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noiriarti · 5 months ago

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Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 4

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! MDNI! Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help. Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 3.5k CW: usage of 'good girl,' degradation (usage of 'slut'), rough sex, lots of masturbation, p in v sex, overstimulation AN: OMG it's done!! The last chapter of the best friends AU! I'm considering adding a bonus chapter of the reader trying anal with Anakin for the first time, so let me know if you'd like to see that! As always, requests and asks are open!

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Bonus Chapter

Chapter 4: Olives and Mushrooms

You gripped the note in your hands, almost crumpling the worn paper, and you could hardly believe what you were reading.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me me. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved you too much to not tell you. I've been finding myself wanting to hold your hand or kiss you all the time. You make my life so much better, and I want to spend all my time with you. Not telling you that has been torture, because you've been on my mind every minute of every day. Ben has been telling me that I stare too much at my phone, and it's only because I'm looking at texts from you or thinking about what I want to say to you. Being with you is all I've been looking forward to since we separated.

The truth is that I'm terrified to say this, so I needed to write it down. I'm scared you'll feel too weird about this, which I would understand, but I'm also scared that we just won't work out if we try. That's why I'm happy that the most understanding person in my life is the one I'm telling this to. If anyone could make it work, it would be us. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, so I want you to know that I'll respect whatever you say. If you're interested, I would love to go on a date and see where this goes. Will you go out with me?

Your breath caught in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. There was no way this was real. That Ani, your Ani, loved you back, was absurd. You'd sooner believe that he was playing an elaborate prank on you, but the writing was so sincere, so sappy, it could only have been written by your Ani. You looked up at him on the bed, scrolling on his phone and tucked into the covers, the boy you knew and loved. His smile when he saw something funny, and his quick fingers as he texted someone, probably his mom, back. The face you had dinner with frequently. The one person whom you wanted more than anything to love you the way you loved him was the person who wrote this letter to you, so sweet and sincere.

But why was it crumpled up like that? Discarded? Did you mean that little to him? Was it just something he was going to say if he needed to? To get into your pants? You imagined him writing the words out and keeping it in his bag in case you hesitated. He, of all people, would know that telling you he loved you would get you to do anything for him. The thought sent a cold stab into your heart. It couldn't be. Ani was so loyal. He'd never do that. Never. But you also would have said the same thing about him kissing you three weeks ago. And the way he treated Padme at the end of their relationship, so detached, so uninterested in her messages... Maybe you didn't know this side of him that well at all. You had to give him a chance to explain. To tell you that you were just being paranoid. Your throat felt tight as you tried to say something, but your voice came out laced with your doubt and fear.

"Anakin, what the fuck is this?" He shot up from where he was sitting on the bed, suddenly jumping and rushing over to you to snatch the paper from your hands. When he reached you, he was desperate and panicking, the fear rolling off him so strongly that you could practically feel it.

"FUCK, fuck, don't read that. Don't. Please," he begged you as he ripped the paper away and crumpled it in his hand. His eyes were wild, defensive, and you didn't understand why. If he had really meant to tell you, why would he freak out now? Unless he never meant to say anything unless he needed to.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?" The words came out gritted, sharp like a knife piercing through his skin. He visibly flinched, and you realized you had probably hit the nail on the head.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered as he looked away. The lines of his jaw were set, and you saw a muscle flare as he clenched it. Even now, you wanted him desperately. You barked out an angry laugh.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? You loving me doesn't matter?" The words came out sharp, angry, scalding, like a brand on his skin. He recoiled as if struck, immediately getting defensive. His handsome features twisted, then unclenched.

"It's not like that, I-you-" he stumbled over his words as he put his hands in his air, getting frustrated with himself. He threw his arms down by his sides, then pointed a finger toward you accusingly. "Well, were you ever planning on telling me about Jake?"

"Jake? What the fuck does Jake have to do with this?" You balked and scoffed. Both of you were raising your voices at this point, and neither of you would deescalate any time soon.

"Well your roommate obviously thinks he has something to do with it," Anakin gritted out bitterly. The temperature was rising in the room, tension growing between the two of you.

"Anakin, stop being jealous over a guy I've spoken to literally twice! I don't love him, I love--" But then you stopped yourself. He was driving you crazy, and you almost blurted out something that you shouldn't have. "Whatever." "No, finish your sentence. Finish it. Now." He was furious, almost looming over you with his broad frame. His rust-colored hair flew in his eyes as he yelled out the words, casting shadows in his face. You knew what he wanted and the words flew out of your mouth without any defiance.

"I love you! Obviously, dumbass! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His face fell at your admission, but then he snapped back at you.

"Cause I thought you were dating some fuck named Jake! And that you didn't want to be more than friends! You literally said we could never date to Ahsoka, like, three hours ago, remember?" His voice was hoarse from yelling. A flare of pleasure curled in your stomach at the thought that he was jealous of some random guy just because he paid attention to you, but you had to make the point that of course you couldn't say you liked Anakin to Ahsoka while he was right there. How stupid was he?

"I just said that because I thought you didn't like me like that!" You yelled back.

"Well, I do!"

"Okay!"

"Okay!" The two of you sat silent, fuming at one another. Anakin was still panting from yelling and looked so incredibly fuckable while shirtless that you almost kissed him right then and there. Then, sometime when the beating of your heart dropped to normal levels and you stopped, the realization hit that oh, Anakin was in love with you. You'd just been fighting about it, but you didn't really comprehend what that meant in your clouded anger. It meant that every time he called you baby in bed, he meant it. It meant that he didn't just want to practice. It meant that you two could be together, finally more than friends. The warmth you had felt before was growing, filling every part of your soul and bursting through the uncertainty you had about him. Anakin loved you. And this was probably the best day of your life.

"Anakin, say it, please," you begged. You wanted to hear him say it, not in anger or frustration, or in some hidden note, but out loud. To make it real. He had softened since your fight, and approached you with that same gentleness you loved. His strong, warm arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his embrace again and leaning his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he whispered tenderly. His blue eyes shone with affection, just like they had for years. It was perfect, so sweet and honest, just like your Ani. The silence sat between you for several long seconds, each moment intensifying the stares you were giving one another. You weren't sure which one of you moved first. Your mouths crashed together with enough force to pull a groan out of you as he kissed you fiercely. Your nails dragged down the warm skin of his bare back while his hands found your hair. Still kissing you frantically, Anakin pushed you against the wall by the bathroom and pressed your bodies against the cool drywall. A moan ripped out of his mouth against yours as you bit his lip brutally, pouring all your anger and desire and love into your movements. You kept teasing him with your tongue, swiping it across his lips or touching it to his, and he had enough.

"Get on the bed before I make you," he growled.

You were still wearing the lace bra under your sleep shirt, so you threw the old tee off on the way to the bed, leaving you in just your bra and shorts, with nothing beneath them. When you saw he was close, you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down onto you, settling himself between your legs. Soon, you felt the hardness you knew well grow and rut against you. Anakin's mouth on yours was demanding and muffled your moans as you thrust your hips up to meet his. He broke off from you to trail sloppy kisses down your jaw to your throat, which finally led to him sucking a mark into the crook of your neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin and you gasped. He obviously enjoyed the sound and smiled against you. You got the sense that he was devoted to making you feel pleasure, lapping up every sound and word as his reward. All he wanted was for you to feel as good as he did, latched onto your neck.

When he pulled away, his face shone with pride at the dark mark he had left on you. He loved making you his. He immediately went further down to your bra, kissing over the top of your breasts and occasionally teasing you with his tongue. You sat up for a moment, during which you could see the visible panic in his eyes that he had done something wrong. You unclipped the bra from the back, letting it fall. He grinned widely at you, like it was his first time seeing a girl naked. Well, half-naked, you thought.

Anakin immediately resumed kissing down your collarbone, finally getting where he wanted. When his lips connected with your nipple and you felt his tongue dart out, you moaned obscenities into the quiet room. There was no one but the two of you in the world. Emboldened, his teeth scraped your nipple while his free hand went to pinch the other, hard, shooting pain and pleasure into your core. He alternated between the sting of his pinches and his soothing tongue as you keened out his name over and over. You would never get tired of saying it. By the time he had left marks all over your chest, you were sure the neighbors would report you to the building manager.

"I love you," you whispered when he gazed up at you with his eyes.

"Don't tell me that now," he grunted against your nipple. A breathy laugh escaped your chest.

"What? Why?"

“Makes me want to wreck you.” The way he bit it out, with so much mischief in his voice, made you want to see him try.

"Then do it," you teased back. God, you loved that smile. You slipped your thumbs beneath the waistband of your shorts and pulled them off. Having someone see you completely naked for the first time was terrifying, but Anakin looked so hungry and reverent that it soothed the fear. He kissed his way down your stomach to your pussy, only stopping to groan when you wove your hands through his soft hair and pulled.

His lips finally met your desperate clit, still sensitive and swollen from your orgasms earlier. You moaned his name loudly, in almost a yelp, and he kept moving his warm, wet tongue faster, faster against you. Everything slid together so perfectly, moistened both by his spit and your wetness, that you were finding yourself get close faster than you would have expected. You tilted your hips up to him, spreading your legs even further. A finger poked at your pussy, and you jumped a bit in surprise before you felt it slide in with ease. You weren't just wet, you were practically soaked. His spit coated your inner thighs and probably the lower half of his face, but he was unrelenting. It started from your toes and cracked like a whip through your body. Your mouth gaped open in a silent scream as you came on his face and clenched your legs around his head.

While you came, he focused on fingering you and found that place that made you let out a whine while he pressed it during a particularly strong aftershock. You were panting and sweating like you had just played one of Anakin's games for him. On top of that, you were sure your hair looked messy and foul and distinctly unsexy, but he pulled himself off you and told you otherwise.

"You look beautiful, darling," he said in pure worship as he caught his breath. His chin was covered in a thin sheen of spit and your juices, which made your pussy constrict on his finger again.

"Think you can manage one more for me, baby?" You nodded. Yes, you would do anything for him. You would walk over glass to please him right now. He dove back in, tongue consistently stroking your oversensitive clit in just the right way. You squirmed under his head, pulling your arms off his hair in your movements. Shit. This wasn't going to be an easy orgasm. He used his hands to grab your wrists and hold them down as you shook and moved under him. It was clear you weren't going anywhere. Everything hurt in a delightful way, especially your clit, which was begging you to pause. This time, it was softer, more effort for you. You clenched your stomach and bore down on his fingers, desperately wanting to cum.

The sweat dripped down your forehead, and you felt it coming. It washed over you in warm waves, a weaker echo of the previous ones that day, but much more draining. Your head was soft and fuzzy, all about Anakin. He was all there was to you, right now, in the euphoria. His strong arms, lifting you up, kissing your cheek, telling you how good you were, that you were his good girl. When you felt more present, there was one thing you desperately wanted. To be filled. Your pussy had felt his fingers and wanted, needed, more.

Anakin had positioned himself above you, keeping his hips distinctly far from you to give you a bit to recover, but busied himself by kissing your face and whispering sweet words in your ear.

"Hang on, baby," he said as you started pawing down his chest to pull down his pants and grab his cock, trying to get him to line up and slam into you. He slid out of the flannel, then pulled out a condom from the pocket, and rolled it on.

"But Ani," you whined, thrusting up into his thigh. You needed him.

"I know, baby. I know. I'll take care of you as soon as I know you want this," he said. You nodded, swallowing down a pinch of anticipation.

In his eyes, you saw him, all of him. The shouted insults when you beat him at Mario Kart, the sweet kisses. His nose going red and runny from the cold in your snow fort. The sardonic eye roll he gave when he was furious at you, the way only you could make him, and the grin he gave when he got a good grade. His voice when he whispered to you that he loved you. He was made up of these tiny little things, little bits of starlight and darkness, all shoved and compressed to make one man. Your Anakin.

"Ani, I love you. So much. And now that I know you love me, there's nothing more that I want than to do everything with you. So stop worrying, and just fuck me already." His smile was everything.

Anakin pushed into you slowly, letting out a soft grunt when he first felt your heat around him, and it was obvious he was holding himself back for your sake. He was so big, so thick, that when you thought there couldn't possibly be any left, he just kept getting deeper. He bottomed out inside you and paused, but you jerked your hips up, wanting him to move, fast, slow, anything. Anakin took the hint.

His thrusting was fast, precise, just like him. You swore you could feel the ridge of his cock as he moved within you, but your pleasure-induced babbling drowned out everything else.

"Fuck, Ani, shit that's so good, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckme fuck your little slut!" You realized what you said with a little gasp. It wasn't intentional, but fuck it felt good to say. Anakin was clearly surprised, but quickly cast you a hungry grin. He loved it.

"So you want to be fucked like a slut, huh? Turn around. Now," he growled as he pulled out of you, grabbed your hips, and whipped you around. You barely landed on your hands and knees when he slammed into you again, and you let out a keen. Anakin smacked your ass before setting a consistent, punishing pace, letting small grunts and groans drop from his lips as he got closer. With the angle of your hips, he was hitting the same, deep spot within you over and over, and you practically couldn't close your mouth.

"Fuck yes, fuck me like a slut, fuck me, yesyesyesyes," you chanted as he grabbed your hair and pulled. The feeling was just like earlier that night, when he fucked your throat, but he was harsher. Your scalp stung so perfectly, adding to the overwhelming array of feelings. Even though you wanted to, your pussy couldn't squeeze out another orgasm. It was just too much. Anakin was feeling it too, and his sounds got more frantic along with his hips. In a few seconds, he leant over you, teasing your ear with his pants.

“I don’t-- I don’t think I can last any longer, fuck, baby, your pussy is too good,” he breathed. He sped up, snapping his hips into yours erratically as he moaned your name and came. His jaw flexed, his brow furrowed, and his eyes clenched through it. When he was done, he pulled out of you slowly, tied off the condom, and tossed it in the trash by your bed before returning to give you some love. He drew you to his chest, scratching your scalp and kissing your forehead, until you both were almost asleep. Anakin prodded you into using the bathroom and brushing your teeth before you passed out.

This time, when you came back from the bathroom, there were no more discoveries, just Anakin in your bed, exactly where he belonged. He pulled you in with his strong arm, pressing his chest to your back as you both drifted off.

When you woke up, you thanked your lucky stars Ahsoka hadn't come home yet, because you were butt-naked and sprawled on top of Anakin. It took a moment to register that Anakin, your best friend, was in your bed, and then another to realize that, oh yeah. He was your boyfriend now. For the rest of the weekend he acted just like you thought he would, getting you dinner and holding your hand. You also bickered and told each other all the stories you had missed. You had become romantic partners, but you were still best friends at your core. Not that much had changed, really.

When he left, the loneliness and homesickness of being at college was lighter. You knew, standing by the train platform and waving at him through the window, that he would be back. Over and over again you would come back to one another, until you could finally be together again. As you braved the crowds of Grand Central, trying to find your way to the goddamned subway, your phone pinged.

Anakin: Coach just told me I'm playing Princeton next weekend Anakin: Well I'm really bench warming Anakin: You should come visit Anakin: Cheer me on Anakin: Only 1 hr by train

You: I'll get tix

Anakin: See you there baby

You smiled to yourself and walked back to your dorm.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future works!): @doblasftcisco @aliciaasky @cultofsin @avalovesjoe1 @akixxrafiiy @princearthur4 @sythethecarrot @jackie-on-the-loose @throughparisallthroughrome @rhiannonhippiegirl

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels

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icycoldninja · 7 months ago

Note

Headcanon of Sparda men + Sephiroth helping reader who has bird like wings on their back to groom their wings pls pls pls 🙏🙏🙏

Sure, sure! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + Sephiroth x Winged!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante has wings in his SDT, yes, but they are scaled, not feathered.

-He's never seen a person with feathered wings before; he's used to the scraggly, knobbly wings of inferior demons, so it's only natural for him to be extremely curious.

-He's like an excited 4 year old, asking tons of questions, poking, prodding, tugging, and even sniffing at your wings.

-Eventually you get him to calm down and talk him through the process of cleaning and grooming your wings.

-Dante helps you get the places you can't reach, jabbering swwy excitedly as he does. This whole experience is so new, and he's in shock.

-He'll definitely want to help you again, and probably has another slew of questions for you.

■ Vergil ■

-Like Dante, Vergil is not used to seeing humans with beautiful, feathery wings like yours, and regards them with suspicion.

-He keeps away from you and your wings, as he's sure they are important to you. His surprise was monumental when he learned you wanted him to help you groom them.

-Vergil was very nervous handling your wings. They looked so delicate and fragile, as if they would snap in half if he handled them too roughly. He did next to nothing the entire time, worried he would hurt you.

-After a while, you grew a bit frustrated with how useless he was being and told him that your wings were as strong as, if not stronger than bone, and that they were very unlikely to break under his grip.

-With this reassurance, Vergil gripped your wings more tightly and wasn't afraid to snip away protruding feathers.

-Turns out, he had a lot of fun, and would definitely help you again sometime in the future, should you need him.

□ Nero □

-Nero vaguely remembered helping V groom Griffon's feathers a while back, but all he really did was hold the bird down.

-He wasn't sure what to do with a human who had giant feathery wings, but figured you would teach him.

-Nero is a fast learner who adapted quickly to the situation, picking up the techniques and following your directions quite well.

-He made plenty of wisecracks the entire time, too, commenting on how you're Hawkman/Hawkgirl or something like that.

-You guys had a lot of fun, and at the end of the day, your wings were smooth, neat, and squeaky clean.

-Nero wants to do it again, so the next time your wings need grooming, let him know.

● V ●

-V has had plenty of experience grooming Griffon's wings, so this is nothing new.

-He was surprisingly unsurprised when he saw your wings, acting as if a winged human was completely normal.

-He knows what he's doing and cleans up your wings very well, perhaps even better than you do.

-He also went on a long ramble about the best cleaning supplies for different kinds of feathers, encouraging you to go to the pet store and look for the ones he recommends.

-You agree and the two of you head to Petco the next day, spending the entire afternoon looking at feather cleaning products.

-You guys had fun; V is very competent and you are more than willing to listen to his advice. 10/10, you would let him do it again.

♡ Sephiroth ♡

-Now, Sephy over here is very experienced in the art of wing grooming because he has a giant wing himself.

-He thinks yours are beautiful, possibly better looking than his, and his perfectionist mind wishes he had the symmetry of two wings like you did.

-He's like a hair stylist, but for wings, knowing exactly what to do, where to do it, and why.

-Though normally very quiet, Sephiroth won't shut up while grooming your wings, yammering on about different techniques, explaining what he's doing, etc. He's only ever done this to himself, so finally having someone to share the experience with is life changing.

-You guys often groom each other's wings because it's fun, like your special version of self-care night.

-He loves helping you take care of your wings, and you love helping him take care of his. It's now a monthly tradition.

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leftoverghosts · 1 month ago

Text

i am drowning

there is no sign of land.

Patrick's announcement hit you like a tennis ball to the gut. He had just gotten back from winning the junior US Open, but instead of celebrating together, he was ending things between you. The sharp sting of disappointment cut through your heart as you struggled to make sense of it all. This wasn't the end of your relationship, though.

find part two here.

patrick zweig x reader. patrick x tashi. mentioned tashi x art.

warnings: angst. like angst for the sake of angst. sex at the end. some curse words. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. patrick sleeps with reader for a bed.

nori says: hiiiiiii, i've been lurking in the challengers tag and now have something to contribute. this is heavily inspired by the break up scene in whiplash. it just feels so patrick coded. also, i love tashi, it's not her fault that the boys were weird about her. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 4,818

2006, September. Per Se Restaurant, Manhattan.

“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend.” Art had told Tashi, and Patrick had responded with “I do not”.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe your dad let us use his reservations. This is the coolest thing ever! I feel so grown up,” a cheerful voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sitting across from you now, celebrating his triumphant win at the Junior US Open, he can't ignore the guilt and doubts that gnaw at him. Though you were never officially a couple, there were undeniable feelings between you two and Patrick had pursued you relentlessly. He couldn't resist your sweetness, especially since you’ve been friends for so long and despite being just a teenage boy with wandering eyes fixed on tennis skirts, even he understands that you genuinely care about him.

Patrick thinks with all the agony that the thing between his legs can muster, that he’s an asshole, that he shouldn’t of fucked up this situationship only to chase after a girl who made him compete for her attention. Part of him hates himself for betraying your trust and pining after someone else, but the other part of him is drawn to Tashi in a way he can't explain. She gets him, but more importantly, she understands true tennis.

Patrick fidgets with his cup of water, tracing your name on the condensation as if it holds some sort of salvation. But deep down, he knows that no amount of apologies or excuses can change what he has done.

"Listen, I have to be honest with you," Patrick finally speaks up, his voice strained with emotion.

You pause, feeling a sense of unease settle in your stomach as you wait for him to continue.

"I can't keep pretending that this is going to work out. My dreams of becoming a professional tennis player are consuming more and more of my time and focus. And when I am with you, all I can think about is training and winning matches."

As his confession sinks in, your world tilts on its axis. The realization hits you with startling clarity - his passion for tennis surpasses everything else in his life, casting a shadow over what bloomed between you. You always knew that tennis was important to Patrick, but you never fully understood just how significant it was until now. Your mind flashes back to all the times you thought tennis was just a hobby for him, a way to cope with his parents' high expectations. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you realize that this is not how you imagined your relationship with Patrick ending. You try to hold back your emotions, but they overflow despite your best efforts.

"You'll probably start feeling like I'm ignoring you and get mad that tennis is more important to me than our relationship," he continues, regret evident in his eyes. "And if you ask me to ease up on my training, I won't be able to comply because this is my passion. It's what I was born to do."

"Where is this coming from, Pat?" you ask, your voice trembling with hurt. You had never wanted to come between Patrick and his dreams, but now it seems like there was no other option.

“It’s been building up for a while.” In the midst of shattered expectations and unspoken regrets, Patrick's gaze meets yours fleetingly before retreating, unable to withstand the weight of your hurt and disappointment. The truth hangs heavy in the air - priorities laid bare, futures diverging like roads leading into different horizons. "Because sooner or later, we will start resenting each other for not understanding our priorities. It's better to end things now before they turn toxic."

"I can't believe this, I thought we were in this together." Your palms are clammy and your heart races as you try to process everything. You had been nothing but supportive of him, rearranging your schedule whenever he came home from the academy just to spend time with him. But now he’s telling you that it wasn't enough.

"We were, but I wanna be one of the greats.” He sighs.

“And would I stand in your way?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I would, you're sure about that?” You ask, wishing this would just stop. “Yes.” He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away, unable to bear his touch after what he's done. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his face contorted with guilt and sadness, and the knowledge that he’s a liar. That this conversation is only happening because he’s chasing greatness and Tashi Duncan.

"I'm just a naive girl to you, aren't I? Someone who will never measure up to your grand ambitions.” As the words tumbled out of your mouth, your voice quivers with hurt and disbelief. You couldn't comprehend how someone that you love could make you feel so worthless. “You'll leave me behind as you chase after greatness," you cried out, feeling utterly small and insignificant in his eyes. “You don’t understand me. You never have." His accusation is like sharp, dagger-like punctuation mark, ready to cut off any lingering hopes and pierce through the heart of your relationship.

You look at him, feeling a mix of anger and heartache. "Why did you even bother pursuing me then? If your tennis career was always going to come first?"

"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never should have said those things."

His apology hangs in the air, hollow and insufficient. The bustling restaurant fades into the background as you try to comprehend the sudden change in your reality.

"Sorry doesn't fix this, Patrick," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick runs a hand through his curly hair, frustration etched across his face. "I know, I know. I'm messing everything up. It's just... there's so much pressure. The tennis, my parents, the academy. And now..."

He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You lean forward, searching his face.

"And now what, Pat? What aren't you telling me?"

Patrick's blue eyes meet yours for a moment before darting away. "There's someone else," he admits quietly.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, each shard piercing your chest with unbearable pain. The revelation hits you like a serve you never saw coming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You struggle to find words, your mind reeling from the betrayal.

"Someone else?" you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation around you. "Who?"

Patrick shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. "Her name is Tashi. We met at a party after the tournament. She's... she understands tennis in a way that—"

The name strikes a chord of recognition. Tashi Duncan. You've heard whispers about her – the rising star in the tennis world, known for her fierce determination and unmatched skill on the court. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The late-night phone calls, the distracted looks, the growing distance between you and Patrick

"That I never could," you finish for him, bitter understanding washing over you. Of course. Of course it would be someone from his world, someone who could match his ambition step for step.

"I think she could make me really happy," Patrick says, his voice pleading for you to just get it.

“You know, I really do hope that you make it. I hope you get to be number one or whatever,” You let out a wet scoff, he could have at least let you finish your meal. “But I’m glad that I’ll never understand you, Patrick.”

With those words, the conversation comes to a halt as you both sit in stunned silence. The waitress brings over your food, but neither of you have an appetite anymore. Patrick pushes his plate away, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. He realizes now that breaking things off like this is a mistake, he’s a coward, he shouldn’t have met up with you in person.

2019, August. Parking lot of a Roadside motel, New Rochelle.

Patrick slams his fist against the side of his beat-up Volkswagen Tiguan in frustration, feeling the sting of anger and disappointment course through him. His phone remains pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up, but it rings on with no answer. He begins and deletes a desperate text to you, twice, before finally you're calling back and he answers on the first ring. “Hey! Got a weird favor to ask you. Your new place is near Westchester, right?” His voice trembles with nervousness as he taps his fingers anxiously against the car door.

“A whole year, that’s a new record for you. Run out of money already?”

“Shit,” he swears under his breath, trying to use some charm or magic to convince you. “You know how the tour goes. I’ve been struggling to stay afloat. But uh, how’ve you been?” He forces a smile through the grimace as he thinks about his current financial state - a checking account with only $70 left. It’s a far cry from the greatness he once promised he was leaving you to pursue.

“Go to hell, Patrick.” The line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his face, staring at it in disbelief as if willing you to call back. He knows you, so he waits anxiously until a notification with your name appears again on the screen, accompanied by a new address.

Same day. Private residence, Bronxville.

Everyone knows that Patrick's parents have stopped providing financial support for him, and even though your own father would be furious if he knew you were aiding this deadbeat, you can't bring yourself to let him go without. It's only the occasional bit of cash for gas or food, but Patrick always finds a way to repay you in ways that you didn’t even know you needed. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you that hangs heavily in the air.

Despite everything, you can't turn him away completely, even knowing he will never truly change. Tennis is his first, great love and with the Donaldsons in town, you can't help but think Tashi might still be his second. And you, you are nothing more than a temporary lifeline – a benefactor to someone who will never truly appreciate your sacrifices.

His heart races with guilt and desperation as he parks his car and approaches your door. He knows he doesn't deserve your help, but the familiarity of these meetings brings a sense of safety.

You watch from your living room window as Patrick's battered Volkswagen pulls into your driveway. The sight of him emerging from the car, all scruffy charm and desperate energy, sends a familiar pang through your chest. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter to come.

As Patrick approaches, you open the door before he can knock. He stands there, looking simultaneously sheepish and hopeful, his eyes searching your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "Thanks for... you know."

You scoff at his attempt at gratitude, your bitterness cutting through the air like a knife. "Is that supposed to be a thank you? I didn't know you knew how to use manners," you retort, your tone dripping with resentment. It's not like you to be so angry, but Patrick always has a way of bringing out the worst in you.

You step aside, allowing him to enter and close the door after him. Patrick's eyes dart around your new place, taking in the tasteful decor and the obvious signs of your success.

"Nice place," he comments, his voice tinged with a hint of envy.

You shrug, maintaining your emotional distance. "It serves its purpose."

Patrick nods, fidgeting with the hem of his worn t-shirt. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared history.

At thirty-two years old, in the final stages of your cardiology fellowship, your father still treats you like a child who is expected to become an astronaut neurosurgeon, or some other fantastical career straight out of a Barbie movie. Meanwhile, your mother constantly laments about not having any grandchildren to spoil, as if that is the sole purpose of your existence. You often snap back with sarcastic remarks, such as suggesting that your cat could use a new diamond-encrusted bowl, a sharp retort that only serves to deepen the tension between you. The truth is, you yearn for an escape just like Patrick did. If you had any talent for tennis, you would have run away long ago.

Patrick clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "I, uh... I really appreciate you helping me out. I know I don't deserve it, after everything."

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're right. You don't deserve it. But here we are."

He takes a step closer, his gaze intense and pleading. "I never meant to hurt you. Everything just got so complicated, with tennis and Art and Tashi and—"

"Don't." You hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about her. Or about tennis. I’m not sixteen drooling over you anymore. I don’t need to pretend that I care. That's your world, Patrick. It always has been."

He looks down, shame and regret etched across his handsome features. "I know. I fucked up. I fuck everything up."

Despite your anger and resentment, a part of you softens at his vulnerability. You've known Patrick for so long, seen him at his best and his worst. And even after all the heartbreak, there's still a connection between you that refuses to die.

"Why do you keep coming back here, Pat?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?"

Patrick lifts his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, you're transported back to that fateful dinner at Per Se, when your world first began to crumble.

"Because you're the only one who really knows me," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "The only one who sees past the bullshit and the bravado. Even when I don't deserve it."

Your heart clenches at his words, the irony in them isn’t lost on you.

“I still hate you.” You say as you step forward and wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Patrick stiffens for a moment before melting into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "For everything."

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability, of connection. Tomorrow, you'll go back to your separate lives - you to your fellowship and the weight of your parents' expectations, Patrick to his endless pursuit of tennis glory and the shadow of Art Donaldson. But tonight, in the quiet of your home, you can pretend that things are different, that the choices you've made haven't led you down such divergent paths.

As the embrace lingers, the air between you shifts, charged with a familiar tension. Patrick pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking a silent question. Your breath catches in your throat as his gaze drops to your lips, and you know what comes next.

It's a dance you've done before, a temporary escape from the harsh realities of your lives. And as Patrick leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you let yourself surrender to the moment, pushing aside the hurt and resentment that has festered for so long. His hands roam your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour before this fleeting connection inevitably fades away.

You melt into his touch, your own hands tangling in his curly black hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a clash of tongues and teeth. Patrick's fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the soft skin of your waist.

A moan escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes rational thought. You tug at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the physicality of the moment.

Patrick responds in kind, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as you head towards the bedroom. You stumble together, a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothing, until you fall onto the bed in a heap.

For a moment, you stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want. His lips trail scorching kisses down your neck, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin.

"Pat," you gasp, arching into his touch as his hands touch wherever they can reach.

He pauses, hovering above you, his eyes dark with desire and something more, something akin to regret. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Tell me you don't want this."

But you can't. Because despite everything, the hurt and the anger and the years of distance, you do want this. You want him, even if it's just for tonight, even if it's a mistake you'll regret come morning.

"Don't stop," you breathe, pulling him back down to you.

Your shirt is discarded, followed by your bra, as Patrick's hands and mouth map the newly exposed skin. He lavishes attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple until they peak into hardened buds. You writhe beneath him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as the pleasure builds.

Patrick's lips trail lower, blazing a path down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes, silently seeking permission. You lift your hips in response, and he tugs the denim down your legs, taking your panties with them.

Exposed and vulnerable, you fight the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. But Patrick looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, his eyes filled with a reverence that steals your breath.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs, spreading them wider. "I never deserved you."

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your most sensitive spots. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he works you with expert precision, stoking the fire that burns within you.

Patrick slips a finger inside you, then two, curling them just so as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body tensing in anticipation.

"Pat, I'm going to—" you gasp, your words cut off by a moan as he redoubles his efforts, determined to unravel you completely.

And then you're shattering, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Patrick works you through it, his fingers and tongue gentling as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks.

He crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses to your skin as he goes. When he reaches your lips, you taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of the intimacy you've just shared.

"I need you," you whisper against his mouth, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Please, Patrick."

He helps you undress him, kicking off his jeans and boxers until he's as bare as you are. His erection springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach, and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, reveling in the velvety softness of his skin.

Patrick groans at your touch, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Condom," he grits out, reaching for his discarded basketball shorts.

You wait impatiently as he rolls the latex over his length, your body thrumming with anticipation. When he settles between your thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your breath hitches as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you deliciously as he fills you inch by inch. A low moan escapes your lips at the exquisite sensation of him inside you, his thick length pulsing with need.

Patrick stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "God, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice strained with desire. "I've missed this. Missed you."

The confession tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, the love that never quite died despite the pain and the years apart. You cling to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

He begins to move then, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that builds in intensity with each thrust. You meet him stroke for stroke, your bodies moving in perfect sync, as if no time has passed at all. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the mingled gasps and moans, the whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Patrick's mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and demanding, as if he's trying to pour all of his unspoken emotions into the press of his lips. Your fingers tangle in his curly black hair, tugging lightly as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter within you.

He shifts the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. Patrick hisses at the sting, but it only seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more forceful.

"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come around me."

Obediently, you slip a hand between your bodies, feeling the heat and sweat radiating off of Patrick's skin. Your fingers glide lazily over his chest and down towards the area of need. However, unsatisfied with your own rhythm, Patrick's fingers boldly enter your mouth, collecting the saliva and making you involuntarily gag. Without hesitating, his fingers make their way back down to their intended destination, gently nudging yours out of the way. His thumb finds your clit, tracing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sends electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.

You arch into his touch, your hands now exploring the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his happy trail.

As Patrick moves within you, his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that this means something more than a temporary escape, a fleeting connection in the midst of your fractured lives. But deep down, you know the truth.

This is all you can ever have with Patrick - stolen moments of passion, brief respites from the weight of your respective burdens. Tomorrow, you'll go back to being strangers, two people whose paths diverged long ago, held together only by the tenuous threads of history and desire.

With each deep thrust, Patrick stokes the fire building within you, pushing you closer to the brink of release. The fingers of his other hand dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he drives into you with increasing urgency, chasing his own climax.

"I'm close," he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Give me another one. Come with me, baby. I’ve got you."

The endearment slips out unbidden, a echo of the past, of the tender moments you once shared. It's enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as euphoria floods your senses. Patrick follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside you, his hips jerking erratically with the force of his release.

As your breathing slows and reality seeps back in, the weight of your history, of all the unspoken words and unresolved hurt, settles heavily in the room. Patrick rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you to him.

For a long moment, you lie tangled together, chests heaving, hearts racing in sync. Patrick's weight is a comforting presence, his face buried in the crook of your neck as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.

But as the haze of desire dissipates, reality begins to seep in, cold and unforgiving. You feel Patrick tense against you, his body growing rigid as the magnitude of what you've done settles over him. He moves away from you, tugging on his boxers in swift, mechanical movements.

The silence that stretches between you is heavy with unspoken regrets, with the bitter knowledge that this changes nothing. You pull the sheet up to cover your nakedness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh light of aftermath.

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the familiar lines of his profile, the curl of his lashes against his cheek. "What are we doing, Pat?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I don't know," he admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I just... I needed this. Needed you."

Your heart clenches at his words, a bittersweet mix of longing and resignation. You know you should put a stop to this, to the cycle of hurt and temporary solace that keeps bringing you back together. But the pull between you is too strong, the history too deep.

"I can't keep being your escape, Patrick," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I can't keep pretending that this means something more than it does."

He turns to face you then, his lake blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths. "What if it could?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if we could make it mean something more?"

For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it - a life where you and Patrick find a way to bridge the gap between your worlds, to build something real and lasting. But the dream fades as quickly as it forms, the harsh realities of your lives intruding once more.

"I wish things could be different," Patrick murmurs, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "I wish I could be the man you deserve."

Your eyes search his face for a glimmer of the boy you once knew, the one who stole your heart with his reckless charm and unbridled ambition. "We both made our choices, Pat," you whisper, your fingers reaching over to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "We can't go back.”

Patrick moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to you, shoulders hunched with the weight of his thoughts. You watch him, your heart aching with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for things to be different.

“I don’t even know what you really want from me. I doubt you do either. You’re just latching onto me because I’m something steady to grab a hold of.” Your voice is soft, tentative. “Look at me, Pat.”

He flinches at the sound of his name, as if the mere utterance is a painful reminder of the intimacy you've just shared. "Don't," he says, his tone flat, emotionless. "Please, just… don't."

You swallow back the words that threaten to spill out, the confessions and pleas that will only fall on deaf ears. Because you know, deep down, that Patrick will never be yours, not in the way you want him to be. His heart belongs to the court, to the thrill of the game, to the relentless pursuit of greatness that has consumed him for as long as you've known him. And the more it alludes him, the more desperate he is to obtain it.

And you? You're just a temporary port in the storm, a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life. A reminder of the girl he left behind, the love he sacrificed on the altar of his ambition.

Patrick stands abruptly, reaching for his discarded clothes. He dresses quickly, efficiently, his movements sharp and purposeful. You watch him in silence, a lump forming in your throat as the weight of the moment settles over you.

“Will you stop?” You sit up, pulling the blanket around you. “Just sleep here for tonight, Pat. You’re being difficult for no reason.”

Patrick's steps falter as he turns to you, his grip tight on the fabric of his shirt. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but then it transforms into a vulnerable expression that catches you off guard. He runs a hand through his hair before letting out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't ask after what happened between us...but will you come watch me play tomorrow?"

#patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers fanfic #am i too late?#noriwroteit

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daydreams-after-dark · 7 months ago

Text

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 9

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: you have your gym session with binnie.

Warnings: rough p in v sex unprotected, sex toys, spanking, exhibitionism, roleplay, degradation, name calling, masturbation.

~ Chan ~

It's all ready to go. Chan settles himself at the desk. On the table sits a laptop showing a view of the gym room floor. Next to the laptop is a bottle of lube and wet wipes.

He knows that even in his screwed up, conflicted state he will still get hard and want to masturbate. Does that make him sick? He allows himself to take comfort in knowing Jisung can step in at any moment, and that you're a willing participant who can change your mind at any time. He knows Binnie will honor your safeword.

But still, there are two things standing in the way of Chan being completely at ease with this. The first, is the chance that despite the safeguards, you could still get hurt? How will Chan ever live with himself? The second is his jealousy. Chan has had a word with himself already, that he needs to put aside his feelings, just for a couple of hours. Then he’ll tell you how he feels.

Movement on the laptop screen brings Chan back to reality. Binnie and Jisung have entered the room. Bin puts the black gym bag he's carrying down beside the bench that is used for the seated bench press, and plops himself down straddling it. He's wearing what he always wears to the gym, black sweatpants, tight black t-shirt and black cap. His muscles bulge out from his tight sleeves. He's a strong man. He can throw you around any which way he likes. Chan gulps at the thought, but his cock twitches.

What the fuck?

Jisung positions himself to the right side of the gym on a wooden bench. The gym bench that Binnie sits on is situated in the middle of the room, and there is a chin up bar nearby. There are various other pieces of equipment and weights around the room too. It's a full gym set up.

Jisung looks nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and bouncing his legs up and down.

“You alright, Jisung?” Binnie asks. The cameras have sound, which means that Chan will be able to hear every cry from you, whether it be in pleasure or pain.

“Huh?” Jisung’s head jerks up towards Bin. “Yeah, man. I- I’m good.”

Bin walks over to Jisung and places a hand on his shoulder and says something that Chan can't quite catch. Maybe Chan won't be able to hear everything after all? That bothers him somewhat, and he presses his lips together in a thin line.

Jisung nods something in response and Bin resumes his seat.

Then you walk in.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat. He bites his lip, not from arousal, but from nervousness as you proceed to the middle of the room and stand in front of Binnie. You are standing side on to the camera and Chan has a full, although side on, view of Bin, you and Jisung. You're wearing short denim shorts that are frayed at the edges and a cropped t-shirt, and the fucking tallest black heels he’s ever seen.

Chan's jealous of Jisung who is getting a behind view of you, who’s mouth drops open as he looks you up and down and then up to the camera to mouth a “Wow” at him.

Binnie leans forward as he takes you in. Silence fills the room. “Strip.” He demands. He doesn't say it loud, but he says it with authority.

Chan holds his breath. Waiting.

You don't make a move to take anything off.

Chan gulps. Do as he says, he thinks to himself.

“Ah.. So you’re an insolent little bitch are you?” Binnie snickers. “I. Said. Strip. That’s an order.” He repeats.

Do as he says or use your safe word, Chan mutters to himself.

“Make. Me.” you say defiantly.

OH fuck! Chan’s stomach drops.

Jisung looks like he's about to get up, but Binnie raises a hand to stop him.

Binnie slowly stands, walking over to you and circling you. He looks you up and down, studying you like he's weighing up what to do to you. How to punish you.

He pauses behind you, pushing himself against your back, his cock presses against your ass. Chan’s lip twitches. Binnie grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back onto his shoulder as he whispers something in your ear. Then he lets go of you, pushing you off of him, nearly making you fall to the ground. He goes back to the bench where he props the backrest up to a 45 degree position and repositions the bench slightly so that Jisung can get a better view of what is about to happen. Binnie sits back down and you slowly walk towards him stopping when you're standing right in front of him. This new angle gives Chan a better view of your face.

“Why aren’t you naked already?” Bin hisses.

Chan swears he sees a smirk cross your face. Are you enjoying taunting him?

Chan feels his dick hardening as you slide your top off to reveal no bra and hard nipples. Yep, even through the screen he can see the hard little pebbles on your breasts.

Binnie grunts in approval. “The shorts too.” He snorts and leans back.

You slide your hands to your waistband and slowly undo the button. You take another step closer to Binnie. “Make. Me.” You say again and lean in, looking Bin straight in the eye, daring him to hurt you.

With that Binnie jumps up and comes around the back of you. In one swift, move he roughly pushes you onto the bench so you are kneeling with one leg resting on it, the other foot supporting yourself on the floor, and pulls your shorts down to reveal your bare ass.

You squeal when he rubs his calloused fingers through your lips.

“You’re such a defiant little whore aren’t you? But you’re so fucking wet.” he says gruffly, slipping a finger inside you.

You arch your back to shove your ass up in the air, trying to provoke him.

“Who are you wet for?” He demands.

“Ahh… ahh… you! I’m wet for you.” You stammer.

“And what’s my name?” He growls, plunging a second finger into you.

“Ummmm… Fuckwit? Is your name Fuckwit?” You laugh, looking back at Binnie.

A sick feeling surges Chan's body. He looks to Jisung even though he knows he can't communicate anything through the camera.

Binnie laughs. “Ya! You think you’re funny don’t you, you filthy little bitch? Well I think you need putting in your place.”

He brings his hand down in a hard slap on your ass, while his fingers remain inside of you. You flinch, but your taunting laugh that follows shows you can take more. And Binnie gives you more. Slapping you until you finally whimper the words he was looking for.

“Sir… Daddy…Please…”

Binnie stops his punishment immediately.

“See that wasn’t so hard to say was it?”

“Sir,” you repeat. “Torture me some more. Show me what you can do.”

Binnie licks his lips and looked at your ass as he soothes your bright red skin with his hand.

You're enjoying yourself, thinks Chan. He begins to feel the sick feeling ease a little. The jealousy is definitely glaringly there, but that sick feeling? Well at least it has lessened.

Jisung has an obvious erection, just like Chan does, and Chan wonders if Jisung is holding back touching himself because he is confused too? Torn between being wildly turned on but also protective.

Binnie looks absolutely furious that you aren't playing along, and it only seems to make you enjoy it more.

He pulls his fingers abruptly out of your cunt. “Clean yourself off me.” He demands forcing his wet fingers into your mouth. You suck his fingers clean. Then he crouches down beside the bench, unzipping the gym bag to brandish a … dildo? He reachs in again and this time pulls out a… a butt plug?

Chan’s heart stops. Jisung’s head flings up to the camera. “What the fuck” he mouths.

Those aren't Binnie’s toys. They are yours. He knows because he’d accidentally seen the packaging at your house one time and he’d fucking teased you about it.

Why the fuck does Binnie have those?

“Here, bitch. Wet this for me.” He shoves the butt plug into your mouth where you suck and swirl your tongue around it.

Chan’s erection is painfully swollen, and Jisung’s cock has somehow made its way out of his sweatpants. But he still isn't touching himself. His eyes are fixated on what is happening before him, eyes wide.

Binnie takes the plug back and moves around behind you, and without warning he pushes it into your ass. You gasp at the sudden stretch and then your eyes roll back in your head. Binnie drops to his knees and devours your pussy with his soft lips. Aggressively nipping at you and plunging his tongue inside of you.

“Sir! Yes!!! Ahh that feels so good." You hum. “I don’t think you know what it means to punish someone. This just feels… too… nice.”

Binnie growls and becomes rougher. His hand comes up and pulls at the plug and then rams it back in.

“Ahhh…” you pant. “I think you’re all talk… you’re just a pussy.”

Binnie pulls off of you and pushes the dildo into your vagina as far as it will go. You moan as your cunt sucks it up.

Then, you look straight up and into the camera, straight at Chan. He feels like you're staring right into his soul. With the most pornographic face Chan has ever seen, you open your mouth, poke your tongue out and give him the biggest wink, before rolling your eyes back in your head and bucking your hips back onto the dildo.

Chan’s heart skips a beat and then feels like it gives out entirely.

Realisation washes over him. The high heels, the toys, the defiance, the wink… it's like it's all a show. An act.

Jisung’s words ring in his ears “you know 90 percent of what turns her on is you watching her?”

Is this a show for him?

Chan can't ignore his erection any longer and he drops his sweatpants and kicks them off the side. If this is a show then it would be rude of him not to enjoy it, right?

He squirts a generous amount or lube into his hand and coats his neglected cock then holds it at the base and begins to firmly stroke upwards and run his thumb over the tip. He lets out a shaky sigh as relief spreads over him, he's hornier that he thought.

Binnie continues to fuck you with your dildo, harder and harder with each thrust. Your whimpers becoming louder and filling the room. Chan imagines that each of your cries out of “Sir” or “Daddy” are directed at him.

Jisung’s dick is now in his hand and he's jerking off somewhat violently. Has he caught on too?

“Fuck you’re a slut for anything to fill your needy little holes.” Binnie says and abruptly slides the dildo out and throws it to Jisung.

“Here. Lick your slut’s juices off that.” He growls.

Jisung obeys, licking the dildo like a god-damned icy pole, and then deep throating it, all while still stroking his cock. Jisung is skilled at sucking things while masturbating. Chan knows that for sure.

Chan remembers the taste of you from when he sucked Jisung’s fingers that first night. He licks his lips and imagines he's tasting what Jisung is tasting right now. God, he wants to bury his face in your pussy and taste you for real.

It seems that Binnie has had enough of this position, and forces you up by your hair and dragging you to your feet. If Chan watches closely though, he can see that he isn't actually being as rough as he appears. It's as if you know what to expect.

The thought of this whole thing being planned out sits well with Chan. It means he can give himself permission to just let go and enjoy the role play, knowing that it won't go too far and you won't really be hurt. He feels a pang of admiration for Binnie too. This is definitely not his style. He likes it rough. For real.

Binnie drags your shorts off entirely but makes you leave your heels on. Then directs you to straddle the bench. While you're still standing Binnie scoots behind you and sits down. He pushes your stomach into the backrest with one hand, and releases his erect cock from his sweatpants with his other hand.

He's going to fuck you now.

——————————————————

~ EARLIER THAT DAY: y/n pov~

The recording studio.

“What did you need to talk to me about? Are you canceling on me?” you ask Binnie, feeling furious still.

He is sitting in the swivel chair by the mixing equipment while you stand in the middle of the room feeling offended that you are about to be rejected.

“Why do you want me to fuck you tonight?” he asks directly. What? Didn’t Chan tell him that you merely want to fulfill a fantasy? That it’s no big deal? Just for fun? Nothing more?

“Y/n,” his voice is soft. “Did Chan tell you how I like to fuck?”

You inhale deeply as anger rises in you. Of course you know. “What? You don’t think I can handle you?” you jeer, tilting your chin up and and crossing your arms.

Binnie scoffs and stands up and takes a step towards you. “Oh no, I actually do think you could handle everything I can do to you.” He nods then smirks as he looks you up and down then returns to his seat. “I just don’t think Chan and Jisung could handle watching me do those things to you.” His voice is sincere. He’s genuinely concerned.

“Oh.” You feel like you've been kicked in the gut. Binnie is a good friend looking out for them like this. You feel like a selfish bitch. You move to a chair and sit yourself down.

“So, that’s why I am asking you why you want me to fuck you? If the fantasy is rough and wild sex in a gym, well, do they need to watch?” He pauses for a moment. “Or, is it that the fantasy is Chan watching you? You want to make him jealous that everyone else gets to be inside your pussy except him?” He taunts you.

“No! I love Chan. He said it was all okay. I don’t want to hurt him…” tears begin to well up in your eyes as you defend yourself and your feelings.

Binnie stands up again and takes your hands in his and crouches down in front of you. His hands are much bigger than yours, and rough. But they make you feel safe. “Look,” he says. “When Chan asked me to do this favor, I asked him why the fuck is he going to watch you when he clearly has a thing for you.”

Your heart stops and your eyes widen. “What did he say?” You whisper. You need to know.

“That he’ll settle for watching you, since he can’t have you.”

“But he CAN have me!” You cry. “I want him! He just won’t do anything about it.”

“Ha! What’s stopping you from doing something about it? Can’t you tell him? Why is it up to Chan?” Binnie raises his voice sternly.

Fuck he’s right. Why are you leaving it up to Chan? What’s your problem? Why can’t you just communicate like a normal adult?

“Look,” Binnie interrupts your distressed thoughts. “Maybe we can fulfill your fantasy and do something about your feelings for Chan?… I have an idea.” He smirks and his eyes grow dark.

——————————————————

~ y/n pov ~

You are putting on a good show, Binnie and you. But now he is about to fuck you. With his cock. And you're so ready for it. You glance over at Jisung. He’s got his dick in his hand and your dildo in his mouth. It’s like he’s watching a movie. Wide eyed and absorbed. He seems fine with this. You smirk.

You wonder what Chan is thinking? Is he turned on? Is he dealing with an erection? Or is he dealing with jealousy and anger?

You wonder if he noticed your obvious hint that you're not actually being submissive at all? That right now Binnie and you are a team. And your goal is to get Chan so fucking riled up that he has to do something about it. Plus, there will be a surprise at the end. Plus… you want Chan to punish you. Just like Jisung said in the pool. You'd be punished if you come on another man’s cock. Minho is excluded from this rule you decide. No one knows about that. That, doesn’t count.

You intend to have the loudest, most intense orgasm you can muster tonight.

You hold onto the backrest of the bench for dear life as you feel the head of Binnie’s cock at your entrance. He wraps a hand in your hair for leverage, the other pushes your ass cheek aside. Then he pulls you down hard onto his cock.

“Ahhh..” You let of a cry as you take in his entire length. You feel so full with the plug in your ass and Binnie in your cunt.

He lifts your hips up with one hand, the other still tangled in your hair, and drags you back down over his length.

“Your pussy fucking loves my cock doesn’t it?” he growls. He leans in closer “Are you doing okay?” he whispers as he pretends to bite down on your ear.

“Yes… yes. Sir… I love your cock.. Fuck me… Ahh” You yell, letting him know 'yes you're good'.

When he gets sick of that position Binnie pushes you up off his penis.

“Turn around.” He instructs, gruffly. “You need you to see who’s tearing up your pussy.” God his dirty talk is something.

As you stand up, Binnie pulls the plug out and throws at Jisung, who looks at it longingly, but his hands are full and so it just falls to the floor. You climb off Binnie only to turn and around and straddle him again. Now your back is against the back rest, and you're looking straight at him. He hooks his bulging arms underneath your thighs, easily picking you up. You think he’s going to ram you down on his cock full force, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he lowers you ever so slowly onto his length, eyes fixed on yours as bit by bit his cock stretches you open again. He doesn’t look away. Not for a second. You swallow a gulp of air and a small whimper escapes your lips.

“That’s right, slut, feel how good my dick fills you up.” His words are dirty but his eyes don’t match them at all. They’re soft and kind, and hooded the way eyes go when they are flooded with desire.

Slowly, slowly he lowers you down further over his shaft. He finally has you completely impaled on his cock and yet he doesn’t move. He doesn’t bounce you up and down. He doesn’t roll his hips. He just stares at you.

It feels like an eternity has passed when he finally does do something. He brings his left hand to your neck feigning pressure. It’s not tight at all. Then his eyes slowly drop to your breasts. His soft lips part ever so slightly and you see the hint of his tongue, poking the tiniest bit out of the corner of his mouth. He gasps almost silently and his right hand reaches to cup your breast. His skin is rough but he is being so soft. Unconsciously, he licks his lips and then bites into his lower lip. Not hard, just softly. Tenderly.

You're melting under his gaze and quivering under his touch. You're trying to hide it. His right hand slowly moves down your body, exploring your soft curves to reach around and rest on your ass. Your skin is burning. His eyes follow his hand as it moves from your neck down to your center where you're connected, and he watches his thumb as it slides through your lips and over your clit. Just once.

And then it happens. It isn’t supposed to. Not yet. You can’t stop it. Binnie feels it too. His eyes dart up to yours. You try to suppress it, but your legs begin to shake and your inner walls pulse around his cock. Your orgasm overwhelms you but you try to stay silent and not show Chan and Jisung that this is happening. You bite down hard on your lip. Binnie gently massages your ass - where the others can’t see, and his eyes silently tell you “he’s got you, it’s okay”.

He waits until you've come back down to earth before taking the lead. You need to finish this off properly.

“Change of plans.” He pulls you up by my hair, but at the same time lifting you with the hand he still has on your ass so he doesn’t actually rip your hair out. You squeal in pretend pain.

“I think you need tying up now.” He laughs sinisterly.

He pushes you towards the chin up bar. You sneak a glance at Jisung who is eyeing you off suspiciously, but is highly aroused. His cheeks are flushed and there is a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

You stand over near the chin up bar and you can feel your wetness leaking out of you and coating your inner thighs. Your legs are shaky. How are you going to continue?

Binnie grabs his boxing wraps and ties your hands up to the chin up bar’s frame. He kicks your legs apart, ready to fuck you again. The ties around your hands aren’t actually very tight and you can easily slide your hands down the frame that holds up the bar so I can steady yourself. Binnie grabs onto your breasts and whispers in your ear “I’m going to fuck you hard now, okay?” he warns you and he squeezes himself back inside you from behind. You're so tight and so wet from your orgasm that he can’t help but let out a shaky moan as you grasp his cock like a vice.

“Sir… please…” You cry out.

Binnie really fucks into you mercilessly. Pounding you so hard that the tell-tale sounds of rough sex - skin slapping skin, the wet noises of bodily fluids, the moaning and panting of pleasure - fills the room. It sounds so filthy you feel like you're an actual porn star right now.

Binnie fucks you like this for a few solid minutes while growling dirty words and derogatory names, and you cry out over and over in response. In your mind you're picturing that Chan is the one behind you and inside you. You remember the way he fucked your face, and imagined he was fucking your pussy like that. You imagine being filled up by Chan and Jisung at the same time, stretching you and filling you up more than you ever have been before. You imagine Chan’s tongue sliding in and out of your mouth while he holds you gently. You imagine sucking Jisung’s cock and hearing him come undone the way he does.

Your eyes feel prickly and your heart feels heavy. You love them. You really fucking love them.

Binnie can feel you're close again and that you're starting to fall apart.

“Are you going to come for me? All over my cock?” he snarls. All you can manage is a loud cry. Binnie is really railing into you and you're losing your footing. You slide your hands a little more down the pole and lean forward for extra support. You're almost there.

“Whose cock are you going to come on, huh?” Binnie growls thrusting into you so hard you feel like you're going to choke.

“D-daddy’s… Daddy’s cock…” You yell loudly so everyone can hear.

“Ahhh… that’s right. And who’s your Daddy?” He slams into you hard. Once. Twice. Three… You're coming.

“Who does your pussy belong to?” Binnie roars not stopping for a second.

“Chan!” You cry as you clench and pulse around Binnie. “I belong to Chan… Chan and Jisung.” You stammer.

You feel like you're going to crumble, but Binnie supports you by slipping his arm around your waist and holding you close. He slides himself out of you and jerks himself off until he ejaculates in his hand.

You hear a stifled whimper to your left. You turn your head to Jisung sitting frozen, wide eyed and with cum all over himself.

You kick your heels off, finally, and Binnie ensures you're standing steady before he walks over to his gym bag. He takes out two towels and your robe, tossing it and one of the towels to Jisung.

Jisung is at your side in a heartbeat, untying your hands, whispering praise, and helping to put on your robe.

“You are the most perfect woman in the world. You did so good.” He showers you with kisses and you want to sink into his body and be held by him forever. He pulls back and whispers “You came before… didn’t you? On the bench?” Your eyes widen. He saw it. You nod.

“I knew it! I know your cum face.” He teases.

“So does that mean I will have to be punished twice then.. You know for coming on someone else’s cock two times?” You joke.

“Na-uh.” Jisung shakes his head. “Three times… Hyunjin.” He winks at you.

You turn bright red. How does Jisung know fucking everything?

“So…” Binnie coughs and clears his throat. You and Jisung turn around. “Well, my job is done. I’m going to bed. You know… you guys must be pretty fucked up if this is how you declare your love for each other.” He says to you shaking his head as though you are well and truly mad.

“Hey Binnie,” You call out and he stops to turn back to you. “Thanks.” You smile. You hold each other’s gaze for a moment, his eyes soft like when he drank in your naked body earlier. You think about the orgasm he drew from you and you bite your lip. He nods ever so slightly as though acknowledging your thoughts, then turns and leaves, carrying his now empty gym bag over his shoulder.

~ Chan pov ~

Chan sits there dumbfounded, unable to move. Cum plastered all over him, like it has exploded out of nowhere.

You belong to him? You'd said it. He’d heard the words. You belong to him and Jisung.

You wants to be with them.

Chan lets out a shaky exhale as he processes what he’d just witnessed, and then he grabs some wet wipes in attempt to clean himself up.

You and Jisung are now making out on the side bench. You're straddling him and he has his arms around you- inside the the robe - just kissing. Sweetly.

Chan closes the laptop. He doesn't need to keep watching. He's too busy dealing with his cum explosion and a surge of emotion that he can't seem to control. Tears begin to well up in his eyes and spill out down his face. You're his. The thought keeps repeating itself in his mind.

He imagines all the things he wants to do to you, with you, with you and Jisung, that he couldn’t let himself imagine before. He doesn't know what he wants to do to you first.

Part of him wants to go slow and tenderly, dragging out every moment, penetrating you painfully slowly and then taking his time to fuck you properly until you're a whimpering mess.

Part of him wants to absolutely ravish you, tear your clothes off, dig his fingers into your hips and fuck you hard and fast until you scream your lungs out.

He wants to be buried inside your ass at the same time Jisung fills your pussy, moving in unison and bringing each other to orgasm.

But Chan is going to get the chance to do all of it. Over and over. More than once.

You are theirs.

You and Jisung were his.

~ y/n pov~

Binnie leaves the gym and Jisung picks you up, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and carries your back to the wooden bench he was sitting on.

Your mouths don’t want to break contact. He feels like home. Your hands cup his face and you stroke his hair. His hands find their way inside your robe and roam your bare skin.

“I’ve missed you baby.” Jisung says between kisses.

“It’s only been since this morning.” you chuckle softly. You pull away and lean back to study his face, still cupping his adorable cheeks. You bring your thumb to his eyebrow, tracing it delicately. All he can do is stare back at you. He looks smitten and your heart swells.

How can you be in love with a man you couldn’t even imagine sleeping with merely days ago? And yet here you are. In fucking love. Hard. You've fallen hard. For him and Chan.

“Even and hour is too long.” Jisung beams at you. “y/n?” he asks. “Are you really gonna be with us? Is it really true? You’re not lying?” He looks at you with desperate hope.

You lean your forehead against his and your hands rest around his neck. Jisung’s hands settle on your hips. It’s not a sexual moment. No one is grinding or trying to slip a dick in. It feels like much much more than that. This is special.

“Yes, baby. It’s true. I love you.” You whisper and fall onto his mouth again for the most emotionally charged kiss you've had so far. Your tongue’s softly touching, your lips gently nipping. Your hearts singing. Your whole body tingling.

After what feels like forever but not nearly long enough, Jisung breaks the kiss.

“Let’s go find Chan, shall we?” he says, and picks you up and carries you out of the gym room, leaving behind your clothes, heels and sex toys.

Jisung carries you all the way to your room. “Let’s get you showered and fresh first.” He says.

You lean against the sink as Jisung turns on the shower taps and adjusts the temperature. Then he takes off his clothes and steps inside.

“Come on baby.” He holds out his hand and helps you step into the shower. Then he washes your body gently, soaping you up and rinsing you off. He is so careful and attentive that you're half ready to jump him. You could just wrap your legs around his waist and have him push you up against the shower wall. Or, you could kneel down and give him his first blow job from you. Or, you could ask him to eat you out.

Instead, you just watch him as he washes you, a silly grin plastered all over your face.

Jisung wraps his arms around you waist and kisses you. “I can’t wait to make love to you.” He says. You feel your whole body swoon. Jisung knows how to make you forget the rest of the world exists.

“I can’t wait either, Jisung.” You really can’t wait to have slow, sensual sex with him.

You finish up in the shower and you put on a long t-shirt and a pair of lacy panties. A thought of Chan ripping them off you crosses your mind and your breath hitches for a moment.

You turn around to find Jisung standing in the middle of the room naked. “I didn’t bring a spare set of clothes to your room.” He shrugs.

“So you’re just going to walk up the hall naked?” you ask lightly.

“I’m staying here.” He says as he runs towards the bed and jumps face first on the mattress. Then he proceeds to wriggle his arms and legs like a bug.

“Eww Jisung, stop rubbing penis germs all over my bed.” You screw your face up. “Anyway, aren’t you coming with me?” Aren’t you supposed to find Chan together.

Jisung rolls onto his back, finds the edge of the quilt and starts rolling himself up in it like a sausage. “I think Chan will want to be alone with you… for this first time. He’s wanted you for so long. Far longer than this retreat.” His words are heartfelt but he looks so childish right now wrapped up like that.

You suddenly feel butterflies in your stomach at the realization that you're going to be with Chan tonight. Finally. It’s going to happen.

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes

#skz smut #chan smut #chan x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung reader #sorshas fic

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thelampisaflashlight · 5 months ago

Text

Dress Down

[Based on this ask I sent @iamthecomet , Rain is more than a little obsessed with the way Dew is dressed for their ghouls night out at the bar.] Below the cut.

If there's one thing Aether's good at, it's finding a decent bar in the middle of nowhere; He's like a bloodhound for booze, if such a thing could exist, and, while any place would do given how long it has been since the pack has gotten to go out in full force like this, he doesn't settle for anything less than the best.

"Best" being pretty much anywhere that can tolerate their loud, obnoxious asses for more than an hour before trying to kick them out.

Admittedly, though, this outing isn't exactly a celebratory one -some of them might be celebrating, but if they are, they won't dare to say it out loud- really, it's more of a means of destressing and perhaps unpacking a bit of the events that unfolded while they were on tour.

Sister Imperator's death, Copia stepping down from the title of Papa and stepping up to take his mother's place as Frater Imperator... Really, it's a mixed bag of emotions all around, and none of them are quite sure how to feel about, well... everything.

Least of all the older, more seasoned ghouls, who had already witnessed what "retirement" had meant for the previous Papas, though they were mostly hopeful that Copia would not meet the same fate as his predecessors now that his new position was solidified.

Mountain, for example, had breathed a sigh of relief seeing the placard on his office door change from Papa IV to Frater Imperator and not "Papa V", not quite ready to accept life under new leadership just yet.

Now nursing a bottle of lager, the earth ghoul has pressed himself into the corner of the cozy, red pleather bench he's sharing with Cumulus and Cirrus, looking more flushed in the face than expected after only one drink, but, despite appearances, the man's always been a lightweight.

On the opposite side, Swiss is talking to Aeon and Aurora in an animated fashion, hands gesturing wildly as he tells some tall tale or another that's probably only a hair away from the truth, and Dew can't help but roll his eyes when he sees the younger quintessence ghoul looking at the multi ghoul all doe-eyed, thoroughly enraptured by his story.

Personally, Dew's not really in the mood to be out on the town tonight, like Mountain, he's thinking a bit too much about what's to come, too stuck in his head about the what ifs and when's of the situation to really relax and enjoy himself.

He's trying though; Holding a sweaty glass of whatever cheap piss the bar had on tap, because- "No, Aeth, I'm not doing shots with you after what happened last time!"- he'd rather drink something closer to water than relive that experience again, he takes little sips, cringing at the bitter taste.

He's never been much of a beer drinker, he used to be, kind of, he was really more of a "anything that gets me wasted" drinker, but he's toned it down over the last couple of years to the point that certain types of alcohol just don't appeal to him at all anymore, beer least of all.

He gives a bigger sip and sticks his tongue out, hearing Swiss laughing at him from the booth, flipping him off when he sees him whisper the word "princess" under his breath.

"You should get something you'll actually like instead of trying to impress literally no one by drinking shitty beer." Aether says, slipping the glass from his palm and downing it himself, "Eugh, at least something better than this swill... Try a cocktail or something."

Dew grimaces, "Fuck no, I feel sick just smelling anything sweet anymore, plus I don't want a nasty hangover tomorrow..."

"Just switch it up, yeah?" Aether suggests, then whispers, "If you just want a fancy soda, I won't tell anyone else otherwise... I know it's hard not to drink when everyone else is."

"I appreciate that..." Dew says, giving his friend a genuine smile, "I'm okay drinking tonight, since it's a special occasion, kind of, just gonna take it easy though, ya know?"

Aether nods and claps him on the shoulder once before heading off to join the others, scooting a chair over to the table so he doesn't have to take a seat away from them.

Dew considers his options.

He could just order a fancy soda or a mocktail, Hell, the bar even had that weird canned water that looks like a tallboy can of beer, but he keeps the idea in his pocket for later, and instead orders himself the sweetest looking glass of rosé he can find on the drink menu.

He sips it slowly and lets the liquid coat his tongue.

Sitting at the bar with his drink, Dew can't help but feel like a bit of wallflower; Everyone else around him seems to be having a good time, and even went through the trouble of dressing up for the occasion and he's just...

Dew looks down at his outfit, at his lightly stained hoodie, his black skinny jeans with holes in the knees -and another, smaller one near his crotch that is subtly hidden by the black of his boxers beneath- that have seen better days, and his ratty Converse sneakers with dark smudges on the white rubber tips.

He doesn't exactly scream fashion when compared to Swiss, who's wearing a borderline gaudy silk shirt and tight slacks that leave little to the imagination, or Cirrus, who is absolutely rocking a very low cut shirt, braless, and jeans that could very well just be painted on with how closely they hug her curves...

...Or Rain, who took two whole hours to get ready and now looks like the goth nightmare queen of his fucking dreams.

Rain, who has been cozying up to the bartender for the last hour or so, giggling and batting his long lashes at her in an incredibly unsubtle way that is certainly NOT making Dew jealous whatsoever and-

"Aw, fuck."

Dew curses as a bit of his wine sloshes out onto his pant leg, not enough to lose his drink entirely, but enough for him to feel the splash of it against his thigh as it all seems to hit exactly where the rip in his pants is.

Standing up almost urgently, Dew makes his way to the bathroom in hopes of blotting up the mess before it can trickle down his leg and make it look like he pissed himself, but, as soon as he manages to slip inside and shut the door... he hears it open behind him just as quickly.

"You alright?" Rain asks, looking less concerned and more... Dew isn't really sure how to place the expression on the water ghoul's face.

Between his glamour and the make-up obscuring his familiar features, Dew's a little at a loss for what the face he could be making could mean, but the tone...

"I'm fine."

"Good."

Rain closes the door behind them and locks it in one swift motion, briefly walking over to examine the stalls before returning to Dew and-

"Rainy, what are you doing-"

-dropping onto his knees in front of him.

"You've been driving me crazy all night, baby." Rain purrs, running a hand down both his legs, pressing a kiss to his knee, "Dressed up all cute..."

Dew feels a heat creeping up over his face.

"Me? Cute? What, no, I'm..." Dew flusters, "You're the one that's driving ME crazy, Rainy. Look at you."

"Yeah?" Rain coos, "You like what you see?"

He leans back for a moment, putting himself on full display; The flouncy white shirt with the ruffled sleeves, the black corset, the lacy skirt rucked up to expose the black and white socks underneath, and Satanas, the heels...

Rain looks sinfully gorgeous, and here he is, on his knees, telling Dew that HE looks cute, no, there's just no way-

"Can I taste you, Gumdrop?" he asks, leaning in to squish his face against the wet patch on his inner thigh, inhaling deeply, "Please?"

What kind of man would Dew be to deny someone as pretty as Rain what he wants?

"O-Okay..." he whispers, and no sooner do the words leave his mouth, than does Rain's latch onto him, nibbling at him through the whole in his jeans, "Rainy!"

"Shhh..." Rain shushes him, "You have to be quiet, okay, sweetheart? Or do you want the whole bar to hear you, hm? Make a big scene of the door being locked and have them wondering what's happening in here..."

Dew groans as Rain moves to undo his zipper.

"You're so sensitive, you know that?" he teases, "I haven't even gotten my mouth on you properly and you're already ready to give me everything, aren't you?"

"Can't help it...You're just so... so beautiful..." Dew whines as Rain eases his pants and underwear down just enough to expose his ass -and disappointingly not his cock- to the cool air of the bathroom- "Rainy-"

"Said I wanted to taste you, didn't say which part~" Rain says, standing smoothly and bullying Dew up against the counter between the sinks, he stumbles a bit as the other tugs his jeans down further and flushes when the other drags him up with an almost comical, "Upsie-daisy."

Dew feels his back press into the mirror behind him as Rain forces his legs up in the air, and has to slap his hands down on the marble to keep himself from sliding down, "Really, this is-"

He doesn't quite get to finish his sentence before Rain dives in, earning a gurgled moan from Dew as he feels Rain's clever tongue lap at his hole.

"Not fair, Rain, I should be-"

Rain pauses, breathing hot, wet air onto his skin, chuckling, "You should be what? The one fucking me?"

Dew sinks into his hood a bit, mumbling, "Y-Yeah..."

"Hm... Let me think about it..." Rain pretends to consider Dew's request, then with a happy chirp, dismisses the idea entirely, "No, sorry, don't think so, love. Maybe later, but you're not the one who paid off the bartender to make people use the other restroom for the next hour."

"You d-did that...?" if Dew wasn't blushing before, he was certainly pinker than his rosé now, "That means-"

Rain leans over top of him, coming nose to nose with the ghoul on the counter, "She knows I'm fucking you? Yeah."

"Told her you were gonna spill your drink on yourself as an excuse to sneak into the bathroom with me in case she didn't believe me, and then you just happened to pour just a liiiittle bit of wine on your pants and run off..." he says, rubbing their faces together lightly as Dew feels Rain's long fingers tickle his sides, "...Just a tiny wave of my hand and just like that, you're all mine."

"You-"

"So if you think I'm going to let you top after all the effort I went through putting together this outfit and locking this place down, you are sorely mistake, mon cheri~"

"Oh no..." is all Dew manages to say before Rain sets about taking him apart with his mouth again.

It's not long before he's moved again, pressed against the wall, legs spread with his pants pulled down awkwardly to give Rain enough access to slam inside of him as he holds onto him for fear he might tumble onto the floor, unable to bring his legs together to wrap them around Rain's lithe form thanks to his strong arms holding them apart.

Rain is relentless as he pounds into him, and Dew feels the back of his head bump into the tile with every other motion, until Rain shows mercy and hooks one of his legs over his hip and cushions the blow with his hand.

It's a difficult position to maintain, and Dew's pretty sure aside from Rain's impressive grip strength, the other thing keeping him aloft right now is his dick, and something about that has Dew's brain going more than a little screwy.

He's entirely unprepared for when Rain cums inside of him, shockingly cold and a reminder that, right, even in his glamour, Rain's still a water ghoul, and his seed is nothing if not colder than the depths of Hell's frozen lake.

Dew shivers and latches onto Rain, curling against him in a desperate search for warmth, and he finds it in the gentle kisses Rain gives the side of his face.

"Come on, baby, your turn, your turn, Dewdrop."

It's hardly the most impressive orgasm he's ever had, but it's certainly one of the gentlest, and as he dully becomes aware of how he's managed to cum so hard he's painted the front of Rain's silly, flouncy blouse, he can't help but laugh a little.

"You're going to get punished for that later..." Rain clicks his tongue, "For now... gimme your hoodie."

"Can't..."

"Oh? Why not?"

Dew looks up at him coyly, "'m not wearing anything underneath it..."

Rain makes a hurt sound in the back of his throat, "If I'd known that, I would have insisted you took it off first... Oh well, let's see..."

He slides his phone out of his shirt, checking the time, "We still have another fifteen minutes..."

"Rain?"

"How about I give you your punishment now?"

"O-Oh-"

"Geezus, Froggy, you doin' okay, you keep looking like you're gonna fall off the sidewalk the way you're moving..." Aether sighs, pulling Dew upright as the shorter ghoul lurches forward for the third time on their walk home -none of the local cabs would take them... shocker- "I thought you weren't going to drink that much tonight?"

"Didn't..." Dew cringes, pinching his eyes shut and stopping entirely for a moment before regaining his composure, "...Remind me to get rid of these pants..."

Aether furrows his brow, then whispers, "Did you fucking piss yourself or-"

"No!" Dew shouts, drawing the sluggish attention of their drunken friends and one all too pleased looking water ghoul, lowering his voice, "No... It's just... Rain... Inside... and it's..."

The quintessence ghoul looks between Dew's flushed face and Rain's smug grin and puts two and two together easily, "While we were at the bar-"

"No, while we were walking home just now- Yes at the fucking bar!" Dew hisses, "...Twice."

"Rain!" Aether calls over to the ghoul, earning a panicked, squeaky, "Whatareyoudoing-" from Dew before the ghoul motions for him to come over and, "Take some responsibility and carry your boy home, will ya??"

And that's how Dew finds himself hoisted up onto Rain's back -thankfully not fully up onto his shoulders- and, in a way, getting to be on "top" for the first time that evening.

Swiss, despite being piss drunk, takes time out of his busy schedule -trying to climb every light post they pass by- to walk beside them and tease him about just that, albeit none the wiser to the events that unfolded in the bathroom.

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #raindrop #rain/dewdrop #cw alchohol mention #cw alcohol

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pastel-medic · 6 months ago

Note

So, wait, if Axel is the Spy that Red Medic removed the head of, how are they in a relationship? Wouldn't that spawn some kind of resentment?

I'm going to trigger warn this post for topics of s//cide, depression, and poor health because I can't exactly explain their dynamic without getting into Axel's mental health. I tried to make this as brief as I could but it ended up becoming an oc ramble anyway 😭 sorry in advance for the long post!!!

Also please note my personal lore and hcs for them isn't strictly based on canon lore, so RED Medic having Axel's head in fridge is due to different reasons than just being a crazy doctor :V

You have been warned!!!

This will be delving a bit more into Axel's character, and a lot of this I will try not to spoil too much as it is a plot point in an ongoing fic I'm writing.

Axel is, to put it simply, someone who struggles immensely with self identity and has a very nihilistic point of view. Working as a Spy for years since he was young has created a sense of worthlessness in his mind, as he viewed himself as a nobody who wears the faces of other people (especially after an incident that I won't detail since it's spoilers). He hasn't been able to hold relationships because he constantly "changes his identity", adopting a new fake name and fake history with every new assignment he's given while leaving the people he once formed bonds with behind once his work is done.

On top of that the people who had taught him to be a Spy often compared him constantly to his brother Pierre (RED Spy), so he never felt like he was good enough. He developed depression when he was a young adult and hasn't been able to cope in healthy ways, which led to him having very poor health and malnutrition. Every time he was offered help and support he rejected it out of fear and ran away (metaphorically and literally), the folly of pride and the guilt of being a burden to someone else. He's had many s//cidal tendencies (a lot of Axel is split from my personal trauma so bear with me), and believed that if he were to just disappear one day nobody would notice. He's waiting, HOPING, that one day he can just disappear forever...

So when he's taken by the RED Medic as a mere head in a fridge imagine his confusion when the enemy doctor refuses to kill him immediately no matter what he says. "Kill me" he keeps saying. "Later" is the only response he gets. Yet the doctor doesn't ever seem to want to. At first Axel thinks it's because of scientific curiosity, and he'd be right at first, but that's not the real reason Medic keeps him around. As it turns out Ludwig has a slightly twisted and odd excuse for keeping him around.

Seeing the Spy in a state of self destruction and withering health hurts Ludwig as a medical professional. A doctor's duty to heal others is something that even with his crazy mind still remains true. He can't help but feel the need to heal this person, his own enemy, who has become nearly broken beyond repair. He wants to help the Spy, but his solution is pretty bizarre and unconventional. If he keeps the Spy around he can try to heal the brokenness in his mind. As a head in a fridge he can't run away from the help offered to him. He realizes he doesn't want to just heal the Spy, he wants to help him; He wants to give Axel that feeling of value in his life that he struggles to have. He wants to be the person who can save Axel no matter how insane his methods are, a Don Quixote.

He wants to help Spy live.

"You are not the masks you wear, nor are you a nobody without them. You are you. And you are important no matter what."

As foolish as this logic is it's effective, as it doesn't give Spy that door to escape to. Now he HAS to see the damage to himself. Though the longer Spy stays with the enemy Medic the more he can see that he isn't the only one who needs healing. Out of all the people Ludwig can heal, he doesn't seem to be able to want to heal himself. All of his struggles are private, and he keeps the pain hidden away behind closed doors. It seems Spy is not alone when it comes to blocking others out. Medic knows he has sins crawling up his back, yet he actively pretends the Devil on his shoulder isn't there. Yet the more he ignores his mental strain the more volatile and unstable it becomes. He cannot see the damage he is inflicting on himself, and Spy knows he will continue to turn a blind eye unless he sees the harm it is causing. Regardless of how crazy it is, he realizes he wants to help the doctor too.

Spy wants to be someone who can help Medic see his self worth, a mirror to show him that he is more than simply a healer for others.

"How can you help those around you if you refuse to help yourself? You are deserving of healing too."

TL;DR to reiterate one of my previous posts about my MedicSpy ship their dynamic has always been about healing and finding security and comfort in someone who cares about you. Yes they have their flaws and are not perfect by any means, but they uplift and support each other because they care.

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vampykween · 1 year ago

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see you through my eyes

this is my first time posting smut omg, if you liked this show me some love please! i have more where it came from hehe

ghost x f!reader

nsfw mdni, p in v sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex

you're sure you've never blushed so hard before, "i don't know simon, won't it be weird to see myself, like that?" you don't understand why simon wants to fuck you in front of a mirror so badly, in fact, you can't think of anything worse than staring at yourself while you're in the throes of passion. sex with simon is otherworldy and there's no way you look runway-ready after he's done wrecking you.

"i want you to see yourself the way i see you, love," simon tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you lean in when he caresses your cheek. he tilts your head up to have your eyes meet his, "will you try just once, and if you hate it we won't do it again," he asks gently. something about the way he's looking at you makes you want to do anything he asks and you're not one to shy away from a challenge.

"okay," you nod your head shyly, then you shake away your nerves and respond again, "okay, i want to do this.'

"my brave girl," he leans down to whisper in your ear and purrs, "i'm gonna make this so fucking good for you baby."

you definitely get it now. you were only focused on having to watch yourself and forgot that you would be able to see simon too. you love to watch his reactions as he thrusts deeply into you. he has you bent over your bathroom counter and you're holding on for dear life as simon lives up to his promise of making it so good for you. your brain is slowly turning into mush as you focus on the way simon is hitting the deepest parts inside of you.

"simon, oh my god," you pant out as he holds one of your legs up, changing the angle and somehow fucking into you even deeper. your eyes slip shut as you give into the earth-shattering pleasure.

"eyes on the mirror. look at yourself love, look at what i see. god, you look so beautiful when i fuck you. and you’d look even prettier when you're cumming 'round my cock." his other hand reaches around and circles your clit rapidly, sending you hurtling towards the edge. it only takes a minute more and then your body bows tight like a drum as you orgasm on your boyfriend's cock. you can feel simon close behind as his thrusts grow more erratic and with a guttural groan he fills you. he puts your leg back down and you slump forward onto the bathroom counter, feeling thoroughly debauched.

"my good girl, c'mon let's clean you up," simon says as he leads you toward the shower.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #vampykween #mic writes

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dichromaticdyke · 11 months ago

Text

Analyzing Skwisgaar's Nightmare in "Dethlessons"

requested by @claudia-nomusaabara

hi. anyone else obsessed with grub toki?

let's get the context of this scene out of the way. toki has started going to get guitar lessons from dimneld selftcark, and nathan, pickles, and murderface have lied to skwisgaar and told him that those lessons have helped him improve. and we see that skwisgaar is not pleased with this situation.

the dream goes like this:

skwisgaar opens up his bedroom window from a deformed version of mordhaus. the whole scene is very post-apocalyptic and almost eldritch. looking at it visually, this is a world ruled by guitars. we see skwisgaar's explorer, toki's flying v, and even what appears to be dimneld's les paul.

there is a second skwisgaar. he is holding a deflated husk of toki's head. that thing is barely holding onto life, it is spurting out liquids. skwisgaar has a very neutral expression when looking at it. meanwhile, the original skwisgaar is trying to make a call while the other skwisgaar buries the toki head.

the other skwisgaar sees the dethklok helicopter fly overhead, and it fades to a shot of skwisgaar performing in front of a crowd--he is by himself, the rest of dethklok are not with him and he is not in his corpse paint. though the crowd is cheering for him, he can't play. his hands have become deformed stumps, and his guitar is made of flesh, a large gnawing mouth on the body.

we flash back to the original skwisgaar in the deformed mordhaus. he's still trying desperately make his call, but his hands have also become deformed. the skwisgaar that was burying the toki head is shocked. the toki head is no longer deflated and pathetic. it has started to grow out from the ground, taking on a more distinct floral shape. whereas before it looked like it was close to death, now it is fighting for life. (below/right screenshot was edited for less brightness/exposure).

the toki flower starts gnawing at the air, similar to the fleshy guitar that it flashes to briefly. then we change scenes to skwisgaar using a urinal in a public restroom. while pissing, he notices in the urinal an insect-like creature that has toki's signature fu manchu mustache. it is also pathetic and whimpering.

this is what sends skwisgaar falling down into the abyss. scene change. the two skwisgaars see a massive toki emerge. he is hulking, monstrous, his arms are two explorer guitars with mouths on the end.

the toki flower does...THIS???? the hulking toki makes a similar face, his eyes have also become mouths.

skwisgaar wakes up.

so, here are some themes i notice pretty quickly: 1) toki being seen as week/below skwisgaar, 2) growth, 3) hands, 4) mouths. taking this step by step:

1) skwisgaar sees himself as living in a world ruled by music. everything else is second to that. guitar rules his over his entire life. toki was someone he tried to nurture. we know from DSR that skwisgaar was the one who invited him into the band despite the fact that, for all intents and purposes, toki failed his audition--skwisgaar just saw something in him that no one else did. we also see from earlier in this episode that skwisgaar has no problem "teaching" toki, he just has a very particular way of doing it; an unhelpful way. he recognizes toki's talent, but he always will see him as being beneath him--or at least he always wants him beneath him, offering to help him grow because he knows he has the capacity and the raw talent for it, but refusing to help him in a way that would allow him to surpass him. skwisgaar is burying the husk of toki's head because it is nearly drained. there's not much left for him to give. but the other skwisgaar is trying desperately to call him, but he can't (or won't) hear these pleas. the other skwisgaar represents his knowledge of toki's ability. he's trying to warn his other self not to be dismissive of toki.

i also see the grub toki as representing toki when he first met skwisgaar. just a lost, pathetic kid who desperately needed anything to help him out. skwisgaar obviously saw something in him, but he was still so far beneath him. going from grub toki to skwisgaar falling down an abyss represents, in part, to me, the spiral that inviting this kid over would lead him down.

2) the fact that forms of toki grow not once, but twice. we have the head husk growing into the flower, representing that, even when skwisgaar seemingly gives up on toki, that's not going to stop him from growing. you could even argue that skwisgaar is holding him back from growing, and i do agree with that to an extent (skwisgaar is too afraid of failure and no longer being number one that he doesn't think of how he's hurting toki, he's just one-track mind).

"oh but mj you said pathetic forms of toki grow twice in this dream? only the toki head husk grows." you sweet summer child. you babe wrapped in swaddling cloth. what do you think the grub toki is? and i don't mean literally, because i don't know what the fuck cursed larva specimen he is. but remember what i said? the initial shot of the toki flower flashes to the deformed guitar before flashing to grub toki. they're all connected!!!! we also see grub toki right before hulking toki emerges, and hulking toki has the deformed guitar as hands. it is my correct theory that grub toki was a thirtsy little flower that was watered by skwisgaar's pee and became hulking toki. the flashes between flower toki and hulking toki with similar faces also reinforces the idea that they're similar creatures that skwisgaar had given up on but had used skwisgaar's degradation and dismissal to their advantage and to surpass him.

3) the biggest threat skwisgaar could have, outside of toki surpassing him, is something happening to his hands. you can't fuck up a guitarist's hands, that's kind of their whole thing. I WROTE A FIC ABOUT IT. skwisgaar's hands get fucked up here in two different scenarios: when actually playing, which makes sense as his biggest fear, but also when he's trying to contact himself about toki. he's not just scared about toki surpassing him. he's very much aware about how his own insecurities about the scenario could paralyze him from playing. he gets in his own head a lot (most notably during his fight with toki in "bookklok"), and so if he feels like he's not number one anymore, he's scared that he can't play at all--or if he can, it's not worth it because he's not the best. and then, his deformed hands also keep him from calling himself. he struggles with communication as it is, but the insecurity is wearing on him so much to make his terrible communication skills even worse. the hulking toki also has his hands replaced with explorers. NOT flying v's. while skwisgaar's hands and playing is at risk of being destroyed forever, according to his greatest fear, toki's will only be greatly improved, and having the explorers is reminiscent of the symbolic role of lead guitarist. toki doesn't need his flying v anymore--he has skwisgaar's guitar, he has his role in the band.

4) though so many of these cursed objects have mouths, this dream is completely dialogue-less. once again, we see that skwisgaar is struggling to actually speak to toki. and toki isn't interested in talking to him either. hell, toki doesn't even see what skwisgaar is struggling with, what he's so afraid of. husk toki doesn't have eyes. flower toki's eyes are replaced with flower buds. grub toki's eyes are black and empty. and hulking toki's eyes are replaced with mouths. toki does not want to look at skwisgaar, does not want to see in him what he also has so much of--insecurity about his guitar playing, just reflected back at him.

and the mouths. they just gnaw at nothing. they're trying to devour skwisgaar. hulking toki's eyes are mouths because he isn't interested in seeing him--he only wants to consume him, to rip him apart and take everything away from him.

TL;DR--skwisgaar's biggest fear is toki becoming better at him than guitar. he's regretting inviting him in, and all he can imagine is toki taking his role away from him, chewing him up, spitting him out, leaving him with nothing. but there's also a part of him that knows that this was partially his fault--that he always knew that toki had this potential. he blames himself, partially, but he's so insecure now and terrified of toki's potential that all he can do is imagine toki as delighting in this scenario.

toki was just a little larva when skwisgaar invited him into the band. he gave him just enough to help him grow, but he also did it in such a dismissive way. but the larva still grew, and it's a butterfly that's going to rip skwisgaar's hands clean off.

#dichromaticdyke.exe #Metalocalypse #Skwisgaar Skwigelf #Toki Wartooth #written in a fit of divine madness #i channeled some BDG energy for this one #grubki #<- for you my server friends

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cvlutos · 2 years ago

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HE KNOWS!!

✡︎ | May.02nd.2023 | 0.7K | Discord Req: @bby-sparkler

✡︎ | Jade Leech | Gn!Reader

✡︎ | Synopsis: Humans are cruelly fascinating.

Humans are fascinating creatures.

The way they walk, talk, eat, breathe. How you see the world through your eyes is unique. The way your heart beats, when you feel different emotions, and the ways you breathe, the way your lungs expand and release. It’s interesting. He finds you interesting, entertaining, amusing, much so that you bring out a side of him that he’s certain didn't exist when he was back in the coral sea.

To have the time to explore, to partake in interests, and to love. Before there wasn't time. Far too worried about surviving—killing others before they kill you. A life often fast-paced and dizzying, yet you. You bring a certain calm that lulls him, that makes him relax. That makes him sit a little easier, and that makes him observe more than act rationally.

He likes to keep such an emotion close. He likes to keep you close, enjoying the customs of closeness, the feel of your hand in his, the feel of your lips against his. He loves the ease as much as he loves the unpredictableness. He loves you.

Yet, there's a certain look in your eyes.

One that you only share with his brother. A certain look that no matter how long he watches—observes in silent curiosity, that he can't slightly understand. A look that you in no sense share for him. That it always seems to go away when his brother is not there. That vanishes quickly as the wind when his twin is carried off by whatever it is that captures his attention.

That's simply how Floyd is.

Yet something about his personality fills you with such utter joy, that there are moments Jade's conflicted. And whatever ache in his chest doesn't cease when you grab his hand, call his name, kiss his lips, lead him where it is you desire for the day. When you spend time in his company, when you proudly proclaim yourself to be his partner.

Yet the ache doesn't leave.

Simply because you don't look at him the same. And surely happiness is objective, the way people act with others changes, but it's as if the shine in your eyes utterly disappears when Floyd isn't in your vicinity. As if living isn't worth it without him. When he isn't talking to you, leaning against you, rambling on about his—everything. And you, shamelessly, give him your undivided attention.

He knows it isn't love...

It couldn't be love...

Yet Jade can't help but feel unneeded in your presence when his brother is there. Unable to fill whatever desire you need; he cannot do it no matter how much he tries. Yet you're his? That should be enough, it should. Yet you don't desire him…. You don't crave him.

Jade doesn't make you feel like how you make him feel. He brings you nothing.

“I truly wish to understand.”

Even in your cruelty, there is a part of him that cares for you. That should simply brush off this moment and be understanding, yet he won't. He’ll drag out this painful game, being the perfect boyfriend, catering to all your needs like no other. Drowning you in his unwanted love, until you say it. Until you say the truth with tainted lips, kissed again and again by his brother.

He watches from afar, watching you lean too close, yearning to be closer, yearning for his brother to hold you. He knows. He knows. He knows. It hurts. Yet what satisfaction can he get out of letting you go, what should Jade gain from letting you go and letting you be with him, when you so desperately desire it. He won’t. Not unless you say something. Not until the words spill from your lying lips that you fell out of love—when you never loved him to begin with—he wants to watch you struggle. Forcing out the words with guilt. He wants you to hurt. He does. He does. He does. Yet it hurts him to hurt you.

He knows.

He does.

It hurts.

#t.manor.writings #jade leech angst #jade leech x reader #jade leech #jade x reader #jade angst #twst angst #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland x reader angst #twst x reader

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ilovespec · 5 months ago

Text

SPEC NSWF ALPHABET + LITTLE FIC IN THE END

by order of another respected fan of this divine Waifu, named @turtle-boris , I'm sorry if I didn't meet your expectations, pookie :<

A - aftercare.

He would just fall asleep holding you against his 🔥boobs🔥 , but this way he can take a shower with you if you want <3

B - body part.

loves your ass and thighs. You can't change my mind about that.

C - cum.

He only cums in a condom. He is 97 years old ! You don't need kids.

D - dirty secret.

Bruh, he is absolutely honest with you, he has no secrets ;) (well, or there is, but if I call it , then I will be banned here and put in prison for life)

E - experience.

Babe....He's 97 years old. He has more experience than Retsu or Baki fans, LOL

F - Favorite position.

Doggy style. He likes to hear your hips slap against his .

G - Goofy.

100% during sex, he can sometimes chuckles or joke , this is Spec ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

H - hair.

...I think it 's already clear, but both the top and bottom are completely smooth , LOL :^

I - intimacy.

For him, sex is a way to relax, So don't expect much romance.

J - jerk off.

He doesn't need to jerk off, because he has you !:3

K - kink.

When you try to be dominant.

L - location.

Most often your bed, but sometimes you have sex in the shower, and other places that your brain can only think of.

M - motivation.

Spec turns on your moans, sobs, etc... In short, he gets turned on by the sounds that leave your mouth in excitement .

N - no.

He won't share you with anyone. You're only his . He's against quickly sex. AND HE'S AGAINST THE GOLDEN RAIN!!

O - oral.

He likes to give and receive. He doesn't care ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

P - pace.

He has a rough and fast pace. But , Sometimes if you ask well, it can slow down :)

Q - quickly.

No. He likes to enjoy you to the fullest, and not in one round.

R - risk.

Yes , yes , and YES again ! With a 200% probability, you often had sex in public places (like toilets, in the bushes of the park, etc..)

S - stamina.

VERY HIGH !!!! Like, babe, he arrived from Florida to Japan overnight. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH STAMINA HE HAS?!

T - toys.

Bruh, babe, don't you have enough of his cock and fingers? And so, if you want, then he can try ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U - unfair.

Is he teasing you? Sure. He can strongly overemulate you , and then not let you cum until you almost beg for it.

V - volume.

He is quite quiet, at most you hear from him his chuckles, his words when he says something to you and rare sighs .

X - x ray.

I'll buy you a wheelchair. 13'39 inches. He'll tear you up babe, be strong ✊😮‍💨

Y- yearning.

If he's not in jail, then you have sex almost every night .

Z - zzz.

He won't sleep for a long time, watching your sweet sleeping face, and then he'll pass out with you in his arms.

+ THE PROMISED NSWF FIC

You're somehow standing on your feet, because behind you, your "babygirl" named Spec is hammering into your poor ass like a jackhammer...stifled moans and sobs leave your mouth, because of his fast and rough pace, and in the meantime he bends over and leaves a couple more hickeys on your already bitten neck, and on your shoulders covered with bites and hickeys. Your walls are clamped around him, and for the umpteenth time this evening you come in such a way that everything turns white in your eyes, tears flow from your eyes once again, and you almost fall. But the powerful grip of your "babygirl" does not let you fall. Fortunately. And you can hear the familiar chuckle and voice above your ear.

Heh, baby, apparently you won't be able to walk tomorrow because of me... But, I'll help you, don't worry.

And he ends his words by leaving a kiss on your face wet with sweat and tears, looking into your already reddened eyes (your eye color) with a grin, continuing to hammer into you. Soon his thrusts somehow became even stronger , apparently bruises will appear on your poor thighs because of him. His face fell on your forearm, and after a couple more strong and deep thrusts, he cums (in a condom, of course, you both don't need children) biting your forearm, with a quiet sigh. And then, with a chuckle, he pulls away , still holding you . After all, he doesn't want you to fall to the floor here and now, takes off the condom , tying and throwing it away, and after admiring what he did to you a little, says.

Bhahah ! Dear, I see you can barely stand on your feet, I'll help you a little ;)

And then , your beloved BIG WAIFU helps you wash up , and then wipes you off and goes to sleep with you , hugging you to him >3

BRUH , sorry for this cringe , babes, this is the first time I've written something in this format 😅😮‍💨

#i do not know what to write #character #spec #spec baki #baki spec #baki the grappler #baki spec × reader #spec × reader #hanma baki #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki rahen #baki #baki dou #i love u spec #I love spec #spec × y/n #spec × s/o

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velvetvexations · 3 months ago

Note

ferris anon here, incoming long ask: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3rZkGnICFI&t=143s

[Warning: This comment is long, but hopefully, it's as informative as it is critical of the video. I do not intend to be antagonistic, but I am very critical.]

This video is frustrating in soooo many ways. I see all the best intent in this video and I generally agree with the overall outlook that trans women are frequently portrayed poorly in anime (including Re:Zero) and treated poorly by both the Japanese otaku crowd and the non-Japanese transphobic fetishist crowd, but you've hit some stumbles here I think are necessary to touch on. Let me explain by starting with a disclaimer for context:

I'm not Japanese, but I am a professional translator, I've lived in Japan for a major portion of my life, I specialize in Asian studies (and have a background in studying Japanese history and religion, both in Japan and in the US), I'm a trans woman, and I have the pleasure of being friends with individuals in the Japanese queer community. I'm also a fan of Japanese media, definitely anime, and I really enjoy Re:Zero (especially the novels). In fact, I find the series exceptionally well-written and Ferris' character exceptional as well.

I'll start with the center question first and branch from there.

1) Schrodinger's Trans.

It's definitely complicated. Ferris "identifies" themself as a "boy" often in public. The author clearly identifies Ferris as a "boy" in all canon material. But just as you quoted from the first EX novel, Ferris displays signs of gender dysphoria. They call themself a "bishoujo" in the mirror every day when they wake up, and in fact (surprised you failed to mention this), they even specify that they are relieved and grateful for their mother's genes specifically because they don't grow facial or body hair and their face and body curves are feminine. If that wasn't enough, they hid the "boy" secret from their other best friend (the prince) for years, right up to a reveal scene in the novel itself. That friend thought Ferris was a girl for years and Ferris explicitely admits this was less a prank and more a selfish indulgence. By all accounts, that's what most medical experts would call "gender dysphoria" and I think it's fine to leave it at that. Is Ferris trans, though? Not all trans people have gender dysphoria, but are all gender dysphoric people trans? ...I suppose you can argue that they are, but I've read plenty a personal experience from gender dysphoric cis people who disagree, so... I can't say with certainty and I don't think anyone should assert so, as this video does. My own personal conclusion and assumptions are my own, but I see Ferris' character more as a gender bend concept taken to its logical conclusion by an author who intuitively understands gender dysphoria, but knows nothing about trans people. I don't think anyone should be jumping to apply real world medical diagnoses (like dysphoria) on fictional characters written by blissfully ignorant authors who live in a completely different culture. I see people do this with, for instance, characters they think are autistic, and that's fine and dandy to interpret your own rep when actual rep is lacking in media (god knows it's lacking), but... we gotta step back a bit and be more self aware that this is not an interpretation to hold over others' heads.

2) Ferris' name.

You got this one explicitely wrong. "Ferris" and "Felix" are not clever differences in romanizations from the Japanese novels. They're entirely different names in the Japanese novels. "Ferris" is フェリス ("ferisu") and "Felix" is フェリックス ("ferikkusu"). Spelling and pronunciation are completely different. And while "Felix" is definitely a "dead name", the reason Ferris changed their name is because not only is the name too masculine, but it was also the name given to them by their absolute garbage existence of a father, who Ferris wants nothing to do with anymore. I won't spoil what happens in the EX novel, but Ferris' vow regarding their name is explicitely intended to reject their father's namesake and adapt their beloved late mother's sensibilities.

3) Japan and "duty". "Propaganda" is a strong word and considering I've been a part of Japan (attending school and working) for so much of my life and I've retroactively studied the culture and history in a formal academic setting for nearly as long, I think a bit of a non-Western-enlightenment-centric lesson is in order here. Japan is a country that generally prides itself on 和 ("wa", harmony, peace). And as the saying goes, "With 理 ("ri", reason, duty) comes 令 ("rei", order), and with 令 comes 和." It's based on old Chinese/Confucius philosophy and Japan's history is ripe with strife and conflict permeated by periods of 和 seen as golden ages in the history books tailored to school kids and the general public. Unsurprisingly, much like the Western idealism in individuality that has been used to justify systemic racism, abuse of power, class wars, etc., Japan's cultural/societal use of 理 has been used to justify wars, power, and definitely the oppression of minorities, including LGBTQ+ people. But in the West, our individualism is also seen by minorities as essential to our identities, history, and cause. It is inseperable from our cultural identities, whether we like it or not. Japan's 理 is the same. I don't know a single queer person in Japan (friend group, extended friend group, academic essays, literature, or otherwise) who doesn't value 理 to the same diverse, yet core extent that Westerners value individualism. I think anyone who has been split between Japan and the US all their life as I have can probably sympathize with the internal conflict between our two cultural identities. You're so damningly aware of how the orderly needs of others impedes on your personal needs and vice versa and these two things are hard to reconcile with each other because they're dynamically opposed, yet both are extremely valuable to you.

Ultimately, on that last point, I'm just hitting back at the "it's propaganda" aspect of "duty" as cited by the author of the video. Hand-waving Re:Zero's author as having fallen victim to or [potentially] propagating "duty" propaganda as an excuse is extremely over-simplifying the issue with Ferris as a written subject and Japanese culture as a whole.

I do think your heart was in the right place and I'm fine with treating the video as a personal approach to a complicated topic, but as a trans woman who is on the fence regarding Ferris' canon "transness" (hence why I've been using they/them pronouns), I would rather approach this from the angle that the author inadvertently created a character who trans people can sympathize with, but didn't intend the character to be trans. Which means this isn't really a debate about whether Ferris is trans, but rather a debate about how much value we place on an author's words, contextually and paratextually, and how that affects our experience of and engagement with the work. Essentializing bigots for "not accepting" Ferris as trans and "misgendering" the character only serves to act as a self-righteous interpretation of a work we have no agency over. Also, it's fiction. If misgendering angers you, use that energy on people deliberately misgendering and fetishizing real people who deserve and need that basic consideration. I love Ferris with all my heart regardless of their canon gender, but they are an exemplatory case study in a vast sea of problematic queer rep in media.

--------

P.S. - I do find it weird that Ferris' gender comes up as a topic of debate within Re:Zero's queer-friendly spaces, but no one talks about Crusch? Crusch was just as explicitely demonstrated in the same EX novel to have rejected their womanhood. We don't get the same first-person camera lens or inner monologue as Ferris, but we don't need it because Crusch is more brash and open about it. The only reason they dawn a dress on special occasions like they did in the main story and anime is due to [spoilers] in that EX novel (for better or worse). Either way, Crusch is said to be the most manly Duke/Duchess in their family's history and Crusch says that is intentional. It's very clear that Crusch and Ferris are intended to be two opposite sides of the same coin. I may have personally critiques about how the author treats their gender, but their dynamic together is absolutely fantastic and I will die on that ship--er, hill.

thank you, I've never seen the show but this is a very, very good comment

#re:zero #transmisogyny #discourse

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 year ago

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Okay I've read through the entirety of the Yves tag and I've come the conclusion, and I'm speaking for myself here: we ain't compatible ✨

And I know the response to that would be "well he did all this research on you, he can just change himself to be compatible" and that's exactly why this cannot work. I don't want what he thinks I want, I want the truth. I want the real, unfiltered him, but he would never give that to me. He would fold and play a character and that doesn't sit right with me, especially if I ever find out about his database. He's just a liquid taking the shape of my container. So squishy. I need a fellow solid.

All this talk of him providing for you, listening to you, comforting you. Relationships are a two way street, when would he ever let us provide the same things to him? I wanna rub his back when he feels it ache, I wanna hold his hair up while he voms in the toilet, I wanna cook him soup as he lays in bed sick, I wanna hold him in the night when he gets nightmares, but he never lets us in on anything about him!

Also his way of finding information about us doesn't hit the spot. Why are you asking my relatives questions and snooping through my Internet history? I'm right here! Ask me! This circles back to what I said before, I want to know about him the same way he wants to know about me!

And even the real parts of him that he does share, I'm not compatible with! I'm not okay with not knowing anything about him like his age or last name. Even if he was an eldrich being, I wanna know! As his s/o I should be the one person in the world who gets to know!

And he doesn't want children, so I would never have a child with him, because I do not want to bring a life into this world of they will not receive the full love of both parents. But I want children. And he would give me children if I want, but I don't want them if he's not going to be a loving parent, and if he's not going to be a loving parent, then I will raise them by myself, and if I'm raising them by myself, I might as well not be with him. So the simplest answer is to not have children in the first place. But I want children.

Another thing is the house. He dislikes it when we change anything so he has an extra room for us to do whatever we want in. This does not set well with me! This is not our home, this is HIS home and we just get a little corner to ourself. What's the difference between living with him and living with your parents? Now I could express this to him, and he might allow us to add things to the rest of the house to make it look like there is more than one person living here, but we know that he would hate it not being in the pristine state it was in. I don't want to make him uncomfortable in his own house when he pays all the bills and owns everything. So I won't ask that of him. But I will be miserable.

And god dammit if I bite you, I want you to bite back! I want to rough house every once in a while! I want to argue! I want everything you have! Not just what you think I like! And if you can't get me that, then we're gonna have to call it quits! Take that into consideration for your research!

"but he's a yandere" then I hope he's happy with me being miserable! (Once again, I am strictly speaking about myself. If you can overlook these things, power to you!)

well like he wont,, necessarily change himself entirely, like what u basically described is stuff that he is hard set on not changing, so the path of least resistance is changing you. n that is horrifying ngl and hot 2 me, so id say he has a squishy exterior like idk 3 inches deep, but then its pure solid steel underneathx

oh yea he lieks playing caregiver, he doestn necessarily hate being taken care of its just he thinkgs is unnecessary especially hes probably not human, and he is built that way bro like hes technically v v low maintenance!!! and eugh authenticity gross me out </3 like why be real when u can eat this ass like groceries ykno what i mean

mans will ask u stuff to like wanna know u thats for sure, the onlyy things is that he already knows what ur gonna say or determine what u said is half truth, lie or like an embellishment- so there's a huge illusion of trust there, he already seen the spoilers to ur life bro he just wanna watch the movie again from like a different website

no bro u got the child thing all wrong 😭 he is not letting you take care of ur child, like he will raise them even though he hates them , just in his special grotesque Yves-ness way, and yea i get it, to a lotttt of people the topic of wanting children is a deal breaker 4 them. I the author personally do not want kids hence my projection on him <3

oh yeah mans a control freak for his house , don't know if u read "yves in a nutshell" , but basically he's like parallel to a parent on the stricter side that mostly caters 2 ppl who have this flavour of daddy issues who wants a more controlling zaddyy in their life but he would be discrete about it

trust me man he will not sit there and be uncomfortable, he will straight up tell u what he thinks about ur decor but in a loving way, like negotiate with u to keep it in ur room, but if u insist on doing ur way he will resort to scolding, then finally: literal brainwashing

ough no mans does not like arguing he will fr go MKUltra on ur ass if ur the type to like roughhousing, Yves is literally a librarian that want no rowdyness, nuh uh he wants quiet

like fr the point of Yves is that he is the manifestation of obsessive gentle parenting featuring old school CIA torture techniques with a cameo of suffocating parental trauma, its mostly delicious to us parental issues people and i think ur seeing Yvess too much as a partner like an equal when he is not meant to be an equal AT ALL😭 whereas he is ironically meant to be objectified to be confined to this one slave that is a caretaker, lover and a protector who knows how to say no sometimes

like fr thanks tho for reading my stuff, but yeaahhhh that is 4 sho ur not gonna be compatible with Yves or any of my OCs, like ur too selfless, kind, independent and loving for my Yanderes </3.

also are u by chance the one ghostliking my stuff

#oc yves #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x reader

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doublerainbow-if · 1 year ago

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How would the RO’s react to seeing somebody ask MC out on a date during deep crushing stage?

M doesn't know what to do. They want to pull you close to them and take you away to somewhere the two fo you will be alone. But their self hatred stops them. What right do they have to dictating your love life? None with how much they hurt you. But despite that thought, their hand holds yours firmly. A dark look now settle on their face as they stare down the would be suitor. They won't let you go. Never again.

L feels petty when they drape themselves dramatically over your shoulders. Pulling your attention away the question so you will focus on then. They glare down the person in front of them but making sure you won't see their intimidation tactic. Despite their whole ideology of free will and making your own destiny, they won't have somebody take you away from them. Maybe it makes them a bad friend but as the saying goes, "I saw them first."

B would quite literally confess on the spot. They found someone who completes them just like those stories their parents. You might not be their "true" soulmate but they wouldn't want another. They spill every once of love they have in their heart, hoping that maybe you will pick them. They didn't want this to be the way they finally confess but they will to so you can be theirs. You are their modern fairytale and happily ever after.

J is a tad bemused. They don't let their emotions fueled then like their cousin and simply wait for your answer towards the question. But their expression does give the interloper some pause as it feels like J is laughing at them. A dark amused look for even daring to pose the question. J might be calm on the outside but they will not let you go too easily. If this person wants you, they have to go through them first.

V loses their compusure, their self ensured attitude breaking at the idea of you actually accepting the proposal. You are surprised to see how frantic V looks when they run up to the two of you. A pained look in their eyes as their mouth tries to speak. V can't get the words straight as they hope you can how desperate they are to stop this from happening. Tears starts streaming down their face as all of the words died in their throat.

C is just staring at the little admirer, perching their head on top of your head or shoulder (depending on how tall you are). Their arms hold you possessively around your waist, making sure to let this person know that you are not available. They know they are acting immature but they don't care. They will take any form of punishment you give them for their actions. As despite their laid back nature, they will fight for their love.

Avery won't let this stand. A wave of something dark comes over them as they kiss firmly on the lips in front of the person, making sure they and everybody else knows you belong to them. They never felt something like this before, their kind nature bewildered at the rash action they've just taken. Avery will instantly beat themselves for how selfish they are, putting their needs over yours. They shouldn't have done that, they shouldn't have.

Kahula is, not surprisedly, not happy about this. They found their muse, somebody who changed them in ways that you probably don't even know. They placed a kiss on your cheek, staring down the one who asked you out as they hold you close to them. They hate themselves for behaving so childishly by marking you like this. You would probably hate them as well for doing this without your permission. But they wont let you disappear from their life again.

#double rainbow- if #ros #thanks for the ask!#some of them don't react great #red flags #massive jealousy #they know this isnt right but dont care

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ho3sferatu · 2 years ago

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hi! first of all i really love your simblr! second, i saw in your previous answer that vampires and werewolves are annoying when they're unmodded, so i was wondering what mods do you use/ would you recommend, for someone who would like to play vampires and werewolves in the sims 2? thanks in advance and have an amazing day :)

Thank you, anon! 😭💖 I cracked open my folder full of supernatural gamefixes. Some of these are an absolute must for me, others are just for flavor. I don't include things like prettier skin/eyes overlays and such because everyone has different tastes and styles.

⚰️FOR VAMPIRES🦇

Vamp Daytime Indoors Decay Hack - A mod that stops decaying needs of vampires as long as they're indoors, giving them a chance to normally function during the day. However, I eventually switched to...

...Sunlight immunity for vamps - No more sunlight weakness! Why was this so important for me? Vampires can't hold basically any job because they cannot go out during the day. Large families of vampires are extremely hard to control, as sims are naturally suicidal and often get ideas such as, idk, cuddling together looking at clouds during daylight, completely unbothered by their burning flesh. So I use this mod to keep them safe (and myself sane). Despite their immunity, vampires still won't appear as walkbys and they cannot be called on the phone during the day. They still throw hissy fits at the sun. But they don't die. 😌

I know I said no cosmetic mods but... A vampire skin overlay that doesn't suck is an absolute must. It's absurd that non-transparent Maxis overlay turns black-skinned vampires pale white!😵 I personally use Semi-Transparent Vampire Default by Episims (which matches the set of skin defaults I use) but many other semi-transparent overlays exist out there.

Biting neck satisfies hunger need - I use version V.2, which separates "Bite Neck" interaction into "Embrace" (create new vampire) and "Bite Neck" (drink blood)

Vampires can turn sims into Ghouls - ever wanted to have your own Renfield? This mod is for you!

Vampire Walkbys

No vampire hair

Grand Vampires Outside Downtown

Vampires Can “Voodoo”

Vampires Can Influence For Free

🌕FOR WEREWOLVES🐺

No more turning into a werewolf every night - I use version "LBFControllycantropy(3dayaweek-nopersonnalitychange))". This one was quite important for me. Vanilla lycanthropy is quite disruptive to the life of the sim with all its hunger need swings and personality changes. This mod allows them to have some better, less hairy nights 😉

No personality change for werewolves - Alternative mod if you still want the transformation to occur at normal intervals.

Werewolves Can Always Grr

No More Stupid Werewolf Hair!

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pigtailedgirl · 10 months ago

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#to make it make sense that he leaves after that to never return#i have to headcanon that seeing ray take yet another bullet meant for him was too much for fraser#he had to walk away to make sure it never happened again#of course after some time has passed he realizes he can't live without ray and reaches out to him and it all works out#because i'm a sucker for a happy ending

@gayvecchio stole the tags to expand because, yes this!

100% makes sense with everything Fraser is and has arc-ed up to for like the drama moment of him.

Fraser, who has spent his whole life lost to connection because of Bob and duty, who got Ray's support and it opened him up and like Ray is the only other person in his life I think who hit that I admit I needed in my life level for Fraser besides his Dad. Then their whole relationship tension is a fight and undercurrent of do you or can you admit to it though? And the dangers of going bad or duty, swing that emotional spectrum, overriding your love or friendship and break up and shooting angst part 1. Which they get through but don't talk about. Then suddenly Ray's gone, and Fraser just has to deal for their mutual survival. Undercover indeed or what? And so he hits the point of inverse, of hi Ray K who is like me, we really need to communicate for partners and stuff huh, and THEN surprise Ray's back and the specter of the why was Bob Fraser like that same time, with an answer and suddenly the narrative for like the 1000th time, makes the clear despite Fraser's very odd fire-side speech in COTW post disaster and that one friendship set up in Manhunt, that once again Ray V is paralleled to Caroline Fraser. Caroline Fraser, who was Bob's love and rock. Who teased the hell out of him by committing traffic violations and followed him all over creation while he was Mountie-ing to live with, grumbling about accommodations the whole way, and must have taken him out of his shell a bit cause they were married and were a family. Yeah. Caroline Fraser, who got shot dead cause of a case of Bob's and who's loss broke Bob Fraser expressing love there-after.

Fraser has always known his Dad's and his relationship hardship has been shadowed by his mom's loss. We see this in their profound conversation in Victoria's Secret in the canteen. He's unforgiving. Of if Bob Fraser really loved Caroline, if he was never there, if he never saw her. I get chills at that every damn time, Paul Gross and Gordon Pinsent you were so awesome. He lays into his Dad, actually holding him to account as a person, not a paragon, for failure. Rightfully so in my opinion. Here we see, his rebel against, at the same time we know he's always wanted to be like his Dad. Cause it's Dad should have loved her aka. me better. He won't relate. Until, suddenly COTW and Ray, and Fraser 180s to be I understand you now Dad.

Again, I CANT with this.

Every point in the series of he's like his dad, and reckons with the wall of it, applies especially to even in the relationships and emotions. But he wants to change and be no, dad I loved you, dad you should have been there for me, dad you were a great Mountie, but there was more. Their whole ghost thing is contending with what example of you I know and embrace and overcome.

Every point of Fraser's romantic relationships potential, the dark ex, or all the past ladies or himbo friends (Hi Mark!) being a blaring sign of Fraser wants connection and someone to just love him, cherishes or hoards the idea of, and is also unable, unwilling and so damn terrified of failure or loss of it he hides himself or he runs if it's too much.

Every point of the seasons and Chicago being a metaphorical seal clubbing of showing people need trust and help, and you are good at it in abstract and ideals, but they also need their loved ones and to embrace the damn honest truth of themselves, and you need that and want it and now you learn to know and say it. That the sad and bad in relationships and plot happen because of those who don't. Don't loose out. Learn from the new wild world re-framed instead of staying in the expansive and cold and alone North.

And so he came of the trail of the killers of his father, and yes, actually the reason he stayed does need exploring at this juncture. He "bonded" with Ray Vecchio.

And that bond, someone reaching out to him and wanting him, is how he said ok I want to stay and came back. I just had the image of, what would have become of Fraser emotionally, if he choose closer to Russia sir than Chicago and the people who want you? AAAAHHH.

Platonic or not, that's what brought solid support and connection to Fraser's life. All the people. Vecchio family. 27th. Neighborhood. Consulate.

I kinda grew to love the idea of Fraser's adventure with Ray K over the years. How wilderness and North Canada is freeing in it's solitude time, like a sabbatical or refresh away from your stresses. So I get it. But I have never got the fan idea they stay there. That they belong there. Or importantly that Fraser belongs there or in Canada now.

I've always been after, they, very much he, need to go home. The open ends of previous seasons was the connections of Due South on the daily life constants on. I've always loved the fanfic or open ends head canons of Ray, Ray, and Fraser working together, or the homecoming and reuniting possibilities ones for various pairs. But not living in the North. Because it's lonely up here I tell ya for personal experience.

Cause for Fraser, home shouldn't be isolation and Artic anymore. His home is his people. His people are in Chicago. His people started with finding Ray V and I'll be damned if that doesn't book-end to have Fraser pick that over what his father did and lost when he didn't pick his wife, or love, and ran from his son seeing and getting it from him. Seeing himself and his dad through to happy ending, should be Fraser breaking the cycle. Just like that break, coming back, rewards Ray V's boatload of issues being the unwanted and do good, get appreciated too.

And Ray K...I want him to find himself. You go baby! There's a great big world to do it with all the people you've connected with through Fraser. With what you learned about yourself working with and for seeing the importance of yourself as yourself now not as Stella's Ray or Fraser's buddy or "Ray Vecchio" or stuck out in the ice. Come on home too.

So, Wonder Twins or throuple unite. I have just rambled myself into I don't know what.

#due south #f/v #fraser/vecchio #benton fraser #bob fraser #due south meta #is this the most long-winded ramble to say i agree ever #my love of this show #my love of bob and benton #dad and son issues #my cotw issues lol #also i think this is the first time i ever went huh i could f/k/v #mostly platonicly #which hey wanna know that i ship in a gen way anyway mostly lol #ramble #im sorry everyone

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