#i feel like it should be said that the man can act well
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Little Deaths | a ghostly ot8 story
MDNI 🔞 this is an adult story!!!
La petite mort. ‘the little death' is an expression that refers to a brief loss or weakening of consciousness, and in modern usage refers specifically to a post-orgasm sensation as likened to death.
fem!reader x ghost!Skz
Your driver abandons you at a creepy mansion that turns out to be haunted by 8 cursed, horny ghosts. Their mission is your pleasure.
Word count: 6.8k
Content Warning below
CW: ot8 are ghosts, drugging/intoxication of reader, seduction?coercion?, sexual acts with ghosts, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m & f), vaginal and anal penetration, blow jobs, double pen in 2 holes, double pen one hole, restraints, rough sex, spitting, it's basically a gangbang, sub reader, there is a part where a cock alternates between readers vagina and anus - this is not recommended irl, choking, name calling, pet names. The sexual acts in this story are not meant to reflect how things work irl.
a/n: this story isn't a love story, like I often write here on this blog. It's basically self indulgent ot8 porn. It's my first oneshot that features all 8 members fully, and it was actually so hard to write. I considered posting this story on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark where I write my unhinged shit, but it took so much energy and thought, that I wanted to keep it over here with my other oneshots of similar length.
I hope you enjoy this oneshot. If you do, please let me know your favourite part, and consider a reblog. x. Sorsha.
“Ma’m, I think we need to stop the car, this weather is just making it too hard to see.” your driver called over his shoulder. The rain outside was falling harder than ever, and with it being the dead of night, and on a windy deserted road, you knew he was right. It wasn’t safe.
“But where on earth do we stop?” You replied, trying to see out of the window.
“I think I’ve taken a wrong turn.” He said in a shaky voice. “But… I think I’ve found somewhere we can pull over.”
You leaned around to look between the two front seats of the car, and could just make out the shape of a mansion ahead of you. Your driver pulled the car to a stop in front of the dwelling. “Should we go knock on the door?” You wondered, but your driver was getting out of the car and pulled out your suitcase.
“I think so. I could barely see the road.” He insisted.
You let out a big sigh and climbed out of the car. From what you could tell, the mansion was enormous, and very old.
Stepping up to the front door you saw there was no doorbell. Just a big brass knocker. “You know,” you turn to your driver who plonked down your suitcase beside your feet. “This feels a lot like that Backstreet Boys music video. The one with a haunted mansion.” You gripped the knocker in your hand and knocked three times and waited. “You know, Backstreets Bac-“ You turned to your driver but he was running back to the car, jumping back in and driving away. The fucker!
“Hey!” You yelled after him, but he was gone.
The big front door creaked open, capturing your attention. A young man with fluffy long blonde hair peeked his head around the door.
“Oh my goodness!” You wailed. “I…it was raining…and…well…my driver…he’s just left me here.”
The young man looked at you curiously. “Come in out of the cold.” He smiled warmly. He immediately put you at ease.
“My name’s Felix.” He said picking up your suitcase.
“Y/n.” You replied following him into the mansion. It was quite dark, but you could make out that you were in a large entry hall, with a grand staircase in the centre.
“You will need to stay the night.” he stated. “I’ll take you to your room.”
“Stay the night?” You turned to him. “But I just need to make a phone call, have someone come collect me.”
Felix shook his head. We haven’t any mobile reception, and the landline is down. Due to the storm.”
You frowned.
“Plus,” he began as he started up the stairs. “No one should be driving in this weather.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. He was right. You followed Felix up the winding staircase and along a dimly lit hall. The place was creepy. It felt deserted and cold. Such a contrast from the man leading you to your room. Felix seemed so warm, like sunshine. Why would someone like him live here?
“Here we are.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “You will be staying here. I’ll bring you up some supper and a cup of hot…chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate.” he rambled. “Please-” he gestured for you to enter the room and placed your suitcase on the floor beside you.
“Feli-?” you turned to the blond man, but he was gone. Weird. “Felix?” you called and popped your head back out into the hallway. But he had completely disappeared. Vanished into thin air.
Despite the cold emptiness of the mansion, your room was stunning. Even if it did look like it came out of a haunted house movie. It had Victorian gothic themed decor, with a huge bed that had four thick posts, and the bedhead itself was a feature piece. It came almost up to the high ceiling. Dim lamps around the walls illuminated the room. The entire space was grand and of another time.
“I suppose I could spend the night here.” you patted the bed. The bedding seemed freshly cleaned, and you noticed there was no dust on anything. It was like whoever lived here was expecting a guest. Was Felix the only one here? You wondered as you opened your suitcase and pulled out your silk nightie.
Your sleepwear seemed far too vulnerable and sexy for such a room and as you climbed into the giant bed, you had thoughts of some beast coming and ruining you in your sleep. Maybe you’d need to stay awake just to be safe?
Knock knock.
You pulled your knees to your chest, and your heart began to pound. Someone’s come to rape you and murder you. Your mind had really spiraled over the past ten minutes.
“Y/n? It’s Felix. I’ve brought you some food and a a-drink.”
You scampered over to the door. “Fel-” you started. But again no one was there. How was he so quick?
On the floor at your feet was a tray with a slice of cake and a big mug of hot chocolate. You took the tray back to your bed. You were hungrier than you thought, practically inhaling the cake within a minute.
You turned your attention to the hot drink, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. It was delicious. Rich, creamy, with a hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. You took another sip, allowing the warmth to wash over you. By the time you had drunk the last of it, you were feeling floaty and fuzzy, almost like you were drunk.
All thoughts about your safety left you as you snuggled down and fell asleep.
Your core ached as you felt your body buzz and swirl. Sensations of cool hands all over your body, caressing your legs, and your breasts, making you moan. More. You needed more. Whatever this was, you had to have more or you’d die. Your body felt hot, like it was on fire, and you needed the relief of the coolness that was caressing you.
The sensation moved up your inner thigh, while elsewhere on your body it wrapped around your neck. More across your stomach and breasts. It reached the top of your inner thigh and, ‘oh god yes, touch me there’, slipped inside of you. You felt like you were writhing on the bed, back arching off the mattress. But then it seemed you couldn’t move at all. It was like you were being held down. You tried to cry out, the pleasure becoming unbearable, but your mouth was filled with the same coldness that was inside your pussy. Again, your body cried ‘More’. You needed more. The cool sensation then filled you deeper and deeper and stretched you open, fuller, wider than ever before. Your throat felt full too, and you were certain you were going to choke. Your dreamy vision blurred further until you were seeing white, and the tension in your body reached breaking point. A surge of cold energy filled you and your core burst with a relief like you’d never experienced in your entire life. Your walls squeezed and pulsed around the coldness inside of you.
Your eyes flung open. Your chest was heaving. Your body was hot. Your cunt still fluttering. Fuck. That was some dream. You ran your hands over your body, down between your legs. Your panties! They were gone. You sat up abruptly, your eyes darting around to locate your missing underwear. There they were, at the far corner of the bed. Torn. What the actual fuck?
“You did that to yourself, you know.” a voice said from the corner of the room.
“Huh?” your eyes shot to a man sitting in the shadows in the corner.
“We didn’t touch you.” he added.
You were confused. “We?” you arched an eyebrow, trying to calm your racing heart.
The man disappeared, startling you, then reappeared sitting on the edge of the mattress.
You pulled your knees into your chest. “How the fuck did you do that? Who are you? What are you? How’d you just do that?” you cried shrilly.
The man smiled, his dimpled cheeks and kind eyes making him appear non-threatening. But that didn’t mean he wasn't a psycho killer. A magic psycho killer.
“Here, have another hot chocolate.” he passed you a mug.
The hot chocolate. You scowled at the man. “You drugged me!” you hissed.
The man shrugged. “It’s an ancient remedy. We needed to know if you were compatible with us.”
“Compatible? Compatible for what? What do you mean, ‘us’? You and Felix? What does this drink do?”
“Shh..babygirl. It’s okay.” he hushed you. “The drink merely relaxes you and unlocks what you crave most. I promise it wears off within twelve hours. The drink you had earlier was only one eighth the strength of this one here.” he pointed to the drink in your hands.
You brought the drink to your nose and inhaled. It smelled irresistible, and you resisted the strong compulsion to drink it down. “But why do you want me to drink more? Couldn’t you tell if I was compatible or not from…”
“You are compatible. It was clear the moment you called for us.” He said simply.
Your eyes widened. “Called for you? But I don’t even know you.” you whispered.
“The coldness you felt.” he leaned closer. “On your body. Inside your body. That was us. You could feel us even though we hadn’t touched you.”
You held your breath.
“We could feel you too. We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness. It wrapped around us.” he whispered.
You whimpered. He, they, could feel you? You bit your lip. “So why drink more?” you arched an eyebrow. “If you know I’m compatible with…whatever this is.”
“Because what I’m about to tell you might be,” he sucked in a breath. “Overwhelming.”
You locked eyes with this stranger and carefully took a big gulp of the hot chocolate. You immediately felt a sense of warmth flow through your body and pooling in your core.
“You see, y/n, we’re ghosts.”
You just stared at him. “What?” you laughed. “Just ‘cos you did some magic disappear-reappear thing before, I don’t believe in-”
The man in front of you turned translucent. Fuck. Your mouth fell open. You could still see him, but his colours were muted, and he wasn’t….solid.
“You’re a fucking ghost?” you choked. This wasn’t happening. Surely the drink has some kind of hallucinogen?
“Y/n, allow me to introduce you to my brothers.” he gestured for you to look around the room. Gradually, seven young, translucent, men emerged from the shadows.
“Holy shit!” you whispered and swallowed hard.
“My name is Chan.” the dimpled mad said. “And here we have Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung.” he pointed to three of the men who waved at you. ‘And over there we have Suengmin, Jeongin, Minho, and you’ve already met Felix.”
“Sorry I drugged you.” Felix blushed and lowered his gaze.
“May we come sit on the bed?” the one named Hyunjin asked. “We won’t touch you unless you ask.” he added.
Why did that something to your insides?
You nodded and the ghost men gathered around and hopped on the bed. That’s when you noticed they were all quite young and very handsome. And they were all wearing the same thing. A gold and black silk bathrobe.
The words of Chan resounded in your head. “You called to us”, “We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness.”
You pulled the blanket up higher and stared at your drink, considering whether or not to drink more if it was going to help you relax.
“W-what did you do when I called to you?” you asked in a small voice.
“We came straight away.” Another man said. Seungmin, you think.
“We watched you, kitten.” Minho smirked.
“You were so receptive.” Changbin added.
“Your body begged us to fill you, squeeze you. Fuck you.” Hyunjin said silkily.
“But you didn’t… touch me, right?”
“No, babygirl. Like I said, your body showed us what you craved most. We didn’t touch you. I promise. But we could feel you.”
“But why do I crave you?” you were confused as to how this could even be happening.
“We think it’s part of the curse.” The chubby cheeked boy, Jisung, said. “Every so often a woman will stumble upon our mansion. We give them a drink,” he nodded to the cup in your hand, “to see if they’re compatible. Sometimes they just sleep soundly.”
“Those ones aren’t compatible.” Seungmin chimes in.
“And some, like you, are receptive.” Jisung continued.
“Compatible.” Added Minho.
You looked around the room. So you craved these… ghosts? Sexually? Was this a trick? You thought about your dream and how incredible it felt to be consumed by whatever it was that was touching you. Would it feel like that?
“What happens when you find a compatible woman?” You were almost afraid to ask.
“We have to pleasure her.” Chan said flatly.
Your eyes flicked to his.
“And what happens if you don’t?”
“We get tortured.”
Your eyes widen. “Tortured? Why? By who?”
“I think we need to tell her the whole story.” Said Jeongin.
Chan rubbed his chin. “Hmm, you’re right.” He took a moment before he spoke.
“Y/n. When we were alive we were… a harem. Or reverse harem, I suppose. We had our Mistress whom we served… sexually. She wasn’t right, in the head. She went mad. She didn’t want us to age, to get older. So she hired a witch who was meant to concoct a spell that would keep us young for eternity. The spell was not only to keep us youthful either, but also bind us,” he looked around at the other men. “To be sex slaves forever.”
“But it went wrong.” Exclaimed Jisung. “It killed us. Now we’re young, dead, sex slaves forever.” He looked down at the bedspread.
The mood in the room suddenly dropped and you could tell all the men were in a moment of reflection.
“So,” you started slowly. “When a woman comes along who subconsciously requires your… services… then you are bound to fulfill her needs?”
They all nodded.
“Our bodies naturally respond. It’s intoxicating.” Hyunjin said softly. “All of us are aching for you.” His hand reached out and touched your arm. Cold. Cold just like the sensation in your dream.
“What if I say no? What happens?”
“We won’t touch you.” Chan states.
“But we’d be in pain until the next compatible woman comes along.” Said Felix.
“The urge and desire won’t dissipate until we have found another compatible woman.” added Seungmin.
You considered everything they just told you. It was wild. It was far-fetched, and absolutely unbelievable. But here you were. On a bed with a room full of ghosts. Ghosts that were horny for you. You should say no. But you couldn’t. It seemed you were horny for them too.
They were alluring. Tempting. Could they make you feel the way you did in your dream? They weren’t even touching you then, supposedly, and you wondered what it’d feel like to have them really do those things to you, and more.
You took the cup to your mouth. “What happens if I drink this stronger version?” You looked at Felix.
“It will relax you. But more importantly it shows us what your body truly needs to be sated, and who want to do it to you.” Said Changbin.
“There’s no hiding if you drink that. You won’t be able to hold back.” Minho smirked.
“And everything will feel more intense.” Added Jeongin.
“Babygirl.” Chan gripped your arm. ���You need to give us your permission. Will you let us pleasure you… fuck you until you can’t take any more?”
You bit your lip. “Yes.” you whispered, and gulped the entire drink down.
“That’s it, baby.” Clapped Jisung.
“I knew from how hard she came earlier that she’d be up for this.” Seungmin added.
“She’s just drank the whole thing. Chan, that was full strength.” Felix was horrified.
“Means she’ll be pliable, we can do anything.” Seungmin said slyly.
“Well, anything she wants.” Corrected Changbin..
“She’ll want us to do absolutely everything. I can tell. This one’s a fucking freak.” Said Minho.
You immediately became lightheaded. And hot. So fucking hot. You threw the blanket off and started clawing at your skimpy nightie. “Hot!” you cried. “So hot.”
Ice cold hands came to your body, ripping the garment from you, leaving you naked, on fire, your skin burning. “Please!” you cried, searching for the cool relief of those hands.
A hand wrapped around your leg, dragging you into the middle of the mattress. More hands started to explore your body. Firm, freezing, so relieving against your scorching skin.
You opened your eyes to find that all eight ghosts were surrounding you on the bed. But they weren’t translucent anymore. They appeared as real as living men. “Touch me.” you sobbed as your eyes darted around to each of them.
“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Whispered Jisung.
You didn’t know whose hands were who’s, but there were so many on your body. So cooling to the skin. A hand cupped a breast, while another pinched your other nipple. Your legs were spread wide and a frozen cold tongue pressed against your pussy.
“Fuck!” you cried out and looked down to find Jisung sucking on your clit. “Fuck! Feels so good.” you panted.
“How does she taste, brother?” someone asked.
“Like pussy.” he groaned. “I fucking missed this taste.”
While your eyes had rolled back into your head from the intensity of what was happening, you felt your arms being pulled above your head, and soft velvet ropes were tied around your wrists. You looked up behind you to see Minho tying the other ends of the ropes to the headposts. “Kitten likes to be tied up.” he winked at you.
Meanwhile, Jisung had peeled himself away from between your legs and Hyunjin was kneeling between them, gazing at your pussy. Just the way he was looking at you and licking his lips made your cunt gush. He noticed and swiped his finger over your dripping arousal, then took his finger to his lips. He proceeded to wink at you, slip off his robe. With the most deranged look you’d ever seen on a man, he lifted your hips to line your entrance up with his cock, and slammed you onto him. His cock felt like a hard block of ice. Thick, hard, rigid. But so relieving inside your searing heat.
He was so strong, he wasn’t even thrusting. He was simply making you fuck him. The binds on your arms were pulled taut every time you were fully impaled on him.
“So pliable.” Jeongin said as he leaned down to suck one of your nipples.
“Like a fucking ragdoll.’ Seungmin mused. “Look how her eyes roll back every time he fucks into her.”
It was so hard to focus on where everyone was and what they were doing. All you knew is that you needed them to touch you. You needed Hyunjin to keep doing whatever he was doing. He felt so long, so deep, and after a while the sharp coldness eased off and his cock started to feel more warm. More alive. You weren’t sure whether your body was warming him up, or if he was cooling you down.
Your core tightened, your orgasm was approaching fast. As if on cue, a finger landed on your clit, and rubbed hard, rough circles on it.
“Please…please…I’m gonna…I…I…so close..” you cried and babbled.
Hyunjin thrust you onto you harder, digging his fingers into your flesh, and the fingers on your clit became more forceful.
“It’s okay, Hyunin’s gonna make you cum.” Chan cooed.
A sudden powerful surge of cold energy exploded inside your cunt, causing your walls to automatically contract around it. “Holy fucking shit!” you panted. “I’m…fuck!!!” your walls clenched tighter than they ever had before, and you were coming so hard you thought your body had split apart. It felt as though your entire pelvic region was pulsing around Hyunjin’s cock. It lasted so long, maybe an entire minute, and by the time you came down, you were sobbing. Hyunjin leaned over and took you in a deep kiss before slipping out.
“No! No!” you cried out. You were too empty now. Your body relaxed into the bed when a few sets of lips soothed you through kisses to your body. “More.” you whispered softly.
“Shh. You’re gonna be plenty filled tonight, baby.” Jisung whispered in your ear, before he hooked his hands under your arms and dragged you so your head hung off the edge of the mattress. He opened his robe to reveal his delicious cock, and you immediately opened your mouth for him. He smirked as he pushed his cock into your warm, wet mouth. He too was was ice cold, but you noticed he began to warm up quickly.
“Baby likes to choke on big cocks, huh?” he snarled. “I never expected such a perfect little lady to turn up on our doorstep tonight.” he pushed himself all the way into the back of your throat. You couldn’t breathe. But you didn’t care. Right now being filled with cock was more important to your survival than air.
“Fuck. You can see it pressing into her throat.” Jeongin hissed. He was setting himself up to fuck you now.
“If you put your hand on her neck, you can feel it.” Jisung said excitedly.
Jeongin reached up and pressed his hand to your neck, squeezing your throat and making Jisung feel so much bigger. He pulled out to let you catch your breath, and then he was stretching your throat out again.
Jeongin twisted your lower half so you were on your side from your waist down. He straddled your bottom leg, pinning it into position, whilst lifting your upper leg to rest on his shoulder. He pressed his hips, pushing his cock into you, and immediately started fucking you fast. He was hitting you so deep that you were certain he was pushing your cervix deeper and deeper into your body, and the way Jisung seemed to be pushing deeper and deeper into your throat, you thought they would eventually meet up in the middle.
Your hands were guided to wrap around two rock hard, ice cold cocks. You had no clue who they belonged to. You didn’t care. All these ghost men were fuckable. You wanted to touch and feel every single one of them.
“Grrr…I’m fucking coming.” cried Jeongin.
“Let’s cum in her at the same time.” Said Jisung.
Then you felt it. The same as with Hyunjin. The cold surge of energy, filling you up from both ends. Your back arched off the bed as you came again. Your hands squeezed around the cocks you were holding. Cries and hisses rang out around the room at the sight before them.
“Good girl. So fucking good.” Purred Jisung as he eased his cock from your mouth.
“Noooo!” You cried. He leaned down and kissed you. Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good later. I already know what you’re gonna want me to do.” He winked.
Jeongin was gone too. The dicks in your hands also gone, and you whimpered at so much loss. You didn’t have time to cry for too long when you were suddenly dragged by your feet further onto the bed and flung into your stomach. “You’re such a filthy little slut, pup.” Seungmin laid against you, whispering nasty words in your ear. He’d grasped your arms, holding them both behind your back with one hand. Your hair was plastered on your cheek, and he spat on it before pushing your face against the mattress below.
“Please-” you choked.
“Oh, my slutty little pup. I know exactly what you want. But I wanna hear you say it for the whole class to hear.”
How does he know? You wondered to yourself in your delirious state. Seungmin pressed the length of his hardness against your ass.
“Please…fill my ass.” You sobbed. A collective hum spread around the room at your admission.
“That’s right.” Seungmin pressed his tip against your rim. You still weren’t used to how cold their cocks were to begin with. “Such a slut wanting me to put it in without loosening you up first.” He spat on the side of your face again, his saliva sticking in your hair. You needed him to hurry. You needed him to fill you. You were so fucking empty.
Seungmin’s cock breached your rim as he pressed his body further on top of you. The stretch felt overwhelmingly satisfying, while the coolness of his cock soothed the sting. The feeling of being trapped beneath him, arms held tight behind you, the feeling of helplessness intensified your need for him to penetrate you.
Finally, his hips met the curve of your ass cheeks. “Such a tight little hole. He grunted as he started to grind against you. “Not sure how tight it’ll be by morning.” He whispered low in your ear. He started with a slow, steady pace, allowing your body to warm his cock. “Harder…harder.” You mumbled into the mattress.
Seungmin growled and fucked into you, pressing your face further into the mattress. It felt like he was fucking you forever, yet not long enough. You were mumbling and dribbling all over the bed. Then, the familiar feeling of what seemed to be their orgasms, filled you once again, making you come hard. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you were already desperate to have someone fill it again.
It was as though Minho read your mind, and as soon as Seungmin dislodged himself from your ass, he was dragging you to the otherside of the bed. He stood on the floor and pressed your legs up into a mating press position and drank you in with hungry eyes. “I love watching my cock sink into a pussy.” He said. “Watch with me.”
You looked down just in time to see his cock push inside of you. “Kittie’s hungry.” He smirked as you sucked in his entire cock, and glanced up at you. “Does it feel good?” He asked.
You nodded fervently. “Yes! So good.” You squeaked. He cocked an eyebrow. “What about your ass?” He pulled out of your cunt and pushed fully into into your ass.
“Fuck! So deep. So fucking deep.” You cried. This position allowed Minho to reach the deepest part of you. He fit your cunt so well, but, oh fuck, he felt incredible in your ass too. You wanted him to fuck both hol-
“You really are filthy.” Minho said disbelief. He pulled out of your ass and plunged back into your pussy.
You knew, you really knew, that this wasn’t a good idea, but you wanted him to do it so fucking bad. And he knew! He knew what you wanted. They all seemed to know. You didn’t have to say a word and they knew all the filthy things you craved.
You glanced around you to see some of the others had gathered around to watch Minho fuck your pussy, then your ass, then back to your pussy, while he held you still on the bed.
“Look how her holes stay open waiting for him to put it back in again.” Felix said mesmerised.
Despite your delirium, you had an idea. You wanted someone to finger fuck you when Minho was in your ass. He pulled out of your cunt once more and as he pushed back into your now gaping asshole, Changbin slipped two fingers into your pussy.
“That’s it, Bunny. Binnie’s fingers stretch you good don’t they?” He purred.
Your hands flailed around looking for cocks to jerk off, relieved to find Felix and Jeongin in your hands. “My mouth! Need someone in my mouth.” You whimpered.
“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Cooed Jisung again. “Chan, you should fill her mouth. She’s begging you.”
“Yeah Channie, you haven’t felt her. She’s fucking incredible.” Seungmin encouraged.
Yes. You wanted Chan in your mouth. “Please.” You were crying because you wanted it so bad. Chan straddled your chest and pressed the tip of his cock against your lip. “Open wide, babygirl. Daddy needs to make you choke.”
Your eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed his cock into your mouth. “That’s it. Suck on it.” He pushed deeper.
Minho picked up his pace, slamming into your ass at an alarming pace, and Changbin was digging into your g-spot aggressively. You were feeling so used, but at the same time so special.
“Changbin’s got four fingers in you, baby. You should see your pretty little holes.” Jisung panted as he fucked into his own hand.
Chan gripped your hair and started to fuck your throat at the same rhythm as Minho was fucking your ass. You didn’t know why taking their cocks down your throat was so incredibly arousing, but it was. You couldn’t get enough. It was almost like you didn’t need to breathe when they were in your mouth, and you wondered if it was some weird ghost magic.
You were pinned down and held still as they forced another orgasm out of you. How much more could your body take? You hadn’t even fucked all of them yet. You started to feel drowsy and your eyes fluttered closed. Chan withdrew his cock from your mouth, and some saliva dribbled down your chin.
“Babygirl.” He stroked your cheek. “Are you okay? You need to wake up for us. You still need more to be sated.”
Minho and Changbin pulled out of you too and came up to check on you.
“We can’t keep doing this if you’re asleep, pretty lady.” Felix stroked your hair and gazed down at you.
You opened your eyes and grinned with a fucked out expression. “Why am I empty?” You whispered.
“Atta girl.” Chan slapped your face, pulling you out of your sleepy moment, and just like that you were ready for more.
“Come ride me, bunny.” Changbin coaxed you over by gripping his cock and pumping it a few times. You licked your lips and crawled towards him, and a few hard slaps landed on your ass as you did so.
Changbin had a thick cock. Maybe the thickest you’d ever seen. You threw a leg over him and reached down to line his cock up with your entrance. You both sighed in relief as you slid effortlessly onto his thickness and immediately began to roll your hips. “Fuck, yeah, bunny. Still so tight, even after we’ve fucked you open.”
You grinned down at him as you found a rhythm with him rolling his hips up into you in the most delicious way. “Kiss me.” he sighed, and pulled you down on top of him and captured you in a deep kiss. You melted against him, as he cupped your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. You panted into Chanbgin’s mouth. “You want Felix at the same time?” he whispered. You nodded.
Like clockwork, you felt the mattress dip behind you. “It’s okay, love. Lixi’s gonna help keep you feeling full.” he positioned himself behind you and lined himself up with your ass.
Although your ass had been stretched by two cocks already, Felix was met with some resistance due to Changbin already filling you up so good. But Felix persevered, pressing and pushing until he was fully seated inside of you.
A few of the other men gasped at the sight of seeing you filled like this.
“Felix,” said Changbin. “You know what she wants us to do. Are you ready to give it to her?” Felix grabbed hold of your hips, pressing his fingers into you hard, and began to fuck you with hard, sharp thrusts. He snapped his hips quickly, forcing you to cry out in choked sobs. At the same time, Changbin gently rolled his hips up into you. The difference in technique and pace was driving you insane. The feeling of both your holes stretched like this was overwhelming. They were going to break you into pieces. You were sure of it. You were crying and sobbing, eventually collapsing onto Changbin and letting them fuck you dumb. Drool was dribbling out of your mouth onto Changbin’s shoulder, and you felt like you were losing your sense of consciousness.
“P-please…please…ruin me…fuck me…feels s’good…so deep… full.” You babbled.
“She’s so dumb from cock. Look at her. Eyes unfocused. Drooling.” Minho observed.
“Her cunt is gushing around Binnie too. You all know what she wants next, don’t you?” Jisung winked at Chan.
“C’mon fellas. Fuck her harder. She’ll fall asleep if you’re too gentle.” Minho snickered.
Both Changbin and Felix doubled down, both finding a matching rhythm, and slamming into your holes. Even though you knew what to expect from theirs orgasms, it still hit you hard, taking you over the edge with them. The three of you were a trembling mess by the time they pulled out of you.
“Pup, show us your pretty used holes.” Seungmin requested. You happily obliged by leaning your head into the bed, ass in the air, and spreading your cheeks with your shaky hands.
Whines, whimpers, sighs, and mumbled “fucks” filled the room as they all gazed hungrily at your sloppy, used holes. “Fuck, I wish I could ejaculate. I’d cum all over that ass.” sighed Hyunjin.
“I’d fucking cum in there and watch it ooze out.” added Minho.
“Babygirl.” Chan had laid himself on his back, leaning against the pillows. “My turn to feel your pussy. I’m out of patience.”
You sauntered over to him, and kissed him. “Turn around, babygirl. Show ‘em how you ride reverse.” You straddled him, reverse cowgirl, and swallowed up his cock whole. Chan’s cock was ice cold like the rest of the men, but he was much, much bigger. He stretched you out like you were made for him. “That’s it. There you go. There you go.” he cooed once you planted your feet into the mattress and used your legs as leverage to bounce yourself up and down his length.
All eyes were on your hole swallowing Chan’s cock, and then sliding up to reveal just how wet and slippery you were. Hyunjin was lying on his stomach watching everything curiously. A few of the others were pumping their still hard cocks. You even noticed a couple of the men were translucent again.
You eyes landed on the one man you hadn’t fucked yet. Jisung. He looked at your pussy desperately, like he was in pain. He needed you. He looked up, locking eyes with you, and in an instant, he crawled over to you. “Hey baby. You ready for me?” he grinned.
“I am.” you whimpered.
“Okay, lean back on me…that’s it.” instructed Chan. “Let’s push your legs up. Good girl. That’s it. Make room for Jisung.”
Jisung kneeled in front of you and rubbed his cock against your clit. “Please.” you plead. You watched as Jisung pushed against your entrance, beside Chan, and when the tip slipped in you cried out. “Fuck.” you squeaked. “It’s so…fuck…the stretch…it’s” your hands gripped onto Jisung’s arms to hold yourself in place as Jisung pushed further into your cunt.
Jisung’s cock was cold, where Chan’s had warmed up and the difference in temperature allowed you to feel the two distinct penises that were inside you.
“I’m gonna push all the way in now, baby.” Jisung pushed his hips hard, and with your pussy so wet, it gave way just enough for the rest to slip in.
“Fuck, it’s so tight.” Jisung’s eyes squeezed closed.
“Full…S’full.” You groaned.
“Stuffed full of cock.” Seungmin admired.
The other men had gathered around and watched in awe as they watched your pussy being fucked by two cocks at once. Chan continued to hold your legs up out of the way while he fucked you from below. Han leaned over you as he snapped his hips as vigorously as your cunt would allow.
‘’Open.” demanded jisung. You opened your mouth for him and he spat into it before crashing his mouth onto yours. Apparently ghosts don’t ejaculate, but oddly enough they have saliva.
“This what you wanted, babygirl?” Chan nibbled your neck. You answered with a whimper.
“You love being stretched like this. Filled so deep with cock?” Jisung said, panting. “You don’t have to say anything. We already know. We know how after this you want us to all take turns double penetrating you.”
You moaned in agreement.
“One in the pussy…one in the ass. Or two in your tight cunt like right now.” Jisung pressed his mouth against your ear. “Maybe even two in the ass?” he whispered. “Maybe we should get everyone to pair up ready?”
You yelped, and clenched tighter around the two men.
“She likes that idea.” Chan chuckled.
“Well it’s her idea, remember? We’re the sex slaves.” Jisung grunted as he pushed in as deep as possible.
“Good thing our erections last so long. Our pretty Babygirl is so needy. Lucky we're here to take care of her.”
Your body felt floppy, like they could bend you and stretch you however they wanted, and your body would accommodate. All of your attention was focused on the sensation in your core. You felt so full. Their cocks reaching deep inside you. What state would it be in when they’re finished? You didn’t care because after this you wanted them to do it all again.
Jisung changed his angle to concentrate on your g-spot, causing your body to start shaking. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. You were a helpless, sobbing mess, needing to come, but not wanting to yet.
Minho and Felix moved closer, one on either side of you, and took hold of your trembling legs, freeing up Chan’s hands.
Subconsciously, your hands found their cocks and you started to jerk them off.
“You gonna come with us, babygirl? I can feel you’re so close.” Chan encouraged as he wrapped a hand around your neck to choke you.
Jisung sat back on his knees and began to rub your clit as he and Chan continued to abuse your pussy with hard, relentless thrusts.
You threw your head back, wanting to cry out, but with Chan’s hand squeezing you, it turned into a gurgling sound. Hands groped at your tits, most likely Minho and Felix while they held your legs. You felt the tip of a cock on your cheek, and Chan turned your head so you could open up for Changbin.
You couldn’t hold on any longer.
“That’s it, babygirl… let go.” Chan whispered.
“Come for us.” Hyunjin said. Words of encouragement resonated around the room.
The tension inside you snapped, setting off your orgasm. Your cunt clamped down, causing Chan and Jisung to come too, moaning and cursing under their breaths. The force of both of their cold energies extended your orgasm, thrusting you into a new realm of pleasure. It had you pulsing, squeezing, shaking, and then squirting all over their cocks.
“Fuck, she squirted so much! Like a fucking faucet.” Someone growled.
Changbin came in your mouth, and with Chan still choking you, it heightened the feeling of your orgasm and you squirted a second time.
“Good fucking girl.” Purred Chan as he continued to roll his hips into you.
“She’s the most compatible we’ve ever seen.” Noted Jeongin.
“We’re gonna pull out now, baby.” Jisung stroked your cheek. You grasped his arm and shook your head.
“No! Need more!” You sobbed.
“I thought she was meant to be satisfied by now.” Said Hyunjin, confused.
“It’s like the more we give her, the more she needs.” Observed Felix.
“We have to keep going until she’s satisfied.” Confirmed Minho.
“What a fucking shame.” Sneered Seungmin as he approached the bed and pulled Jisung out of your cunt and lined himself up.
——-
A/n: I have similarly unhinged oneshots and drabbles that you may enjoy on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark .
General Taglist is open for both blogs.
——-
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itshannjisung @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @sunshinesquokka @enjaken @queenmea604 @lyramundana @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @jehhskz @vanillacupcakefrosting
#skz smut#skz x reader#skz ot8#han jisung smut#skz oneshot#bang chan smut#felix smut#seungmin smut#jeongin smut#lee know smut#chan x reader#han jisung x reader#changbin x reader#seungmin x reader#lee know x y/n#lee know x reader#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#felix x reader
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HAPPY LESBIAN VISIBILITY WEEK BITCHES!! i bring you angst.
——
Redemption
Chaggie x Emilute
——
“But she was right, Sera,” Emily sang, hopodiah up the paper, “she showed us a soul can improve, he saw the light Sera,” she flew up, “checked all the boxes the you said would..” Emily continued and Lute felt guilt coming up in the pit of her stomach.
“It’s not fair, Sera,” Charlie jumped in, a mix of determination and anger spread on her face.
“Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head,” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
“No!” Charlie pushed her hand off and walked forward, “don’t you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn’t mean they can’t resolve to change their ways! Turn their backs, escape infernal blaze!”
“I really wish it could be so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”
Lute knows she’s gonna retreat this, but she chimes in as well, “what are we even talking about, some crack whore who fucked up already?!” Lute avoided Emily’s eyes, “he blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth this discussion is sensless and petty!”
Adams jumps up and the two start singing, “there’s no question to be posed, he’s unholy case closed, did you forget that hell is forever?!”
Adam smirks, “a man only lives once, we’ll see you in one month!” He steps closer to Charlie, “gotta say I can’t wait to..”
“Adam..” Lute mumbles under her breath.
“Come down an exterminate you!”
“Wait!” Emily flies down.
“Shit..” Lute looks away.
“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily was furious.
“You didn’t know?” Charlie tilts her head.
Lute takes a deep breath, “guess the cats out of the bag,” she puts on a fake smile.
“What’s the big deal?” Adam smirks.
“Sera,” Emily looks at Sera with pleading eyes, “tell me that you didn’t know.”
Sera flew down there, “I thought since I’m older, it’s my load to shoulder!
“No..”
“You have to listen, it was such a hard decision!” Sera reached her hands out but Emily pulled away, “I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to do what was required!”
Emily clenches her fists and starts flying, “to think that I admired you, well I don’t need your condescension, I’m not a child to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you’re proveying?” Emily flies down to Charlie.
Charlie nods, “that’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!”
They grabbed each other hands, “if hell is forever then heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey if you don’t do as they say, when you make the retched suffer just to kill them again!”
“I was told not trust in angels,” Charlie gave Vaggie a soft look and she gave the princess a look of guilt.
“By her?” Adam smirks.
Lute knew she was in deep shit so she just doesn’t care anymore, “ha! She should go,” she smirks and places an arm on Vaggie.
Vaggie pushes her off and walked closer to her girlfriend, “we should go-”
“No!” Charlie grabbed her hands, “don’t you see we’ve come so close? Look at them fighting, they’re at each others throats!”
“Don’t you act all high and mighty,” Lute and Adam circled Vaggie, “did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?” Adam smirked.
“Adam, don’t, please..”
“What’s the fuss?” Adam walked closer to her, “why hide the fact that you’re an angel just like us?” Lute pulled on Vaggie and made her face Charlie with a smirk.
Charlie had a look of anger, confusion, and terror in her eyes as she fell to her knees. Her hands were in her face as she starts crying and Vaggie runs to her, wrapping her arms around her.
——
The portal closes as soon as Charlie and Vaggie are back in hell. Vaggies heart is beating and Charlie’s eyes are red and puffy from crying. A lot was revealed today, and neither of them know how to feel.
“Charlie-” before Vaggie can even get a chance to speak, Charlie walks out of their room. She groans and plops down on the bed, her face in the pillows.
There was a knock on the door, “go away!” Vaggies voice was muffled because of the pillows.
Despite what she had said, Angel barged in. “Hey, so Charlie just ran out of the hotel with her horns and tail out. Mind telling me what happened?” Charlie usually only has her demon form out when she’s really stressed or emotional.
“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk.” Vaggie mumbles into the pillows.
“Talkin’ about it will make ya feel better, toots,” Angel sits on the bed.
Vaggie sighs and rolls on her back, looking up at Angel. She knew he wasn’t gonna give up. “So, let’s just say a lot happened at the meeting,” she sighs and he gave her a look that tells her to continue, “well, apparently no one but the head seraphim and the exorcists knew about the exterminations.”
“Oh?” Angel crosses his arms.
“And we used you as an example, but they still believe that no soul can be redeemed,” Vaggie rolls her eyes. She left out the one part that Angel deserves to know, and Angel picked up on that.
“Is that all?” He tilts his head.
Vaggie takes a deep breath and stands up from the bed, looking out if the window. “No, there’s..” she turns to look at him, “there’s something else that I need to say,” she sighs and Angel nods, “it was revealed that..I used to be an exorcist angel.”
——
Emily’s in her room, her head pounding and her heart racing. There was so much that was impacted in that meeting and she doesn’t know how to handle it all.
There was a knock, “come in,” her voice was soft and the door opened and shut. Her back was facing the door and she was sitting on her bed so she couldn’t see who walked in, but she didn’t need to see. She just knew who it was because it’s the same person who comes to see her after every meeting.
Lute takes a deep breath, “Em, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Emily stands up and turns to face Lute.
“Please-”
“No! You’ve kept something from me you knew that I deserved to know! These exterminations have been happening for god knows how long, and you didn’t tell me!” Emily snaps, “those souls, human souls..they don’t deserve that, demon or not!”
“If you understood-”
“What I don’t understand is-” Emily sighs, “what I don’t understand is how you could keep something like this from someone you fell in love with.”
“Emily, please-” Emily ignores Lute and flies out her window.
Lute clenches her fists and throws her helmet on the ground.
——
Charlie returns to the hotel. Her hair was a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes. Vaggie looks over, she was sitting on the couch with Angel.
Charlie yawns as she drags her feet to the bar, ignoring Vaggie and Angel. She isn’t one to drink, but she really needs this.
Husk raises an eyebrow as he makes her a drink, something light since she isn’t really used to it, and hands it to her, “you look like shit.”
Charlie groans, “you have no idea,” she takes a sip of her drink and makes a weird face, shaking her head.
“I heard..what happened,” Husk sighs, “do you wanna talk about it?”
“Depends..is she here?” Charlie asked.
Husk shakes his head, “Angel took her out..she looked like she needed a break.”
Charlie scoffs, “she needs a break? As if she didn’t lie to me for years? We share everything together, she should’ve known that I would’ve understood if she told me that she was an exorcist angel.”
Husk opens his mouth, but closes it, trying to figure out what to say. He opens it again, “well, did you try asking her why she didn’t tell you?”
Charlie looks down and shakes her head, “I’m..afraid of her answer.”
Husk sighs, pouring himself a drink, “you know,” he takes a big drink, “it’s okay to be scared, that’s apart of life..but so is talking. Relationships aren’t always so perfect. Fights and mistakes are what makes them healthy and special. I’m not saying that you need to fight 24/7, I’m saying that..you guys will overcome this situation. All you need to do is talk it out.”
Charlie sighs. She knew that Husk was right and she nods, “when did you get so good at this relationship stuff?” She jokes with a smile.
Husk smiles back as he looks at Angel, who’s talking to Vaggie, “since I got into one myself,” he looks back at Charlie, “now, go talk to her. Make things right.”
Charlie nods, taking a deep breath before standing up. She slowly makes her way to the couch and Vaggie looked up from her conversation with Angel, making eye contact with Charlie. Charlie holds her hand out with pleading eyes and Vaggie doesn’t hesitate to take it.
——
Lute finds Emily on the top of a mountain, but not just any mountain. It was the mountain Emily took them in their first date, before they made it official. Lute remembers it like it was yesterday.
Emily had taken them to the tallest mountain in heaven to have a picnic. She decorated it so the trees lit up and the pink roses were brighter than before. Back then was so easy, Lute thought. Never in a million years would she had thought that Emily found out about the exterminations.
Without saying anything, Lute turns to fly away, thinking about how stupid this is, but she stops herself when she hears a voice, “you know..” Lute gulps and turns to look back at Emily, “maybe I overreacted.”
Lute tilts her head as she sits down next to Emily, their legs hanging off the edge of the cliff. “What do you mean?”
Emily sighs as she stares at the city of heaven, “maybe I overreacted..” she repeats herself, “after finding out about the exterminations,” she pauses, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped, it’s just..we’ve been dating for a few months and you’ve..kept something from me that goes against what I’m trying to stop.”
Lutes breath is shaky as she opens her mouth, but then closes it. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t find the right words.
The two were quiet for like 15 minutes, neither knowing what to say. Until Emily opened her mouth, “can we just..forget about everything?” She takes a glance at Lute, “maybe I overreacted, I just-”
Lute takes Emily’s hand into her own, “it’s okay, you didn’t overreact. I should’ve told you about the exterminations to begin with, I acted stupid,” she sighs, “I’m sorry, I really am.”
——
“I’m sorry, I really am,” Vaggie speaks, her voice is quiet and soft. She and Charlie were sitting on their bed, “I’d understand if you didn’t forgive me, or if you needed time..I should’ve told you, I was just scared, and..”
“Vaggie-” Charlie tries to cut in.
“When you found me that day, you were so nice to me..”
“Vaggie-” Charlie tried again.
“I just..I don’t understand..how you could be so nice to someone you knew nothing about. I didn’t tell you because I was scared..scared of losing the best thing that happened to me..and I’d understand if you wanted t-”
“Vaggie!” Finally, Vaggies eyes meet Charlie’s. She was expecting a look of anger and disappointment, but she was brought a look of love. Charlie cups Vaggies face, “it’s okay,” she whispers, “I promise..I overreacted and I should’ve let you explain. I was hurt, but I’m not now. I just..wish you would’ve told me sooner, and I would’ve preferred finding out from you and not some prick,” the princess smiles when she hears Vaggie let out a chuckle. She presses a kiss onto her forehead before pulling her in for a hug, “I love you.”
Vaggie smiles for the first time in a few days, “more than anything.”
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A Hazy Shade of Winter (Pt. 2)
PART 1
ship: Angus Tully x fem!OC
warnings: Discussions of loss and grief, descriptions of dissociation.
summary: Carol gears up for her first night at Barton.
word count: 1767
a/n: Thanks so much for all the love on part one! I hope you enjoy this one. More to come soon.
written by @ganymede-princess
Carol’s fingers felt thick and unruly as she dug through her suitcase, scattering her belongings over one of the spare beds that she had designated as the closet. She fumbled with her hairbrush for a moment, the smooth plastic slipped through her fingers and scuttled across the floor. With a rush of loathing, she dove at it and threw it against the wall where it thumped weakly and fell onto the blankets. Underwhelmed by the result and full up with a bone deep weariness, she stooped over the bed and rested her weight on her open palms, trembling at the elbows. As she caught sight of herself in the hand mirror that laid at the bottom of her case, a stray tear slapped against the surface of her glasses, casting a wobbling splotch across her vision. Perhaps that was how the old man saw through his bad eye. Something must have gone wrong in the womb, she thought; some pressure that misshaped it. Maybe it was the same pressure that popped the connection in her brain that would have allowed her hands to work in tandem with her eyes.
She took off her glasses and set them aside, laying back on the prison mattress with her hand mirror above her. She watched herself with vision slightly blurred without her glasses, but still in focus. The face staring back was familiar, but she felt no ownership of it. Half hidden under the shag haircut she chose on her last out-day to Portland, streaked with tears, flushed at the extremities, hollow brown eyes glaring in defiance to the brokenness inside. It was the way she should look, but it wasn’t her. It was too pretty and too human. These days she was a fractionation, barely managing to act like a fully formed person in front of those boys. Grief clouded around her like moths, eating up her brain like a forgotten overcoat and tying the loose strings around the back of her tongue to stifle her speech. Jason had made her feel something like her old self for a few precious minutes, then Angus paid her the favour of shoving that part of her back into the box. Perhaps she should thank him. After all, she was closest to Elias this way.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She pushed herself up and took a shivering breath, and spoke in a voice that grated in her throat.
“I-it’s open.”
In waddled Mr Hunham, his unfocussed eyes clouded with pity. He adjusted his bowtie, then let his hands rest awkwardly by his round body, like a little brown penguin.
“Hello, Carol.” His smile was stilted, and overly toothy.
“Hi, um… Mr Hunham.”
“Please.” He hesitantly stepped toward her. “We’re in private. Just call me Paul.”
“Oh.” She paused. “U-uncle Paul?”
His eyes widened, and for a moment Carol thought he must be horrified at the suggestion, but soon he clasped his hands in front of him and smiled more genuinely than before.
“Sure. Uncle Paul.”
He just stood there for a long, awkward moment.
“Can-” She cleared her throat, willing the warble in her voice to still. “Can I help you?” She bit the inside of her cheek as punishment for stumbling on her words.
“Ah. Well, I was just seeing how you’re holding up.”
“I’m fine.” Her hand moved against her will to wipe a stray tear that tickled her cheek.
“You’re crying!” He hurried over, already wild as a bull. “If one of those reprobates said something to-”
“No!” She said, though her ribs still stung as though Angus had punched her right in the spleen. “No, nothing like that. I-I’m just… thinking about… Eli.”
“Ah.” Tentatively, he lowered himself onto the end of the bed. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through-”
“Please.” She put her hand up to absolve him, not sure if she would handle hearing any more sorries. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“Oh.”
They sat in silence for a while. Carol contemplated apologising, though she was not sure for what, so she stayed silent.
“I can’t imagine what you must be going through,” He repeated, eyeing her dubiously. “But I may know someone who can. After dinner tonight- if you want to, that is- I’d like to introduce you to Mary, our head of catering. She lost her son.”
“Oh.” She pinched her forearm, avoiding his line of sight as guilt chewed her up. “Sorry. I-I thought you were going to say… I don’t know, um-”
“I know what you meant.” Paul said gently.
“Hm.” She wiped at her face and finally met his cross-eyed gaze, darting her eyes between each of his before settling on the one that focussed on her. “Losing a child must be the hardest thing in the world.”
“I would imagine so.” He sighed. Hesitantly, he reached out to her and let his hand rest on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Carol. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to entertain a guest, let alone family. Now, I know the circumstances are not ideal, and that we said we’d be staying in Boston, but-” He let out a frustrated huff. “I’ve been unfairly targeted by my pompous asshat of a superior, so we’ll just have to play the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“I don’t mind.” She said, minding it very much. “I’m not sure now is the right time for Boston.”
“I understand.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and stood up to leave.
“Uncle Paul?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Thank you, for-”
Paul bolted upright like a meerkat as a loud thud came from the boys’ rooms, followed by the squeaking and shuffling of rubber soles on linoleum and the unmistakable grunting of two teenage boys locked in battle. He cast a wide eyed glance at her, stuttered an apology and dashed away. Carol sighed, gathering her strength and her glasses, and followed. She kept her distance as she approached, holding her arms around her waist in the old familiar protective stance.
“They weren’t fighting!” She heard Alex exclaim unconvincingly.
Peering past the younger boys she caught sight of Angus, his back pressed to the wall like a caged animal. He met her eyes with a look of such wild desperation that it knocked her off kilter with an overwhelming wave of sympathy, untempered even by her disdain for him. Then, she saw Teddy, standing with feet apart and arms raised from his sides as if poised to pounce back into the scrap. It made her skin crawl to see such malice written bold across his face, and felt validated in her immediate suspicion of him. There had been a strange glint in his eye when he rushed to shake her hand that afternoon, like sunlight on black ice. Jason stood between them, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and hair ruffled. The eye contact between them was brief; his eyes darted between her and her uncle, she raised a questioning eyebrow, he shrugged almost imperceptibly, and then it was over.
“I see.” Her uncle deadpanned. “And who started it, the ‘not fighting?’ Mm? Mr Tully? Perhaps you could shed some light on the subject?”
Carol stepped forward, intrigued. The boys stayed quiet, as she expected. All teenagers adhered to an unspoken code: don’t fink. Fink and you’re dead. Angus and Teddy’s eyes met in a silent challenge. Teddy jutted his jaw and glared like a petulant child.
“Mr Kountze? Mr Smith? Mr Ollerman? Mr Park? Alright then, we’ll do it like the Roman Legions.” Carol picked up a tinge of delight in her uncle’s voice. “Absent a confession, one man’s sin is every man’s suffering. For every minute the truth is withheld, you will all receive a detention.”
“I thought all the Nazis were hiding in Argentina.” Angus muttered. A barely contained laugh threatened to spill from Carol’s mouth, to her horror and confusion.
“Stifle it, Tully!” Mr Hunham checked his watch. “Now, in the first of said detentions, you will…” He paused as if thinking on his feet. “...clean the library. Top to bottom. Scraping the underside of the desks, which are caked with snot and gum, and all manner of unspeakable proteins.” Jason met her eyes, pleading silently ‘do something!’ “Ahh, on your hands and knees, down in the dust.” She felt a protest bubbling up in her chest. “Breathing in the dead skin of generations of students, and dessicated cockroaches-”
“Mr Hunham!”
“It was Kountze!” Little Alex blurted out, drowning her own exclamation. As he pointed desperately at Teddy, she caught Angus throwing him a look that landed somewhere between pity and disgust.
“Bravo, Mr Ollerman. Bravo!” Mr Hunham exclaimed sardonically, eyes shimmering with malignant joy. “As it stands, you've all had two hearty meals today, so I’m sure going without supper won’t hurt Mr Kountze too badly. We’ll be meeting in the dining hall in one hour, where you-” He waggled his finger at Teddy. “Will sit aside and watch us. I suggest you all take this time as an opportunity to study, and, uh, gentlemen? Break it up.”
With that, he waddled out past Park and Ollerman, raising his eyebrows as he caught sight of Carol waiting for him.
“Ah. You caught that, I assume?” She said nothing, just nodded and fell in step beside him. “I’m sensing some disapproval?”
“Well.” She bit her lip, unsure of how bold she should be. But then again, this Christmas couldn’t get any worse, right? “As a history teacher, I’m sure you’re familiar with the Geneva Convention.”
“Yes, I am.” Paul chuckled. “And I know what you’re getting at, too.”
“Well, personally, I’d rather not be subjected to any war crimes over my Christmas break. Plus, I’d rather not be in the position to agree with Angus Tully on something.”
“You’re off to a rocky start with him?”
“You could say that.”
“He’s a bright kid, in spite of his determination to act out and destroy his own potential.”
“I believe you.” She contemplated his words for a moment. “Maybe, and don’t take this the wrong way, if you, say… cut them some slack, the morale would be higher and everyone would get along a whole lot better. It’s Christmas.”
“Trust me, Carol, the last thing those boys need is leniency. They already think they can get away with murder, and I’d hate to see what comes after that. If you’re ever in the sorry position of a teacher, you’ll understand what I mean.”
“I suppose so.” She sighed, feeling thoroughly deflated. “See you at dinner.”
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all those interviews are fun even with hardcore stans speculation but god i wish they kinda stopped.
like, stop having stans interviewing actors in the first place, what do you mean they talk about couch theory? are we even serious right now? it’s obvious people are going to create even weirder hc after all these interviews.
I understand the interviewers (to a degree) bringing up b*ddie and baiting Oliver and Ryan to “leak” information or address how they are defenders of the ship, as it obviously makes dramatic headlines, which causes engagement, which advertises the show and by extent the website/reporter that did the interview.
Just a bit off topic but it has to be said: most of the interviews are borderline unprofessional. Not just with the aspect of bringing up b*ddie when the recent storyline has nothing to do with eddie but also relying their questions on stereotypes about the queer community (someone unironically asked Oliver who’s buck’s favorite pop diva now that he’s queer. Like wtf).
Anyway, going back to the mess haha. I’m not surprised the stans are acting this way (I’m very new to this fandom but not to fandoms and their discourses). I’m sometimes very invested in media and there are times I do extrapolate and need to touch grass. Sometimes I feel like people who are this invested in a fictional relationship that’s not even canon just need to find a different outlet for intense feelings, and not rely on things that are out of their control.
Of course fan reaction can influence a story being told, however fans have to also know how to approach it while being respectful. In all honesty, if I were writing a show and I finally went with a storyline I wasn’t allowed to write before because the network previously denied, and that was how the fans of a ship reacted, I would be pissed. I think I would not have b*ddie be a thing out of spite.
The bi!buck/bucktommy storyline is a huge step forward for a tv show in this scale. In fact, I can’t remember other procedurals that have as many queer main characters as 911/911 lone star. It’s been said, but a story about this very masculine man that has been known as a womanizer figuring out he’s bisexual well into his thirties and in the seventh season of a very popular show that is not part of a specific niche is important and should be celebrated on its own, regardless of ships or whatever the fans have to say about the partner choice.
But let’s be real for a second as I end my little essay here. If you know a single thing about writing, you know you can’t just throw a love story without buildup and as hard as it is to accept, the interactions between buck and eddie seemed to have always been ambiguous on purpose, and buck being maybe into guys was more played off as a joke. I know the fans want the ship to happen, but if they want this love story to happen, they gotta be patient. Just commenting “we don’t like this. We want buddie!” on an ig post about tevan won’t make the story suddenly turn into that direction.
What I’m saying won’t change anyone’s mind but whoever reads until the end, I want yall to know that unfortunately every fandom is like this and we gotta try our best to stay out of the discourse cause in all seriousness: none of this matters. It’s a show and arguing about it, bothering the actors, commenting annoying things on ig won’t change anything.
#if somehow a b*ddie stan found this and is mad at me I want to make it clear that I don’t think I’m better because of what couple I ship#nor that I’m this perfect little angel who never had extreme and weird takes about things before#like I said before if b*ddie is something Tim actually planned to do and wants to do#and if it’s a story told well#im all for it#lety rambles#ask#911#911 lone star#bucktommy#tevan#firefly#firepilot
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favorite oc of yours? :3
i was gonna say all of them/i can't choose but No ..... this is my blorbo ever. this is eclipse. though i forgot to draw their wings for this one... they're one of my dearest ocs and i swear they're a rain world oc i've just never gotten around to draw them like ... pre-selfmods... i do have pre-the horrors however
this is my beloved i love them dearly ^ they were originally a ferven, a species created by the ancients to act as companion animals [think rain world's edition of cats, lol]. i might get in to making a ref of their species later because they are by no means a regular ferven. they were created by three clouds, lost skies - a prolific and artistic bioengineer.
while they can't exactly speak, they are sapient [unlike. other fervens. but fervens are in general very intelligent] and know how to express themself and communicate with clouds.
umm shit happens wrong place wrong time. they watch clouds get Murdered. absolutely fucking murdered. and its by Mr High Ranking Bioengineer Guy That Has No Morals Whose Name I Shall Not Speak [you can find him on my toyhouse or whatever lmao]. so That Guy sees the perfect opportunity to see if it's possible, just for science really, to turn a creature into an ancient.
he knows how very illegal and immoral this is. he does it anyway. The Horrors[tm] ensue for eclipse and they are NOT taking it well and i actually have this written but i'm not sure if i should share it ... just imagine being so very confused and panicked and nothing you do is familiar so you try to scream but that isn't your voice and this isn't your body what happened- and then it cuts black.
anyway. skipping forward a bit. they get used to it ... sorta. but there's still a lot of body dysmorhpia. That Guy doesn't know eclipse remembers their origins [he's just chalking their weird behaviour up to, well. what they used to be], but he does keep them very... isolated, to say. they don't know a lot of people. near the mass ascension though, he tries to force them in a vat of void fluid and wouldn't you like to know who gets his ass absolutely fucking echoed.
eclipse feles very guilty about this and feels like they weren't justified At All just because of how much vigil manipulated them and their mindset throughout the entire time, so they take off to the surface and just run. they don't know where they're going but they're running. they can't fly, they just lost one of their wings to the void fluid burns coming from the void fluid splashing out and hitting them. the adrenaline rush is whats keeping them from feeling that pain.
so! that just happened! they basically just murdered a man! okay! i don't know about you but when they realized the fuck they just did while the pain also hits them. yeahhhhh that's not ending up very well.
either way, time passes, they make friends with an iterator and said iterator helps them with genemods. eclipse, alike their creator, is also a very prolific bioengineer and knows what they're doing. a lot of the genemods are ones they made themself, while some are made with the help of the iterator - seven songs ablaze.
eventually though, a bunch of time after the mass ascension they find the global line's back up. and boy are they in for a ride
#[asks]#shadowindvii#i always typo your user at first#oc tag: [eclipse]#i need to go back and edit all my old posts to edit oc tags#[oc rambles]#...ill have to ask someone if theyre ok with me making their oc and stuff canon to eclipse's lore because i do really wanna make that canon
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ur katpee raturine post is making me wonder if aventurine and ratio would even survive the hunger games ? u should become president bladie and host one
I WAS PUTTING A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS IN THAT HUNGER GAMES SIMULATOR SITE RECENTLY
here are some highlights. furthermore, i rambled (huge surprise i know)
anyways i love hunger games AUs (i love when characters suffer and die) so i will definitely spend a long time considering this. ive fully written out several with ocs. my first fandom was the hunger games ok i read all three books 11 times so now i have to ponder everything forever
i think aventurine would do really well with getting sponsorships and all that. well liked by the capitol. kind of a finnick type of guy. ratio i feel like wouldnt be as well liked, but still have a decent amount of sponsors since he’s strong and very smart so he’s got higher odds of winning.
okay wait they do kind of have peeta and katniss vibes like not THAT much but the crowd-pleasing good at acting guy and the NOT crowd-pleasing guy who is skilled in survival and not great at acting but unfortunately has to play along with blonde mans act to get ahead. i can see ratio doing that thing katniss did with shooting the arrow at the people supposed to be judging her and sarcastically bowing and going Thank You. For your Consideration. but i suppose he just throws a chalk.
i think a lot of people would want to ally with ratio but he would reject them. makes no sense if they’ll just have to kill each other later. aventurine.. hmm. well like i said he’s well-liked by the capitol which means he’s probably not as liked by the tributes, and considering he doesnt like to show his hand (haha card reference) he wouldnt have shown any skills he has, so no one would particularly have any incentive to ally with him. but. Ough. well. kakavasha. if we made them separate like in the quest and kakavasha was one of the kids that got reaped for the games. well lets not think about that too much or i’ll get sad
ultimately considering aventurine’s luck etc i think he’d make it pretty far and if he DID die it wouldn’t be an accident or a surprise, he’d have set himself up for it to either allow someone else a win, OR spare himself a more gruesome/painful death later. if ratio died i think it’d be an accident. i dont think anyone could actually kill him in a fight, but he could get caught or hit by a trap or he tried to be smart and go out to the edge of the arena but hit the barrier and got zapped. like i feel like it’d have to be somethign small, ONE thing he happened to overlook. but i think it’s obvious neither of them is winning alone. they win together or they both die OR aventurine deliberately sets himself up to die at the very end so ratio is declared the victor. i think that one is pretty likely and hurts in the best way so lets go with that one alright? aventurine eats some poisonous shit or smth in secret and ratio thinks they’re going to find a way to win together until aventurine is like. actively dying and admits what he did. Lol. 😆
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i know my father means well most of the time but everything he could do wrong he WILL do wrong and it wouldn't be that much of a problem if he wouldn't actively make my life harder. he is like a toddler that doesn't know shit and can't think logically yet bc he's been spoiled his entire life
#johnny's silly rambles#vent#man has perfected weaponized incompetence#but like. also in emotional stuff not only household stuff#dude will demand a hug even when he should know that i can't stand it#and then he'll act dumb like “oh i didn't know this” like bro i told you like twenty times already. do you want a lawsuit?#i think he just IS dumb#and like i feel bad for calling him out on stuff but also why should i care?#he wanted to leave and crawled back to us#he should be lucky that he can BE here#(and that i didn't slit his throat - i mean what who said that?)#bro has another child!!!!! in another country and he just doesn't give a fuck#that child will grow up resenting him too#he fucked up on all sides and while he really only meant well he FUCKS UP ANYWAYS#welp. anyways#i never feel like i deserve to be angry about this#but i am#very much so
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day 6: roronoa zoro [cock warming]
࿓ synopsis • you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.
―❦ nsfw, opla!zoro, f!reader, reader is being needy & brat, pussy slapping, pet names, teasing, swearing, ‘is all! • 1.2k • a man that takes all my attention to himself in an instant in every type of universe; live action, manga, and anime. I chose to write for la!zoro version ‘cause why not? enjoy, hope I did everything right! [kinktober m.]
“stop moving, you're distracin' me.”
his deep voice cuts your actions of trying to stay still on his lap, adjusting your position so that your numb legs will fix, but, the struggle causes your pussy to clench around his length because of sudden movement which ends up by earning an unsteady thrust. looking at his face, hands gripping the collar of his sleeve, you see his closed eyes, trying to continue the nap he’s taking in the middle of the day.
“sorry –“ you say, smiling innocently knowing he cannot see, “I didn’t mean to, it’s just –“ you try to find a solid word to describe the situation you’re in now but the weight of lust running through your pussy takes your brain away, wanting to break free, letting yourself go and wasting the last thirty-four minutes waste, waking zoro up, being a greedy brat – only to make him not sleep, instead, fuck you. “so much.”
you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking aloud – just fuck me already! Just move this thick cock and fill me up! – pathetic.
you’re here, sitting down on his cock, warming it, being useful.
the moment of the morning came into your mind; the crew went to bring food and new clothes to the ship, and when they left, only you and zoro were on the ship, you said ‘I wanna be useful for you’ because he’s still healing and you wanted to help – anything, you added, which was a bad idea – maybe, it wasn’t that bad though.
zoro, being a greedy boyfriend even if he tries to hide it, decided to make you a useful one – for his damn cock – to warm it up!
“so much?” he teases you, taking you back to reality, making the sensation on your pussy grow bigger each passing time, moving his hips, acting as if he just adjusts his position like you did minutes ago – only this time, it’s an act – to try you, seeing how much you can handle this. folding his arms, he opens his eyes slowly, an eyebrow is raised, questioning, “what’s so much? I even didn’t begin to fuck you, did I, doll?”
opening your legs wider, challenging him, a whimper leaves your mouth yet zoro doesn’t show any sign of being greedy to fuck you – oh, what self-control!
but you’re not done yet. “it seems you will never do,” you say, shrugging, hands on his shoulder building up to his neck, playing with the hair on his neck – the most breathtaking man you have ever seen – he’s so beautiful that you would beg anytime now but you should try first – to break him into the point in which he will let himself go and move his hips. “I know I am here for the help – to warm your cock,” you point to the sight in front of him – your pussy beautifully covering his thick cock, wetness that comes out of you soaking his veined length. “am I helping?”
opening his arms, he puts them behind his head’s back instead as he leans to the wall of the chair you’re sitting on – eyes travel from your tight pussy to your face, meeting with your innocent smile and sparkling eyes.
“u-huh,” he says, trying to understand where you’re heading with this question, because he knows you well enough to realize you want him to move, yet stubborn and prideful to beg, not until the right moment which zoro waits to arrive. “warming my cock so well that I can feel you dripping into it – hot.”
nodding to him, heat rushes to your face at the sudden compliment, making you gain a confident manner, and continue on with your act; being a fucking brat, using his jealousy to achieve your goal – you would feel bad under other circumstances but not today, not when you want him to devour you – he’s hard to resist, and you’re so greedy to be a good girl.
“anything for my crewmate,” not boyfriend – a crewmate. it takes his attention, eyes on your face, daring you to go on with piercing gazes, jaw getting tight, straight face expression that screams danger. it only turns you on further. “I will make sure to provide my service to the captain as well than because he can need – agggh – zoro –!”
your words are cut by him; raising your body up a little until his tip releases you, and then, without missing a heartbeat, putting it down on his length, thrusting into your dozy pussy, earning a scream out of your mouth.
holding his shoulder tightly, you try to stay in balance while he keeps doing that without any particular rhythm and steadiness so that you get cockdumbed mind right away – all dizzy, just moaning, feeling him shoving his dick into you, balls hitting the ass – finally!
“is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks, hands open your skirt by damaging its buttons, nearly tearing it apart, cupping the breasts through the fabric of your bra before letting them watch how they bounce in sync with your body, raising up and down on his cock with more rapid pace now – devouring you – the things you wanted for a long time. “want me to break that pussy, pretty doll – ohhh – uhmm – y/n – you – you will fuckin’ get it!”
his hands are positioned on your waist, looking down, seeing your clit getting wider with each of his hard and strong thrusts, warming it with all the juices you make – you literally soak now, close to the edge, and zoro smirks at you the moment he hears the crew entering the ship.
his possessive and rough side takes control of his mind – his soul as he picks you up, you already begin to beg for him to put his cock inside, pleases coming out of your parted pink lips that you bite so hard. you let him turning your body, abdomen touching the surface of the bed, cock’s tip resting on the entrance of your pussy, then, he slaps it with his dick, a hand finds your neck, putting your face down onto the pillow – his body hovering behind you as your ass gets higher and higher.
it feels so vulnerable to be in this position as if you’re his own fucktoy to play with, and you can’t deny the fact that even the thought of it can make you cum in an instant.
“zoro – aggh – I –“ you try to say when his dick slaps your clit once again, your body jumps – feeling both shy and shameless at the same time but he cuts you out, cock enters you in one go, jolting your body forward.
“cut it. you don’t want to waste your breath now, you will need it when I make you scream my name enough to make all the crew hear it,” he chuckles – the rings of danger echo inside your head, making you look behind and see him; standing on his knees, eyes on your face, a smirk is visible that gives chill down to your spine at the sight – his glory has one meaning – is that he will not leave this room until others – and your brat brain understands only he can have you like this.
“will make sure everyone knows who’s fuckin’ you day and night, including you, you dumb doll. should’ve learned it sooner, but, I’m always open to teaching you how to be a good fuckin' girl for me.”
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*
#💦 kinktober 2023 first week#kinktober 2023#day 6#zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x you#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#zoro rononoa x reader#zoro x f!reader#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece live action#opla#opla x reader#opla smut#zoro smut#zoro roronoa smut#green#WHAT A BABYGIRL WHO IS BOSSY#was fun to write & hope you found it fun too!
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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao
*light novel spoilers*
I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)
And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?
POISON
She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.
And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.
I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.
And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.
One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.
So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.
Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:
She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was
that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant
expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of
her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes
as she struggled to breathe.
It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said
that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she
told him.
“I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers
tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were
one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t
done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a
dancer.”
So he had been watching them!
“I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost
much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she
really couldn’t.
Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.
It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.
And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.
They both are hypocrites.
And they both refuse to accept their feelings.
In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....
Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"
"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master
Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say
to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from
ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all
out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a
man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love
with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it.
He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so
sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent
her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when
someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming
to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies.
Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if
he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she
knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”
Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in
one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words
come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less
startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something
else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.
Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and
he was about to give her one back.
“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what
I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what
you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute.
I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her
hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he
seemed almost embarrassed.
Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao!
Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”
It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.
Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.
The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.
More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.
Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.
Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.
Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.
It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....
She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.
Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!
So, she got interested in poison.
Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.
And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.
Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.
But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).
Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)
Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.
~Sunshine
#maomao#kusuriya no hitorigoto#kusuriya no hitorigoto manga#jinshi#jinshi x maomao#maomao x jinshi#the apothecary diaries#the Apothecary Diaries manga#tad manga#kusuriya no hitorigoto spoilers#manga#anime#spoilers#kusuriya no hitorigoto light novel#kusuriya no hitorigoto LN#the apothecary diaries anime#shoujo#shoujo couples#seinen#aashi animetalks#aashi heartfilia#mao mao#mao mao x jinshi#mao mao x reader#mao mao tad#maomao kusuriya no hitorigoto#light novel#kusuriya anime#shoujo anime#shoujo anime couples
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Benign
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.
Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.
You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.
Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.
The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.
But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.
After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.
Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.
You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.
Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.
But Steve would.
Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.
You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.
“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.
He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.
“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”
You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.
Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.
He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.
“Gentle?” he mumbled.
“Rough,” you countered.
“Baby—”
“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”
Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.
“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”
You turned onto your side.
“You still don’t remember what happened?”
The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.
“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.
“This Winter Soldier—”
“He isn’t me.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”
Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.
“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.
Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.
At last, you made up your mind.
You would try something new—and really, really stupid:
“Zhelaniye.”
“What?”
Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.
“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”
He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
“Wait—”
You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.
“Baby, baby, stop—”
“—pech, devyat—”
You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.
“Don’t—”
“—adin—”
No time at all.
“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”
Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.
“—dobroserdechniy—”
‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.
Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.
It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.
Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.
Faintly, you said:
“Soldat.”
The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.
“...Bucky?”
The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.
“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.
The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.
“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.
You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.
Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.
“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.
The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.
Or try to, anyway.
Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.
You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.
“James—”
“Zhena.”
The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.
To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.
Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.
“Zhena,” he repeated.
You blinked.
“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”
He hummed in acknowledgment.
Bucky stared at the ring for what could’ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.
Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.
“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.
Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.
You whimpered. Bucky groaned.
Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.
You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.
Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—
“Stop!” you cried.
A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.
Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.
“Honey?”
You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.
Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.
The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.
Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.
A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.
But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.
Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?
“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.
You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.
Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.
And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.
“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.
You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.
When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.
You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.
Again, he nodded.
“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.
He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.
He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.
“Bucky?”
The man looked up at you and blinked.
“Yeah, honey?”
One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.
The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.
It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.
Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.
“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.
But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.
All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.
Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.
You wanted that part to change.
With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.
Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.
Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.
Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.
His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing—”
“My baby okay?”
He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.
You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.
Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.
“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.
You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.
You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.
Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.
When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.
His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.
Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.
“No, let me—”
“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.
Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.
His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.
“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”
He sounded irritated again.
Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.
It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.
“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.
The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.
Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.
You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.
This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.
The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.
But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.
Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:
“Bucky.”
The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:
“Bucky.”
He blinked.
And slowed.
“Bucky,” he mumbled back.
Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.
“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.
The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.
“Years,” he answered.
“Years?”
Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?
No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.
You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.
Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.
You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.
It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.
For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.
“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”
“Since what?”
The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.
“Close now?” he muttered.
Ignoring the question you’d asked.
“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.
Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.
What you saw made your stomach drop.
Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.
Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.
He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.
“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.
The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.
“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.
The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.
Pleading.
“I can’t lose you again.”
The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’
You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.
You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.
Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.
You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.
You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.
Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.
You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.
“James?” you mumbled into his hair.
Bucky didn’t respond.
You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.
Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.
He didn’t.
It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.
At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.
Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.
“Baby, it’s just—”
Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.
The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—
You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:
“Stay.”
Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.
But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.
And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.
Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.
You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.
“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.
If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.
But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.
If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.
Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.
You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.
SOS
Need help
Pick up please
Bucky’s stuck and he’s
About to hurt people here
A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.
“Bucky!”
Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.
You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.
The line went dead. You tried again.
Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.
The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:
“STEVE!”
“Mrs. Barnes?”
You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.
You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:
“This is Mrs. Barnes?”
“Yes,” you answered woodenly.
You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.
“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”
The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.
“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”
No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.
You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.
“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”
“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.
The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.
“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”
“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”
Another pause.
“Prenatals.”
You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.
“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes—I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”
Three weeks along.
Advised prenatal vitamins.
For the child growing inside of you.
A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.
Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.
You hung up.
—
Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob bucky#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier smut
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Whipped!Miguel worships the very ground you walk on. You can do no wrong his eyes. You are his lovely wife, and no one or nothing can stray his mind from you.
Miguel was on his knees arms wrapped around you as his lips kisses your stomach gently.
"Cariño...I love you" he said between kisses.
"I love you too Miguel." You say as you smile.
You two were in his office as he gave you all his attention. He continued to kiss your stomach while his hands trailed down and rubbed your thighs. As he was busy admiring you and your body, Miles, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Peter (with Mayday strapped to him as always) came in unannounced. They were in shock to see their boss, the man who refused to even say excuse me to some of them on his knees.
"Ah..Miguel people are here" you say to him quietly.
You try to pry him off but it didn't work. He just hugged you tighter.
"They can wait." He stated.
They all felt like that was their sign to leave. So they all scurried out of his office after taking a few pictures to show everyone.
Miguel stayed hugging you before he looked back up at you.
"No one and nothing is more important that you..I'd destroy the whole multiverse for you." He said as his lip graze your stomach.
You smiled gently. This man was 6'9 and acted like a complete softy with you.
You feel his hands trail up your thigh and his eyes were filled with need.
"Can we...?" His voice trails off but you already knew what he wanted.
You smile running your fingers through his hair.
"Hm..I don't think so..well not right now at least. Finish up your work here, and I'll be waiting for you at home." You say with a smile.
You stand up with Miguel still attached to your hip. You saw his face droop and he lets out a small groan.
"All my work..?" He asks as he stands up.
"All of it. When you finish I'll be waiting for you at home." You say with a small wink before walking out.
You were in for a very long night. You could feel his lust and greed as you walked out.
《 A/N 》 I feel like I should write the night but idk I'm working on a sub? Idk submissive? Idek Miguel fic. This was just a little drabble
#loveforeren#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel ohara
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♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡
Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡
Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.
Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)
A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).
Masterlist || Spotify Playlist
Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence.
“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried.
“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly.
“But I'm not a woman.”
“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again.
“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.”
“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter.
It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.
The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down.
Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again.
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter.
“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise.
“And your name is?”
“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.”
You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body.
“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?”
Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up.
With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub.
He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason.
“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest.
“Good observation, Spencer.”
“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head.
“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor.
His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again.
Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him.
A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that.
When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours.
You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election.
You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace.
“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.”
Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you.
He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together.
You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet.
So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway.
“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him.
“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin.
He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him.
“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-”
“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?”
His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape.
“I-I'm not a student, and-”
“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.”
His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist.
His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex.
Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you, desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you.
Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper.
He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him.
His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley.
“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?”
“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him.
“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.”
His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin.
You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched.
You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him.
He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust.
You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin.
“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock.
“Did it hurt?”
“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.”
He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving.
He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for.
With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to.
“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him.
“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure.
“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.”
“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier.
He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you.
You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there.
You weren't.
“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?”
You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today.
There was always tomorrow.
He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed.
“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder.
He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there.
Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up.
He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.
“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.”
You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words.
The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs.
It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.
“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?”
He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely.
Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened.
“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.
“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs.
He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head.
Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch.
“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out.
“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug.
“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.”
“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer.
“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.”
You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him.
“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.”
The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal.
Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake.
“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.”
He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts.
“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?”
“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be.
“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?”
Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there.
“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?”
His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct.
You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer.
“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again.
His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning.
“You knew the entire time? Who I was?”
“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”
“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.”
You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest.
“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled.
“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.”
He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again.
“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his.
“Y/N, please let's be sensible.”
“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?”
“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans.
“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.”
His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit.
“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut.
He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly.
“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.”
He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him.
“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue.
“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?”
He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them.
“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper.
“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth.
“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.”
But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry.
“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again.
This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock.
You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock.
It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so.
“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time.
Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair.
“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.”
His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
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Choose me her : Gojo x reader
a/n: ok i keep seeing gojo (basically jjk) everywhere and i noticed i haven't written any angst yet so here y'all go <;33
"oh come on Y/N, you're being ridiculous!!"
Were you though? Was it so wrong for you to feel jealous, upset, betrayed when his "girl best friend" was all over him? And he let her be? It has always been like this, way before you and Gojo started dating, he was already "close" with the woman you wished to be would go away. You tried so hard to stop the disgusting green envy, the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach, the feeling of starless lonely nights. But you just can't. Several times Gojo would tell you it was nothing, several times he said he would always choose you over her. Why should he have to choose in the first place? Why was she an option? You finally had enough earlier this day when you saw her all over your man, hugging his chest while laughing at some stupid joke your boyfriend made, at a little get together you, Gojo, and some of his friends had. You always felt left out. As if you were just some bystander, watching him have the time of his life, without you. But you fought, you fought hard. You tried so many times to get along with everyone, to get along with her. And many times you failed. It was as if there was some barrier you couldn't cross, a special bond that "best friends" had. When you and Gojo finally arrived at your little apartment, you decided to confront him about it.
"Is it so hard to just tell her to know her boundaries- our boundaries?! You know damn well what you and her are doing!"
"What the hell are you talking about?? She's my best friend of course we're close, look baby I know you think there's something more, but there really isn't! You're just overthinkin-"
"Don't you dare Gojo Satoru... Don't turn this on me! Stop acting like I'm the crazy one when you guys are borderline cheating!!" Your vision was starting to blur with tears, years of frustration finally coming out. You felt small, a small voice in your head questioning you was this really something worth fighting about, what if you really are overreacting? But an even bigger voice tells you that enough is enough.
"Okay look, you're just tired okay? We can talk about this tomorro-"
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS TOMORROW, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW!! I spent YEARS putting up with this Satoru, YEARS!! And you can't even spend a bit of your time to talk about this right now!??"
"Look this isn't getting us anywhere, we're both tired. I'll listen to you tomorrow, let's just" you flinched away from his touch when he tried to pull you to go to the bedroom. He looked shock, only proving that he didn't know how hurt you were, how small you felt, how unimportant you felt. "Do you like her?" You were now crying, your voice shaking, though you try your best to hide how weak you felt right now, you tried your best to preserve what little pride you had. "What the fuck?? How many times do I have to tell you I DON'T. She's just a friend!"
"You're always with her!! And the way she's literally all over you??"
"That's how we've always been! Y/N, I knew her way before I knew you-"
"So what??? That gives her a pass to act like your girlfriend??"
"She's not acting like my girlfriend, god Y/N, we've been together for years, you still don't trust me??"
"Stop gaslighting me!!"
"I'M NOT!! I'm literally just telling you, this. is. insane. We've been through this a million fucking times, and maybe if you just listened, and trusted me, this fight wouldn't happen."
Your eyes widened as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This is crazy. Every moment that goes by feels like daggers to your heart, every breath you take feels sharp, it feels like you could fall anytime now. "Is it that hard to just listen to me? Is it that hard to respect me?" You wiped the tears falling on your cheeks, you refuse to let him see you like this, you refused to bow, just like how you were doing all these time. Gojo brought his hand to his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.
"You're the one not listening. How am I supposed to avoid her when she's one of my best friends?? Aren't you asking for too much? I love you but I can't be friends with anyone else? Isn't this too much?"
"Friends don't act like that. I bet if someone was acting like that to me, you'd be upset too, but noo I wouldn't dare try to hurt you the way you hurt me." You were starting to shake with frustration? Anger? As your tears continued to fall. He took your arm to try and hug you "Come on Y/N, we can talk about this in the morning"
"friends don't act like that, why don't you choose her as your girlfriend instead"
"Yeah, WELL MAYBE I WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF WITH HER THAN YOU"
Gojo shouted as his patience ran out, feeling nothing but frustration, why couldn't you get it? He loved you not her. Did you not trust him? But just as quickly as those words left his mouth, he realized how contradicting it was. Gojo felt nauseous as panic made his heart feel like it was running a marathon. Regret was evident in his eyes, while resolution was evident in yours. You had enough. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, none of you moved, it felt like something was gonna swallow you both whole if you moved, like nothing could ever fix the damage done. You felt empty, relieved in a weird way, now you know how he really felt. The relief of your paranoia being justified outweighed the pain of being disregarded. But Gojo was the complete opposite, he's so scared. He couldn't lose you, he really did love you, so so much. He knew he fucked up but he'd do anything to fix it, he'd even stop talking to his girl best friend, even block any girl for you. He had to fix this. "Baby-"Just as he was about to reach out to you, you quickly left the apartment. Just like that. No words, no goodbyes, just shattered feelings but a head held high, you refuse to be stepped on any longer.
As you exited the apartment, Gojo was left all alone, and the apartment filled with loving memories of you and him felt suffocating. And maybe, for the first time in a poetic fucked up way, he knew how you felt, small.
Part 2 here
a/n: could y'all tell this was a bit from experience? lol
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk anime#gojo satoru angst#gojo angst#jjk angst#angst#drabble fic#drabbles#gojo drabbles#gojo imagine#x reader
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One of the bats has to go undercover as a patient of a particularly suspect new and upcoming therapist. Bruce already has a backstory fleshed out and a cover identity, but that's no fun now is it.
Dick: Okay, the bat council is now in session. First things first-
Steph: I'm the realest.
Jason: Shut the fuck up.
Dick: No, no arguing. We're here on a MISSION.
Tim: That's right, a very important mission.
Dick: One of us has to go undercover as Dr. Hoffman's patient. But why? Why are we seeking therapy?
Tim: Wrong answers only. If any of you get too real, Dick can and will find you a real therapist.
Dick: And Tim, no superhero related answers. Bernard's PowerPoint nights give you too much of an advantage.
Tim: You're just jealous I know that Batman is actually a tulpa.
Jason: You shut the fuck up too.
---
Dick: Okay, I'll go first to get the obvious answer out of the way. I'm going because I'm secretly Batman, BUT I'm not here about that. I just have incredibly selective amnesia and can't remember the code to the Batmobile.
Jason: Oh that one's good. Let me think.
Steph: Hoffman is a man, right?
Dick: Right.
Steph: Easy, I'll claim womanly problems. Maybe get prescribed a vibrator.
Tim: *wheezes*
Dick: Ok Gotham's in the dark ages of psychology but not THAT much.
Steph: Spoilsport. Fine, I'm Batman's long lost twin sister.
Duke: Come on, we can't all go to therapy because of Batman.
Jason: I don't know, I feel like all of us should go to therapy because of Batman.
Cass: I'll go because I'm Batman.
Jason: I'd vote for you.
Duke: I think I would go because Metropolis isn't real.
Tim: Like, the whole city is-
Duke: It's a conspiracy. The government wants us to think there's this wonderful city where nothing bad ever happens and an actual alien from space saves the day. Tries to make us buy into some utopian bullshit.
Tim: Hoffman's just going to drive you there.
Duke: Ha! He's not getting ME to a secondary location. He might be in on it.
Steph: Compelling, definitely compelling. I nominate Duke's for first place.
Jason: Don't jump the gun.
Tim: Yeah, you haven't heard ours.
Steph: Well? Let's hear it then.
Tim: I'm an alien spy, sent here to study humans. Only I'm not doing well because I was taken in by rich people and they act weirder than me. I want to know what it means to be human, but whenever I look around all I see is how to make a good margarita. It makes me... sad.
Steph: That's no good. We said wrong answers only.
Jason: Solid four out of ten.
Tim: Fuck off.
Jason: I think I would go because I was convinced I was the second coming of Jesus which is all fine and good, but my whole family is Jewish so it's making things a little awkward at the dinner table.
Steph: You did come back from the dead.
Jason: I did and I'll tell him that. Took a little longer than three days this time, though.
Tim: Okay, I'll be honest. Jason and Duke's are the best.
Dick: Hold on- Damian, do you have an answer?
Damian: Of course. And not one so foolish.
Duke: Well?
Damian: Well, my whole family is comprised of vigilantes and I'm under a lot of stress to be one as well and continue the family tradition. I will of course swear him to secrecy and avoid naming any vigilantes by name.
Dick: ...
Jason: This is what I'm talking about. This is exactly what I'm-
Dick: Yes, okay. Game's over. All of you are getting psych referrals in your inbox by the morning.
Steph: What about-
Dick: Duke won.
#tim drake#dick grayson#jason todd#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#duke thomas#my writing tag#this is obviously a joke and not a real 1:1 representation of reasons to seek therapy#let's see how long before someone wildly misinterprets it#batfamily
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Jealousy a la Bucky
Summary: He’s not jealous.
Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting
He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.
What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.
“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”
“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”
“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”
“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.”
He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.
Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”
“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”
Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality.
“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”
“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”
You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.
“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”
“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”
“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”
Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him.
“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”
“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”
‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”
“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”
“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in.
“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”
“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”
“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”
“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”
“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”
“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.
“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”
“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”
“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”
You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#mobster!bucky#mobster!bucky barnes x reader#female reader#mafia au
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spoilers for 2.1 !!!!!!!
aventurine rant, please keep in my mind that these are my own thoughts and interpretations. im extremely sleep deprived lol so im sorry if i got anything wrong
something thats been on my mind since yesterday are these lines.
from the start to me, it was very clear aventurine had self esteem/worth issues because of how he treats his own life, but the line that says “the other hand is below the table, clutching your chips for dear life” stuck out to me.
i always assumed aventurine was so incredibly confident in his luck but in reality he is afraid. he’s terrified that he’ll lose. it’s an act. he convinces himself, he fools himself, he forces himself to act like he’s confident he’ll win, when in reality even if he does win, he’s still clutching his chips under the table for dear life because of how terrified he is of losing.
that really messed with me to be honest. i feel tricked and what’s ironic is that he tricks his opponents into thinking he’s confident, and he also tricked ME the player but really, this made my heart break in two because i had absolutely no clue up until now.
so why does he act this way
all throughout his life, aventurine has had his pride stripped away. just try to imagine being in his shoes. i myself do not think i could deal with the situations he was put in. i cannot stress this enough, aventurine has a mark on his neck that screams to him that he has once belonged to someone. he has had his pride stripped away from him countless times. but it’s ironic because aventurine is introduced as a very prideful and flashy man. you start to realize the front aventurine puts on is his own way of protecting himself. it’s how he’s able to live basically. i wanna go into more detail but i will later.
as it was said before, aventurine is an uptight person who worries. he is extremely afraid of losing and he has a massive inferiority complex. aventurine may seem like a go lucky person on the outside, but in actuality he is not. he is not happy. he has no self worth, he believes he has nothing to live for, and he has no problem with throwing his life away. aventurine believes the only good thing he brings to the table is his luck.
but this brings me to my next point.
aventurine may not realize it, but he is so much more than his luck. he has so many good qualities and he doesn’t seem to realize it. even if some of it may be an act, he’s still able to pull it off. he’s still an intelligent business man who is both charming and cunning EVEN if it may be an act, those are still amazing qualities to have in his line of work.
but more importantly, aventurine chose to live. despite witnessing his family die, being a slave, and tortured, he chose to live. he chooses to. i cannot stress this enough. this man has gone through hell and back. he truly has had an incredibly difficult life to the point where my heart hurts so so badly for him. he made the decision to stay alive.
that says more than enough about his character.
and last but not least, aventurine wants one thing, and that is to be with his family. he’s witnessed horrible things in his life that no one should ever go through. he lost everyone close to him, he lost his people. he has nothing to live for and he values his life so little to the point where he has no problem with dying. the only real thing that he wants is just to see his family.
and he will one day, but in the meantime, i genuinely hope this man can find a reason to live, and ratio already gave him one just by that note. i just truly wish aventurine happiness while he lives the rest of his life.
i guess this is a topic that really hits me hard because i know all too well that choosing to live life isn’t easy sometimes and i just love aventurine.
let’s all appreciate how truly amazing his character is.
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