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#like i just want to be able to do my own thing at all times without worrying about external influence
jenanigans1207 · 1 day
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“I don’t regret it, Dean.” Cas says quietly. “Telling you I love you was the best moment of my life.”
“Yeah? Well, it was the worst of mine!” Dean yells, throwing his arms out to the side. There’s a moment of stricken silence where Cas’s face falls and Dean realizes how his words came across. He rushes to elaborate. “Do you know how many years I wondered if angels could feel love? Romantic love? Do you know how long I hoped that they could— that you, specifically, could? And more than that, that you would feel it towards me? I wondered all the goddamn time, Cas. And then you— you finally—“ Dean swallows past a lump in his throat, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You finally tell me not only that you can love, but you love me. Me. And in one second, ten years of my wildest dreams came true and then were ripped away.”
Dean looks down at his feet. Clenches his jaw against the feelings threatening to choke him. He tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose but it doesn’t help him feel any better.
“Dean—“
“I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again.” Dean confesses to his boots. “I thought I’d have to live the rest of my miserable life knowing I could’ve had you and kicking myself for being such a dumb piece of shit.” He swallows again and looks up. “I thought you were going to spend eternity not knowing that I love you, too.”
“I didn’t mean— Dean, I didn’t—“ Cas shakes his head as words fail him.
“So yeah,” Dean shrugs a little helplessly, his voice still tight with emotion. “It was the worst moment of my life. Except for every moment that came after— because every single moment from your death until you came back was the worst moment of my life. Every moment without you is. And you coming back could’ve been the best moment of my life if you hadn’t been such an ass about everything.”
There was a time, once, in the distant past where Cas’s face never betrayed any emotion. Dean could’ve scrutinized every single molecule of his expression and he wouldn’t have been able to read a goddamn thing from it. That hasn’t been the case for a long time— Cas took to emotions and humanity better than Dean did, and it was the only thing Dean had ever known.
Now, Dean can read a multitude of emotions in Cas’s expression: disbelief in the slight part of his lips, hope in the blue of his eyes, shock in the rise of his eyebrows. He can practically read every thought going through Cas’s mind as he tries to process what’s happened.
And then, there it is: acceptance in the way the corner of Cas’s mouth ticks up.
“I had no idea.” Cas answers after a moment.
“‘Course you didn’t.” Dean replies, his own mouth mirroring the small smile. “You fucked off before I got a chance to say it back.”
“I just assumed—“
“You know what they say about assuming, Cas.”
“No, I don’t.” Cas is full on smiling now, warm and full of the love Dean had only ever seen hidden in shadows of his expressions. Now it’s practically splitting his face open, spilling out of Cas like he’s finally filled up with so much of it that it’s simply impossible to keep it all in. “And frankly, I don’t care. I only care about what you have to say.”
Dean huffs out a fond laugh as he shakes his head. “Finally gonna let me do the talking, huh?”
“I’m in the mood to do some listening,” Cas’s grin is dazzling and a little cheeky, Dean wants to memorize it immediately.
He takes a step closer to Cas. And then another. Cas simply watches him approach, making no attempt to back away. His personal space is inviting and Dean enjoys stepping directly into it with no hesitation.
“Well, I might be in the mood for something other than talking.” Dean whispers, less than a foot from Cas now.
“Oh?” Cas prompts, his hand reaching across the minuscule place between them to settle on Dean’s hip.
“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, leaning in. “But just to make sure you get it through your stubborn head: I love you, Cas. And I’ll fucking kill you if you ever do something like that again.”
Dean kisses him before Cas has a chance to reply.
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lilacstro · 1 day
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Astro observations pt 3
Trying to be a little consistent haha! Also, I suggest using astrology as a self development tool. While I do believe in fate and predictive astrology, I believe you still have free will for most parts in your life and how the cosmic energies playout for you can be hard to pin down since one single placement can have multiple meanings on how it is interpreted. If you have challenging aspects, you can DEFINATELY work your way through them and NO aspect or placement is bad or life ending ! phew, here we go
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1.I think, Uranus Trine Sun can give someone a very unpredictable nature.
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2.Uranus in your Second house SR can give you an unpredictable year in your finances. But, if uranus is in harmonious aspects with Jupiter, you will be able to arrange money when needed.
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3. I have heard to check the major themes of your year, check where does your chart ruler(ruling planet of ascendant) lie in your SR.
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4.Mars in 7th house in synastry can mean the relationship could be very passionate, things could go fast, but it may end fast or unpredictable. (you can just subscribe to the first part if you like, nothing is absolutely set to happen :) )
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5.I always have an urge to become a professor after some point in my life regardless of the career i choose , and i found my asteroid academia(829) lies in my 10th house.
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6.Speaking of which, if you are considering to choose a major but struggle or are confused, it might be worth looking at where does your asteroid academia overall lie in your chart. I have found it to be useful. I can make a separate post on this one !
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7.People with Sun and Jupiter in 10th house// sun and jupiter in positive aspects could do really well in careers like Public policy and international law.
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8. The house and planet in your 5th house can determine the nature of you child/one of your children. Mars in 5th house? A physically active child, Sun in 5th house? An outgoing easy child. However, PLEASE CHECK THE DEGREES, I can make a post on weak degrees for each planet if you all like :)
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9. Mars square Sun people can have so much restlessness, like they cant be still. My brother has this placement and well, it is not easy to match his energy most of the times lol. Also, very impulsive.
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10.Mars in inharmonious aspects with Mercury could show you having problems expressing anger overall. for example
Opposition:
are probably passive aggressive. You might like lashing out? giving silent treatment? saying things you don't mean?
Square:
not saying anything at all, letting things slide even when they bother you? letting your anger build until you can't take it no more.
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11. Sun in 3rd/10th/6th/11th could be really talked about. Also can get fame on social media at some point in their life, or get easily famous on social media.
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12.Sun in 6th house could mean your co workers may see you in high regard and may like working under you.
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13.Jupiter in harmonious aspects with uranus grants you unexpected luck. Places you did not expect to have luck at. I have seen this manifest with my own eyes.
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14.Saturn in 7th house people give me the types people go to advice for. My sister has this. Another example of what different placements can mean. 7th house rules your relationship with people while Saturn is wisdom, discipline and guidance, your father in your birth chart.
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15.I have seen this analogy that, in your natal chart Saturn is the father, moon is the mother, while sun is the child. How to use this information? Want guidance, your most confident self? Your Saturn sign.
who you turn to when you are down? emotional? who you are on the inside as your most vulnerable self? how to take care of yourself when you are down? Your moon sign. I can make a post on this too, i think it should help? idk, y'all tell.
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16. Water mercuries may like writing poems and journals.
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17. I have this theory that your Jupiter placements and aspects can show you how to manifest things for yourself. This observation has worked for people in my family, but I can give examples. You can couple this information to create a manifestation ritual maybe.
Jupiter in 10th house: If someone close asks you, what are your plans? or what do you want? tell them (dont breach your privacy or if you dont feel like it DONT lmao, im talking about what ive seen working). Talk about your manifestation.
Jupiter in 8th house: Keep it hidden, dont tell anyone until it manifests, have a positive self talk
Jupiter in 12th house: Visualize it, meditate, think about it as if you have it
Jupiter 3rd house: maybe create a manifestation journal and forget
Jupiter in 9th house: Pray if you believe. Be extremely optimistic about it, fake it till you make it thing.
Jupiter at mercurial signs/degrees/positively aspecting mercury: speak it in existence
I can again make a post on this if you all like.
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18. Your chiron placement in your SR is very important. The house it is in would tell you where you will hurt BUT grow. I read someone saying the North Node represents this part of learning, but i respectfully disagree.
I had Neptune AND chiron in my 11th house in SR, and this really amplified the learning experience that came regrading my deceiving friends, how i use social media, and who am i choosing to entertain, all at once. Its scary.
I am really considering making a SR series but i am unsure if its relevant dont know why. (not me giving myself post recommendations all throughout this post lol)
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thats all for today, i am very sleepy, I hope you enjoyed this <33
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jasmineoolongtea · 17 hours
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― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
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― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡
contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!
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gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.
"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.
he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you wanted to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.
as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.
you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.
"noisy, aren't we?"
"oh shut up."
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geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.
you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.
you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.
"so what does this make us?"
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nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.
he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.
silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.
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kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.
"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.
you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.
"never been more sure."
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fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.
you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.
even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.
"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"
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itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.
every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.
one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.
if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.
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okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.
cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.
his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.
despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.
right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.
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pep reads: long fics edition – gojo satoru (pt.1)
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚ Here are some loooooong fic recommendations for when you just need to get lost for a bit. These ones just made me absolutely binge and DEVOUR their fics in one sitting. Thank you to all of the authors for feeding us and sharing their talent!
Part one for gojo since there's so much love for him (and rightfully so!) Might do a list for geto too in the future. Which ones did you enjoy? Let's gush together!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS
“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”
☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard
“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"
--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.
☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg
You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.
It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED
Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.
The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?
He curses his own bloodline, of course.
It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.
It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?
Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.
He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.
(here's a spoiler: you do).
☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic
"satoru. where did you get these kids?"
or
after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.
☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.
You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus!
☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
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rosedom · 1 day
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Consider, male Naga reader (with character of your choice because I'm indecisive) using our tail to wrap around the character and hold him down as we pleasure him because he's really sensitive and keeps subconsciously trying to wiggling out of our affections even thought he very much likes what's going on and is completely consenting 🤔 Maybe, it's our first time with the character (or at all/vise versa). Size difference would be so hot with this, too, don't you think? Perhaps, we're eating him out, perhaps were dicking him down- either way it would be very hot. Wait, what about a stomach bulge because that could be either our penis or our tongue since snakes have longue tongues. Also, think about how a forked tongue would probably feel on his insides 😵‍💫. I'm kind of rambling, I think, but what about like a hissing pronunciation if we ever say a word with an 's' in it and we could also have scales on parts of our body besides our tail? We could even be able to open our jaw super wide, too! Hehe, I'm going to stop, now. Sorry if this didn't make a bunch of sense, by the way!! English is my second language and I'm more used to speaking it than writing it; the punctuation is the only thing I'm confident about 😶‍🌫️
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"an unnamed player has invited SHIKANOIN HEIZOU to play . . . a practice of form
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, naga!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!heizou, he's j human, cunnilingus, vaginal/anal fingering/sex, size difference + stomach bulge, creampie, aftercare implied but not written .
A/N : it made perfect sense, don't worry !! i hope what i wrote does . . .
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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There are perks to being a naga. There's the sensitivity of your tastebuds, for one, and the way warmth can seep into you oh-so easily.
So, really, it only makes sense for your tongue—this long, forked thing—to delve across the contours of Heizou’s body. He squirms under you, breathless, the heat of his blush seeping into you. Like this, you could simply swallow him up. 
“Ssso warm, mm,” you murmur, all tipsy-like off of his body. 
You’ve been absolutely aching for his warmth recently, the blood in your veins far too chilled to provide you any comfort; after all, the sun’s been hiding behind the clouds all week, and with its disappearance comes a pain that you can feel in your bones.
It’s lucky, then, that your partner doubles as your own personal heater. Even though he wields Anemo, he runs warm: many a time, Heizou’s created small gusts of winds to cool him down (or, alternatively, warm you up.
Your favorite remains skin-to-skin, though; or, rather, skin-to-scale. Is that even a thing?). 
“And you’re so colddd,” Heizou whines, squirming away—that is, until your tail wraps around his middle and successfully pins him in place. He visibly gulps. 
The bob of his throat is irresistible, and you lean down to lick at him there, too. It's so warm, here, tucked into his throat like this, the heat emanating from the thin surface of his skin down to his veins, to the heavy thrum of his pulse.
“You said you could take me like this,” you coo against him. “Backing down now, little detective o’ mine?” 
He pouts and says, “Of course not;” and in his eyes is nothing but bare want.
(“I can take you,” Heizou had said, all that time ago.
You had him wrapped up in your human arms, your markedly human legs tangled with him, and it was, for all intents and purposes, a normal night—the two of you, curled up together, the soft hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. 
That is, until Heizou broke that sea of tranquility with that one dirty promise.
“I dunno, Hei,” you had murmured. You had hesitated, at first, trying desperately to deny the heat that you felt in your belly at it. For a man with cold blood, you swore it had singed, right then and there, with him squirming in your lap, all those naughty fantasies of his running around in that smart lil’ head. 
And, as you thought of little, you murmured, “You’re just—you’re so little that I fear I would hurt you.”
“No pain, no gain.” He had laughed, but you went on and pinched the humor out of him. 
“No, Heizou.”
...
Obviously, you acquiesced in the end; and you can’t deny how much the idea aroused you, even back then. After all, Heizou, sat up in your lap like that—he had certainly felt the swell of your cock.)
“Okay,” you murmur, finally, the silence—save for Heizou’s barely-laborious breath, from the heartbeat that pounds in your ears—broken, “but you will tell me when it hurtsss, won't you?” 
He scoffs. “You won't let it hurt.” 
Your heart does something silly, a hiss crawling from your throat that you smother into his bare throat. “You’ve never taken me like thisss before, Hei, I can't promisss—” and then his lips are on yours, devilish little tongue probing into the “o” of your gasp. 
His tongue—this small, cute thing compared to yours—licks across your palate before you regain your bearings, the muscle swiping your breath as you take control again. He melts easily when you wrap your tongue around his, teasing and tickling his mouth as you bully your way into his, instead. You can taste a hint of the chicken katsu he had earlier in his spit, dragging your tongue through his mouth in a desperate bid to swallow him right up. 
You pull back at that. “S-sssorry,” you murmur, embarrassed. You knew your instincts were strong, but—
“Quit apologizing, babe.” Even as arousal simmers in his eyes—heady enough to taste, and, oh, how you want to—, his emerald irises are gentle, soft. “I’m into it, okay? And I’ll tell you if—” he looks at you pointedly, “—you hurt me.”
Melting into the hands he has beneath your jaw, you sigh, nodding. “Okay,” you repeat. “Okay.” 
He grins this toothy thing, then, and tries to scoot aside, tries to get out from under you; but what neither of you expect is the way your chest aches, the way your tail lashes out and curls tight around his middle to keep him firm in the coil you’ve wrapped him in. Even through your thick skin—covered in emerald scales, some spanning the width of a small nail to an entire hand—, you can feel the erratic pitter-patter of Heizou’s pulse. 
He is trapped, and he loves it.
“If I’m going to fuck you like this—” you let your words hang in the air, your breath fanning hot across his blushing face, “—then you’re going to be a good boy for me and ssstay exactly where I leave you.”
He says nothing.
“Heizou, darling,” you coo as you lean down—just enough for him to go a little bit cross-eyed—, his lips parting for a kiss that never comes. “Did you hear me?”
When he nods, you tut. “Words, please.” 
“Yeah,” he whispers, slow, and his tongue darts out to lick across his dry lips. “Won't you kiss me?”
Who are you to deny him? Immediately, your eyes soften, and you lean in quick to pepper kisses across his face before you land on his lips. His arms wrap around your neck as you do so, and he squirms, body twisting in the grasp of your tail; yet even as he writhes, you admit, he does stay still. He never makes like he's trying to leave your embrace; he’s merely overwhelmed by the sensation of you throughout his body. 
Soon enough, you're leaning back, chuckling at the way Heizou tries to chase your lips. You squeeze him, though, preventing him from doing so. 
He pouts. “Why'd you stop?” 
“I can't sssuck your cock if my mouth’s busssy kissing you, sssilly,” you coo, but you do lean back in for a quick, parting peck. 
Heizou’s certainly not complaining anymore. “O-oh,” he murmurs, nodding rather dumbly. You gently grin at him before, with the help of your tail—and absolutely no help at all from the man himself, manhandling him as if he weren’t over a hundred pounds of limber muscle—, laying him flat on his back. Like this, your tail acts like the perfect support for his lower back—with the added benefit of leaving him fully exposed for your greedy sight, your salivating tongue. 
“You're ssso gorgeousss.” You run your hands—cold, scales brushing across his flanks—down his sides, fingernails barely-there marks of white that fade quickly. 
Eventually, you tire of the same motions; so instead, you lean down, holding yourself up by your forearms, and lick at his skin, at the moles dotted across his torso. 
He squirms again, then: “You’re—” he giggles, “—you’re tickling me!”
Though it’s far from the first time you’ve ever licked your sweet partner—and, truly, the taste of him is nothing but sweet across your tongue—, Heizou still can’t seem to get used to the sensation. Though, to be fair, you’re not exactly playing fair, here: with each swipe of your tongue, you tease the forked end of it in small circles, the tips terribly ticklish. 
“‘m sssorry, lovely,” you say, not sorry at all. You squeeze his middle again, once, this gentle thing that forces a shaky breath of air ricocheting from his chest; and, speaking of chest: “God, you’re divine.” You trace the ragged scar that sits below his chest—on his heart’s side, closest to where it steadily beats for you—with your tongue, delighting in the way Heizou is torn between pressing his chest into you and saying away from the attention. 
Soon enough, you slide over to the other side of his torso, letting your tongue rake across the twin scar there, too. One of his hands comes and tangles itself in your hair, and he lightly tugs to pull you away from his skin; you succumb to his pull, but only after nipping at his nipple. (He can hardly feel it, anyway, but it's the thought that counts.)
“Stop teasing,” he says before his hand falls from your hair to rest against the tail you have curled around him. His hands are a welcome pressure against your scales, and you find yourself almost purring at the sensation. 
“Ssso hard already,” you murmur, lips brushing the ruddy head of him. You can feel his hips try and jump, but, held down as he is, he’s resolutely stuck in place. “Easy, easy—” you grin when you see the way your breath makes his cunt clench around nothing, his cock throb beneath your lips, “jusss’ relax. I’ll be gentle, jusss’ like I promisssed you, yeah?”
But, you decide your beloved is right: it is time to quit teasing. “Fine, fine,” you acquiesce, beginning to nose down his belly, nose rubbing through his faint happy trail. The hair’s soft against your cheek and well-groomed, leading down to the thatch of hair that hides that which you so adore: his cute, chubby cock. 
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, voice shaky in a way that is, really, so unlike him, the revered Shikanoin Heizou, detective. His voice never shakes like this, outside of this—and you love it, the possessive snake you are. (It’s a good thing Heizou loves it, else this would become awkward quick.) 
Every single time, you forget just how big Heizou is: his cock fills your mouth perfectly, its weight heavy on your tongue as you lave at it. Your tongue curls around it, once, twice, the forked tip of it rubbing incessantly against the head of it. Throughout it all, Heizou whimpers pitifully, hands twitching on your tail as he can’t quite decide whether to pull you away or pull you closer.
“Please—” he cries out, and you swear his cock grows thicker between your lips. Beneath it all—where your chin juts into his leaking cunt—, you can feel him clench erratically, cunt empty yet wanting so terribly for something to fill it up. “In me, in me, please, baby,” he begs. 
Around your mouthful of cock, you hum to the affirmative, delighting in his shrill cry; after, though, you slowly retract your tongue, letting it unravel from him bit-by-bit. The split at the end of your tongue rubs either side of him before you retreat fully, and then you’re fucking it into him, inch-by-inch, sliding in slow and easy, slick from him and your saliva combined. Your tongue—wholly in your control and rather sensitive at that—rubs against a swollen spot deep in his cunt, and he cries out, head falling back into the pillows as you press at it relentlessly. 
“Oh, oh, please—” When he’s drunk off pleasure like this, Heizou always begins to babble: it’s always nonsensical things, little pleas and pleads for more, more, more. “‘s so deep!”
“Mhm?” you hum against his cunt in reply, tongue deep ‘nuff in him that you begin to eye a small, barely-there bulge below his navel. A moan tumbles out of you at the revelation, one of your hands coming up to press into it. The pressure makes Heizou scream.
“Fuck!” he yells, hands scrabbling for the one you have pressed on his belly. He thrashes, writhes, and you only grin against him, tongue bullied in deep; but, oh, you can go deeper, can’t you?
The perks of being a naga, you suppose. 
You hum a soft warning against his blushing cunt before you gently crack open your jaw, letting your mouth fall open impossibly further. Heizou makes a wrecked sound when he realizes just what it is you’re doing before it grows louder, the sensation of your tongue going even deeper making him sob. If your eyes weren’t closed—if you weren’t enjoying this meal so terribly—, you’d notice the fat tears slipping down his cheeks.
Alas, you can kiss them away later. With your jaw cracked open like this, you’re able to run the base of your tongue against the hot jut of his cock as the end of it undulates inside of him, thrusting shallowly; but you’re favorite part? 
Speaking of your cock—it’s, frankly, this ridiculous thing, long and thick and the same emerald color as your tail. It alone, however, is hardly anything noteworthy; no, instead, it's the fact that you have two in this form. It's these two twin cocks that scared you so, and it's those two twin cocks that urge you to pull out the fingers you've got knuckle-deep in Heizou’s cunt to press them, one-by-one, into his ass. 
The way the added space gives you plenty of room to slide a finger below your own mouth, adding one, two, three fingers into his cunt as your tongue bullies relentlessly at the front of his walls. Like this, you can’t curl your fingers very well—not without uncomfortably jabbing through your own tongue—, but you can stretch him plenty and prepare him well enough for your cock.
His cunt would surely break with both of them. 
“‘m ready, please,” he mumbles, cries, reaching for your head to pull your face away from his cunt. You don't make the prettiest sight, jaw unhinged and stupidly long tongue lolling out of your mouth, but Heizou doesn't mind it. Besides, it's easy to click everything back in place, wipe away the slick and saliva that coats your chin, and reach for Heizou’s face with the hand that was in his cunt. The fingers of your other hand still work at his ass, loosening him up for you. 
“Mm,” you hum, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. “Now you are.” Your fingers leave him with a quiet pop, a sound that makes Heizou’s ears flame red. At his reaction, you gently laugh, nuzzling at his cheek. “Don't be embarrassssed,” you say, fumbling over the double s. (It’s hard enough saying anything with an “s” in it, thank you.” “‘sss hot.”  
He huffs at you. “Quit talking and fuck me,” he grumbles, before adding a quiet, “please,” when you lean back to look him in the eye. 
“Can’t fuck you ‘til you get my cocksss out, sssilly,” you murmur, taking him by the hand and guiding him to the soft scales beneath your belly. They're hardly noticeable, indistinguishable between the scales of your tail, but, like this, aroused and swollen, the slit of you is more apparent. As your fingers—and his—work in tandem, these small, gentle motions that get your cocks to peek out and grow, the relief of no longer being stuck inside you makes you hiss in pleasure. 
Once your cocks are out, though, your tail tugs at your lover’s middle in order to get him hovering above your lap. The mess between his thighs dribbles onto your cocks, mixing with your sticky pre-cum. “Go on,” you coo, “sssit on my cocks.” 
He gulps.
“We can ssstop at any time, lovely,” you add, but Heizou’s eyes turn hooded as he lifts his chin at you in challenge. “Alright!” 
Heizou, the minx, lowers his hips further, supported by your tail and your hands gripping at him, ‘til his cunt and ass brush your cocks, smearing your pre-cum between his thighs. He mewls when one of your cocks bump into his just right, and, for a moment, he lets himself grind against you, still terribly empty. “Please,” he murmurs, “Fill me, please, you promised—”
“I promisssed I’d be gentle, Hei,” you say, letting his body weight be held up entirely by your tail as your hand takes hold of your cocks, instead, slowly aiming them in, regardless of your chastising tone, “and ‘m not gonna go back on it just ‘cos you’re impatient. Be ssslow, okay?”
Finally, Heizou nods, letting you lead until your cockheads pop into him one at a time, first in his cunt and then in his ass. He moans at the stretch, his breath shaky, fresh tears budding up at his waterline and threatening to spill over when he begins to slide down, down, down. You’re not even halfway in when Heizou’s body seizes up, forcing your tail to wrap tight around him to keep him still lest he fall too quickly and hurt himself.
“You’re so big,” he manages through labored breaths, “fuck me, fill me, please, please—”
“Easy, lovely,” you mumble, taking over and drawing him off your cocks incrementally before tugging him back down, allowing him ample time to stretch with each gentle thrust until he’s fully seated on your lap, cunt and ass full to brimming. “There we go.
“Do you feel good?” you ask, tail keeping him upright as his body threatens to crumble with the pleasure of your cocks filling him. He’s so warm inside, and your cocks, normally as cold-blooded as the rest of you, absolutely singe with the heat emanating from him. 
In lieu of reply, though, Heizou tips his head up and begs you, oh-so sweetly, to “please, move.”
How could you resist? 
It’s hard (hah), moving Heizou in this form of yours. You’re scared of hurting him—of the scales across your skin nicking him, of your tail squeezing too tight, of your cocks stretching him too painfully—, yet he moans so prettily, so unabashedly, bouncing on you as the sweetest of melodies spill past his lips. Your tail dwarfs him, and you’re taken by the size difference between the two of you. So easily, you could snap his back; he could be your prey, but here he is, boneless with trust and pleasure in your lap.
“Please, please,” he begs, delirious, eyes open and heady, aimed at your lips. You lean in to kiss him, entranced by the way his eyes flutter shut as your face gets nearer to his. Like this, you can swallow up every one of his sweet moans, his delicate cries: it is delightful.
On one particular grind, though, paired with an adjustment of your tail around him, you feel a subtle bump against his abdomen: your cocks. Just like your tongue prodded through him earlier, so, too, are your cocks, enormous inside of his small body. He seems to notice it just as you do, leaning back from your lips with a loud gasp as a shiver wracks his frame. “Oh, oh—”
“You’re ssso sssmall,” you mumble, moving him quicker and quicker as he erratically clenches around you. Like this, he won’t even need his cock touched to tumble into orgasm; and it’s this thought that makes you realize how close you are, the rope in your belly terribly close to snapping. “‘m gonna cum,” you warn, leaning into his throat to lick at his salty skin. “Gonna cum in you, fill you up even more—”
Heizou’s mouth falls open. “I-I’m—” He tries to warn you, too, but it’s too late: his body tenses as his orgasm crests over him. The sight, the sounds—it all serves to make that knot snap, following close behind him in your own orgasm. 
The clench of his cunt and ass around your swollen cocks makes your orgasm feel like it goes on forever, cum spurting out of both twin heads and filling him up nice n’ heavy. He moans and mewls, whimpers and whines, clutching at you as his oversensitive holes cling to you. “Ssso good for me, lovely, Heizou, you were lovely,” you say, delirious, cocks softening and beginning to retract, sliding out of him and back into the scales below your belly. You’ll be sticky and messy inside, later, but for now, you’re worried about your beloved. 
He’s limp in your hold—the hold of your tail and hands both—, twitching every now and then at the way thick, opaque cum begins to dribble out of both of his used holes, smearing across his inner thighs and you. It’s going to be a bitch to clean up, you already know, but you merely sigh, tugging him closer into you until you’re pressed chest-to-chest and you’re laying on your back. 
“You did ssso good,” you repeat. “Was it what you wanted?”
He nods. “Everything I wanted and more,” he mumbles, voice barely-there. You grin.
It’s time to get used to this form: Heizou’s going to want to be fucked like this again soon. (Preferably in another week, though; he already won’t be able to sit tomorrow.)
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if u noticed any spelling or grammar errors, no u didn't. i hope this fulfilled your fantasies, anon !! >< this ask made me think sooooo hard . . . but i ultimately kinda-sorta burnt out, ergo why i didn't write an aftercare scene. it is there, though: aftercare is the most important part of sex !!
don't forget to support palestine with your free, daily click.
2 JUN. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
216 notes · View notes
chunghasweetie · 20 hours
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𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x gangsta!jjk
— summary | gangsta jk wants to crash at her place but she got a lil some up her sleeve
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
cussing, angst, smut, unprotected sex, illegal activities, gun play, mention of head, oc gets fucked with a gun, whining, cum eating, dirty talk.
— word count | 3.9k words
— song suggestion | gangsta (orchestra ver) —kehlani
It was the same thing everyday.
Work, go home, sleep.
Nothing ever changed and it had been like that for way too long.
She needed to switch things up somehow but she didn’t even have the energy to think of what could solve her issues.
Until he came along.
The two met at the liquor store randomly at around 2am. They reached for the same bottle, chuckling at the similar intention.
She immediately caught his eye. Which was surprising to her since she was in her pajamas with messy hair and no makeup.
He asked for her number and they had little meetups here and there.
He was so secretive and mysterious about what he was doing. Not in a gross, womanizer way. In a way that made her want to learn more about him.
He was ‘Jeon’ in her phone. She didn’t even have his full name.
He was inked up in tattoos. Tall and definitely bulky with muscle all over him. He was crafted beautifully.
He had a nice car. She noticed the extremely dark tint and possibly illegal modifications applied to the vehicle.
She had no clue what kind of job he worked or what he did in his day to day life.
Until one day he finally told her. He was the Jeon Jungkook that had been on the run for multiple crimes and ran a large gang in the city.
And she’d been fucking him the entire time.
He knew from the start she wouldn’t turn him in. He had her wrapped around her finger.
He knew all about her dilemma. How she needed that change in her life.
He was more than willing to provide that escape.
She craved something new, and he was just the man to give it to her.
“Let me come over baby.” He spoke on the other line. “Miss you.”
She was on her couch, biting her lip.
She knew he was not a good man at all. She knew that from the beginning. For years she promised herself she’d never be associated with any one of the sort.
Always following the rules got so boring.
“Don’t be like that.” Jungkook hummed. “I just wanna see you. You don’t want to see me Y/n?”
His voice was so dominant and demanding. He was strict and for right to it.
He somehow was able to have his own phone number that was untraceable by the police.
He was crazy good at avoiding getting caught.
“Okay.” Y/n gave in.
“Mm knew you’d be smart about this.” Jungkook chuckled to her, hanging up and getting in his car to head to her apartment.
She tilted her head back on her couch, sighing.
She didn’t think it would come to this. She thought things like this only happened in stories or in the movies.
This was the last thing she was thinking about. She couldn’t help herself though.
How could she? Jungkook may have been a criminal but he was so hot.
His voice was like a pied piper.
She was so drawn to him. His looks, his charisma, his body, everything.
She wouldn’t call it love. She couldn’t call it love. It was mere attraction and that’s all she labeled it as.
She always thought he looked like he was straight out of a TV show. Although he was rough around the edges, he was super sweet and caring considering what his lifestyle was like.
“Open up mama! Cold as fuck out here!” He yelled out, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Jungkook was at her apartment door, dressed in his white tank and tan cargo pants. His tank emphasized his muscular, tattooed arms so well.
He had a bouquet of roses in his hand, waiting for his girl to answer the door.
He was always doing such romantic gestures for her. There would be nights he wouldn’t want to do anything sexual. Simply coming over to spend time with her.
Once Y/n opened the door, he couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.
“Well look at you.” His eyes moved from the bottom to the top of her body. “Gorgeous.” He stepped in, immediately wrapping his arms around her once she shut the door.
She took a silent inhale. He smelt so damn good.
Maybe it was something in the cologne he was wearing that made her so attached to him. His scent instantly sent her into a trance.
“Hey.” Y/n replied. “Was just about to make dinner.”
“You were?” He mumbled against her neck. “Make me something baby.”
She nodded, agreeing. “You’re gonna have to let go of me.”
“Ugh fine.” He groaned. “Spending the night again. Cops looking for me alllll over.”
He knew they’d never find him, but the excuse always worked.
“That’s fine.” She nodded.
She did get anxious when he’d say things like that.
He was a fugitive and she was keeping him in her home.
Jungkook went up to her room, getting comfy in the clothes he already had over there.
She had started cooking for the both of them, making some chicken and rice dish she seen online.
As Y/n focused on her cooking, Jungkook was leaning back on the counter, simply staring at her.
“I like this.”
“You like what?” She blinked.
“Seeing you all domestic and shit.” He chuckled.
“I’m just cooking dinner.” She smiled.
“Mm it’s more than that.” He chuckled. “Making me a nice meal, having clean clothes for me, gonna tuck me into bed later. Love when we play house like this Y/n.”
She blushed. “I guess it is nice.”
“Food smells good.” Jungkook inhaled. “You smell better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I’m wearing that perfume you bought me last week.” She told him as she was making his plate.
“Oh really? It smells even better than it did in the store.” He hummed against her neck. “You’re wearing the jewelry I bought you too.”
“Of course. Never taking it off.” She chuckled.
“Good. If I’m iced out my girl gotta be too.” He planted a kiss on her neck.
“Well it’s very nice to be spoiled like this.” She giggled, handing him his plate. “Now go eat while it’s hot.”
He removed his body from hers, taking a seat at the table.
“Taste test it baby.” She told him, “I’ll start eating in a minute.”
He nodded, trying the food.
“How is it? Good?”
"Good's an understatement. Shit's fucking amazing, baby." He takes another bite and watches her.
“Yay! Happy you like it.” Y/n replied from the kitchen, trying to clean up some of her mess.
"You ain't made yourself a plate yet? Come here and sit." He looked over at her.
“Okay okay.” She nodded, getting a beer from the fridge for him. She made herself a plate finally and sat down at the table.
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest after she set the beer down in front of him. "Ain't no one else gonna take care of me like this. I’m lucky to have you.”
“You are.” She laughed. “Doubt any of those other girls know how to care of you.”
“What other girls?” He rose his eyebrow. “Jealous of the girls I’m around?”
“How could I not be?” She questioned. “I just don’t understand.”
He smirks as he picks up the beer and takes a long swig, his throat moving as he swallows.
“Don’t understand what?”
“Why you stick around me.” She spoke. “There’s girls who do the same shit you do. You and your boys go out and there’s strippers and bottle girls. I’m a regular ass person.”
He frowned at her, looking honestly confused. "What the fuck you talking about mama?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair and shook his head.
"I chose you because of you. Fuck all these other bitches. You're the only one who can handle my shit." He said honestly.
“That can’t just be it.” She shook her head.
“So what? You think I’m just in it for a good fuck?”
“That’s not— exactly it.” She sighed.
She could tell he’s growing a bit irritated but it was bugging her.
She knew guys hated that sappy shit. But she couldn’t help that she was getting her emotions get in the way.
He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at her from across the table before speaking.
"Then fucking tell me, Y/n. What is it?" He asked, his voice growing softer but still holding onto that edge of annoyance.
“Forget it. Nevermind.” She sighed, finishing her food and taking her plate to the sink to wash it.
He watched her finish her food and take the plate to the sink. "You can't start a conversation like that and then drop it, babe." He said.
He began walking up behind her as she washed the plate. "You wanna know why I'm with you?
“I just want to know what we’re doing here. You’ve been coming over for months now and you’re doing all these romantic things for me and I just want to know what’s up.” She spoke honestly.
He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist gently, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I like you here, like this. I like showing you a good time, you know?" He turned her around in his arms and gazed down at her.
“What does that even mean” She mumbled as she washed plates.
He lifted a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing against it gently. "It means I like being with you, mama. It feels...right.”
He leaned in closer to her, eyes searching hers. "I like spoiling you, taking care of you. Feels different than anyone before..."
As much as she wanted to pester him more about the subject, she didn’t say anything else.
He seemed to notice the hesitance and smiled softly, ducking his head to press a soft kiss against her lips. "You don't gotta overthink it, Y/n. It's just...good, okay? You know I love you.”
She finished up the dishes, putting them away to dry.
He watched her for a moment, before moving to her side and starting to help her with cleaning.
His hand brushed against yours, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Y/n, it's okay. I promise you." He whispered, leaning in to press another kiss against her temple. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” She thanked him. Her lips curved into a smile. “I mean it is cute to see this buff tattooed bad guy get all sappy and shit for me for me.”
He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes crinkling up with amusement. "You better not tell anyone" He threatened, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. "You love it though...”
“I guess I do.”
He laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I know you do." He whispered, his arms tightening around her as he let out a content sigh. "You're the only one who gets to see this side of me.”
“I’ll consider myself lucky then.” She laughed. “I was successfully able to tame the beast.”
He chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to her neck, holding his arms tighter around her.
"You did more than tame the beast, baby...you own me completely. Shit, you could put a leash and collar on my ass anytime." He whispered hotly against her neck, his lips ghosting over her skin as he spoke.
She couldn’t help but laugh at his joke.
“I could keep you laughing and satisfied all day, if you'll just let me." He mumbled.
“Oh I’d let you anyyyy day of the week.” She laughed. “See what you’ve done to me?”
“I haven’t done shit baby that was all you.” He chuckled.
“Whatever.”
"Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever you say, baby." He picked her up effortlessly, “Let’s go upstairs hm?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” She agreed, allowing him to take her.
He chuckled, lifting her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs as he kissed her thighs and gave your ass a playful squeeze. "Look at you...so fucking fine. You know I can't resist."
“Oh my gosh Jungkook.” She blushed as they got inside her room.
"That's right, babe. I got you...right where I want you." He tossed her onto the bed before crawling up to her body, kissing and nibbling at her neck. "If only these walls could talk..."
“Jungkook!” She hid her face in embarrassment, getting flashbacks of all the different things they had done in her room.
"Oh come on, don't hide from me now, Y/n." He kissed her cheek as he caressed her face.
"Do you remember the first time we fucked in this room?" Jungkook smirked and laughed. "You were begging for my cock, mama.”
“That’s not what happened!” She instantly denied.
Jungkook laughed harder, his eyes shining mischievously.
"Oh yes, you were mama don’t play! And when you finally got it you were screaming your lungs out. Kept going on and on about how it was the best sex you’ve ever had…” He continued, not giving her the chance to speak.
“This is so humiliating.” She groaned, hiding her face in embarrassment by flipping the blanket over her face.
Jungkook tugged the blanket down a little, showing her face again. "Don't be shy, Y/n. I fucking loved it when I made you scream my name. And made you cum on the first try?" He crawled on top of her again, his knees on either side of her hips.
“You’re so annoying.”
Jungkook chuckled. "That's not what you were saying when I had my cock in your mouth, babe."
His eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned down to kiss her. "I can make you forget all about your embarrassment again, if you want?"
“How’re you going to do that?” She asked, playing dumb.
Jungkook kissed her slowly, running his tongue along the edge of her lips.
He reached down between her legs and began rubbing, his touch firm and confident. "Do I need to give you a reminder right now?"
He immediately earned a soft moan from her, making him to smirk to himself.
Jungkook smiled mischievously, his fingers never leaving that soft spot between her thighs.
"That's a good girl. Just like that." He began driving his fingers in rhythm with his tongue, letting out a moan of his own. "Is this better, Y/n?”
“Mhm!” She moaned, nodding her head quickly.
Jungkook chuckled against her lips, picking up the pace at her small moan.
"You're fucking soaked, you know that, right mama?" His voice was low, amused. "Looks like I can still make you wet."
She could feel his gun pressed against her from his waistband. It drove her fucking insane with lust.
Jungkook felt her press closer, rubbing against his gun. He smirked at her before moving his hand, placing the gun in plain sight for her.
"See something you like, babe?" He said with a chuckle, twirling it around his finger.
“I-I feel it.” She croaked. She had always been curious about his gun in ways she never thought she was the type to fantasize about.
Jungkook grinned, setting it down gently. "Wanna touch it, babe?" His voice was low and inviting.
He took a step back, giving her room to move. "Just be careful, though. It's loaded." He teased.
She nodded quietly, “I do.”
Jungkook watched her grab the gun, letting you get a feel for its weight. He didn't interrupt, just watch her curiously.
"You like?" He asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you have some kind of fetish for guns."
“I- um.” She swallowed, “Something like that? Well I’ve never done anything but— I’ve been curious.” She handed his gun back to him.
Jungkook took the gun carefully, his smirk growing into a full-on grin. "I knew it."
He whispered seductively. "Why don't we test out that curiosity of yours?" He suggested with a raise of his eyebrow.
“How?”
Jungkook pulled her a little bit closer, his free hand wandering up her side before resting on the edge of her waist.
"Do you want me to fuck you with it? How does that sound?" He smirked, unloading the gun in front of her. He places the gullets on her nightstand.
She nodded, letting a quiet ‘please’ slip from her lips.
Jungkook let out a low growl at her response, his grip on the gun tightening.
"You like that idea, Y/n?" He asked. His free hand wandered to the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it upwards. "Lay back."
She didn’t hesitate to do so, laying back.
Jungkook bit his lip seductively as he looked down at her, the gun clicking gently in his fingers. "Fuck, yes." He said admiringly.
He bit his lip, placing the gun down in a position of reach before trailing his fingers lower and low on her stomach.
Her pussy was sopping wet with need. Her core aching as she watched the now unloaded gun in his hand.
Jungkook watched her with a lustful gaze as he heard her words, biting his lip again before placing the gun on her lip.
"You're so fucking wet for me already, huh? Mama so ready to get fucked with my gun huh baby?" He asked.
“So pretty Y/n.” His hand sliding lower still until he could feel her wetness. “Get the gun all nice and wet for me baby.”
She kept her gaze on him, spitting and sucking on the muzzle the gun like she was told to.
Jungkook groaned at the sight, glancing down at her almost hungrily. "Fucking hell you're such a hungry little girl, y'know that?"
Jungkook couldn't resist her whiny plea any longer, as he pulled the gun out of her mouth.
He lined the gun muzzle up with her entrance. He slowly slid the gun inside of her, gasping at the sight.
A gasp and an ‘oh fuck’ left her lips. Once adjusted, she instantly melted into the feeling, a moan leaving her lips.
It felt better than how she ever could’ve imagined it to be.
Jungkook groaned at her reaction, watching as he slowly slid the gun in and out of her.
"Fuck Y/n you're loving this aren't you? You're such a slut for my gun and I just now put it in you.” He chuckled.
“J-Jungkook” She moaned out his name, biting her lip. “Fuck that feels good.”
With her voice echoing his name, Jungkook lost control of his actions.
He began thrusting the gun in and out of her faster, even pulling her legs over his shoulders.
"Shit you like watching me fuck your pussy with my gun huh?” He spoke to her. “Been practically humping me for weeks. All that to get to my gun huh baby?”
It was so true.
Whenever they made out she would get super close and grind herself on the imprint of his gun. She almost could cum off just rubbing against it.
“Oh fuck yes!” She whined, “Jungkook I fucking love this.”
Jungkook loved her weak voice. Watching her squirm only made him plunge the gun faster.
"Looking so good taking it in. I wanna fuck you all day like this." He whispered seductively in her ear, sucking on her bottom lip.
Her wetness coated the gun, “F-Fuck oh my gosh” She whimpered. “A-All this time I— Fuck” She could hardly talk.
With the gun still inside of her, Jungkook grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.
"All this time you wanted my gun? Every day I'd bend you over and plow you right... fucking... here..." He grunted. “But this gun was all you really wanted hm?”
“Mmm I— just wanted it so bad jungkook you don’t understand.” She quivered her lip.
A smirk appeared on his face as he began to thrust the gun harder and deeper inside her.
"I understand now baby. I know how badly you wanted it." He growled, grabbing her hips with both hands.
Jungkook smirked, thrusting the gun even harder, making her whimper. "You're such a dirty little slut for me. That's right baby, tell me how much you need my gun to get off.”
“Jungkook please— Feels so fucking good. Never had anything like this. Mm— such a slut.” She was rambling.
The way the gun was penetrating her made her whine with pleasure as it stretched her in the best way possible.
“Came so— so many times. Just from the thought.” She kept going. “Fuck— I was changing the sheets every damn hour”
His cocky grin widened as he pressed the gun deeper, his other hand traveling down to her soaked pussy.
He teased her clit with his fingers, "That's my girl. I want you soaked for me every damn hour.”
“Fuck— You’re killing me.” The double stimulation overwhelmed her.
"Is that too much for you baby? Can't handle it?" He chuckled, thrusting the gun harder, before pressing his fingers deeper, curling them to hit her g-spot.
She gasped again, gripping onto the sheets. “I-I can just— Shit it’s too fucking good” She cursed, grabbing onto her breast with her other hand.
"You love it, don't you baby? When I take control like this." He leaned down, pressing his lips against her ear. "I own every inch of you, and you fucking know it. Whether it’s my cock or my gun.”
She was milking his gun with her juices, whimpering and whining. The gun was fucking her absolutely stupid.
“D-Don’t think I can take any more.” She managed to get out, “W-Wanna cum on the gun”
Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as he continued to thrust the gun into her, pulling the trigger back twice.
The empty clicks filling the room, while he got to touch her throbbing pussy. "You want to cum, huh mama?”
“Jungkook please” She begged him to cum. The sounds of the empty clicks driving her insane.
“You're crazy mama. Absolutely insane." He groaned.
He pulled the trigger back one last time, hearing the empty click after he was spent.
“Jungkook please! I want to cum so bad!” tears of pleasure ran down her cheeks.
"You're more desperate than I thought." Jungkook grabbed her hair, pulling hard as his other hand began rubbing your needy little clit hard.
"Cum on the gun Y/n."
She didn’t waste a second, letting her juices flow and drop down the gun barrel.
He felt his cock twitch at her screams as she came, splashing hot cum all over his hand and the gun.
"Good fucking girl. Now clean this shit up.” He aimed the muzzle of the gun facing her mouth.
“W-What? You want me to clean it?”
“That's what I said." He replied with a snarl as he began stroking his cock again, dripping wet cum from the tip of it.
She obeyed him, sucking and licking her cum off of the gun. She dragged her tongue all over the barrel, looking into his eyes as she did so.
His hands gripped the gun tightly as he watched her sucking and licking her cum off. It was perverted as hell, but his cock was twitching again.
His eyes darkened, and he felt his cock twitch at her words, the sight of her on her knees with his cum mixing with hers.
"I know.." He purred as he pulled the gun away from your her. "Now come here. I got something else for you to suck.”
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asapeveryday · 7 hours
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YOU BELONG TO SOMEBODY ELSE
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Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader
Warnings: smut, cheating (not on reader tho!!)
Summary: having a crush on someone who’s taken is complicated. Doesn’t stop you though! (I’m sorry)
A/n: was gonna be a Paige fic buttttt I’m in a Nika mood. ALSO PLS DONT HATE ME FOR THIS. It’s based off of a request +this song, I thought the concept was entertaining. I love Nika and her bf. This is fiction. Pls chill on me.
HER BREATH, harsh against your neck as she presses herself against you is enough to make your head spin.
She’s leaning half her weight on you, laughing against your skin at how you stiffen up. To Nika, it’s probably because she’s gross and sweaty. She doesn’t know it’s more because her touch prompts you to think thoughts you can’t shouldn’t think of her.
“You’re slow today.” She says cheerfully. “Don’t tell me you’re slacking now, baby.”
You almost shudder at the pet name but recollect yourself. “Since you’re so pumped up you shouldn’t need my support.” You scoff, playfully shoving the Croatian girl off of you. She fakes a stumble but gracefully catches herself.
“Careful! If I get hurt then you’re gonna hear from Geno.” She smiles.
You just shake your head, grinning to yourself. “Your bitching and moaning is ten times worse than the old man.”
The two of you walk around for a while. This was your usual routine, running your favourite trail twice a week, then walking for a bit before grabbing a bite to eat. Routine or not, it also happened to be your favourite part of the week.
Why wouldn’t it be? Seeing Nika like this; tight shorts stopping mid thigh, sports bra exposing her toned body and flashy belly piercing, hair pulled into a tight ponytail, giving you perfect access to the beauty that is her face.
Running with her meant being able to look at her without others around to notice, it meant listening to her breathing quicken and slow, or holding your own breath when she’d slightly pull up the edge of her shorts to examine the accumulating colour on her already tan skin.
To say you had a crush was an understatement.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “when’s your next game?”
Did you know when the next game was? Of course. You knew when all her games were.
“Day after tomorrow.” She grins, tilting her head signalling you to prepare for a question. “Am I gonna see you at this one?”
“Nika..” you force out a sigh. “Such bad timing. I have a thing.”
She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrow now, the look in itself is not alien to you yet still incites a drop in your stomach. You hate disappointing her time after time.
“Seriously? How do you manage to have a thing every single time I have a game?”
You shrug. “I’m sorry, Niks.” You frown, not lying. “I wish I could go,” again, not lying “but stuff just keeps coming up.” ok, now you’re lying.
She doesn’t say anything, just eyes you suspiciously.
“I might be free after though.” You sneak in hopefully.
“Fuck yeah!” She squeals, slapping your back. “Cus’ when we win imma need you right next to me partying.”
You smile at her hand on you, at her happiness with your presence.
“Wanna go eat now?” You ask. “I’m starving.”
A car pulls up by the curb the two of you walk through and lets out a slight honk.
Now Nika’s face scrunches up. “Oh (Name), totally my bad, I forgot to tell you I’m going out to eat with my man today.”
Fuck your man. “Thats okay Niks.” You say. “All good.”
“It’s alright anyways. I’ll be seeing you Friday night after we win, and hey, at least try to watch the game online!”
And with that you watch her scurry off towards the passenger seat and happily jump in, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek and buckling her seatbelt. Her boyfriend waves at you slightly, aware of your friendship with Nika but not so aware of your infatuation. You want to scowl, but you force a smile.
You’re there standing, watching as the car pulls away and starts on the road. You don’t miss how Nika turns around to hold your eye until the car fades out of your vision.
-
You don’t know how much longer you can do this.
How much longer can you go on with this? With overthinking every lingering touch, restraining yourself at the sound of her voice, finding ways to run into her, knowing her schedule, being there for her wins and losses, wishing ill on her perfectly boring friendly boyfriend.
With every stride of her muscular legs beside yours, matching your pace, synchronized breathing, eyes meeting each other on perfect timing every time, you refuse to miss how she begs for your presence at important events. She refuses to miss how you freeze at the sheer mention of her partner.
She’s moody when you arrive at the bar. It’s different from the usual post-game celebration spot, less frat-like and more artsy. Warm lighting, hip hop blasting, decor littered fittingly with NBA and WBNA players.
You can see her clearly, leaning against the bar with her arms crossed, her drink half full on the counter behind her. She smiles when Paige shoves her playfully, but it fades as soon as the blonde turns her back.
You swallow the thought that she’s like that because she thinks you’re not gonna show. You know if you encourage things like that, it’ll only get ahead of your better judgment.
That being said, you were sure to dress exactly how she likes sexy. Hair done with intricacy that almost warranted a breakdown, makeup natural and with intention, clothing showing off how hard you’ve worked on those long runs. The way her lips slightly part at the sight of you is enough to short circuit your brain.
Ignoring how her friends seem to share looks at your presence, you slide up beside her as smoothly as possible before taking a sip of her drink.
“Good game.” You smile.
“You watched it?”
“I always do.”
“Yet you never come.” She scoffs.
“I can’t.” You say through gritted teeth, and it’s the truth. If you saw her play in real life it’d only make you want her more. “But I’m here now.”
You bump shoulders with her. “I’m here to celebrate my Nika.”
“Your Nika, huh.” She turns to you, lips turning upwards into a dangerous smirk.
Before you can respond, Paige is beside you. Her cheeks are unnaturally pink and she’s laughing up a storm that only screams intoxication. “Last I heard this was a team celebration.” She grins. “We love you and all, but why’re you here?”
You’re embarrassed and unsure what to say, but Nika immediately speaks up.
“Cus’ I want her here.” She quips, not too hostile but still enough to get the message across. With her quick words and beautifully furrowed brows she’s practically written BACK OFF in sharpie on Paige’s forehead.
“Aight, aight.” Paige chuckles, hands raised in surrender. Her teammates just shake their heads, and soon enough everyone disperses.
Getting drunk with Nika was a rare but amazing once in a while occurrence. She was not the type to be irresponsible, but the two of you were approaching a dangerous zone after an hour or so of talking and drinking. She couldn’t get a word out without laughing, and you couldn’t stop bouncing your leg to distract yourself from pouncing on her right then and there in front of all the other college kids.
“Have you ever thought of cheating?” She finally manages to hack out between giggles. You’re in a daze at the question, it’s too much to handle combined with her flushed face and batting eyelashes.
“Cheating…like on my partner.”
“Pfft, yes, who the fuck else?” She throws her head back. “Have you even dated? I never see you with anyone.”
“I’ve dated.” You say curtly, downing your drink and ordering another. “My last girlfriend was five months ago.”
“You had a girlfriend when we met?” She asks, eyes wide.
“I did.” You scoff. “We broke up, hic, like a couple weeks after you and me started running.”
“Huh, weird timing.” She mumbles. Your heart literally skips a beat, and you almost choke on your own spit.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She rushes, waving her hand dismissively. A beat of silence passes between you and her.
“I have thought of it.” You sigh. “Of cheating, I mean. It’s kinda why I broke it off with the last girl. I felt bad.”
“You’re better then me.” She grumbles, rubbing her forehead.
“Oh?” You smile teasingly, leaning into her slightly. “Trouble in paradise?”
“He’s great.” She says, the words a frantic mess leaving her mouth. “He treats me good. I just have….” She says, trailing off.
“I just have doubts about him. And interests in someone else.” Nika exhales, lips attaching to the rim of her drink and eyes flitting to yours. She’s saying something to you with her expressions alone, dissecting her words was a whole other job.
“And does this person share your interest?” You mumble, shifting in your seat.
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “I see em’ a lot. She looks at me like she’s interested, but she doesn’t get too close.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Nah, she doesn’t.” Nika shakes her head ever so slightly. “I’ve tried to get her with me more. Y’know, good seats at my games, drinks with my friends. She’s always busy.”
You can’t help but shudder at how she licks her lips in between words as her eyes search your face for any sort of reaction.
“Maybe she’s thrown off by that boyfriend of yours.”
“Do you think if she knew the boyfriend wouldn’t stop me, she’d still give it a chance?” Nika says slyly,
“Hm.” You say, legs pressing together. You can feel your pulse in your pussy and it’s getting hard to ignore. You consider your options before settling with “with a grand gesture to prove it, I don’t see why not.”
“Grand gesture, huh.” She leans into you, her lips just grazing your ear. “I might have something in mind.”
And with that, you’re on your feet and being led by hand through what feels like masses of people. You almost stumble at one point, head slightly spinning from the alcohol in your system and the speed she’s pulling you, but she doesn’t stop. There’s a twinkle in her eye that excites you to your core.
You’re embarrassed immediately when you enter the washroom and there are two girls by the sink touching up their makeup. You and Nika stand by the door excruciatingly awkwardly, her hand tight around yours.
The girls notice the shift in the air, or perhaps it’s Nika’s hazel eyes shooting a glare only opposing teams usually see that causes them to exchange a knowing look and leave as swiftly as the two of you came in.
In an instant her lips are on yours. You find yourself wishing you weren’t so drunk, you’ve only been fantasizing about this kiss for the five months you’ve known her and the three months prior you noticed her around campus. Despite the speed you hope to remember every breath in excruciatingly slow detail.
It’s a rush so aggressive you wonder if she’s making up for lost time. Your back hits the wall for a moment before you’re hoisted up onto the sink. When you let out a gasp she finds opportunity to meet your tongue with her own, deepening the kiss.
“Do you actually want me?” You whisper between kisses, feeling her brows furrow at your question. “Or is this just something to get back at your little boyfriend.”
“Don’t even start.” She snaps, pulling away from you ever so slightly. Her calloused hands are firmly planted on your hips, and her lips are hovering just above yours. It’s impossible to for you to hold any eye contact at this proximity, but she doesn’t struggle at all. “Why d’you think I always want you with me to celebrate n’ not him?”
You just shrug, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you now.
She places a chaste kiss on your lips, different from the ones before. “I’ve never asked him to come with me to a bar with the girls. I’ve never asked anyone who isn’t on the team except for you.”
Now her kisses are trailing down your neck, she’s licking spots softly before sucking on the supple skin so tenderly, unmatched compared to the earlier feverish pace. “I’ve literally been begging you to come to my games, babe, begging.”
Now you scoff. “Are you serious? Do you think that makes it obvious you want me?” You say, attempting to keep a steady voice though it’s so hard when she’s nipping at you and tainting your skin purple and pink with lovebites.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, her breath now warm between your thighs. “Can I make it up to you?”
You stare at her, pouting. You want to say no so badly, you want to push her away and tell her she’s awful for this, but you know you’re no better. You know your touches linger too long on her back, you know the way you think about her makes you just as guilty, which is why when you see her begging between your legs there’s no possible answer you could give other then yes.
And with the utter of your approval Nika is diving headfirst into the current you’ve both been swimming to avoid, her skilled hands holding your skimpy underwear to the side as her lips plant kisses near and on your pussy. You open your legs wider for her, and to thank you her tongue swirls manipulatively around your clit.
The bathroom is starting to blur through your vision, throwing one hand over your mouth to stifle too-loud-sighs while the other hand grasps Nika’s brown hair.
With every huff, whine and jolt she sends through your body you feel a growing sensation in your core. The brunette girl laps at your folds, sucking on your clit while her fingers tease your entrance. The combination of her fingers and mouth turn your sighs to whines and quiet cries of her name.
“See how sorry I am?” She mumbles between your legs. “So, so sorry baby. I shouldn’t be playing with you like that and assuming you know what I want.” Nika smiles, every word spoken sending shivers down your spine.
“S’okay.” You exhale. “Don’t stop.”
Once her fingers find the perfect pace she rises to meet your lips. Her kisses are passionate and messy, you couldn’t care in the slightest though. With every bite of your lip and curl of her finger you feel closer and closer to the edge.
“You close?” She whispers, and you nod timidly in response. Nika gives you the sweetest smile as she pumps in and out of you, your breathing is frantic and somehow in sync with hers. You think about how many times you’ve been so synchronized, but never like this. She bares a triumphant look, maintaining eye contact when you climax all over her fingers. Nika presses sweet kisses to your lips and you bask in the realization of what has just happened.
For a moment, just a moment, you forget she belongs to somebody else, because in this moment she is yours.
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skunkes · 2 days
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if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.
#i cant let go of it. i cant even enjoy good moments without thinking about how they'll just be memories one day#how they're already memories since moments pass so fast#everything is I'll Miss This and i already miss it and i cant believe once you're gone you're gone forever#and ill never ever see you again. and your shell is in the ground but where did the rest of you go?#should i look at your body one last time? on one hand itll be the last time i see you.#on the other hand it will be the last time i see you.#and the memory of you will die with me too. as if neither ever existed#it impacts me so much too bc i dont feel close to anybody really...and i dont make friends easily#so whats going to happen when the people who have always been there arent there anymore?#im going to be alone for so much of my life.#i will record your voice so im ready for when i cant hear it from the source while also knowing it wont be enough and one day#ill be wishing it lasted longer. it could be 12 hours long and ill want more.#how do you surpass this? it hasn't even happened. when it happens i don't know what ill do. considering my whole life has been#the timer. the countdown. hours and hours of anticipatory grief#and then ill be next. me. some of all thats left of you. it cant be true.#sorry. this gets worse every single year and its been going insane lately#id surprisingly been managing it well for months somehow ! it wouldnt cross my mind...and now its there again#like it accumulated and its all coming out right now. ive been crying for hrs tonight and last night#one day his things will just be things. things ive made and given him will be in my hands again.#talkys#i want to go hug my dad but then ill just cry over how one day i wont be able to....! how do i store it? how do i save it?#how do i preserve it forever....even as i take my own last breath....#i cant believe im the only one of me. and my dad is the only one of him.#i wouldnt want to be reborn as anyone else. i cant believe one day i wont get to draw or eat or be comfy in bed anymore.#i cant take it !! im so scared. ill be scared until the end. and you wont be there to hold my hand. im going to be alone.#and none of those years of grief and joy and memories will matter.#i wonder if it would help to tell him about this. i need something to hold onto for when it happens. anything. but i also know it'll make i#hurt more; obviously. just another piece of him that'll be gone one day
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AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?
I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.
One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.
OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.
So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.
I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.
I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"
But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.
But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!
This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.
I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.
It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.
I'm really conflicted about it.
On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.
On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?
This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.
Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?
If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.
I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.
This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol
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edgeray · 1 day
Note
*presses my face against your tank* HELLO RAY !!! :D I AM FINALLY HERE !! MY BRAINCELLS HAVE COLLIDED AND PRODUCED A THOUGHT !!
or, er, sort of? more like a vague vibe, but i digress. basically, consider: pining arle. how does she realize her feelings for you? how does she cope? how does her behaviour around you change? does it? what is she thinking the whole time? when would she consider making a move? essentially i would like to see you psychologically pick apart this woman. go as in depth into her brain or inner monologue as you want !!! the set dressing can be canon or an au, i’ll eat it up regardless :)) and as a professional angst writer i know you can write some absolutely monstrous (/pos) yearning and i’m frothing at the mouth thinking about it 🤤🤤🤤 lookin forward to your thoughts but also take your time with it !!! godspeed 🫡🫡🫡
An Unfit Role 
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - Oh sev… you spoil me too much. You truly do. Somehow this turned into very ‘Arlecchino is a person'-esque and I don't know how but oh well. I don't know if this answered your questions very well, but hopefully this is what you mean by psychologically picking apart her! Was this enough pining? Content warnings / info - uhh none I think. just a lil bit of angst, 1.4k words
Arlecchino is many things. The Fourth Fatui Harbinger, a Snezynayan diplomat, the head of the House of the Hearth, and simply ‘'Father.’ She takes on many roles, and enforces them with an iron fist, every facade meticulously practiced and rationalized. Perfected as if she were an actor on a stage, every action and step is calculated beforehand. And if external factors or unpredictable variables crop up in the midst of her play? Well, a good actor knows how to improvise. Arlecchino is well aware of her roles, has memorized the lines and drilled through every movement. The Knave has many feats from each character she plays. A flawless performer, in those aspects.
A lover is not a character she can play. Someone who loves. It is a role that she cannot hope to touch, one she cannot imagine assigning herself too. She is far too inexperienced in what it pertains to. Her perception would grossly mischaracterize it, painting a rather crude display of what she knows of but doesn't know. After all, how could one act without an adequate example? No actor would want to showcase a poor impression of an original source material, an actor presents only their most remarkable qualities. A good actor knows what they cannot act, and it is this where her talents reach their limit. It is what her role as a ‘Father’ stems from; this inability to express something far too fragile and flimsy for her to hold. 
Of the few showcases of others playing the role, Arlecchino is knowledgeable enough that they are simply inept showcases. The Tsaritsa, who has shown the capability to act, and yet chooses to conceal her abilities from her audience. Crucabena, an unqualified actor, whose words dripped with far too much venom for the soft-spoken voice that she used. Perhaps Clervie was the only accurate and genuine actor able to play the part, but one cannot appreciate the traits of an unfinished story. And the naive Peruere, who could hardly imitate her counterpart, was maimed by Arlecchino’s own hands. It is here that she learns that the role of a lover earns no applause, because it adds little to the plot, and so it lacks a function in her story.  
Despite this, she finds herself in this scene, where she plays a character unlike her usual, an entirely new character involuntarily thrusted into her by the cruel machinations of her mind. 
It is a subtle thing. First, she was just the Knave to you. But somehow, among your presence, her facade slips, and she dons another character. 
She becomes a character who knows of nothing but the way her sight is captured by a singular person, a character whose dead heart begins to beat, daring to flutter back to life after it was painfully wrenched out of her chest by her favorite story's ending. She becomes acutely aware of this role when her eyes linger on you a moment longer than need be, when she indulges your empty but no less engaging conversations, when she familarizes herself with the particular fauna scent you carry. When she closes her eyes, your smile flashes through her mind, she knows she's fallen. 
An actor knows when to quit, when they misfit the character they're performing. And yet her mind remains stubborn. Acting a role one does not fit will only damage the actor's reputation, and she intends on abandoning it. But it is difficult for her to dismiss how much she yearns for a warmth that the blood flames in her veins cannot bring. It is difficult to deny that she is not momentarily blinded and stunned by your beaming expression, even when you are not looking at her. It is increasingly more difficult to control the pulsing underneath her skin. This is a character she cannot control, instead, it often feels that the character controls her. 
It is an unseemly, disgusting appearance for her. If it were physically possible, she would plunge her very own cursed, clawed hands into her chest, to grasp onto this fickle, volatile organ and crush it just to exhaust the remaining embers of a futile hope. If only it were as simple as that. Love is far too much of a complicated role for her, and yet it is somehow inescapable. Some sort of torment placed onto her by the archons. 
She can long, she can reach, she can prance around you, but never can she touch. For love imprints its scorch marks deeper than any weapon or assault. One of the lessons her story has concluded to. 
So, instead, she reduces its role to a minor character. She lets her stares remain, but she observes you from a distance. She does not dawdle a second longer besides you if she needn't be. She dresses the role of a lover as an observer. Everything she touches with these wretched, blackened hands soon turns into nothing but embers and ashes, and so the only way that you will remain is away from her.
On her desk, sits a vase with a single flower. It is your favorite flower, the flower that you smell of. It does not move from its place, nothing is done to it besides being watered. Its stem is so brittle, and the petals are far too easy to wither away.
(It is a reminder, every time she sits at her desk. Oh, how'd she like to stroke the patels with as much tenderness as she could muster. How'd she like to cradle it in her hands, this source of life, despite being so delicate, is so beautiful. How'd she like to be able to wake up everyday, and view upon this blossoming flower. But she is not a gardener. She knows nothing of how to make a flower bloom.) 
Humans are the only viable actors for the role of a lover. A curse is not. 
(In her dreams, sometimes you are in place of Clervie. Yet, like Clervie, the only moment she is able to cradle you is when her sword impales you. She will not let another flower wilt, she will not burn another flower.)
It is why you baffle her. Why do you gaze upon her with that expression, as if her claws are not one one more inch from piercing your skin and ripping into your flesh? How do you take her hands in yours, somehow slotting them as if they were always meant to, when they’re soiled with vulgar blood? Her cutting words and sharp tongue, how do they not dissuade you? How do you see her blackened skin, and not be driven away by such a mark of impurity and depravity? 
How could you not tell that she is improper for the role that you seek?
She wonders if a flower is a poor description of you. She wonders if you are instead a Sundew ensnaring a spider, unwilling to let it escape. No, perhaps that is not fitting for you, because you are unaware how effortlessly she can char you–unaware of the imminent danger that comes with keeping such a venomous creature.
Arlecchino is many things. She is a coward, if only for you. She cannot abandon her role, but she cannot perform better, floating in the state of inadequacy that she so despises. Playing a lover makes her foolish, and it is a compromising role. 
She is foolish, but she is despicable. She is selfish. And though she is perfect actor, even performers must fail to succeed. One day, her mental will and patience crumbles. She requests you into her office, your doe-eyed expression widens when she gives you the flower that sits lone in a glass vase on her desk. She tells you that you plague her thoughts, every feeling and emotion is muddied when they concern you, a culmination of things not within her grasp, not within her control. 
It is your performance that finally teaches her what she lacked before: playing the role of a lover requires another. It is a role dependent on another character, otherwise it cannot succeed. It matters not how experienced one is with the other, as long as the characters are committed to it.
There is another lesson that she learned from you.
“I cannot act as a lover.”
“Why must you act to love me?”
Love is a fickle, unpredictable thing. There is no words to be practiced, no actions to be scripted. 
Arlecchino is many things. A lover may be one of them. 
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novalizinpeace · 3 days
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we reached half of the year ladies and gentleman
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let make a summary of events here
First the obvious, the blackouts hadn't stopped, and at this point i stopped trying to work in the Au since half may 'cause i was getting frustrated by how much process i was losing, yeah, 'm still thinking in work on it, i practically have all 5 chapters of the ARG fully write and the full season of the critters cartoon also write, 'm not losing my work 'cause my country's electrical system is shit.
Funny enough, due all the time that had passed and me still drawing others things to calm myself from the stress, my art style had improve since then, so you all are gonna probably see a little change in some design, not big thing, just my style got more firm on some parts
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Second, things on my home hadn't been great, i don't want to explain all the drama i had here like last time, so 'm going to resume it:
Basically, i had been trying to save for a new computer since the one i got (that was old and used when i got it, but better that my last one) is starting to give me a lot of problems, and i almost got my goal with all the commisions i had been doing lately (and thanks to a really amazing donation i got in ko-fi, Nadd if you're reading this your donation make me cry, i swear 'm going to do something big for you, 'm just still thinking what, your big support deserve something as big)
But then a operation my mom was supposed to get on 31th got reschendule due a problem with some tests, and now she had to retake those tests, the cost of more medicaments, more revisions...
Basically, i gave my mom almost all my saving to ensure she get her operation done this month, and now i barely have for my own monthly medicaments, even less a new computer.
So, i have some YCHs prepare for this month to get my saving back up quickly, my plan was to keep trying work in the Aus, but if i end up without computer, there's no way i get to work in anything anymore. If everything goes right 'm gonna post them tomorrow, so stay tune for it.
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BTW, during all this there's special posts schendule in the other blog, back in april i actually planned all this month, since the original plan was to post the Au during may and work in commisions during june, there's some drawings schendule in there to keep the other blog moving, i didn't expected to no been able to make chapter 3 on may, but at least past me prepared something for the rainy days.
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So, in resume, this month is kinda chaotic for me, more that usually is (the people that know me knows that this specific month is always hell to me), but 'm going to do my best to keep moving, thanks everybody for still support me even when i hadn't been active this whole past month, i promise 'm going to do my best to keep giving you all good times here. Now let survive this month together.
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dontexpectmuch · 2 days
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next to you - chris brown ft. justin bieber.
you will always stay by his side, even when one day the sky comes falling down.
***
you two have always dreamed of this moment, picturing any possible scenario of this exact outcome.
jude always told you how far away this dream of his seemed, how winning the champions league is not something everyone can witness. he told you many times that it was one of his biggest dreams ever since he was just a little boy. smiling at you as you laid in his arms, jude promised you to win it one day, not only for himself, but also for you, the one thatt always stayed by his side and helped him get through the toughest times during his career.
i pray to god everyday, that you keep that smile.
those times now feel like a distant dream, a memory that you cherish to visit whenever you think of jude and your past relationship. everything was perfect, the two of you fit together like nothing else.
but you were also young, naīve and insecure. being together with one of the best youngsters, who also happened to be quite handsome came with many difficulties that you did not know about before. jude always tried to remind you of how you were the only one for him, his dream person and the one he would go any length for.
you are my dream, there’s not a thing i won’t do, i’ll give my life up for you. ‘cause you are my dream.
even though you were mentally prepared, the break up still hurt like hell. it was a mutual decision, jude no longer wanted to keep you hurting with all the attention he got due to bis rising popularity. and you could no longer handle all the mean comments made about you inline day by day. silent tears and desperation between your words filled the air as you got up to pack your things you had brought for the weekend. his parents and brother were gone and you wanted to spend some alone time together before he got busy again.
the tension was thick, no one dares to say anything, unsure of what to do next. your heart was beating so loud that your ears started to hurt, you felt hot and cold and your hands were shaking as you put the last piece inside your bag. shouldering it you moved to the front door, looking back one last time before leaving your now ex boyfriend, probably for ever.
jude sat down on the couch in the living room, blankly staring at the floor. he promised you to stay next to you no matter what, and now he feels angry at himself for not keeping this promise. his heart feels like it is being poked by a dagger over and over again. yet it would not pierce through, not granting him any kind of relief from this immense feeling of pain and loss.
i’ll be there when you’re insecure, let you know that you’re always lovely, ‘cause you are the only thing that i got right now.
now it has been a year since the last time he got to hold you, bury his nose in your hair and close his eyes in the comfort of his own bed.
it has been a year full of ups and downs, important decisions and big changes. he finally made his dream come true by signing for real madrid. he played one of his best, if not the best, season of his life and met incredible people and players who helped him improve a lot.
the best part of this year definitely is hearing the final whistle of the match, signaling that he indeed won his very first champions league match against his former club. the cheers around him, from both the fans and his teammates filled his ears as he fell down to his knees, his heart racing against his chest. tears sting his eyes as he slowly realized what actually just had happened. he fulfilled one of his biggest childhood dreams. not only that, but he also was able to do this while his parents and brother were watching him.
you were also there, he knew.
of course you were, you promised him that you would be there for him if he was ever reaching the final. you texted him first, congratulating him when he won the semi-final.
one day, when the sky is fallin’, i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.
he offered you tickets to watch him play, alongside his family like the old times. you wanted to decline, though jude was very stubborn and even told his mother to tell you that you have to accept his offer, which you then did after denise talked to you.
your eyes were following him as he walks towards were you and his family were standing, gold medal adoring his neck, his smile reaching his ears and eyes shining bright. you feel yourself smiling as well, happy for him as if you had one the league yourself.
his family let you know that they are going down to meet him, asking if you wanted to tag along, which you politely declined. you didn’t want to be seen next to him, if you were honest. the past comments about you back then still haunted you at times. you were happy with just watching him enjoy his time, past feelings for him resurfacing.
your eyes meet, he just stands there, his arms hanging by his side as he look at you intensely. you mirrored his gaze, taking in his muscular body. he was still the same jude that you fell for all those years ago, just more mature and handsome. he was still the same jude you dreamed of the past year, the one whose pictures you looked at when you deeply missed his presence in your day.
his gaze softened, and he took a step forward, as if wanting to get closer to you.
nothing will ever come between us, ‘cause i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.
he came to a halt when jobe jumped on him, arms around his neck and shoulders as he congratulated his elder brother. judes gaze went to him, his smile widening even more if that was possible as he returned his brothers hug. his parents also hugged him, the family shared their happiness together on the field.
you smiled at that sight, remembering the times when you were part of their group hugs.
seeing him win was all you wanted, and now that you did, you decide it is finally time for you to leave. you had a long way back home and wanted to go to bed as soon as possible. so, without any further delay, you turn around and leave the stadium, carefully trying not to bump into any cheering fans.
and with your back turned away at the field, you do not see judes desperate eyes following your body, wishing that you were also here to celebrate with him.
i’ll be there, i’ll be there.
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happy for jude! so a cute drabble for you! comments are appreciated 🥹
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Let the Light in |One-shot [1]|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader
One-shot: A Classic Whodunit
Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?
Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)
Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something
Masterlist
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The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke. 
Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with. 
“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone. 
“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about. 
“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment. 
“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less. 
“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.
“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”
“If you say so.” 
“Said you came in today.”
“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road. 
“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”
“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on. 
“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.
“Okay. It’s not true.” 
“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”
The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!” 
You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance. 
It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin. 
“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.
“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration. 
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes!”
“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.
“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction. 
“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome!”
You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind. 
Great.
By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it. 
The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 
Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank.  If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled. 
“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!” 
“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man. 
Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted. 
Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank. 
“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.
“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.
“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!” 
As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away. 
Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane. 
The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?
“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.
“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.
“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.
“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.
“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.
“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”
“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.
“Good.” 
“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”
“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.
From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.
“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone
She was going to punch you.
“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t. 
“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.
Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease. 
You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”
“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”
“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.” 
“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.
“Wow. Bummer.”
“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.
“I didn’t say that,” you said. 
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.
“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again. 
“You’re an asshole!” 
“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.
“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”
“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”
“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.
“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”
Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out. 
“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly. 
“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.
Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.
He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative. 
“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.
“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.
“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?” 
“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile. 
“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further. 
You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.
You were truly something. 
You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has. 
Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?
You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather. 
You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.
Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.
You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer. 
Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.
“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.
He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”
“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.
“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.
“Oh, that was actually the apology.”
He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this. 
You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”
“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.
“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again. 
“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be. 
“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one. 
You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference. 
Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.
The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on. 
“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster. 
“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.
“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side. 
“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”
He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?” 
You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys. 
“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door.  As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.
“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.” 
“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.
Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.
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A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts
Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell
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indigochromatic · 2 days
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Some Basic Advice About EMDR for Systems
(drawing on our own experiences, reading about it, and comparing notes with our therapist)
This is mainly aimed at systems who are considering doing EMDR or planning on it, but want to know what the process is like and what to look out for, with some personal experiences sprinkled in.
Under the cut, because I talk a lot:
General Concept
I think the big picture in our experience is that EMDR is/was like…an intensifier for the kind of headspace/internal system interaction processing work that a lot of systems do naturally, at least a little, especially if they have decent internal communication. This has both upsides and downsides/areas to be cautious about.
A lot of EMDR pre-work (often called “resourcing”) is about making sure you have a good toolbox of “mental tricks/techniques” to be able to handle unexpected intense emotions, feelings, and/or imagery etc that often comes up when you get into trying to work with traumatic stuff. This is in my opinion very important, and something your therapist should take at least a few sessions to talk with you about even if you already have good tools for it already, just to make sure they know your strategies and you’re all on the same page. Also super common and normal to spend some time developing extra ones if needed—stuff like “the box” for temporarily containing crisis emotions when needed, having a mental “safe space” that you can come back to, etc. Also, EMDR specifically tends to often be a little rigid/scripted in the types of visualizations and metaphors you’re “supposed” to use, but in my opinion a good therapist should be flexible enough to adapt to equivalent images/techniques you may already have (like, “imagine you’re viewing the traumatic memory on a movie screen, or out the window of a train going through a tunnel” is a common instruction; if, say, your headspace has a lot of fantasy elements and it makes more internal sense to be viewing the memory via…scrying in a dish or something, your therapist should be down with you doing that instead, if you want to).
As for the sessions themselves, a big thing we don’t hear articulated a lot is that, in our experience  and that of some other folks we know, EMDR has a tendency of being…like, sneakily intense: It doesn’t necessarily hit you all at once in the session, which may just feel like “ok, that was Some Therapy Work but I’m chill”, but then over the rest of the day and maybe even the next few days, it’s not uncommon to keep feeling a lot of emotional intensity/vulnerability, having more intense “internal conversations and/or realizations”, etc. For this reason, EMDR is generally supposed to start with a very mild memory-to-process, like 4-5 out of 10 max.
Notes of Caution and Stuff to Keep In Mind
Especially for folks who already heavily dissociate from emotional trauma, it’s super easy to think you’re “going too easy” only to find that the memory has a lot more emotional baggage than you realized—really go easy on yourself when you start, EMDR is like psychology power tools and you absolutely can hurt yourself. (We’ve heard from plenty of systems who had bad therapists who did not adequately support them in doing EMDR, and absolutely fucked them over by starting too big and retraumatizing the hell out of them— this isn’t meant as fear-mongering, especially if you really like and trust your therapist, but just genuine “hey, EMDR can be very volatile stuff, which is part of why it can be so helpful, but also means that it’s important to not skip out on the safety precautions and self-care”.) What this means in practice is often stuff like: (our recommendations at least) - trying to schedule breaks/easy days immediately after - possibly getting someone to drive you home, especially if you know you’re going after a Big Thing, because the dissociation hangover immediately after can be pretty real - start with a memory that feels "too easy", and scale up if a week later it still felt trivial/like you’re fully over it, because it’s way easier to ramp up than try to do damage control.
Our personal experience, in tl:dr form, was that it felt like the core of the technique was really useful for us, and mirrored some of the most useful instances of self-processing we’d had before while also kind of serving as a “shortcut” to it—but, it was pretty intense and we didn’t really like/fit well with the therapists who we were working with at the time, which is why we stopped (didn’t want to keep doing an emotionally intense thing with folks we didn’t trust).
Finally, a bit about EMDR and "maybe I'm plural but I'm not sure, and/or may not have great in-system communication": yeah, this is a case to be especially slow and careful, for all the aforementioned reasons; what my instinct/recommendation would be in those cases is to: 1) make sure you learn a lot of resourcing techniques 2) try to check in with yourself(s) frequently and with compassion/intent-to-collaborate, "ask the inside of your head how it's feeling" and even if you're not sure whether the "reply" was just your own thoughts or a headmate, listen and try to engage with/respect those responses and emotions 3) if you start getting warning signs/back-off signals/sudden intense feelings, listen to them and lighten up, pause the session if you need to, do some self care etc, even (especially) if you don't know why you felt that way and it seems 'odd/random', and really you're super curious about what's going on and just want to figure it out. Like...you and the inside of your head and/or other system members are trying to navigate a complicated D&D maze together, in the dark, and you each only have part of the map--so you have to work together and trust each other, especially listening to warning signals even when your "part of the map" doesn't show anything to worry about there. And the more you work together and trust each other, the better everything gets, including therapy work.
When it's "Death By A Thousand Papercuts"-type Trauma Instead
If you're not sure where to start because there aren't a lot of obvious "Big Bad Memories" that feel like they adequately explain the issues you're having, some recommendations:
-> First, note that "no Big Bad Memories are immediately coming to mind, idk" is super common in systems and also in CPTSD, way more than I think most folks realize, so know that you're not alone and also that it doesn't mean you don't necessarily have stuff deserving of help and support.
-> So yeah, there's kinda two things imo you can try. The first is, if your therapist is on the more flexible side, you can try doing EMDR with either "this specific memory wasn't too bad, but it's representative of an ongoing pattern or theme that wasn't great" (say, loneliness at school or something, and you pick a specific lunchtime memory, which wasn't really That Bad in the moment, but you were kinda sad and/or upset about it and it feels representative of the overall trend you're trying to process/heal). Or you can try just doing the EMDR process on the theme itself, at the abstract level, and see what comes up--again, I'd really recommend starting with a much lower-stakes issue/theme than you think you need, just because it's really easy to underestimate, especially for systems and other folks whose brains dissociate a lot. (And especially if you know your system has episodic amnesia--e.g. event-amnesia/blackout amnesia--as well as emotional amnesia.)
The second is, there are other "more flexible" types of similar somatic therapy techniques (brainspotting is the name of another one, and there's more I can't think of rn) that might fit better instead-- tldr, totally worth asking your therapist about the whole situation, and asking what they'd feel most qualified for/comfortable with, in my opinion. You don't need to be doing Specifically Exactly EMDR to do somatic trauma therapy, even though EMDR is one of the more well-known modalities for it, and finding a version that feels right and not like you're forcing anything is really valuable (and you're not 'being picky' if it takes a while to find one; you're allowed to want to find one that feels right).
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Physically Unable To Love
Jiyan x Reader
Notes: Reader based off of oc (written with reader inserts), gn reader, they/them used, gnc Rover (uses any pronoun), Chixia being the worst wingwoman, extreme romantic pining, unresolved feelings, possible ooc Chixia (I'm going off of vibes from what I've played)
Yet again this man has invaded my head and so I shall write more. Also title is more dramatic then what's actually written lmao.
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"Come on! It can't be that hard to just ask him on a date!" Chixia exclaimed, frustration evident on her features as she stared at the person across from her. "The worst he can say is no, [Y/n]!"
"And that's the problem! I can't handle a no!" They yelled back, keeping their hands gripping their hair. "I'm self aware enough to know that! It's better if I just get over-"
"Oh hey there he is." Rover casually announced, looking over in the direction of where the general was. [Y/n] was quick to slam their head into the table, cursing as the pain flooded their system.
"Now's your chance!"
"Chixia no-"
"Hey General!! Over here!! We have room if you need a table to sit at!" The redhead called out excitedly, gaining the attention of the man. He carefully walks over, studying [Y/n] who refused to put their head up in greeting.
"Sorry if I'm barging in."
"Not at all." Rover quickly replied, nudging his elbow into [Y/n]'s side. They hissed, glaring at them before sighing as they lifted their head to meet Jiyan's eyes.
"You're fine, General."
"You alright? Are you having one of those moments again?" He asked, sitting down across from them. His eyes studied their tense muscles, brows furrowed in concern. "If you want I can-"
"I'm fine!" [Y/n] interrupted, raising their voice a bit. They flinched once they felt eyes of the other patrons on them, gently resting their head on the table again. "You don't need to do that thing again."
"That thing again?" Both Chixia and Rover asked, their eyes moving back and forth between the two. [Y/n]'s cheeks burned at the memory, practically being cuddled by the general when they grew overwhelmed one evening. They didn't want to remember it, for it only made their heartbeat even more rapid around the man.
"Anyway!" They quickly said, moving the conversation along. "It's a rarity to see you in the city Jiyan! Means times are a bit more peaceful huh?"
"Yes, there's not as many Tacet Discords showing up lately. It's good for the soldiers morale too, since many weren't able to see their families during the threat of the Threnodian's rewakening." The conversation then drifted off, with [Y/n] barely interacting with Jiyan. Chixia and Rover both tried to make them join, but it was to no avail. After some time the general said his farewells and left the group.
"What was that?!" Chixia yelled. "You literally only talked to him like once!"
"Well sorry! Once the food got brought in I suddenly grew overwhelmed!"
"What she means," Rover began, placing her hand on the redhead's. "Is that we just want to help with you-"
"Look I just can't!" They screamed, slamming their hands on tbe table. They flinched once everyone around them grew quiet, sitting back down. "It's not that simple guys. I just...I'm not ready to hear a rejection okay?"
"And what makes you so sure it will be a rejection?" The dark haired person asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Because why wouldn't it be? Even if it's not because he doesn't see me in that way, which he totally doesn't by the way, it's because he's too busy with being a general. I know he would just see himself as a burden like I do with myself and think a rejection is better than a potentially dead partner!"
The two look at them in silence, digesting their words.
"You really thought about it that much?" Chixia asked softly, narrowing her eyes in concern. "I mean I'm sure-"
"I know you're trying to help, but please. Just let me...get over it. It's better than experiencing heartbreak. Besides I have my own as to why I can't be in a relationship." [Y/n] smiled sadly. "I have to find some way back home to my world after all."
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sobasluuurp · 1 day
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Ok. About Tenko.
I understand why so many people are angry that he's dead. I really do. I would've loved for him to live as well. I cried when he died.
However.
Just because he's dead doesn't mean his character has been handled poorly. In fact, all things considered, this ending (even though it makes me real fucking sad) makes the most sense for both his character and his story. Let me explain.
First and foremost, there's the matter of Shigaraki's characterization and arc. It goes without saying, but he's an angry, used, and abused child who grew up into an adult who wants nothing more than for everything to end. His goals have always been destructive to an extreme and honestly, the logical end to "let's destroy it all" is LITERALLY everything, including himself. He's also had absolutely zero agency since the moment his parents even thought of conceiving him, and has been struggling to become his own person since the beginning of his arc. He, against his abuser, who covets immortality and eternity.
What better a way for a person such as himself to assert his agency is there than to go out the way he did? To shift his focus away from the faceless masses and to the (similarly faceless, lol) abuser who caused his pain in the first place? To destroy the control AFO has held over him and prove to him that he was always his own person? To say, this is who you molded me into. And because I am who I am, I will now kill you, and take myself down with you, and be glad for it.
(and in the process, destroy the worldview AFO showed us in the Star and Stripe arc, that the ones who survive are the victors. AFO has completely and eternally lost, but Shigaraki is victorious to his last.)
It's his first moment of complete agency in his life -- acting entirely against anyone else's wishes for himself or his actions. And he uses it to do the one thing he's been itching for his whole life -- to destroy the source of his pain.
It's a negative character arc, in a way. It's not what any of us would've wanted for him. In a perfect world, he would be able to recover and readjust, building a life for himself and his found family in peace. He'd be able to experience life fully for the first time, and see that the world is not so bleak after all.
(I'm choking up just thinking about what's been lost. It's a fucking tragedy.)
But not every character arc gets to end happily. Sometimes people do slip through the cracks. That's always been what Shigaraki's character is about.
....and what every other member of the League's characters have been about.
Because here's the thing. The story of Shigaraki's life and death would be incomplete without his relationship to his found family. He's their leader. Their symbol. Their All Might.
Shigaraki's death is not the grimdark, fuck-the-audience, senseless kind of tragedy. He is a martyr, yes, but the people he stood for will in all likelihood survive. He died for the League. His life -- his existence -- brought them together, gave them purpose, and showed them a bright future. It is my steadfast belief that he will be the only death among the main villains. Because this is a story about saving to win, after all. And given that My Hero doesn't like to kill characters off too often and each one of them still has a path to recovery, I think it's a safe assumption to make. Especially since (especially in Toya's and Toga's cases) each of them had a moment of reconciliation at the end of their fights -- the kind of thing that can help them move forward.
And to be honest, we've known for a very, very long time that BNHA is the kind of anime that likes to turn old cliches on their heads. Kacchan did not become a villain during Kamino. La Brava's literal power of love was not enough to win the battle. Deku fought tirelessly to talk-no-jutsu Shigaraki into redemption, and while he did get through to him, he still couldn't save him after everything that happened. It's nuanced and messy in a way that I've come to expect from BNHA.
So yea, Shigaraki died. But Shigaraki also lived. Despite everything that AFO and Kotoro wanted from him (despite the fact that he was never meant to really be alive in the first place), he lived on his own terms and fought so that the people he cared about would be seen. Because he lived, the old world was destroyed, and from his ashes, a better one can be built. He achieved everything that no one thought he could, and reclaimed his life in the process. What better ending could you ask for a tragic character?
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