the tree that was right in front of your residential building. It was normal at that time, but it started to blow harder, to the point where you thought the tree was going to fall. Your anxiety attacked the pit of your stomach, and as panic began to take over your body, you heard a feminine laugh in the distance that gave you goosebumps.
Despite being several meters away from your window you could hear it clearly. It was creepy, high pitched and uncontrolled, like those you heard coming from witches in the movies, but she didn't sound like an old, dilapidated and crazy woman, she sounded like a whole and upright young woman. It could have been your suggestion at the time, but you felt as if the echo of laughter was resonating within your walls. You soon realized that wasn't the case, but rather the laughter was getting closer and closer. Until he was inside your room.
The noise came from all directions, from the floor, from the ceiling, from the corners and from the walls. It felt like a powerful sound system installed inside the concrete, playing the unbearable sound over and over again. You desperately covered your ears with your pillow, but the noise was so loud it was useless. You had an uncontrolled urge to cry, but just when a tear was about to run down your cheek everything stopped. Sudden silence, once again.
Distrustful, you slowly removed the pillow from your ears, looking at every corner of your room in case the macabre woman appeared, but nothing happened. Everything was still in deep silence, even the wind had stopped blowing, and when you decided to lie down with your heart still in your throat, something started trying to open your door.
With a scream you turned and stared at the door, the knob was moving violently, and the entire door seemed about to fall out of the frame because of how hard it shook. You looked through the frame below, expecting to see the shadow of whoever was trying to break in, but there was nothing. Whatever it was, it was doing it from inside. You were immersed in a deep dread that led you to hide under your covers like a little child, just waiting for everything to stop. A few seconds passed in which you simply stayed in the fetal position, did breathing exercises to counteract the panic, and clung to your pillow as if it were going to protect you. That thing would come in any second, you were already resigned, but everything stopped. Sepulchral silence.
You didn't want to get out from under the covers, the fear that something was still out there not letting you move. The notion of time became blurry for you, it could have been 10 minutes or an hour until you gathered the courage to peek over the top edge of your blanket. There was nothing in your room, everything was still perfectly in order.
Your phone served as a distraction for a few minutes. You scrolled through every social network non-stop, looking for stimuli that would make you relax and forget about what just happened. However, the funny posts did not make you laugh, the tender things did not move you, and the news did not produce the slightest emotion in you. And even though you were still terrified, your body demanded you sleep again, so you put the phone aside and turned to your natural side, turning your back to the door.
But looking there made your blood run cold. The glass door that led to the balcony, which you locked every night without fail, opened.
You couldn't sleep the rest of the night.
From that day on you decided to finally try to make a change in your life. You had a small savings fund that was going to help you survive for at least a month, so you quit your job. Your parents reproached you for this, but you cut off communication with them in absolutely every way. Two stress sources less. Thanks to that you had several days of peaceful rest. You believed that everything would get better for you, however, you had the feeling that it was already too late.
Everything had disappeared, your anxiety, your stress problems, your insomnia and your narcolepsy, but now there was one last big problem that was the icing on the cake. Sleep paralysis.
Same as always, it started in an almost harmless way. The paralysis lasted less than a minute, nothing comparable to those that followed. It got worse and worse with each day, you heard whispers, voices, shadows where before there was nothing, dark silhouettes that looked at you from outside the balcony, and worst of all, you woke up with random scratches and bruises on parts of your body that you would never have hurt yourself.
That was not an impediment for you to continue living your life normally, it was going too well for the first time in a long time for something that happened only once during the night to ruin it, so you decided to focus on the good part that life offered you. Exercise and good nutrition became part of your daily routine, as well as normal interpersonal relationships. Many toxic friendships that did not bring you anything good were also put aside, and you felt like a fuller human being since then. Your life was going so well that sleep paralysis seemed like a rather small price to pay compared to what you got after overcoming it.
But you remember when I said the worst was yet to come, right? Yeah, yes you do.
The worst night of your life. At that moment you thought it would be the last.
That night you had your valerian tea as you always did, an hour before your bedtime. It had been a productive day for you, in the morning you went to the gym, you came home and then you went out to lunch with a girl you met at one of your training sessions, and when you got home you dedicated yourself to building a Lego set that you had saved  for a long time, but you left it halfway because you got distracted and got busy with other things.
When you put on your pajamas and got under the blanket you were more than ready to face whatever you were hallucinating when you woke up in the middle of the night. That had become a habit for you, and you already knew how to get out of it quickly. But this time you noticed strange things again, none of them were especially strange as such, but things that hadn't happened months ago and that were now all coming together. To begin with, the wind was blowing much stronger, just like that traumatic night, and a light drizzle disturbed the previously profound silence that characterized the street where you lived. It was not unpleasant for you, the sound of the drops falling in a certain way contributed to your tranquility and relaxation.
One of the dogs on your street was howling repeatedly, and no matter how much Mrs. Yvonne told him to shut up, he just wouldn't stop. The last time he had done that it was because someone who lived in that house had died, but earlier that day you had greeted Mrs. Yvonne's daughter on the way to the gym and everything seemed in order. The howl could be heard far away and was covered by the sound of the drizzle, so it didn't bother you either. Maybe the booming music just a few apartments away could have been a little annoying, but you could perfectly fall asleep that way. After a while looking at your social networks you were ready to close your eyes, and when you turned to your side you saw something that you wanted to never see again. The damn door was open again, just like that night.
Not wanting to give in to panic, you got out of bed as quickly as you could and closed the door again, but not before taking a look at the long street in front of your balcony. Everything looked as usual, only now the asphalt shone from the reflection of the lights in the puddles that the drizzle was beginning to form. You could see the dog howling at the window of the third floor apartment at the end of the street. You noticed that in his pauses between howling he was looking in your direction. A chill ran down your spine, but you wanted to think it was just a coincidence. You turned to go back to your bed, but first you looked at the Eiffel Tower behind the Paris buildings, hoping that perhaps its light would protect you from the night. How deluded.
As you settled back into your bed you thought about the door, this time trying to fool yourself that it would surely have a logical explanation this time. Maybe this time you did forget, or maybe the wind had shaken it in such a way that the lock came out of place. Whatever it was, you weren't about to ruin your night, so you just turned your back on the balcony, hugged your second pillow and closed your eyes.
You opened your eyes and you were in the most terrifying, atrocious and colossally brutal place you could imagine. The glare of the gurgling river of lava just meters from your feet blinded you and prevented you from seeing the entire scene. You took a few hasty steps backwards, tripping over a rock that made you fall on your butt to the ground, the dark, hot reddish sand staining your hands. When your eyes got used to that light you felt like your soul was leaving your body. Hundreds of people of all ages and ethnicities, chained one behind the other by rusty metal hooks stuck in their empty eye sockets, slowly walking along the river of lava that stretched from up the hill, winding through large rocks of all shapes, most of them with sharp peaks and whose foundations fell off to fall into the lava with big splashes.
The line of people moved forward at slow, tortuous steps, their decomposed and burned bodies somehow still standing. Their feet were scorched up to the fibula thanks to the lava, and their hands were cut off so that they couldn't remove the hooks from where there used to be eyes. But they still had a mouth with which to scream in deep agony and suffering, in a way so heartbreaking that it penetrated your bones and managed to convey to you what they felt. You wanted to look where they were going, but your stupor didn't let you take your eyes off what was watching those people.
Humanoid-looking figures, as tall as a four-story building, with spindly limbs and glossy skin as black as the night itself. They were not wearing any clothes, so their thin, almost bony physique was completely exposed. They also had no facial features, just slight depressions where their eyes should be and a line that ran from their chin to the middle of their neck. Their heads were completely bald, and the fingers of their hands were long and pointed, reminding you of the legs of a spider. They did not interfere in any way with those condemned to torture, they only limited themselves to watching while they prowled around in an apparently intelligent manner. Detailing them, you realized that they did not walk, they floated just centimeters off the ground. All looked exactly the same, some flew away into the air and disappeared in the smoke, others stayed to watch with interest what was happening there.
You looked away for a second, and as you looked further the river became thinner and thinner and the rocks much bigger, now looking more like small mountains. Behind them, a flaming lava fall that came from so high the smoke prevented you from seeing the origin. It was like a huge hellish cave with no roof, a cave in which you were trapped with those things.
You tried to run, but when you tried to turn around, something kept you pinned in place. You didn't feel anything touching you, it was as if your entire body was inside an intangible prison that made your paralyzed muscles vibrate and feel outside that plane. You would soon discover the horrible reason. One of those things was facing your direction. No, in fact it was looking at you. The thing had no eyes, but you knew it, you knew that you had attracted its attention. Not exactly for the better.
You were terrified, you wanted with all your might for that horrible nightmare to end. The humanoid thing, however, had other plans. If it had any plan. The vibrating feeling in your body disappeared, that was a good thing. But you no longer felt your body at all. The next thing you knew, you were levitating very slowly away from the ground, and that damn thing was coming towards you. It wasn't until it was in front of you and you were level with its non-existent face that you really realized the colossal magnitude of that thing. Its head was easily larger than your entire entire body.
You levitated in the air in front of the thing for a few seconds that felt like hours. You didn't know for sure if looking at the slits that it had instead of eyes was the right thing to do, but you couldn't do anything else, in fear even your eyes were paralyzed.
After a while of just floating you started moving again, this time forward. The line that ran down to its neck, which from that distance you noticed looked like a stitched scar with hundreds of small interlocking stitches, opened wide to either side. There was nothing inside, and that was the scary thing. It was pure black in there, not a hint of shadow, or light, or anything. Pure emptiness that you didn't know why, but you had the feeling that it wasn't emptiness itself. There was something in there, something that perhaps escaped your understanding as well as that of the human being.
You floated slowly in there, unable to scream or move a single muscle. Your limbs disappeared into nothingness, and the only thing your peripheral vision saw was pure black. The sound was completely suppressed, similar to when you went underwater. And when you noticed the scar closing behind you, you woke up with such a start that your chest hurt.
You tried to scream with all your might, but nothing came out of your mouth. You also tried to move without any success. Another damn sleep paralysis. You closed your eyes, already used to the sensation and knowing how to get out. However, no matter how much you closed your eyes, the paralysis did not go away. Resigned, you opened your eyes again, thinking that maybe it was a matter of time, but looking around your room you realized that something was not right.
A shadow in the upper corner of your room. It shouldn't be there, there was absolutely nothing to project it, much less when your entire room was dark and the only light in it came from outside. You stared in that direction, and then you heard that damn laugh again, only this time it was within your four walls. It came from the darkness. You were coming from a horrifying nightmare worthy of the most disturbing horror movies, the last thing you needed to hear that maniacal laugh again. The shadow seemed to pulsate with a life of its own with each laugh, and spread in all directions until it broke away from the corner. A speck of pure blackness floated slowly through your room, and after a few turns around each corner, it came down to you. You shouldn't have, but you felt weight on your body. Not the typical feeling that there was something on top of you like in all sleep paralysis. No, there was something on top of you.
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The darkness had materialized into a physical object. More specifically a person, who was straddling you and who you could see. She was a woman, but not just any woman, possibly one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your entire life. She looked dark due to the lack of light, yet you could make out a faint shine in the dark brown hair that passed behind her ears and fell free down her back. You would have been somewhat turned on by the fact that she had two pretty small breasts exposed, if it weren't for the two enormous horns protruding from either side of her head, curving back and then forward in a hooked shape. Her horns weren't the only thing different about her, so was the strange artificial fabric that seemed to cover every part of her body except for her torso, neck, crotch, and apparently her buttocks. Detailing it, you realized that it looked exactly like the skin of those things in your nightmare, and that it was part of her body, not some kind of suit. A symbiotic relationship between woman and... something.
Dread invaded your body again.
"What's wrong, little boy?" the woman asked with a giggle that you knew more than well. She leaned forward, and you delved into her delicate, princely features. Completely contrasting with the two shiny black irises in her eyes, "Oh... right, you can't talk," her voice sounded like any girl's, even sweet.
She raised a hand and brought a long, sharp nail to your mouth. The nail didn't touch you, but it seemed to tear something in the air around your lips. You were finally able to scream in terror.
"What are you?!! What's going on?!!" you whimpered, trying to move even a single muscle in vain.
"You humans are too stupid to understand," she leaned in even closer, her breasts now pressed against your chest, her face inches from yours, "But I think you saw something very similar to me in that nightmare of yours," Her smile gave you chills. She didn't have teeth, she had blades.
"A-are you one of those things?!"
"See? You're too much of an idiot," she remarked, "I'm one of those things... but at the same time I'm not. If I were, you'd already be dead inside the void."
"The w-...what?"
"In your nightmare one of my kind swallowed you, right? Inside you cease to exist. Your body leaves the physical plane, and your soul is sent into nothingness. Nothing pleasant of course. But luckily for you..." she pressed her nail in the middle of your chest and moved down past your navel, tearing your t-shirt along the way, "I'm not here to do that."
"Please leave me alone... I haven't hurt anyone! I'm a good person!!" Despair grew more and more inside you, and with it, fear.
"I don't care if you're a good person or a bad person," she laughed again, "I just care about what's right here..." her hand moved down to your crotch to cup it against your cock.
"Don't touch me, god, please don't," you wanted to cry, but your eyes didn't even produce tears, "Don't hurt me!"
"Aw..." she straightened, "but I'm not going to hurt you! At least... not too much," her macabre smile spread from ear to ear, and her eyes looked at you before she transformed back into a shadow
The speck of darkness, smaller and more concentrated this time, fluttered throughout your entire body. You tried to follow her with your eyes, but the only thing you saw was how all your clothes were torn to pieces by what you knew were her nails. Once again you tried to scream, but nothing. When you were practically naked she materialized again on top of you, and your body began to burn everywhere. When you looked at yourself you noticed that your entire body was scratched and red hot, some wounds were even bleeding a bit.
"Stop trying to yell, you're annoying," she rolled her eyes, "and don't make me stop you from talking again."
"What are you going to do with me?! Why me?!"
"Because you used to be a little ball of negative emotions... you lured me here. And there's no turning back, not until you give me your darkbloom seed," you didn't have to be a genius to understand what she meant by that.
"But I'm not one of yours!!"
"I know. But I'm not looking to create one of my own..." her devilish smile terrified you again. On the other hand, you weren't completely in control of your body, and her thighs even covered in that fabric felt pleasant on either side of your hip, "You wouldn't understand. You're a stupid, primitive human."
"Y-You're not a demon, aren't you?"
"Demons don't exist, fool. Stop asking questions, you wouldn't want your little brain to explode with information it can't understand... wouldn't you?" She brought her hand closer to your cock, you feared thinking she would rip it off, but she just subtly grabbed it and started rubbing it. You hated that it felt good, but you hated more how you went rock hard in a matter of seconds.
She kept moving her hand on your cock, maybe a little too hard, but it felt like any other girl's hand—clearly none of those girls were half of a species unknown to you. At first she did it slowly, and you enjoyed it. In a normal circumstance you would have let out a small moan, but you couldn't produce any sound other than words.
"Just… don't kill me," you pleaded, looking into her eyes. The fear in you didn't go away, but you weren't going to let it control you. It's not like you could do anything anyway, you just didn't want to give in to panic and test the patience of a supernatural being.
"No one said anything about killing you. But I hope your body can withstand what I'll do to it."
The woman got off you and lay down on one side of you, with her head above yours, so that what was on your right were her pair of pretty tits. You didn't know why, but you wanted them in your mouth. She raised a thigh on top of yours, the artificial fabric covering her body feeling soft and warm against your skin. Her body pressed against the side of yours, her pussy—seemingly as normal as her tits—rubbing against your pubic bone.
"Suck my tits. You humans love that, don't you?" she ordered over your head. Her hand gradually moved faster on your hard cock.
"To human women... yes," you believed what you were saying, but those tits and she looked like a human, "I-I can't move anyway."
"I'd let you move and take control. But I don't think you want to suffer the side effects of touching me with your hands," she moved her hand faster, and suddenly you were able to gasp.
"And they are?"
"You could become addicted to me. Dependent on my body. And believe me, you wouldn't want that," was what she said before covering your view with her chest and putting one of her tits in your mouth.
You expected a different taste, maybe a pungent or rotten taste, but it tasted like skin, normal skin. You started moving your tongue and lips. Her chest felt soft, like a small cotton cloud inside your mouth. You still felt a little uncomfortable and strange with what was happening, but when the hand on your cock started to feel that good you had no choice but to give in to your carnal impulses. Now every time she switched from one mound to another inside your mouth you ate it as good as you could, sucking and licking both nipples as if your life depended on it—maybe it did.
"You seem really good at that," you never thought she would moan, but she did, "what else is that mouth good for other than asking questions you don't want to know the answers to?"
Without stopping moving her hand, she sat up and climbed on top of you again. This time she turned her back on you, which she also had uncovered. At that moment the moon came out of the clouds, and illuminated both her "normal" skin and her other skin. One looked beautiful and pale, the other looked smooth and shiny despite being a deep black. Just like those damn things in your nightmare. Her hair looked normal too, a deep brown and with a shine that looked like hair gel, but you couldn't be sure. Anyway, you stopped seeing both her back and her hair, as she leaned back until her unexpectedly beautiful ass was planted against your face.
Her pair of thighs pressed on either side of your head, as you felt them you realized that the closest thing to what that second skin felt like was the tightest latex. But it wasn't latex, there were no seams or edges anywhere, both skins fused together naturally. Of course that wasn't the important thing at the time. Your face was buried between her ass cheeks, and your mouth met a very dangerously delicious pussy.
You were going to put your mouth in motion, but you felt a tingling in your lower abdomen. She had not stopped moving her hand for a single second, she moved it in a frantic and tireless manner. You were about to explode, and just as you were going to release your load—or your darkbloom seed, as she called it—she stopped. Now you could scream and complain, but it was no use being smothered against tender, warm flesh. You couldn't squirm in protest either. It was a desperate feeling.
"Stop complaining and eat, you damn scum, eat!" it could have been a figment of your imagination, but you almost felt her voice distort a little as she said that.
You ate. You ate as well as you could, imagining that she was a normal woman—in a way she was. Passionate kisses, licking, sucking, everything necessary to make her moan more and more, and louder. You wondered if the neighbors would hear any of it through the walls. It was quite late, maybe 3 or 4 in the morning. If so, you were going to get a good scolding later.
In an unexpected act she collapsed forward, and with one hand grabbed your cock to put it in her mouth. You had to make a mental archive, but you were sure it was the best that had ever housed your cock ever. It was a feeling impossible to describe in words, but it made sense for you to attribute it to her simply not being human. She bobbed her head up and down expertly, as if it were the most exciting sport for her. You just ate, tasting the most delicious pussy you had ever felt against your lips.
Her mouth took every inch of your cock without any problem, making it clear that her gag reflex was non-existent. With each pump you felt her nose touch your balls and her chin touch your pubes. You moaned against her pussy, and she moaned even louder. Her thighs pressed on either side of your head tensed, and you felt that if she wanted to, she would have crushed it like a watermelon. She ground her ass against your face, rubbing her extremely wet pussy against your mouth and nose. That didn't make much sense to you, if she wasn't human, how could she secrete fluids?
Your cock vibrated with her moans, and her pussy vibrated with yours. You knew she wasn't going to let you cum unless she did first, so you doubled your efforts. These paid off faster than you expected, as she seemed to orgasm with a ragged, uncontrolled scream that made her pull your cock out of her mouth.
"Oh yes! YES!" Once again, her voice seemed to distort as she screamed and writhed on your face, but you were no longer sure if it was your imagination, "now you let me see that seed!"
She didn't reintroduce your cock into her mouth, but rather she went back to what she was originally doing. She grabbed your cock with both hands, and she started moving them aggressively up and down. Without any care or kindness. It hurt you a little the way she did it, but apparently that point of ecstasy brought her to a state where she didn't care about you—she never did in fact—but about her own pleasure and desires. You didn't mind this at all, you were already too close, and this time it really seemed like your lucky moment.
Her thin hands rubbed your cock up and down so hard and fast that you felt like it was going to catch on fire any second. You let out a loud muffled moan against her pussy, and in the midst of rapid movements of her wrist you came.
"That's it, give it to me!" She grunted as you shot jets of hot cum into the air, and then she squeezed your balls so hard that you screamed in pain, "More, give me more!"
She didn't stop moving one of her hands, nor did she slow down even though you kept shooting cum everywhere. The overstimulation and the grip on your balls continued to bring uncontrolled screams from your throat. Your cock ached, and you didn't think it was possible, but as soon as you stopped cumming, less than five seconds passed until you had another spike of pleasure. More cum shot everywhere, more screams of pain.
"So hot, so thick… so delicious!" This time you confirmed that, indeed, her voice did distort when she felt sexual arousal.
You were starting to feel too much pain, but she stopped right then and got off of you. When you saw her she was all covered in your cum, from her face to her tits and her abdomen. You also noticed that she had eaten some, as it was between her lips. Her dilated eyes seemed to have a glow coming from within, a sparkling white glow.
"Now you're going to give me your seed..." her tone of voice was normal again, but it sounded menacing and malevolent, "you're going to fill me with that magnificent piece of meat, and you're going to make my dark womb awaken."
"I don't want to put anything inside you… just leave me alone," it wasn't unusual to say that you felt drained during sex, but this time you felt literally drained of your vitality. You even felt dizzy.
"YOU DON'T CHOOSE THAT!" she screamed again with her voice distorted, so much that it didn't sound like her. Then she swiped your cheek with her nails, which sharpness you felt piercing your skin. As you felt the liquid run down your cheek you knew you were bleeding, and not a little.
Dread took over you again, and you began to hyperventilate.
She straddled you and then planted both feet on the mattress, adopting a squat form. She then took your still sore cock in one hand and started to stroke it until in some mysterious way it was hard again. She looked into your eyes, and after putting your cock straight, she impaled herself completely on it. She let out a squeak in her throat and threw her head back.
If her mouth felt good, her pussy felt like a transcendental experience for you. It was a mixture of overwhelming sensations, it felt wet, extremely soft, and extremely tight. You felt it throb around your shaft, producing tickling sensations that made you shudder. It would have felt better if it weren't for the fact that your cock felt like it was going to melt and you felt on the verge of throwing up and passing out.
Of course she wouldn't be nice to you at first, she started jumping on your cock with all the strength she had. You felt her ass bump against you so aggressively that you thought she was going to split you open. It felt wonderful, your cock sliding in and out of an unearthly pussy entirely, the non-existent friction making you moan with what little energy you had left. She dug her nails from each hand into your ribs, and you whimpered in pain. She didn't dig those blades deep, but enough to make you bleed there too.
"YES YES YES! IT FEELS DELICIOUS, YES!" she moaned between growls of pleasure, jumping on top of your cock again and again.
Your room was filled with violent sounds of flesh hitting flesh. You would have worried about the neighbors—not just your building, the entire street—but you were in the middle of a situation that you felt was close to literally killing you with pleasure. Her tight pussy wouldn't stop throbbing and working wonders on your cock. You also started to feel that her walls were feeling warmer than normal. Hot, not enough to cause burns, but hotter than a normal pussy could be.
Inevitably that led to you cumming again. You felt pleasure, and a lot. But you also felt pain, proportional to the amount of pleasure. A bittersweet feeling that made you want to cry. You shot much more cum into her, and felt her walls squeeze your shaft with the force of a hydraulic press.
"GIVE IT ALL TO ME, MGHHH!!!" distorted voice. This time she terrified you.
She had another orgasm while you filled her with thick liquid, but that didn't stop her. On the contrary, she looked even more excited. She didn't seem to look overstimulated, yet you were dying of pain.
"Stop it, please! It hurts a lot! STOP!!" you pleaded desperately, your jaw tense as well as your teeth. You closed your eyes, hoping that everything was just another horrible nightmare and that it would be over. This one didn't.
"SHUT UP, YOU PIECE OF SCUM, YOU'RE MINE!!" The distorted and terrifying voice not only echoed in your ears, but also the walls of your room. Just like that night.
In the blink of an eye she turned into a ball of shadow again, and in a matter of milliseconds she was now bouncing on your cock but with her back turned to you. Now you could see her beautiful ass bounce against your pubes and your cock continually appear and disappear between her butt cheeks. She knew it was going to turn you on. The bitch knew it, and that penetrated your bones with anger.
Her nails dug in again, but now in your calves. Same thing, you felt the burning of her tips digging in. You began to feel pleasure and the tingling in your lower abdomen again. You were close, but you also started to feel terribly bad, as if you had caught a sudden fever that made your body ache all over. Your head hurt too, and your eyes felt heavy. You were fainting.
"GIVE ME MORE!!" With that last evil scream from her you came.
The last thing you saw was your cum spilling between her folds and staining all over your cock. This time she did move slower, and the moment she got up from your cock, her second skin began to crawl with a life of its own to cover her entire body in black. Your cum stayed inside that bodysuit, and your vision went black.
The last thing you heard was that damn maniacal laugh.
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Spren Notes:
Well, this is certainly radically different than anything I've written before lol. I hope I did well and didn't embarrass myself.
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