#“with your face all made up living on the screen”

[envy-of-the-apple]

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 

And you were just extra baggage. 

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 

~

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 

~

Satoru appears first. 

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 

He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 

"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 

"For what?" 

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 

"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 

And so did Suguru. 

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 

"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 

"Good." You respond. "You?" 

"Good." 

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 

But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 

Suguru frowns, troubled. 

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 

"I love you." 

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 

He's miserable. 

You did this. This was all you. 

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 

 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 

"But what?" You press. 

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 

~

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 

"You'll see!" You chirp back. 

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 

Shoko freezes mid-sip. 

"What?" She asks. 

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 

"Oh." You breathe. 

"Oh." Utahime whispers. 

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 

"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 

"I-I-" You give up. 

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 

"Do you want us?" 

You take a deep breath. 

You nod. 

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 

You break away, panting. 

"You good?" She asks. 

You nod. 

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 

"What?" 

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 

Shoko slaps your thigh. 

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 

"Awake?" She asks. 

"Yeah." You softly say back. 

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 

"I'm gonna get food." 

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 

"What do you want?" She prompts. 

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 

The interaction makes your heart warm. 

Still, it can't last. 

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 

"And where are you going?" She prods. 

You fumble. "Back to my room?" 

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 

You laugh. 

"That's not a joke." She warns. 

"I know." And you kiss her again. 

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 

Everything was just perfect. 

And then, it just wasn't. 

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 

The living room is horrific. 

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 

Suguru doesn't even blink. 

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 

But you know you aren't expecting...that. 

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 

You step back. They step forward. 

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 

He smiles again. 

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 

The worst part is that everything was your fault. 

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak. 

"I'm sorry." 

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 

Satoru halts. You caught him. 

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 

"You missed us?" He wonders. 

The lie feels like sand. 

"More than anything." 

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 

"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 

And then, he grins. 

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 

~

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

[prettyfastcars]

like animals | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: A few months ago, you made the mistake of hooking up with a handsome, mysterious stranger. It was his pretty eyes and boyish face that pulled you in, and it was the wine that gave you that manic confidence it took to hold his hand and let him lead you to his car. One night with him, no strings attached, no more expectations. Just one night, that was the deal. But then he went and got addicted and obsessed. For months now you were constantly having to move to get away from him. After all, he wasn’t just any guy. He was dangerous, and feared, and bad news. So you ran, and he chased. And deep inside, you knew it wouldn’t be long before this cat and mouse game turned into an actual game of hunter and prey. 

Themes: stalking, obsessed!lando, smut, mild degrading kink, fluff?

Your hands shook as you reached for the carefully folded piece of paper on your bed. 

You didn’t put it there. And the mere thought of who might have left it there for you to find was making your whole body shiver. 

No. No. No. 

He couldn’t have found you so easily. You had been so careful this time. After months of living on your friends’ couches, moving back home, moving back to your apartment in the city, living in hotel rooms, you had finally made the choice to come spend some time up on the mountains, in the small cabin your parents owned. 

All that just to get away from him. 

And you had been careful this time. You had made sure to pay for everything in cash, you didn’t tell too many people where you were going to be. And this place was meant to be safe. There was a small town not too far from the cabin. And a cop car often made rounds all over the place. This was supposed to be a safe place. 

But looking at the note, your blood froze. 

‘You’ve got to stop running, babygirl. You know I’ll always find you.’ 

Fuck. 

He was here. 

You looked around, forcing yourself to focus and see if you could hear any noise inside your home. You looked out the window and saw that the sun was setting, it would get dark and cold outside, there were no neighbours around, you were alone up here. 

And he was here. You had nowhere to go. You could always barricade yourself inside the cabin but chances were he was already inside, hence the note. 

This was his favourite game. He left notes all around you for you to find, and each time you found them you ran away. And he chased. 

Damn you for falling for the charms of a stranger that one night. Things in your life would be normal if you hadn’t slept with him that night. But fuck, he was so sweet to you. So charming. So good. His touch was… electric. He was so gentle with you. 

But only when he dropped you home the next morning did you realise who he was. Your friends were waiting for you that morning, worried sick and furious that you would even leave them without saying anything and go home with a guy that dangerous. 

“Dangerous? What do you mean?” You had looked at your girls, suddenly feeling stupid. 

One of them shoved their phone into your hands and you looked at the article on the screen. Headlines and words screaming at you. Mob boss. Arrested. Criminal. Dangerous. Followed by pictures of Lando being either arrested, or released. Cops all around him, like he was more of a celebrity in his expensive suit, curly hair and that damn smirk on his pretty face. In some pictures he even had a bleeding lip, like he got punched, but even then he faced the cameras with a smirk. He even winked in some pictures. 

Shit. 

And ever since, you’d ghosted him. All his messages and calls were ignored, and he wasn’t having it. So he began showing up at places. Your front yard, your gym, your favourite food spots, he was everywhere. He always wanted to talk to you, and you always ran at the first sight of him. 

Then it got bad. He stopped showing up, but his notes did. Which meant that he was finding a way to enter your apartment, your friends’ apartments, your parents’ house, and suddenly nowhere was safe and you refused to put anyone in danger.

Which is why you ended up here, in the middle of nowhere. 

And he followed. 

You crushed the note into a ball and threw it on the ground. That’s when you heard the footsteps. And it sounded like they came from the roof. You panicked and ran out of the room, down the stairs and froze once you reached the front door.

Because there he stood. Smiling at you like this was the most normal scenario ever. His face… It brought back memories of that night. How neither of you could keep your hands to yourselves on the way to his place. How that mouth felt against your skin. How warm and invasive his touch was, making you squirm, and purr under him. 

“There you are, baby. I’ve missed you.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’ve got to stop this little game now, okay? Stop being difficult and let me talk to you.” 

And then there was that fucking voice. Gentle, but firm. 

You backed away as he took a step forward. “I’ll call the cops.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. Trying your best to sound confident and failing. 

He scoffed, “Oh don’t bother. I took care of everything. You’re not leaving here without talking to me. I’ve been trying to reach you for months now. This is getting tiring, baby.” 

“What do you want?” 

He shrugged, “Isn’t it obvious? You.” 

You swallowed, worried about whether he’ll let you walk out of here alive. “Look, I didn’t know who you were that night. And I don’t know what you want, but I…” You took a deep breath. “Just leave me alone, please. I won’t tell the cops, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” 

He frowned, looking genuinely confused for a second. “You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He sighed, bringing his fingers up to his hair, running them through it in frustration, “Can we just talk? Will you just listen to me?” He took another step forward, and you took several back this time. 

“Please,” You begged again, looking around for a quick second, trying to see if there was anything you could use to defend yourself. Then you saw it. One of your father’s hunting knives, mounted on the wall. If you could just… 

Lando sighed again, like he was running out of patience as he looked right at you. His eyes staring into yours. The sun was nearly down all the way now, the cabin was getting darker and darker. The light drizzle outside was consistent. And the knife was not too close, not too far. If you ran towards it… 

“Come on now, baby. You’re a smart girl. Don’t do this.”  

Those words made you frown. Then you realised that he was looking at the knives on the wall as well. Shit. He could tell what you were thinking about. 

Then you did the dumbest, most predictable thing ever. You ran towards the knives, as did he. And he managed to grab you before you could reach for the knives. Pinning you to the wall, and pressing his entire body into yours, he chuckled as he secured your wrists above your head. 

“This is familiar, isn’t it?” He teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, surely referencing that night you two spent together. 

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about it too. How good he felt, with his body weight pressing down onto you in his bed. How good he felt, moving in between your legs… fuck. No. You needed to get out of here. 

“Let go.” You murmured, looking into his eyes as you tried to free your hands from his grip but it was impossible. 

Again, he had that look on his face like his patience was running low. “Fine,” He growled, “You want to be difficult? You like our little game too much it seems, huh? Alright then, baby,” He abruptly let go of you and took a step back. He looked at you menacingly. “Go on, run. Isn’t that what you want? Run, then.” He leaned in just a little, staring deep into your eyes and added, “But the moment I catch you, you’re mine. Fair?” 

Think. Think. 

The back door was unlocked. And there was a shortcut to get to the town, but it was through the woods. Maybe if you could… who were you kidding? There was no outrunning him. This had to be a trap. But… if you somehow made it out and into the town to get help, what then? 

Timidly, you asked, “What if you don’t?” 

Lando gave you a smirk that made you a multitude of things. “If I don’t, you’re free to go.” He said, his voice as cold as ice and that borderline unhinged look in his eyes. “I’ll leave, and never bother you again.” 

Damn it. It was getting darker out, the woods would be dark, cold, and it would be hard to see but it was such a short way to get to the town. If you’d run for about eight to ten minutes, you could maybe get rid of him forever. 

You looked up at him. He was still smirking, looking relaxed and not at all bothered. Damn him! 

“I’ll give you a headstart.” He said, and this all became a horror movie really quickly. Even more so when he began counting down. “Ten, nine–,” 

You didn’t stand there to listen to the rest, you took off running. Running past him and further into the cabin, all the way to the back door. And you shivered when you heard him laughing behind you, his laughter echoing in the wooden cabin. Followed by his loud footsteps as he chased you. 

You pushed open the back door and took off. It was still drizzling. And the air was cold, but your heart pumped faster than ever, your legs flying to get you out of there. And as sick as it sounds, there was a part of you that knew that he enjoyed this. This was what he wanted. Dirty, animalistic, primal. You would run and hide, he would chase and when he’d catch you – you’d be his little toy. 

The rain was light, but you could feel the fabric of your clothes sticking to your body already. You were just in leggings and a sweater. You squealed as you finally made it into the woods. It was dark there. The sun had set and it would get pitch black the further in you go. 

The forest ground was covered in moss and mud. Your heart pounded as you stopped running for a moment and just listened. 

And there it was. The steady pounding of footsteps closing in. Then you heard him call out, “You’re in so much trouble when I catch you, baby. I tried to make this easy for us but you don’t want that, do you? Huh? You like torturing me, don’t you?” He yelled, and judging by the sound of his voice, he was still far away. “You fucking love making me work for it!” 

The whole thing made your heart race as you tried to put some more distance between you and him. The silence of the woods, the echo of his voice, the rain falling down like in slow motion, the way your clothes stuck to your body like a second skin, the adrenaline in your veins as you ran further away from him. 

And the anticipation of what would happen if he catches you. 

Right then, the memories of that night you spent with him came flooding in. His touch, his mouth, his hands, how he fucked you till you fell asleep in his bed. How he held you till the morning. All the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the ones that made your heart flutter. The one that made you come all over his fingers, his mouth, his cock… How he had you moaning and screaming the whole night… fuck. 

You gasped for air and you stopped for a moment. You quickly assessed your body. Your leggings were torn in places, due to being stuck to thorns and other plants. But other than that, you were okay. Come on, just a few more– 

You heard his voice again. And he sounded closer than earlier. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” He cooed. “I promise, baby. Just give me a chance. I’ll do anything for you, you know that? I just wanna fucking talk!” He yelled again. 

You took off running again, stopping every now and then to listen and try to gauge where he was. You were completely drenched at this point, running for your life like a madwoman. Trying to get away from your personal psycho villain. 

You tried to step on the patches of moss so he wouldn’t hear you. But you heard his footsteps, running, chasing and weirdly closer to you than earlier. 

“I hear you, baby.” He called out, chuckling like an actual villain. 

You gasped and ran faster… only to trip on a fallen branch and fall. You cursed before getting up, now with leaves and dirt sticking to you. You heard him. He was closer. Closer. You ran faster. Hoping to be able to somehow lose him and make your way out of the woods and– 

Right when you were about to make a sharp turn, Lando grabbed you by the elbow and tackled you to the ground. You both fell on a soft, wet patch of moss. “Caught you.” He growled, straddling your squirming body and pinning your hands above your head. “You did so well, baby. You almost got away.” He leaned down and whispered against your mouth, “Almost. You got so close too.” He trailed his mouth over to your cheek, “But now you’re fucking mine.” 

You were still breathless. Struggling. Hating how much you were thinking about how good it felt to be under him like this the first time. 

He chuckled, looking down at you. “Don’t lie. You liked it when I touched you, didn’t you?” 

You glared at him, the little bit of light allowing you to see how close his devilishly handsome face was to yours. “Fuck you.” 

He smirked. “Oh you liked it.” He leaned in, “When I touched you, when I tasted you…” He trailed off, scoffing, “But you didn’t let me get my fill, baby. And I want you. So fucking bad.” He pressed his body against yours even more. “Can you feel how badly I need you?” 

You gasped, feeling a prominent bulge pressing against your belly. And your mind went straight to filth. 

He laughed at the look on your face. “You remember now? Hmm? Are you wet for me?” He chuckled, “Should I check?” 

Angry and embarrassed, you spoke through gritted teeth, “Is this how you get women? By forcing them to–,” 

He shut you up by squeezing your cheeks with his cold hand, “Force you?” He questioned, and almost sounded offended, “Oh no baby, you’ll beg for it. I’ll make you beg, just like last time.” 

Not wasting a single moment, he grabbed your sweater at the neckline and tore it until your breasts were exposed. Making quick work of your bra, he almost growled again as he leaned down to take your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting and alternating between the two of them.

You gasped and moaned and squirmed under him. Damn his mouth… 

The light rain didn’t stop. Drops of water constantly dripped on the two of you. You could hear it, the sound of the light rain falling on leaves. The grunts and groans coming from Lando’s mouth, the sound of your coerced moans, the chill in the air. It was all too much. 

Lando’s mouth moved from your breasts and kissed down your drenched torso until he reached your leggings, which he tore as well, diving in and kissing your inner thighs before sliding your underwear to the side and– 

You moaned shamelessly when you felt his warm, wet tongue lick up and down your folds. “Fuck… please,” You gasped. 

He chuckled, his tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly until you screamed. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. 

He licked and sucked relentlessly, “Told you you’d beg for it. You taste so good…” He whispered as he ate you out until you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. His warm mouth pressed against your most intimate part, his tongue stroking you. “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed this.” 

He growled when your hips instinctively bucked against his mouth. You whined as the sounds he made reverberated through your entire body, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

“You think I didn’t try to move on? Hmm? You think I didn’t have girls throw themselves at me,” He spoke in between licks and kisses, “I tried, baby.” He reasoned. “I did. But the other girls, they’re not like you. I don’t want them. I just want you, I want my baby. And I’ve got you now.” He whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. 

“Please, please, please…” You chanted as you felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. 

You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you, your back arching off the cold ground. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore, and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. 

He tore the rest of your leggings and underwear off, leaving the ragged bits still around your ankles as his hand found itself around your throat. He parted your legs and settled in between them. You whimpered when you felt him undo his trousers and pull out his cock, leaving it there, just pressing against your folds. 

“Look at me.” He murmured. 

You opened your eyes and there he was, hovering above you. His face was so close you could see your wetness glistening all over his lips. You couldn’t hold back the desperate moan that left your mouth. 

“Look at what you’ve done to me.” He said, acting like this was all your fault. “You’ve turned me into a fucking animal, baby.” He moved his hips just the slightest, letting his cock brush against your clit in a way that made you want to cry out loud. 

“I didn’t do anything,” You argued, glaring at him. 

“Yes you did!” He persisted. “You’ve been messing with my fucking head,” He growled. “Stop fucking running away from me!” He bellowed. And for a second, even the insects around stopped chirping as his voice echoed. “Please stop,” He spoke again, softer this time. “I’ll do anything,” He said, “I’ll get you whatever you want, I’ll buy you anything, I’ll stop following you around just…” He exhaled, his warm breath tickling your cheek, “Just stop running from me.” 

You whimpered when you felt him push his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out just like he did that night. “Fuck…” You cried, letting him bury himself deep inside you. 

It felt so dirty, being fucked on the forest floor by a man like him. But you couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t feel fucking good inside you. 

“Poor baby.” He scoffed. “We could’ve sat down and had a nice conversation, then I would have taken you to bed. And we could’ve fucked nice and slow till the morning.” He pulled out and pushed back into you, making you moan even louder. “But no, this is what you wanted. Right? You liked being chased, and you wanted to be fucked like this? Hmm?” He questioned, knowing you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you – he knew your brain was a foggy mess. 

And he was right because all you could so was whine and moan as he began fucking into you hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it. He was wild like the surroundings, and passionate, animalistic, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. 

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear, “You remember me now, baby? Huh? You remember this?” He chuckled. “Does it feel as good as the first time?” 

Yes. 

But you wouldn’t tell him that. His ego was already bigger than these woods. Not that you would be able to talk anyway. Not with his warm, clothed body pressing down on you. Something about you being almost completely naked while he was still dressed made the moment all the more filthy. 

You were a moaning mess under him, your hands instinctively finding their way into his hair as he fucked you nice and hard. It was overwhelmingly good, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly… 

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “There I am.” He said, thrusting into your extra hard to prove his point. “Deep inside you, right where I belong.” He smirked when your body squirmed under him.

You must’ve lost your mind. You should be screaming for help, not enjoying being fucked by him. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, surely feeling the shameless way you were clenching around his cock. “Yeah you will, won’t you? You dirty little slut,” He chuckled, “Look at you, you can’t even talk or think straight, can you?” He said, with pride in his voice. “No, you like being fucked in the middle of a dark forest too much.” He scoffed, “Go on then, come all over this cock.” 

He pressed his lips to yours as you came first, his mouth swallowing your moans as you let go and came with a muffled cry. 

He smiled into the kiss, “There we go,” He pulled away just barely, gasping for breath as he fucked you through your orgasm, close to coming himself. “I’m gonna fill you up nicely, baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hmm?” 

You let out a choked moan as he came inside you, his body collapsing on top of yours as you both caught your breaths. 

But you couldn’t stay for long, the rain wasn’t stopping. 

– 

Lando managed to get you back into the cabin, and you didn’t fight him as he pulled you into the hot shower. You let him peel away the ragged bits of your clothes which remained on your body. You let him pull you close to him under the shower, but only for a moment. Once your brain fog went away, you tried to pull away and get out but he grabbed you and pulled you back in. 

“Don’t fucking fight me on this, you need to warm up.” He muttered, keeping a tight grip on your wrist even though you glared at him.  

“I wouldn’t need warming up if you weren’t such an animal.” You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip, but he only tightened it. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” He pouted, like a brat who’s finally got his way. “Guess you were moaning too loud. I must’ve missed it.” 

“Fuck you.” You didn’t mind his body heat along with the hot shower. 

He smirked. “Round two for later baby, we need to get you nice and warm first. I can even make you some tea if you want.” 

“Get away from me, you fucking lunatic.” You said frowning, but made no move to actually get away from him. 

“Just let me help, okay?” He looked at you, water running down his face and chest. His curly hair now drenched. He stepped out for a second, wrapped a towel around his waist, and grabbed a large, fluffy towel. “Come here,” He said, holding the towel open. 

You glared at him even as you stepped closer and let him wrap the towel around you. He pulled you close again, like he was holding a giant burrito. 

“What do you want from me? Truthfully?” You didn’t have anything to give. You didn’t have that kind of money. 

“This.” He said, “This right here.” 

“Why me?” 

He sighed, “Because I have a thing for pretty women who pretend they hate me.”  

“I don’t pretend, i actually–,” 

“Shh. Stop fighting with me.” He cut you off. “Isn’t this nice? Hmm? See how good we are when we don’t fight.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“For you.” 

Ugh. So not just a lunatic, a clingy one.

[aangelkeii]

❝𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄❞ | Oops - Tweet, Missy Elliot ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 3: Cock Warming (k.tober 2024)

A/N: GOD DAMNIT. okay so i rushed this im sorry it's not my fav but it's what you're gonna get. i'm so tired rn i should've listened to my girlfriend bro oh my gawd. also the photo of him on the ground is really tasty ngl

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 1.7k (hmm..) | warnings: fem! reader, singular use of the word 'cunt' (sorry, couldn't be helped), cock warming obvi, uhh li'l praise? literally the tiniest bit, this goes on during a stream so like.. voyeurism? viewers are adults dw, pornstar! kuroo is mentioned cuz i think that's so funny, kenma whines. o.0.

Wake up, eat a protein bar, turn on the computer, stream for however many hours, sleep for 3, repeat. 

That’s been Kenma’s routine for the past few weeks. He’s been doing charity with Kuroo, ‘Kodzuken: After Dark’, a cheesy title for a program where he does what he regularly does, just for an all-adult audience. He’s dealt with the guy for this long, and he’d do this stupid thing for him. It’s not good for him, though. It’s absolutely terrible, visible in the dark circles under his eyes and the extreme exhaustion written across his face, but he’s been doing this kind of thing for so long that he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

You beg to differ.

Of course, you support him through his career because it’s what makes him happy (and what makes the money), but it’s gotten to a point that you’re living with a walking zombie instead of your sweet, loving boyfriend. You don’t want to be annoying and pester him about his unhealthy habits, but sometimes you just have to be stern with him. 

Sending him a quick text while he was streaming, asking if he could come to bed soon, proved to work somewhat. He did curl in next to you earlier than he usually did, but it was still considerably late at night. The worst thing about his habits is the fact that even with a total of 21 hours of sleep a week, he still manages to look so good, and feel mostly unaffected by it. Most of his exhaustion comes from the drop of adrenaline after a good stream.

You decided to do something about him. Not in a regular way, but in a way that would make him understand.

In the middle of a stream, you opened the door to the office and peeked your head in. Kenma heard the door creak a bit and muted his mic, turning in his gaming chair and pulling one side of his headphones off of his ear. 

“What’s up?” He muttered, half of his face illuminated by the harsh light of the computer. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, stray pieces tickling his cheeks every time he moved his head. 

“How’s the stream?” You made sure that your face isn’t visible to the webcam. Kenma didn’t want you to show your face to his fans just yet. You understood, flattered that he cared so much early on in your relationship. Even if it’s been 3 years since then, he still stood by his words. “Jus’ wanted to check in.”

He looks back at the screen, reading the chat as they greet you with ‘Lady Kodzuken’, a title that started off as a little joke. It’s the only thing they call you now, not knowing anything about you. “It’s good.”

He looks back at you, giving you a look over while his eyes are away from his nosy viewers. “You going to bed soon?”

You shrug and step into the room, softly closing the door behind you. Kenma’s hand hovers over this stream deck in case he needs to change the screen, but you walk to the side of his desk where the webcam can’t reach. Your hip leans against the desk, his eyes following your every move.

“You gonna come with me?” Your tone is a bit snarky, but mostly teasing. 

He looks back at the screen, the look on his face answering your question. You figured he wasn’t, but you’re still slightly annoyed. “There’s a few more levels, then I’ll join you.”

Nodding slowly, you peek around the screen to read the chat. They’re asking where you went and what you were doing.

You step into frame, and Kenma barely reacts in time to switch the screen, going to ask you what you were doing when you took his face in your hand. Your warm palm pressed gently into his cold cheek makes his eyelids falter just a bit as he relaxes. You soothe his cheekbone with your thumb, looking down at his golden eyes. He has a small look of confusion, brows upturned in question.

“Can I stay here with you?” Your soft voice has him nodding before you even finish your sentence. He doesn’t question you when your free hand goes to the drawstring of your pajama pants, undoing the tie and shimmying them down your legs. It’s only when you step out of them and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants that he snaps out of the trance you put him in.

“Wait–” your hands freeze at his hip bones. He has an internal battle with himself, debating on whether or not he should just end the stream and take you to bed like you wanted or let you sit on his lap with barely anything separating the two of you, but your thumbs delicately brush over his lower stomach.

He gulps and releases a shaky breath, reading the look in your eyes. You don’t plan on just sitting here with him. You’re planning something more.

He nods and you resume your actions, tugging the waistband down, and he lifts his hips for you to pull them off entirely. His hand rests on your hip as you settle on top of his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. He knows immediately that this was a mistake.

He can feel how warm you are, seeping through his bones and warming him from the outside-in. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, digging into the back of the gaming chair, and lean down to kiss his neck.

He feels you shift on his lap, seemingly accidental, but the purposeful roll of your hips down on him tells a different story. The seemingly innocent kisses and tender touches was just a ruse for you to fuck him.

“Babe, I’m streaming,” his voice strains when your fingers creep underneath the band of his boxers, peeling them down enough for his hardening cock to spring up. Your hand palms him, pressing the head against his sweater and leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. It’s embarrassing to him.

“I won’t be bothering you,” you spread the pre cum down his cock, taking your hand away to pull your underwear to the side, sitting against him and rolling your hips. He slips between your lips, knocking against your clit over and over, the stimulation enough to make you clench around nothing. When you raise on your knees and press his tip to your slit, his hands shoot up to the sides of your thighs in warning. 

Sliding down on him slowly, giving yourself enough time to stretch out around him without hurting yourself, Kenma’s already a panting mess beneath you. When the back of your thighs meet the top of his, a pitchy noise leaves his lips and his head falls back in an attempt to control himself.

“Go back to your stream, baby.”

His eyes dart to yours alarmingly, looking at you as if you were crazy. You expect him to continue on like he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you? How can he act like everything’s normal?

You lay your head back into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath of his hoodie, tightening your arms around him as you settle down. A slight shift of his hips has you clenching around him and his head feels like it’s going to roll off of his shoulders. But, he does as you say, unmuting himself with a quiet apology as he switches the screen. Now, he wishes he had set up that screen for when he’s not using his webcam.

The rest of his stream goes by agonizingly slow, periodic twitches of your cunt around his dick that makes him buck his hips involuntarily. You have an impressive talent of keeping yourself dead quiet at times, and he’s entirely grateful for that at this moment. The chat questions every time his face burns a darker red and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, but he brushes them off with some lame excuse. Either his chat is clueless or stupid, because it should be entirely obvious that he’s stuffed inside of you while you cockwarm him with no care in the world. 

His tip keeps nudging against your sweet spot, and after a torturous hour of small, faltering movements, your hips start to pick up in speed. Kenma slams his hand down on his stream deck, switching to some random idle inimation and muting his stream before his hands grip onto your hips, head falling back with a moan. He hasn’t gotten softer with little to no stimulation, only growing painfully more hard. He can feel how wet his boxers have become from how you’re dripping around him, and it’s overstimulating when you increase your speed even more.

“Oh, oh fuck, mmmhn, s’good,” he babbles on, mouthing near your temple, head foggy and determined to come. The slight praise sends a bolt of electricity between your legs, clit pressing harshly into his pelvic bone, stimulating a fire inside of you. It’s a sudden rush of want and need that forces Kenma to reach up to the back of your neck, dragging you away from his neck to slam his lips against yours in an effort to muffle the pathetic whines that pour from his lips. The warmth of his cum inside of you is enough to make you come, too, huffing out your own noises of pleasure as you ride it out on top of him.  

It feels like forever until the heat finally subsides and you lie limp on his lap, arms circled around his torso as you catch your breath. Kenma ends the stream quickly afterwards and plans to tweet out an apology or something, saying it was a technical difficulty, hoping to god that no one points out the obvious signs of his bliss with you. He knows that it’ll spread like wildfire if even a single person mentions it, but he’ll worry about that later.

“I didn’t like that,” his breathless voice speaks into the quiet air.

“Oh?” Your head lifts, slightly worried. Did you cross a line? 

He looks at your face, pupils dilated and face warm from the rush of blood throughout your body. “An hour was too long. We could’ve been in bed by now.”

Your worries are forgotten. You smile and lean closer to kiss him, cradling his face in your hands.

© aangelkeii - do not repost, translate, plagarize, or claim any of my works as your own.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

[neighbourscat]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 , nicholas alexander chavez

THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . celeb!nicholas c. X non-celeb!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. when watching horror movies with your boyfriend leaves you waking throughout the night, you resort to social media to distract you from your disturbing thoughts. scrolling and scrolling, you find yourself on the steamy side of tiktok; your boyfriend the face of this new era.

+ cw. brief description of horror documentary ( no specific title ). mature language! established relationship, painfully horny reader // somnophilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cock-warming for a bit, multiple orgasms + orgasm denial, creampie.

+ nali’s notes; pure filth. wordcount :: 2.6k+

+ to be played: back to sleep, chris brown. || alternative: p power, gunna ( no drake, ver ).

THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.

you knew you shouldn’t have gave into your boyfriend’s request for a ‘horror movie’ night. it was the first night of october, so you figured why not ( and you regret that ). you prepared trays of snacks; anything you could find in the pantry: chocolate covered pretzels, leftover tostitos chips and spicy cheese dip — which you couldn’t eat at all, unfortunately. you couldn’t understand how your boyfriend could watch those scenes and continue to stuff his face. like the one with the human man meat-grinding another human man; breaking him down to bits and pieces in order to better dispose of him.

after the second and final movie, you told nicholas to lock up once more — your level of paranoia astronomical. there would be no recovering from those movies, especially not in the month of october — “no one is coming in here,” nicholas said for the fifth time, teasingly, crunching up the empty bag of tostitos. “you don’t know that,” you had said, peeking through the cozy throw blanket. you were sitting criss-crossed, nicholas’s pumpkin-blanket outlined around your face and body.

nicholas laughed to himself, licking at his salty fingers. you saw as he turned his back toward you and started for the kitchen to wash his hands — leaving you all alone in the living area. you tensed, scrunching your knees up to your chest and becoming a tight ball.

on any regular night — when your imagination wasn’t filled with slideshows of dismembered human bodies ( mostly children’s. you swore tv-people couldn’t show that shit on television, even if it was all makeup ) or a creature that melted people and used their gushy remains to grow in height, weight, and strength — you would have the window blinds snapped closed, leaving you and your boyfriend in pitch black darkness.

not tonight. fuck that.

after jumping into bed and diving under the blanket, you demanded your boyfriend to open the blinds — and to leave them wide open. you felt like a small girl again, needing her nightlight and closet doors firmly closed. the jackets that you and nicholas had hooked on the walls were also placed into the closet. the reason why they were out on the wall in the first place, was because there was no room in the closet. but nicholas made room — needing to shut your complaining.

you were in and out of sleep for the next four hours. twisting and turning, latching yourself onto nicholas’ arm or his torso, scrolling through instagram and tiktok; sending your close friends reels and responding to fan accounts of nicholas’ — but you straightened up a bit when an edit took over your screen.

without a second thought, without a slight consideration or hesitation — you hearted the video, added it to your favourites, saved the video to your phone, and commented an excessive amount of heart-eye emojis. and when you scrolled up . .. . you scrolled back down to rewatch the edit. you propped yourself onto an elbow, letting it play and play over and over again. and suddenly, the dark hadn’t been so scary anymore. you kept the volume down low, the lyrics of ‘p-power’ by gunna faint; as well as the moaning in the background.

you pulled your eyes from your phone screen, only for a second at the low sound of nicholas tugging the blanket up to his chest. he rolled onto his side and let out a low breath, the moonlight illuminating his features. you raked your fingers through his hair and with your other hand, you swiped over to view the profile and watched more edits of your boyfriend — finding that over thirty minutes had gone; thirty minutes of watching your boyfriend do his job ( hotly ).

nicholas turned onto his backside once again, pushing the blanket downward and away from his bare chest. his sleeping form was always . .. . too tempting not to feel a little tingling on your insides. nicholas liked sleeping with only his briefs on and no matter how normal that was, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander around; even more so after liking and saving all of those edits.

there was something about actually having him here beside you. there’s something in the way his body was ( so toned and muscular ) spread out on his side of the bed and the way his face is as calm as the waters of a lake during a summer evening, or maybe . .. . it was the little tent between his legs that his boxers revealed, that increased your body temperature.

turning off your phone, you felt bad for being turned on just by the way he looked when he was asleep . .. . perhaps it was the effect love had on you or it was just another kink or the velocity edits, you didn’t know yet, but the aching burn in your stomach didn’t stop you from cuddling up beside him.

you rested your head on his spread arm and snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. the familiar scent made you smile and, for a short moment, you thought you could stay like this. maybe this is what you needed; the warmth of his relaxed body calmed you for a while, but then . .. . your hand moved like it had a mind of its own.

you trailed your fingers along his collarbones and he hummed in his sleep, shifting a bit. he looked so . .. . so cute, you couldn’t stop yourself from travelling far south, to caress his chest and abdomen as softly as possible, trying not to wake him up. and in this very moment, you felt like the luckiest woman on the planet; touching on the man that millions were so very attracted to.

you felt every muscle of his abdomen, which made your bottom lip get trapped between your teeth, to prevent a sigh from leaving you. mindlessly, you scooched in closer — your hand needed to go further down, past his sharp v-line, but you weren’t sure. your hand itched for it. for him, but your mind wouldn’t allow it just yet.

and when the slightly lined abs flexed under your touch, you immediately checked his face, afraid that you might’ve woken him —

— but his closed eyes and steady breathing told you otherwise. so, your arm moved to his exposed thigh. his skin was warm, and as you caressed and fondled with his body, the sinful thought of taking his cock out and stroking him, made you press your thighs together. the moans that would fall from his soft lips and the way he’d buck his hips up begging for more, using your soft hand to chase and tip over the edge, only made your breathing heavier.

and the thought of his brown eyes on you as you gently kissed his fiery tip and pumped the rest of him drove you crazy, to say the least. you could picture it . .. . but you wanted to taste it even more; you wanted to feel him shiver as your mouth wrapped around him. you wanted his world to center around you, your name heavy on his tongue, viscous and filling his mouth like honey until he was drowning in a pool of ecstasy.

you wanted him to cup the sides of your head in his big hands — his fingers holding your braids together in a messy ponytail — and start thrusting himself into the slick warmth of your mouth, pathetically using your throat as his own personal fleshlight, the constant flow of his thick precum and your saliva leaking onto the bed sheets. you wanted to hear him groan deep within the pits of his chest . .. .

but you closed your eyes, restricting yourself to only imagine. your mind no longer filled with horrible images of bloody corpses, but of nicholas fucking himself up into your body over and over again — the crotch of your panties were damp and at this point, you hadn’t realized how your grip on his thigh had tightened or how the muscles rippling through his skin had stiffened.

“ . .. . get on top . ..” his sleepy voice, raspy and deep, rang in your ears and you snapped your head toward him, wide-eyed. the burn in your stomach ached even more at the sight of nicholas’ still closed eyes and messy brown hair. you pushed yourself up a bit, staring down at his face. you poked at his cheek and he rubbed his eyes with a groan. he gave his thighs a pat, at which you got the message: come, and straddled his waist without any question or trouble.

“i’m sorry . .. .” you apologized lowly, feeling guilty for being the reason he was no longer sound asleep. nicholas shook his head, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and answered quietly, “don’t be sorry, pretty.” and then, “take what you need,” nicholas said under his breath and the tone made your eyes fall heavy. “you can take me.”

you leaned in and pecked his cheek, but as you pulled away he chased after your lips with a soft pout. a slow, open-mouthed kiss was all it took for the sigh you’d been holding back to finally escape you and when it did, his grip on your hips tightened. his fingers dug and dug into your brown skin, his pulse thumping and pounding. nicholas moved you a smidge, just enough to have you sitting right over his bulge — and his legs trembled, “shhit .. .” breaking the kiss.

you found his mouth again. and as you kissed; his tongue delving between your lips, your hand slid to the grown arousal — his breath hitched as your hand brushed against his hardness through the thin fabric. and you dipped your hand passed the waistband — taking him out of the obstacle that the underwear was.

you gave a clean up and down pump of your hand and nicholas groaned lowly into your mouth. as you gave another and another, he ripped his lips away from yours and tilted his head back into the pillow, the heat and pressure of your hand too delicious. it was almost too much to bear.

his muscles tensed and his breathing became shallow and ragged. nicholas could feel the intensity and pleasure building within him with every stroke of your hand. “need’ta . .. .” he mumbled, his voice low and strained. “holy shitt-oh fuck.” nicholas bit down on his lower lip, eyelids fluttering shut. he needed to be inside of you. he needed to feel your body wrapped around him. he needed you like he needed to breathe.

and when he felt your hand no longer pumping, he opened his eyes — staring up at the ceiling. “wha-what happened?” he had asked, coming to lift up . .. . and his voice died to a scratchy whisper at the feeling of you lining him up between your pussy lips. you moved your wrist; rubbing him side to side, his tip kissing at your clit and just almost pushing into your slit, collecting your syrupy slick — shivers washed your spine.

if it wasn’t for his arms helping, you wouldn’t have started pushing down. nicholas guided your hips down and the sight of his cock disappearing within you was just as overwhelming as the feel of your ribbed walls. “oh. .. . fuckkk.” he groaned deeply, his nails digging into your flesh even harder — the tightness and warmth of you brought tears to his eyes. nicholas could barely keep himself from bucking up into you . .. . but he wanted you to set the pace. he wanted you in control.

“y-you’re squeezing,” he muttered cutely, in a breathless whisper.

you hadn’t realized how needy you were until nicholas was shifting underneath you, burying his cock to the hilt — you felt full all over. you resisted the urge to pound down on him for the sake of his still sleepy daze. your hands landed on his chest for support and you raised your hips slowly.

the wetness of your cunt was enough to slip him in and out with ease — smooth gliding and a wet little smack when you touched down — and soon, you picked the pace up, just enough to hear his deep, guttural moans. you rode him slowly, feeling his tip reach deep at this angle while he eyed you with a drowsy stare. nicholas was losing his mind, his eyes now practically rolling in the back of his head. nicholas released a sharp, low breath, staring up at you then, “you’re makin’ it so hard to keep still . ..”

“you don’t even know,” he said, gritting his teeth.

raising your hips, it took quite some effort to pull him out that far because he was so girthy. your walls were literally pulling at his cock as if you didn’t want to let him go. which you didn’t. you did it slowly, terribly slow, every millimetre had your pussy lips tracing another facet of him.

a breathy moan fell from your lips, which made nicholas force you faster down on him and you clenched, instantly. “let me do it . .. .” he pleaded — the wet, squelchy sounds that came from where your body met his, was quiet enough to indicate lazy, early morning sex between lovers, and the rhythm was not a particularly quick one, but one to make the burn in your stomach feel like it’ll soon be on fire.

“let me, baby.” as you were about to give attention to your clit, nicholas planted his feet into the mattress and snapped his hips up, hitting your g-stop instantly. a muffled cry filled the room and the sudden lack of energy made you fall over him. nicholas snaked both arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, holding you firmly against his chest. “nngh-! just like that!” you whined.

your body worked with his, chasing after release.

"f-fuck-nic, please.. ." your jaw clenched so hard, you thought you were moments away from breaking your teeth.

he wanted to kiss you so badly, but the position was too good and he loved seeing the way your lips formed a small ‘O’ with every few thrusts. “baby . .. . shit, i need you’ta cum.” it was his way of hinting that he was struggling and he hoped you would understand it. “want’cha’ta look at me when you cum .. . okay?”

you gave him an eager nod, holding onto his forearms; you felt his arms flex and strain with how fast he was ramming into you. you wanted to hold it in until he came with you, but nicholas got the pump just right — your breaths were short — and you were having trouble keeping your eyes on his. it didn’t take too much longer to have you thrashing and shivering and cunning so hard. he doesn’t stop then.

his heavy breaths got mixed with curses at the feeling of your walls clenching continuously. nicholas continued to move his cock in and out of you, digging and scratching deep — hitting the spots that he knows only his tip can touch. “cum again . .. .”

“need’a feel it again.” the moonlight and his sweat made him shine, highlighting the sharpness to his jaw, the tension in his arms as he lifted you up by an inch; a slight new angle. wet skin slapping was all that could overshadow your moans and pleas. but he could hear you; loud and clear. his attention was all on you.

you might have tried to say something but your incoherent mumbles weren't meant for him to understand. because of his desperate need to keep you tethered as him, he still does not stop. you're howling, and curling into him, and cunt frothing with an orgasm lost into the next.

“s-shhit, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled, heaving a breathless sigh. nicholas slowed his hips then; your pussy clenched so hard, so tight, that he could barely move. your clit screamed with the beating and thudding of your heart, loud in your ears and blocking the harsh cries and breathy gasps tearing from your throat.

stifled cries tickled nicholas’ neck, one hand holding your head, you trembled with your nails clawing in his shoulders for strength. he jerked up and gripped your ass tightly, but instead of forcing you to your limits till he came in you, he stilled himself — just sitting inside of you like this burned . .. . so good. nicholas had never felt so close to you, so intimately connected. he could lose himself in you forever.

nicholas was right there, quiet moans escaping him as more time passed. but it was evident that he was still holding out — you could feel his cock twitching. your hands cupped his cheeks, your fingers gently scratching the back of his ears. “why are you torturin’ yourself? hmm?” you asked softly, resting your forehead against his.

he came harder when he denied himself. “th’ build up.” it came out quiet and short and he knew if he stayed like this that he wouldn’t last much longer. “cum, baby . .. .” you pleaded, “please .. .” you squeezed him in just the right way that his chest was rising and falling rapidly. and then he couldn’t hold it in anymore — he was where he wanted to be.

“holy fuck-i’m gonna cum.” his voice was desperate.

the plastic band holding him back from his orgasm snapped as he thrusted particularly deep, and he arched his back off of the bed — letting him reach just a little deeper, just enough to send him over the edge again, more curses spilled from his lips. white filled his vision, red hot pleasure searing his body from head to toe, and you kissed him through it.

you knew you could fall asleep now.

[reidmania]

to be loved is to be known | s.reid

summary; all spencer needs to know you've had a bad day is to see your comfort movie playing on the tv when he gets home. He then makes it his duty to brighten your day in the little ways.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad days, reader is emotional, established relationships, mainly fluff, hurt x comfort.

an; to start beartober!! 1.2k words

beartober masterlist

The soft glow of the television fills the living room, flickering images of your comfort movie casting shadows across the walls. You’re curled up on the couch, wrapped tightly in your favourite blanket, its warmth a soothing cocoon against the weight of the day. It’s been a rough one; the kind that makes you want to disappear into the familiar scenes of a film that knows you better than you know yourself. Everything seemed to go wrong, all you wanted was to hide yourself away from the world.

The sound of the front door creaking open breaks the comfortable silence, and you catch the familiar rhythm of Spencer’s footsteps as he enters. You don’t need to see him to feel the warmth that follows in his wake, a steady presence that you cherish.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, his voice a gentle balm. You turn your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him as he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. It’s a familiar gesture, yet each time it feels like a little spark, igniting something within you, his hand reaches out to brush stray baby hairs away from your forehead.

“Hi,” you reply, managing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You can tell he notices the slight furrow of his brow giving him away, his gaze flickers to the tv, taking note of the movie you were playing, and as if that was an answer in itself, he looks back at you with a light lipped smile.

Without breaking the gaze, he presses a quick, soft kiss against your lip before he straightens up, “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?” 

You watch him as he heads toward the door, confusion mingling with a flicker of curiosity. “Where are you going?” you ask, but he just smiles, a  warm glint in his eyes, and then he’s gone.

Left in the quiet once more, you return to the movie, but it doesn’t capture your attention as it usually does. Time seems to stretch on, the scenes on the screen blending together as your mind wanders. The warmth of the blanket is comforting, yet you can’t help but feel a twinge of anticipation mixed with uncertainty. You waited for him to be home all day, and he was back for maybe a solid minute and thirty eight seconds before he left again, that left your chest a little heavy with confusion.

Just as you begin to wonder if you should check your phone, the front door swings open again, and Spencer steps inside. He’s holding something behind his back, a broad grin plastered across his face. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity piqued.

“Angel?” he announces, his tone teasing as he reveals a vibrant bouquet of flowers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other. “You’re sad” He mumbled, offering an explanation for his sudden delivery as you repositioned on the couch before standing up.

You blink in surprise, your heart swelling as you take in the sight. The flowers are a riot of colours—bright yellows and soft pinks, a cheerful contrast to the grey day outside. The ice cream, you notice, is your favourite flavour, the one that has always made your days a little brighter.

“Oh, Spencer...” Your voice catches, a mix of shock and gratitude flooding your system. “You didn’t have to do all this.” You pouted a frown, your hands slightly shaking. 

He steps closer, the flowers held out like an offering. “But I wanted to. I know you’ve had a rough day, and I thought this might help.” His eyes search yours, filled with sincerity. You take the flowers, inhaling their sweet, fresh scent as you feel warmth prickling at the corners of your eyes. “This is so sweet,” you say, your voice wavering, maybe it was all the emotions of the day catching up to you.

He shrugs, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour as he catches sight of your watering eyes. “Angel- Baby no- Don’t cry! It’s just flowers and ice cream– You deserve it, you deserve everything.”

You shake your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. “No, really. It’s more than that. It means so much to me.”

Spencer’s smile widens, and he steps closer, wrapping his arms around you. The embrace is warm and grounding, a safe haven from the chaos of the day. You lean into him, the flowers nestled between you, their vibrant colours a testament to the kindness blooming in your heart. “Do you want me to run you a bath?,” he asks, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his voice was gentle and warm. You shake your head, yet feeling the warmth of gratitude spill over, as sweet as the offer was, all you wanted right now was to bury yourself by his side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, another offer of comfort. He never seems to run out of offerings to make you feel better. He leads you back to the couch, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table before finding a seat beside you. You arrange the flowers in a vase, letting their beauty fill the room as you prepare to dig into the treat he’s brought.

“Not really” You mumbled out honestly. It wasn’t the sort of thing you talked about, everything was just too much, it was just one of those days where everything seemed to be wrong, and you were tired, and the weather was bad. It was just a bad day. “You’ve done– so much” You shook your head as you looked at the flowers and ice cream. Sure, it's a little thing but it's more about the fact he just – knew. 

Spencer looks at you, a softness in his gaze that makes your heart swell. “I care about you sweetheart” It's a reminder you didn’t know you needed verbally till it left his lips. “I want you to feel loved, especially on days like today.”

You pause, meeting his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. “I know.” And you did, you knew it because Spencer proved it time after time again. 

He nudges your shoulder lightly, a playful spark in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to be sad anymore. I’ve declared it.”

“Is that how it works?” you tease back, feeling lighter already.

“Absolutely,” he says, his tone mock-serious. “If I can make you  feel better at least a little then the day has been a success.” And the playfulness left as soon as it came as his tone returned to so genuine it made your head spin. 

His sincerity makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you struggle to find the right words. “I really don’t deserve you,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

“Don’t say that,” he replies, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You deserve all this and more.”

A lump forms in your throat as you look into his eyes, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You realise how lucky you are to have someone who knows you so deeply, who sees the moments of struggle and responds with love and kindness.

“Thank you,” you finally manage, your voice wavering as you blink back tears.

He smiles softly, and in that moment, you know that everything will be okay. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling safe and cherished, knowing that with Spencer by your side, even the heaviest days can be softened by the sweetness of his love for you.

[thesassypadawan]

Are You Afraid Of The Dark (Luke x FemReader)

Summary:  This isn’t how you imagined your Halloween night panning out.  You thought you would just have a little ‘fun’, while spooking the ever-living shit out of your poor scaredy cat.  Instead things have changed…in a ghoulishly delightful sort of way. 

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.  Cockwarming, spooky movie, and…Luke’s long, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡

- Warm breath fans across your face, lips graze the shell of your ear.  “What’s the matter, pumpkin?”  Strong arm tightens around your waist; presses and keeps your back firmly to his chest.  While his hand gripes gently, lazily traces ‘soothing’ circles on your thigh.  “Too spooky for a scaredy cat like you?”

- Huffing softly, you shift and fidget on Luke’s lap.  “Me…ME?!”  His thick cock buried deep in your cunt, brushing at that sweet little spot.  “I’m n-not the one who insists w-we sleep with a nightlight.”

- “Sssh…”  Fingers knead, squeeze your subtle flesh; slowly migrate lower, ghost over your pert mound.  Causing the heat to blossom on your cheeks, spread through your body. “It’s about to get to the good part.”

- “W-wait, this isn’t how it’s s-supposed to happen!”  You try your best to stop him, wriggle free.  Turn off the tv before it gets to that one gory scene, the very one that made you chose to watch this slasher flick…in hopes of giving him a good freight.  “You’re t-the one-”

- The screen fades to black and the music grows more intense.  You already know what’s coming next, there’s not a single doubt in your mind.  However that still doesn’t stop you from involuntarily rocking your hips.  Plush walls starting to clench around him from the tension building up in the room, inside of you.  “Noooo!  Don’t g-go in there!  No no n-no no…”

- A high-pitched scream…  The sight and sound of blood splattering…  And…  “NOOO!!”

- “Calm down…”  He coos, his hold on you tightening.  Nose nuzzling your neck affectionately, teeth nip ever so tenderly.  “I’m right here…”

- Dipping between your soaked folds, he rolls your neglected nub.  “Nothing big and bad is going to hurt you…”  Teasing it a bit; applying just enough pressure to make your legs start quivering, feeling like jelly.  “Except maybe…me.”

- With a low growl, he thrusts upwards.  “Thought you were real sneaky, huh?”  Fat tip slamming, hitting your cervix in such a delicious way.  That has you gasping, mewling weakly from the overwhelming rush of both pleasure and fear.  “Telling me this was going to be another ‘hocus pocus’ kiddie movie; didn’t have anything to worry about.”

- Head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes clamp shut.  Desperately wanting to hide away, from the horrific scene that plays out in front of you. “Meanwhile, you were planning to scare the ever-living shit out of me.”  Covering up the fact that he has your stomach twisting, knotting up from your approaching orgasm.  “Well, got news for you.”

- Slapping your pussy harshly, you cry out.  Eyes snapping open, widening in fright at the sight of another victim being slayed.  “Tables been turned.”  Back arching slightly, hips grinding against his pathetically.  “Now you’re going to be screaming and begging…all movie long.”

- Pace increases; vision blurs from your tears of terror, ecstasy.  You’re so painfully close to unraveling completely, crashing and spiraling into the abyss.  All you can manage to do is babble, whine as you slump forward; a last-ditch effort to block out the carnage.  “Pro-promise, w-won’t do it again!  Please, just…just…”   

- “When you put it that way.”  Grabbing your chin, pinching it between his thumb and index finger.  You think he’s going to subject you to watching the next untimely death though, instead… “Fine; make a deal with you, sweetheart.  I’ll turn this off, finish taking care of you.  Only if answer my question.”  …he turns your face towards him.  “Are you afraid of the dark?”

- Licking your lips; walls pulsing, shuddering.  And you can’t help but compare Luke’s grin to the villain’s, as he chops up the next poor unfortunate soul.  “I-I’ll admit it…”

- This isn’t how you imagined your Halloween night panning out.  But with the way he’s making you wail and rearranging your guts.  “I-I’m…”  It’s going to ended up being much MUCH better, a ghoulishly delightful one.   “Afraid of the d-dark…"

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @avescorner-blog, @valyna27, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @laoif, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fredswrite

[oimitocat]

YOU TELL ME | OS

༘۠ hyunjin x artist! m!reader

༘۠ falling in love + nsfw + one night stand + fan (hyunjin) x artist (reader) + masturbation + teasing + getting together

༘۠ a/n; nothing else to add, just that the nsfw is more like a flashback than full blown smut

“this week’s biggest news! artist y/n is doing a world tour! the rising artist had caught a lot of attention not only from his new album that has reached top fifty on the billboard charts but also prying eyes from his recent attendance at a fashion event in seoul, korea! the artist has spoken about his—”

hyunjin zones out after half of the video. the video of y/n smiling catching his full attention. you have a beautiful smile, one he had fallen in love with even more the moment he saw you in person at the fashion event. up until now he’s only been seeing you through his phone, hoping for a chance in his schedule to visit your concerts and get an autograph.

“how about i sign you instead of this picture?” you ask with a mischievous grin.

“—the artist is dropping his tour list today at eight pm. comment down where you live and if you’re excited to hear his newest album in person!”

hyunjin look at the time at the top of his phone screen. it’s 6:30 am right now. which means the tour list already dropped. he quickly goes to your instagram and squeals at the sight of the post. his eyes rack the list but his smile falters after a while. you’re going to the usa, italy, portugal, germany and spain. not korea. of course, no one really comes to korea. he sighs, turning his phone off and staring out into the darkness of his room.

“i’m sorry?” he asked, confused at what you had said. “sign me?”

immediately, a paper is held up to hyunjin by a man standing next to y/n. hyunjin recognizes the paper, he doesn’t even have to read what’s on it. he knows. he looks up at you, startled and bewildered. is this… for real?

he had managed to get you on the way to the restroom. the event was still going, everyone is still sitting and socializing. he turns to his own escort. he’s never been in this situation, he himself has never asked a fan to sign the nda contract. as exhilarating as this is, it’s also very… embarrassing.

“hyunjin, right?” you ask, snapping him out of his mental turmoil. “don’t you want to get to know me?”

hyunjin swallows, “pen?”

the sight of your grin growing makes him want to combust in the spot.

he turns over, groaning out of embarrassment. did he have to sound so stupidly nervous? he can’t complain though, at the end of the day he got to experience something even better with you. the memory itself makes him a hot mess. all he had asked was when your new album would drop. he made conversation for once because it was literally a once in a lifetime opportunity.

and well…

the hotel. you were escorted to the hotel thirty minutes away from the event. the whole event you kept glancing at him. eye fucking him. not just him though, he was aware of everyone else eyeing him — yet, your eyes were what mattered most to him. he’s smiling to himself, biting his thumb until the time arrives.

he even texted felix, letting him know he’s on the verge of throwing up from nerves. all he received was a ‘liar, stop being delusional’. to which he replies with a picture of you serving him a glass of wine.

he pulls up that exact picture, eyeing your side profile. your hands— “oomf,” he groans, shoving his face into the pillow. those same hands that roamed his body.

he doesn’t exactly know what to say, he just listens to you talk. yet, his eyes are on you hand. the rings that decorate your fingers. you have one on each finger except the thumb.

he asked about it after you finish talking about how the event security did another artist dirty. you pause, looking at him intensely before smiling.

“it’s more aesthetically pleasing that way. don’t worry though, i’ll have my hands clean for you.” he stares at you with wide eyes as you lean in, after all, i want to feel you under them.”

and he leans in to kiss you.

hyunjin turns his phone off again, screaming into his pillow. the nerve he had! to kiss you! what if you thought he was desperate. well, regardless, what’s done is done. you had him and he had you. the desperation was both sided…

“you know you’re beautiful, right? why say it?” you say as you slide your hands up his inner thighs, feeling the firmness of his muscles. “you’re already a work of art,” he whines when your hand grazes his hardened member. “let me add some final touches though.”

you kiss his jaw, slowly going further down his neck. there’s a spot that get a gasp out of him. you kiss and lick, humming and moaning at his noises. he sounds so beautiful. you kiss down his collabone, his chest. as you reach his nipple, you bring your other hand up to his neck. the weight of your hand— ringless, because you had taken them off before bringing him to the bed— making him whimper. you suck and nibble on his hardened bud. he jolts and writhes under you, you have to add some pressure on his neck to get him to behave.

it’s hot. really hot. hyunjin almost cums from your attention alone. you kiss further down, your hand leaving his neck and coming down to his thighs. he gasps and buckles his hips when you kiss his leaking tip.

“don’t worry pretty,” you breathe out, smiling at how undone he’s becoming in your hands, “you’ll get what you want.” and you take him in your mouth.

hyunjin moans as he cums in his hand. he goes limp on his bed, airy breaths leaving his mouth. he closes his eyes, the last smile you threw at him before leaving the hotel replaying in his head. he remembers how weak his legs were after hours of you pounding him into the sheets. after coming four times and the aftercare that came with it.

it was so much.

yet so little.

——

weeks pass by. months. hyunjin is stuck reminiscing on the past, at some point he doesn’t. his schedule gets hectic again. there is hope though. hope that one day you two could do something again or maybe just text. it’s not possible though, his management wouldn’t allow it unless the two of you undergo some sort of process. which sucks.

he’s being delusional, especially now with how he was told two months ago that they will be attending an award ceremony. the billboard awards.

the practice is crazy. the schedule is hectic. he wants to barf at some point because you’re going to be somewhere near his seat and the thought alone makes him nervous. will you treat him indifferently? will you act like nothing happened?

“you good?” felix asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

they’re backstage now, ready to perform.

“i wanna throw up,” he confesses, giving felix a look.

the younger catches on fast. almost everyone in the group already knows now, his anxiety as the day of the awards drew near was too worrying. they all assured him they’ll have his back, yet he still doesn’t know what he’ll do if he really does become another person on your list that was a one time thing. obviously, it’s better for both of you for it to not repeat.

yet, he can’t help but be hopeful. as much as he knows it’s for the best… as much as he knows that the contract strictly says this will not be repeated… why is his heart so yearning?

he doesn’t mean to. he looks across the stage and glides over the countless faces before them when they finish their stage.

“wonderful work out there!” their managers yell out as they all file backstage. “if anyone needs to use the bathroom go now.”

“i’m good,” seungmin shrugs.

“come with me?” felix asks hyunjin, who nods.

hyunjin and felix are the only ones that go. felix happily praises him for “not spilling your guts out! see? all good!”

hyunjin rolls his eyes and shoves felix into the stall. he waits outside by the sinks, looking at himself in the mirror. he’s damp with sweat, his hair is still a little messy, they’ll do touch ups once they return.

the door opens, he’s not a social person, so he shies away and doesn’t dare look at the person.

“hey hyunjin,” you say loud enough for him to hear. he turns around, almost getting whiplash. you were standing before him, smiling warmly. “you look great,” you grin, “i’ve always wanted to see you perform…”

“ah, th-thank you, you perform in a bit, r-right?” hyunjin can’t believe it.

“yeah but…” you look around, “we could perform something else together later…”

hyunjin blinks. he wants to be swallowed up whole right now. felix is here. “i- uh…”

“hey, sorry, i don’t want us to just be hooking up… it’s hard to get past your management,” you hum, “let’s stay in contact. i liked talking to you, yeah we had fun but i like hearing your stories.”

hyunjin swallows, “ah yeah… me too, um, i could fight something out for us.”

“i’ll give you my personal number,” you offer, “just for you.”

you’re a lot closer now. he looks down at your lips, “okay, i’d like that.”

“awesome, good to know we’re on the same page.” you chuckle. “wanna wish me good luck on the stage?”

hyunjin can’t help but give you a look, “you don’t need luck, y/n.” he leans in and pecks your lips, “a kiss yes, but luck?”

you’re quite taken aback, really. yet, you grin, “yeah, i need you more.”

“ah, my teammate is here,” he ushers, panicked.

“ah,” you laugh. “okay then, one more kiss will do just fine.”

hyunjin’s heart could practically leap out of his chest.

and he kisses you, arms around your neck. he doesn’t want to let go, but with how sweet you’re being, he knows he’ll see you a lot sooner again. the hug you give him feels so good, he wishes you two had more time.

later, when you win an award. the words that come out of your mouth makes him want to die then and there.

“-and i also want to thank that person that gave me a good luck charm before coming here. i was good with just that but now having this award it feels like i have it all, thank you all for supporting me until now! i hope you continue to support me!”

felix’s side eye is something hyunjin might never live down.

[moonsceptre]

do you think bretlejuice loved lydia in the first movie or it was to get into the human world?

It was debunked in the second movie that his reasoning was exclusively to become mortal, so I don't know why people still believe that.

Jeremy knows the process of swapping places with a mortal and he tries to trick Astrid into doing it. This did not require marriage. If Betelgeuse wanted to trap Lydia, he would have offered her a place in the afterlife just as Jeremy did. Lydia wanted to die so it's not like it would have been a difficult task to convince her, yet he asked her "why?" bewildered that she actually wanted to be dead, and made up some bullshit that he needed marriage to be free.

Marriage between the dead and the living seems to be a mutual agreement to traverse both realms together, which contextually makes sense for Betelgeuse and Lydia because neither of them want to be alone anymore. Why would Betelgeuse even want to become human again? He has timewarping powers and can levitate.. throwing all of that away would not benefit him. Marrying Lydia was killing two birds with one stone: remain with the love of his life forever, and travel between life and death together. This is what happens in the cartoon, too.

1st Movie

• Betelgeuse had time to silently study Lydia, as Juno told the Maitlands off for not putting him away. Juno had to summon a brothel just to distract him from Lydia.

• "I don't want to do business with you deadbeats anyway, thank you. The only one I think I can deal with is Edgar Allan Poe's daughter. She understands me."

• "We've come for your daughter, Chuck."

His intentions are told to your face. Falling in love didn't just randomly happen off screen. Maybe this is my assumption but I get the impression the shippers who insist he wasn't interested in the first movie are just puritans who want Beej to be a perfect sweetheart who does no wrong lol.

And this?

From the 1990 sequel's scrapped script, there's a few things that are total nonsense and a few things that have remained canon.

Betelgeuse takes a polaroid picture of Lydia out of his pocket several times. He looks at it constantly while they're separated. I believe this was going to be a recurring motif where Betelgeuse was so besotted by her that he kept her picture on him at all times.

When Betelgeuse is trying to persuade Lydia, you can see he has a polaroid tucked away in his robe.

Who else would it be other than Lydia?

...Sorry, I waffled so much on this answer. @_@

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Late Meetings (Vox x Reader)

CW: Dub con, Somnophilia, Weirdly fluffy- Rated: Adult Summary: Vox comes home from a meeting that ran late to find himself entranced by the beauty of your sleeping form, lit by nothing but the dim glow of his screen. *Technically a sequel to Home but not required reading*

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Vox’s shoulders sagged as he walked through the too brightly lit hallway. It was always lit to the extreme, no matter the time of day, chasing away any shadows enemies could hide within. The result was a cold sterility that couldn’t be banished no matter the warm pinks and purples that made up Vee tower’s distinctive decor. 

Without looking at a clock, there was no way for anyone to know it was nearly one past midnight. Vox didn’t need to look at his watch to know that. His software kept perfect time, regardless of if he wanted to lose track of the minutes or hours. The result was his aggravation growing as the meeting ran longer by the hour. 

Deep dread quickly replaced that aggravation. It was supposed to be an early night. He had promised you he would be home before it was too late. You had planned a special dinner, a night in with wine and music and once again, his inability to say no to his work ruined things. 

He didn’t know why you put up with him. You deserved so much more than a man married to his company. 

Vox placed his hand against the plate, letting his clawed handprint scan and grant him entry to the modest apartment. Every time he tried to upgrade you, you turned him down. Though you and Vox had been dating for almost a year now, you refused to hold his status above others. 

You insisted on working, spending your hours behind your VoxTek issued laptop and spending your nights in the VoxTek employee apartment issued to you. He had tried to waive your rent at least, but the first month the payment didn’t withdraw from your account, you had walked the cash right up to his office and put it on his desk. 

Unlike the hallway, the apartment was shrouded in a deep darkness. Every light was off, except for the small light above the kitchen island. As he closed the door behind him, Vox dimmed the screen that made up his face. You had made plenty of adjustments while learning to live and love a man whose face was essentially an all in one computer screen, but you drew the line at the bright blue light blinding you in the darkness. 

Fear jolted through him as he picked up the note sitting on the counter. It was baseless; he knew even before he read the words, but that did nothing to stop the dread from rooting in his heart for those few seconds. You always left him a note when he was expected but didn’t make it before bed. 

As expected, you had put up his plate for him, hoped he would have good news from the meeting, and wished him goodnight. He was tired, more than anything. There wasn’t another thought spared to the food sitting in the fridge. 

What Vox wanted was to wrap his arms around you, nestle you against his side as he caught what few hours of sleep he could. He flipped off the light, using the dim blue light of his screen to see his way through the hall. While he walked, he pulled the tie from around his neck, letting it fall to the ground. 

He toed his shoes off as he approached the door, left cracked open. Clawed fingers worked the buttons down his shirt free. He was thankful he skipped the vest tonight, leaving him with fewer layers to shed as he drew closer to the bed. 

He stood for a moment, wearing nothing but his boxers and look in your sleeping form. One day, he would be brave enough to ask you what you had done that got you sentenced to an afterlife in hell. Until then, he would enjoy the delusion that you had done nothing to deserve the punishment. 

He slipped into the bed after letting his boxers fall to the ground. There were sweatpants in the dresser, but he was too tired to bother with them tonight. All he wanted was to hold you. 

Clawed fingertips caressed your arm, urging you to cuddle closer to him. You were so pretty, turning into him as soon as you felt the weight of his body in the bed with you. Though you were not a moth demon, Vox thought your sleeping form was drawn to the dim light of his screen in much a similar way. 

Vox settled onto his side, propping his torso up on an elbow as he watched you sleep. Fingers caressed up your thighs, taking in the feeling of you. He could spend decades with you and not grow tired of the feeling of your soft skin under his hands.

Higher and higher, his hand caressed absently, running under the silky fabric of her nightgown. Everything about you was so soft to the touch. Before he realized it, his hand was ghosting over the curve of your hips. 

He was suddenly aware of the fact that you had nothing on under the nightgown. It was more than just the dinner you had planned for your evening with him he missed out on. 

You sighed in your sleep, shifting slightly onto your back. Vox hadn’t intended to allow his hand to wander, but your shift of position had his hand grazing over your pubic mound. If his fingers were there, he may as well feel a little more of what he missed out on… right? What harm was there in that?

Vox ran his fingers along your slit, parting your folds and running a cold claw over the delicate nub of nerves nested just within the head of the folds. It took only a few strokes to have your legs falling apart and your breath coming in soft pants. Slick gathered at your opening as he worked through your folds again and again. 

“Vox,” you breathed his name in your sleep, eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids. 

A grin spread across his screen as he listened to her call out his name. Even in your sleep, you were so loyal to him. It was he that you dreamed of, even after he ruined your date night in with his meeting. 

He loved you more than he dared to tell anyone, including you. Sure, he had said it, but those three little words paled to communicate the depth of the feeling. 

You shifted again, legs spreading more as your hips rocked. It wasn’t his intention, but he found his long claw tipped finger slipping into your opening. Wet heat encased his finger, drawing it deeper and deeper. 

It had been his intention to only admire you and now he was knuckles deep into your wet cunt. You stroked you from the inside out, listening to the most relaxing song. Under the blankets, his cock twitched, standing hard and firm as it demanded attention. 

He had to shift, sitting up so he could wrap his other hand around his shaft, pumping his fist along his length. Need won out over respect for you as Vox pulled his fingers from his sensitive length.

He pulled the blankets up off your body and slotted himself between your spread legs. You accommodated his positioning easily, though you were clearly still asleep. Vox ran the head of his cock through your slick folds as he folded himself over you. 

He sighed as he sank slowly into you, letting your wet heat swallow him inch by inch. Each roll of his hips was lazy, not seeking anything more than the warmth and comfort of being within the woman he loved. Holding himself over your sleeping form, he watched as your lips parted, breathy moans filling the room lit only by his screen. 

“Fuck,” Vox whispered as he sank into you again, “fuck, I love you.” 

Your leg ran up the outside of his as your eyebrows scrunched together. He could feel you fluttering around his cock as he continued to slowly work into you. Your back arched as his cock ran along that spongy place inside of you that made you gasp his name just like you did now in your sleep. 

“Love you so much, dollface.” Vox whispered as your hand lazily ran up his arm, sleep and wakefulness battling. “Don’t fuckin deserve you. You’re so fuckin good to me. Fuck.” 

Your arms wrapped around his torso as you nuzzled into his chest, coming more and more awake as your orgasm built. He could feel how close you were, core flittering stronger. 

“Welcome home,” you whispered, voice breathy as you blinked sleepy eyes up at the too bright screen of the man you loved. 

Welcome home. That thought had his balls tightening, orgasm sneaking up on him. He was home, he realized. It didn’t matter where he was; he was home when he was buried within you. You were home. 

You came with a soft moan and quivering muscles. The waves of contractions through your core pulled his orgasm from him, seed spiling into your core with more force than his thrusts. His neck struggled to support his heavy screen, letting it fall to rest against your forehead. 

In the morning, he’d be annoyed at the oily smear from your skin, but at the moment it was just another way to be close to you. Reaching down, he held your hip in place as he rolled to the side, taking your body with him. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” he whispered as you nestled into his chest. Your core fluttered with the aftershocks of your orgasm around his softening cock. 

“I love you too,” you whispered into his chest, sleep quickly reclaiming you. 

You may not have agreed to move into the penthouse. You may not indulge in the luxurious life your boyfriend could give you, would give you in a heartbeat. Your apartment was small, with comfortable furniture that was worn down with use, but coming home to it and the woman inside was the best part of Vox’s days. 

[xxknockoutxx]

What the fuck!?

Just you and your boi shiggy.

There you are, asking the LOV for their dirty laundry because you're so kind enough to do it for them. Dabi of course had to be an asshole, having the most clothes and throwing his dirty boxers right at your fucking face and Compress being a sweetheart and reassuring you he could do it himself.

When you went to your last stop; Tomura you kinda hesitated before stepping in.

"Hey, shiggy you got any laun- What the fuck!?"

"Hm? Oh hey, Y/N all my laundry is in that corner or on the floor, tried to make it easy for you."

Then he goes right back to his game, ignoring the stack of 45% of all the LOV's dishes sitting on his desk. The mountains of energy drink cans on his desk. And you know of course the millions of decayed controllers, dirty clothes, and stained sheets on the floor.

"How do you live like this"

"You just get used to it"

"That's-... That's terrible..."

You pick up all of the dirty clothes around his room and notice all the crushed cans and how his bed is just torn apart. Maybe he's stressed, I mean I would be stressed if I had to buy bulk of everything. I mean just imagine having a thumb war with someone and then they just disintegrate-... Nevermind.

You tap on his shoulder and he pauses his game.

"I hate seeing you live like this, it's dirty and you deserve better"

"No, I don't"

You gave him the deepest and darkest glare that you could even muster up.

"You mad at me because I'm right?

"Tomura..."

"Sorry, why are you doing laundry anyway?" He shifted his eyes back to his paused screen.

"Because I had a shitty day and I need something to distract me."

"So you're doing laundry?"

"Shut u-"

KNOCK KNOCK

Tomura turned his head to his window and looked at you as you approached the window. He watched you with great precision, close enough to see the frown on your face reveal itself extremely quickly as you opened the window.

"Ugh it's you, give me my damn package"

"Ohhh come on don't be like that y/nnniee"

If your face didn't get his attention that sure did. He leaned in closer and listened some more. The only reason this prick isn't dusted is because you just had a talk with him about controlling his 'destructive urges'

"I'm not into you and neither is my boyfriend"

"I don't see him" He gave you that same sicking wink.

You almost rubbed your eyes out of confusion when you blinked and he was gone, turns out your boyfriend pulled him through the window by his hair.

"Now you see him, and now you don't"

And just like that, Poof! Gone, now you have blood and dust on his already dirty floors. But instead of getting angry you just looked at him with a thankful and approving smile.

"Thanks babe, now let's clean this room up and then you can play your game"

"Ughhhhh..."

"Cuddles!"

"Big spoon?"

"Yup"

He immediately slips on his gloves and wraps him arms around your waist

"Let's clean this room up."

⏤͟͟͞͞✰𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱

𝐀/𝐧: I made this because my other fic is taking too long to write. So mb about disappearing.

[arabe11as]

Coming Down.

warnings: smut, MDNI, drunk alex, female reader x

coming down by the weeknd x why’d you only call me when your high?

Around midnight, Alex’s texts trailed off—he mentioned he was heading to a bar just a few streets away, and you figured that was the last you’d hear from him for the night.

By 3 a.m., you were finally starting to wind down, your eyes heavy as you sank into bed. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, your phone lit up, vibrating non-stop. One text after another from Alex flooded your screen, pulling you back from the brink of sleep.

hi

are you awake?

i know it’s late i’m sorry

can i come over?

y/n?

Before you could even register what his messages were saying, your phone started to ring. Alex’s name flashed on the screen, and you groaned out loud, swiping to answer.

“What, Alex?” you asked, rubbing your temple.

“Hi,” he slurred. Of course, he was drunk.

“What do you want?” you asked, already tired of this conversation.

“You,” he replied, his voice thick with alcohol.

“Oh, Jesus.” You sighed, trying to push the irritation out of your tone. “Alex, it’s 3 a.m. Go home.”

“But I’m all alone, Y/N. Can I come over?” he asked, the desperation clear.

You already knew where this was going. Alex gets drunk, shows up, you hook up, and then he’s gone by morning. It was a stupid routine, one you weren’t in the mood for tonight. You knew he didn’t want anything real with you, but that didn’t stop you from feeling something for him, and that just made it worse.

“Alex, I’m not really in the mood,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Okay, okay, we can—we can just talk?” he offered, slurring even more now.

“Where are you?” you asked, feeling a knot of suspicion forming in your stomach.

“Outside your house,” he said casually.

“What??” You shot up from bed, heart racing, and before you could process it, the doorbell rang. You groaned, louder this time.

“Y/N!” Alex’s voice echoed through the letterbox.

“God, no,” you muttered under your breath, rushing downstairs. You prayed your neighbors wouldn’t wake up as you threw on something decent, bracing yourself for whatever drunken mess awaited at the door.

You opened the door, and there he was, leaning on the frame in his leather jacket, a sloppy grin on his face. “Hello, lovely,” he slurred, grinning like he hadn’t just woken you up at 3 a.m.

You rolled your eyes. “May I come in?” he asked, swaying a bit.

“What did I say on the phone, Al?” you reminded him.

“You said no,” he pouted, his lip sticking out like a kid who didn’t get his way.

“And what does that mean?” you teased, pretending like he didn’t understand.

“It means let me in,” he whined, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed, rolling your eyes again. As much as you didn’t want to, you stepped aside and let him in. He stood by the door, smiling at you, the strong smell of whiskey and cigarettes filling the room.

“How many have you had?” you asked, half laughing, half annoyed.

“Enough,” he grinned, trying to sound smooth.

He leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him, gently holding his face. “I mean what I said, Alex,” you whispered, kissing his cheek instead before walking away. He stayed by the door, looking lost as you left the room.

You headed into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water while he collapsed onto the sofa in the living room. When you came back, you nudged his foot with yours. “Move,” you smiled, seeing him stretched out, taking up the whole couch. He sat up, and you handed him the water before sitting next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“I wish you wouldn’t slick your hair back like that,” you teased, tucking a loose strand behind his ear that had fallen over his face.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“Whatever,” you smiled back, shaking your head acting like he didn’t just make your stomach flutter.

He set the water down, looking over at you. “Are you really not in the mood?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“No, sorry, Al,” you said, giving him a fake smile.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I’m only here when… you know…” he trailed off, avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah,” you sighed, understanding what he meant. It was always like this.

“This is the only thing you’ll do with me,” he mumbled, the words slurring a bit, his face clouded with something sadder.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Sex. It’s the only thing you wanna do with me,” he frowned, his eyes downcast, like he’d been holding that in for a while.

“Who the fuck said that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“No one! Me,” Alex said quickly, placing a hand on your leg, like he needed some excuse to touch you. “I just feel like you only want me when I’m… under the influence.”

“Why do you think that?” you asked, trying to make sense of where this was coming from.

“You never call or text me after we do anything…” he muttered, looking down like it was some shameful secret.

“Yeah, because I think you only want me when you’re drunk or high,” you admitted, feeling a knot form in your chest as you said it out loud.

“I don’t!” he blurted, stumbling over his words. “I wanna—fuck, I’m sorry. I wanna see you all the time. I just thought you only wanted me when I was drunk or high.” He looked at you, a bit more sober in his eyes now, like he’d been carrying that thought around for a while.

“I’m sorry I come off like that. I don’t mean to,” he admitted, staring into your eyes with those big, soft brown eyes of his.

“I hate it when you leave in the morning,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than you intended to.

“I know, love. I’m sorry. I wanna stay, I really do,” he whispered back, his face inching closer, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

“Then stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“For as long as I like?” he asked, his lips hovering near yours.

“How long’s that?” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Forever? If you’ll have me,” he said with a smile that made your heart skip.

“I’ll have you,” you smiled back, finally leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the kiss soft but full of all the words neither of you had been able to say.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you could taste the whiskey on him. "I'm sorry you said you weren't in the mood," he murmured, pulling away carefully, not wanting to push you.

You momentarily forgot you'd said that, realizing you'd kind of lied to yourself. You straddled his lap, feeling bold. "You have an effect, Alex..." you whispered, pushing off his leather jacket, leaving him in a dark T-shirt that complemented him VERY well.

He smiled and stood up from the sofa, your legs wrapped around his waist. He almost lost his balance, making both of you laugh. "You're so pissed," you giggled, enjoying the moment.

"Shut up, you twat," he laughed, leaning in to kiss you again as he carried you toward your bedroom.

He gently placed you onto the bed, keeping the kiss going. But as you pulled away, a wave of worry hit you—was this just him talking nonsense because he was drunk?

He noticed the concern etched on your face and cupped your cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he saw your worried look grow stronger.

“Hey, Y/N… are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. “Talk to me, love,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently.

“You’re drunk,” you said softly.

“I’m not drunk now,” he replied, his gaze steady. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Y/N. I promise.” He pressed his lips to yours again, his voice sincere. “I promise. We don’t have to do anything.” He said it softly, reassuringly, and you felt a little of the tension ease away.

"No, I want to. Please," you whispered, laying back with him settling between your legs.

"Please, Al," you practically begged, pulling off his T-shirt, your heart racing.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low.

"You. Make me yours, please, Alex," you moaned, the urgency in your voice clear.

He slid down your panties and unbuckled his belt, slipping inside you, making you gasp at the sensation.

"Al-" you began, but his lips cut you off as they crashed against yours.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, the sound deep and primal. "You're such a good girl," he whispered in your ear, knowing how much you loved it when he said that.

He lifted your wrists above your head, pinning them gently but firmly against the bed.

"Alex," you moaned, lost in the moment.

"I love hearing you moan my name," he said, kissing your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin

Your body responded instinctively, arching up into him as a soft moan escaped your lips.

He groaned in response, his grip on your wrists tightening as he increased his pace, driving into you with more urgency. The world around you began to blur.

"is this okay?" he murmured, concern lacing his voice despite the primal hunger in his eyes.

You couldn't answer, couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. All you could do was feel, and what you felt was pure bliss.

His rhythm was relentless, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, making you gasp beneath him.

"Am I fucking you that good you can't speak? Hmm?" he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

His arrogance pushed you over the edge, a surge of annoyance mixing with the pleasure flooding your system. "Shut up, you prick," you groaned, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as your voice came out breathy and weak.

"There she is," he whispered, a satisfied smile curving his lips. He picked up the pace even more, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, until you could barely keep up.

He released your wrists, his hands moving down to grip your waist, pulling you closer as he thrust harder. Your fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tugging on it, lost in the heat of the moment.

With little effort, he lifted one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, changing the angle just enough to send you spiraling out of control.

Your nails dug into his back, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you bit down hard into his shoulder but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. If anything, he only went harder leaving you gasping and moaning, your whole body vibrating with need.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan that escapes as he moves with a rough, almost punishing rhythm.

Your hand flies to your mouth, stifling the sounds. "Fuck, fuck, Alex, I can't-" you gasp, every word stumbling out between thrusts, each one more intense than the last.

"You can, love," he growls low in your ear, his voice rough, full of heat, as he pushes your hand away.

"I want to hear those pretty sounds." His grip tightens around your waist as he slams into you with an unrelenting force, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck," you groan, louder this time, no longer able to hold back. He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send your mind spiraling.

"That's it, love," he murmurs, voice dark and filled with need. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Your body tenses, his words pushing you over.

"Alex—" you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, trembling

With a strangled cry, you shattered, your climax ripping through you with force, as your body clenched tightly around him, milking him for every last drop of sensation.

His own release followed swiftly, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he came, his muscles tensing and then relaxing as he spilled himself inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply reveling in the afterglow of your shared climax.

Then, slowly, he withdrew, collapsing beside you on the bed. You turned your head to look at him, your breath still coming in ragged gasps, and found him watching you with an expression that was equal parts smug and contented.

“I think you get better each time,” you laughed, still feeling the aftershocks of what just happened.

“And you said you ‘weren’t in the mood,’” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

“Shut up, I was mad at you,” you shot back, unable to hide your smile.

“So mad, clearly,” he laughed, nudging you playfully.

You lay beside him, chest rising and falling as you close your eyes and take a slow, deep breath. The room is still, just the sound of your breathing filling the space.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, voice softer now, a hint of concern laced with his usual confidence.

You shake your head, turning toward him with a lazy smile. “No, Al. You were amazing. You always are.”

He smiles back, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

He practically forced you to get up and go to the bathroom, even though all you wanted to do was sleep. Afterward, you returned and fell into his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping you. You closed your eyes, feeling safe and content, and soon drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to the unfortunate reality of an empty space next to you. Your heart sank, and you knew it. You knew he was full of shit.

As you stared at the empty spot beside you, the door to your bedroom opened, and Alex walked in, holding a cup of tea.

"Good morning, love," he smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You stared at him, dumbfounded. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You didn't say anything; instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I thought you left," you whispered.

"I told you-no, I promised you I wouldn't. I don't plan on it either," he replied, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, but then you caught a whiff of something... eggs? Bacon?

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you cooking?" you asked, smirking.

"Yes... is that okay?" he wondered, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes! That's fine! I didn't know you could cook!" you laughed, genuinely impressed.

"I've had enough of you already. Of course i can cook," he joked, laughing along with you.

"A man of many talents," you smiled.

"Making you cum is number one," he joked, and you playfully slapped his arm.

"shut up!" you exclaimed, both embarrassed and amused.

a/n: meow…

chat feel free to send me your thoughts I DONT LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER XX

[fridgrave2-0]

me: I hate turbo he is just a freak and a loser and a jerk and-

my brain: and he's "gasoline by halsey" kinnie

me: and he's "gasoline-" NOOOOOO

[magicicephoenix]

Maybe Audrey with #50 Gasoline palette for requests?

"You can't wake up, this is not a dream

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being"🎶

(was thinking about Halsey lyrics sorry)

no no no thank you for reminding me that the names of the palettes are songs because i looped gasoline while drawing this and. it sure had an effect! :)

audrey with #50 - gasoline

[x-ladydisdain-x]

really returning to my roots (middle school) here but Halsey was so real for writing this

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[t0rturedp0etry]

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.