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cuteandhughesy · 2 months ago

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Under The Mistletoe | John Marino

summary: john can't help but keep his hands off you, resulting in a very scandalous christmas party sneak off.

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a/n: welcome to the 3rd fic of cute and hughesy’s christmas special! this was so fun to write and i’m so excited for you all to read it - let the john girlies feast 🥰 thank you to this request - you are my inspo ✨🎄

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there was something in the air tonight - something besides the warm, comforting smell and sounds of the christmas season. it was a lingering feeling, laced with sultry and sweet undertones, and it was all due to your boyfriend john marino.

you and john met the literal day he'd first come to new jersey following his departure from the penguins. the day started like any normal one for you, which consisted of waking up late and rushing around your tiny apartment to make it to work. you had been not long out of college - graduated with a sports journalism degree- and had landed a job working behind the scenes with the devils administration team.

like every other time you'd get into work, busy with finishing the previous days work on your phone and not paying attention to your surroundings, ran into john - knocking your phone right out of your hand and almost knocking you onto your ass. but like the gentleman you've learned your boyfriend is, he saved you from the embarrassment of falling and grabbed ahold of your arm to prevent the tumble. and like the complete romantic you are, you blushed and instantly developed a crush on the new member of the new jersey devils.

it didn't take long for you and john to start dating - I mean, neither of you were shy about your feelings or intentions with one another. you wanted to date him and he certainly wanted to date you - case closed. your relationship blossomed quickly, and you found yourselves completely and sickly enamoured with one another. your personalities perfectly complemented one another, and so did your values and priorities. it was perfect - is perfect.

you'd quickly fallen into one another's routines and traditions- forming one big and complete circle that you wouldn't trade in for the world. you knew john was your person, so when the trade to utah came, there was no other choice than to go with him.

leaving your parents and friends back in jersey was hard, especially around the holidays, but with john and his sweet and reassuring smile at your side, you've been able to properly prepare yourself for that missing piece of holiday magic you’d left back home.

one of your favourite christmas traditions of hosting a christmas party was something else you'd been upset about missing, and you had been frowning about it since the calendar changed to december 1st. but, in some miraculous fashion, john said the guys on the team were wondering if you and him wanted to host the utah party - and obviously you jumped off the couch and shrieked a yes.

which brings you back to the cinnamon scented kitchen of your and johns utah apartment, adding the finishing cheeses, meats, nuts, crackers and other miscellaneous foods to your wooden santa shaped charcuterie board.

you pull away once you perfectly placed the last green olive, perfectly shaping the olives into a holiday wreath pattern in the middle of the board, and you smile and hum triumphantly.

the house is filled with only the sound of the hum of a new megan moroney christmas song, mixed into your holiday party playlist. nobody has showed their faces yet, but you weren't expecting them until 7 - so that makes sense.

your wipe your hands against one another, saved from rather wiping the crumbs off on your curve hugging trousers. you've paired the black pants with a festive shade top, accompanied with your favourite gold jewelry and snowman socks - because comfort mattered. your smile doesn't falter as you glance at the digital clock on the front of your microwave and- oh shit, it's almost 7.

you feel yourself start to bubble with a hosting panic, frantically double checking all your picky food trays to ensure they looked presentable, and making sure respective drinks were in the fridge - including your white wine that you, as well as marissa kerfoot, preferred chilled.

just then, the sound of johns socked feet pad into the entryway of your shared kitchen. the floor creaks right where you pass into the living room, and the loud noise has you jumping slightly - your anxious adrenaline off the roof.

"looks great babe." johns voice is a soothing hum as he leans against the archway, his gaze overlooking the array of food on your long dining room table.

you pick up the last tray you'd been working on and shuffle over towards the table, placing the santa board in the middle of everything. you knaw your lip anxiously, and look over towards your boyfriend with questioning eyes. "are you sure? not too much?"

john analyzes you quickly and subtly - so much so that you're not even aware that he's assessing your body language. without saying anything yet, john walks over to you with practiced ease, and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you up against his chest gently.

you allow your boyfriend to move you easily, enjoying the domestic peace that always comes with johns presence. your anxiety about wanting to host the perfect holiday party for johns teammates and their significant others subsides as he starts to stroke along your spine with his thumb, and his easy smile comes as beautiful distraction.

"don't stress," john breathes, continuing his rhythmic movements against your back. "everybody is going to be so impressed with your gouda display."

you're still not convinced, and your eyes fall back towards the table as you check over everything for the hundredth time - your boyfriends joke going right over your head. john sighs gently, because he knows once you get into your own head, it can be hard to get you back out.

he leans down and presses a firm kiss to the junction of your neck. johns lips are warm and soft, and the feeling has your eyes fluttering closed with pleasure. he moves farther up your neck, continuing to kiss and gently suck along your scented skin - your vanilla perfume setting comfortably in johns senses.

to further his attempt at what seemingly feels like trying to distract you, johns hands snake down your lower back, passing over the round of your ass before taking a handful of flesh, squeezing you with his long fingers.

which brings you back to the lingering tension through your apartment - the desire and poised touches from john all coming back to you.

john has been very handsy with you all day. which isn't necessarily odd for him, because your boyfriend has always been flirty and touchy with you - but today specifically was amped up to another level. it started in the morning while you were both brushing your teeth and john couldn't help but grind his morning wood into your backside. it continued throughout the morning and into the afternoon, with john always touching you with his hands and/or mouth - your neck, your waist, your thighs, you ass, your tits - anything john could get his grip on, he would.

"think we can fuck quick before people start arriving?" johns words are rushed and muffled against your jawbone in between sloppy kisses. his breathy question has you blushing a deep red, matching the shade of your shirt.

a knock on the door echoes throughout the apartment, followed by the roudy laughter of some of johns teammates - you can even hear the muffled voice of clayton keller telling them all to behave.

you pull away from john. "don't think so."

—

johns wandering hands continued throughout the night, even with an apartment filled with your new friends and teammates - he didn't care and their possible wandering eyes didn't stop john from touching all up on you. anytime you'd step away to prep more food in the kitchen, or make sure everything was still somewhat neat and in an organized manner on the dining table, your boyfriend wasn't far behind you.

as you're crumbling more feta for another bowl of greek salad (a house favourite), john pressed into you from behind, his arms enclosing around your torso as he suckles and nibbles below your jaw.

"you smell so good." john says against your skin, lips tickling along the shell of your ear. you giggle at the feeling, slipping out of his grasp and opening the refrigerator.

"johnny..." you warn him gently, hands enclosing on the head of iceberg lettuce and bringing it out of the fridge. you close the door with your hip before making your way back to john - who is still lingering by your cutting board and empty salad bowl. "you can't do that right now."

it seemed that anytime you'd pass through the archway that separates the hallway from the living space of your apartment - constantly checking everything is neat and organized around your home - john would be there, constantly reminding you that the archway was decorated in a beautiful garland with a dangling display of mistletoe.

john, completely unbothered by his teammates and their wives and girlfriends all around you, wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you from escaping. he waggles his eyebrows down at you, smiling sneakily. "looks like we are under the mistletoe."

you give him a deadpan look. you can't tell if you're annoyed or amused by his constant attempt's at kissing you - but with the faux innocent look on his face combined with his rosy cheeks and glimmering gaze, you're sure it's the latter.

you sigh gently, but pucker your lips at him. it's a silent invitation for your boyfriend, and the sight has his grin deepening. john leans down, connecting your lips in a seemingly innocent peck.

but, you're wrong. john's hand slides up towards your face, grabbing ahold of your warm cheek to keep you in place. his tongue slides along your plump lip, asking for entrance and attempting to deepen the kiss.

someone who sounds like liam o'brien cat calls you from a few feet away, which starts a chain affect in which the rest of johns teammates start hollering at you both. you laugh against johns kiss - which he still hasn't attempted to stop, and gently push off his chest, but not without a playful smack against his peck first, serving as a scold.

you would even catch john watching you from across the room anytime he wasn't attempting to cop a feel. his eyes were darker than usual, and you could see that even with the distance between you - practically undressing you with his eyes while jack mcbain talks about his new dog.

you flick your hand in his direction, a dismissive motion as if you're telling john to stop and pay attention. it has your boyfriends smirk growing, hiding it behind the rim of his can.

you flush deeply, all too familiar with the sultry gaze in johns eyes. you clear your throat, taking a sip of your white wine as you turn your attention back towards some of the ladies, easily sliding back into the conversation about countertops and cabinet colours.

it's not 20 minutes later that your phone alerts you that it's on low battery, and without wanting to risk forgetting to plug it in before falling asleep, you go to plug it in.

you excuse yourself from the group conversation in your kitchen, hovering over the sandwich platter, and slip down the hall - quickly ascending up the small set of stairs that leads to the upstairs hallway. one of the main reasons you and john chose this apartment specifically was because of the size and layout of the place, and you loved how it felt like a mini home rather than a bachelor pad style apartment.

you softly close the door, but don't properly latch it, leaving a small gap of light between the mahogany wood and the matching door frame. you pad towards your side of the bed where the charging cable is dangling over your beside table, and plug the end into your dangerously low phone.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the noise has you jumping in surprise, spinning on your heels quickly to find the source of the sound. you should've known immediately who would've followed you upstairs, the sight of johns seductive, but still boyish grin looking back at you.

with a hand held to your beating chest, you exhale - the sound a mixture of adrenaline and laughter. "jesus, babe. you scared me."

"sorry." he chuckles. the sound of the lock turning is a very faint click in your ears, and immediately you know what he's up to. john moves towards you, his sneaky grin still tugging at his lips, and gently takes your palms in his.

john guides you towards the bed, and once the pit of his knees hit the edge of the plush mattress, he sits down. you stay standing, just watching your boyfriend with an unimpressed quirk to your eyebrow. john's legs spread, and he's immediately pulling you into him further, keeping you close. his fingers trail off your palms and slowly find their way up your legs and hips, settling over the waistband of your pants.

john gently squeezes your torso, right against the seam of the pants, and tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes wonder over your body, drinking in every curve, bump, amd fleshy round. "fuck." he breathes the curse, his hands slipping around until he can grab onto your ass, squeezing it firmly. "you look so sexy today."

you squint at him accusingly, "we can't start john - people are here."

johns brows come together tightly. "screw my teammates - I wanna fuck my girl." his words send your stomach into a whirlwind of cartwheels and somersaults, making you feel warm and fuzzy. you flush a deep maroon, and you find yourself mirroring john, taking your lip between your teeth and gently nibbling.

to accentuate his words, john's then lifting the hem of your top up, exposing your belly and the bottom of your wired bra. he leans in and begins to kiss along the expanse of your skin, delicately marking and tickling your sensitive tummy.

you breathe a pleasant hum, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of your boyfriends mouth on you without the constant worry and fear of feeling exposed or getting caught. behind your locked door, it's just you and john with no prying eyes or ears. your hands slide up your boyfriends biceps and up around his shoulders, gripping the strong muscles to keep your knees from buckling.

john's mouth detaches from your stomach, and he rest his chin gently between your boobs, looking up at you with a hopeful and mischievous glint in his eyes. with his thumbs stroking your rib cage, occasionally teasing you by slipping them underneath the wire of your bra and grazing your tits, john quirks his eyebrow in question. "please sweet girl, I can't go another second without sinking into your pussy."

you shutter pleasantly at his words, letting yourself feel the butterflies all over your body flutter around - sending tingles and small shock waves through your system. quickly, your eyes bounce back towards the locked door - making sure nobody was looking for you or john or lingering in the hallway.

nobody is there.

with a reluctant nod, you whisper okay. "we have to be quick though."

johns grin widens. "oh trust me, i've been half hard since you walked out of the closet in these pants - I can't wait to take them off." with his words, john grabs the back of your thighs, pulling you onto the bed. your knees rest against each side of his muscular thighs, effectively straddling him.

the pull in your inner thighs is a slight burning sensation, but it's also so so good. your clothed pussy nestles perfectly on johns hard on, and instinctively you begin to grind against him, your body already searching for that release. john groans, pulling your face back in for a kiss. it's a heated exchange, with a mixture of careless spit and teeth, your lips moving together frantically and knowingly. it's messy and hot - perfectly crafted to further turn you both on.

johns fully hard underneath his jeans, providing the perfect stimulation to your throbbing clit and sticky entrance. you can already feel the wetness pooling in your thin underwear, and so can john, your pants doing nothing at hiding the damp mess leaking through the fabric and transferring to his jeans.

without wanting to wait any longer, john's grasp on your body tightens as he prepares to move you both, flipping you over and onto you back. you squeak at the sudden movement, your lips disconnecting for your boyfriends as you push yourself further up the bed.

john is soon back over you, hovering on top of you heavily. the press is intoxicating, and makes the thrill of the whole thing so much more intense. "I wanna taste you."

you shake your head, breathy as you remind him, "no - we have to be fast."

"I don't care." with that, he tugs your pants down with practiced ease, revealing your bare legs and soaked underwear. john throws your pants behind him, landing somewhere on your bedroom floor - you're sure you'll probably struggle to find them after. "need to taste you."

your thighs part automatically, already anticipating the upcoming actions that your boyfriend is about to perform on your body. john smirks as he settles onto his belly between your legs, and his hands immediately wrap around the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread.

over your wet underwear, john leans down and presses a lingering kiss on your clothed clit. you watch him breathlessly, and your hips buck upwards in search of more friction.

he smirks quickly before going back in, licking a flat strip against the sheer material of your tiny panties, his tongue dragging from your dripping entrance and back up to your swollen clit.

"fuck, johnny please." you whine, fingers carding through his curly hair. you tug his roots as john's tongue swirls over your clit, the combination of your underwear and his tongue providing a rather powerful amount of stimulation.

john let's go of one of your legs in favour of reaching for the seam of your underwear, roughly tugging the string to the side and exposing your glistening pussy fully. your boyfriend audibly groans at the sight of your slick folds and the aroma of your arousal, and he quickly dives back in, his tongue dipping into your entrance to collect your wetness before he firmly licks back upwards to your tingling bundle of nerves.

you borderline scream, and your head falls back into the fluffy pillows as you're no longer able to watch as john eats you out - feeling too fragile to keep yourself up right. he's always been so good at pleasing you with his mouth - knowing the perfect combination of licking, sucking, and teeth that never fails to bring you to the finish line.

against you, john moans and the sound vibrates through you deliciously. when he adds two of his calloused, skillful fingers into the mix, sliding them with ease into your dripping entrance, you just about pass out. you cover your mouth with a shaky hand, muffling the sounds of your mewls - eyes downcast to once again watch john pleasure you.

his eyes flicker up your body, finding your gaze. your pure flushed and blissed expression has him even more turned on, subtly grinding his aching cock into your shared mattress as he continues to hold your thighs open, lapping up your juices and plunging his digits into your hole.

john release your clit with a gentle pop, a thin string of spit mixed with your arousal trailing between his puffy mouth and your pussy. it's all so erotic and sneaky, and the sight has you approaching very quickly to your boiling point. "you 'gunna cum for me sweet girl? can feel you flutterin' around my fingers baby - fuck."

you nod once, "yes - oh my god keep doing that."

john doesn't need to be told twice, and he goes back down on you, suckling on your clit - swirling his tongue and moving it over and around your bundle just the way you need him to. it's not long before you're snapping, clenching down on johns fingers as you cum, dripping onto the bedding as you release rushes out of you.

he hums in satisfaction against you, beginning to slow his stimulation on your throbbing pussy - helping you ride out your high with sweet and comforting movements and kisses against you.

finally, you feel yourself come back to reality, breathing heavily in the quietness of your shared bedroom - nothing but the wet noise of john slipping his fingers out of your heat and the muffled conversation of the party floating up the stairs. "fuck."

john crawls back up your body, his boyish grin pulling at his lips, still glistening with your release. "good?" he questions cockily, one of his brows quirked a knowing raise.

you grin lightly, cheeks flushed. "you know it was."

he licks his bottom lip gently, because he knows he's being cocky - but john also knows that you love it. he leans down, attaching your lips in another hot and bruising kiss. you can taste yourself lingering on his tongue - that slightly sweet but almost salty flavour that john loves so much invading your tastebuds.

you pull away with a smirk. "I wanna ride you. i'm aching for it johnny."

he quirks a brow. "look who's aching now?"

"shut up." you laugh through your scold, gently shoving johns shoulders so he gets off you. contradictory to his words, you can feel his rock hard cock bobbing against your inner thigh, a reminder that he hasn't yet gotten off.

you direct john to slouch back against the padded headboard of your bed, and as he does you pull off your shirt, exposing you completely to john in your empty bedroom. the change of temperature has your nipples hardening further, and it sends signals right down to your pussy. you crawl over to your boyfriend, positioning your knees between his thick thighs as your lean forward on your hands.

you gently suck under his ear - a spot that always has him falling apart. like predicted, he lets out a deep groan, eyes fluttering closed as the sensation runs through his body. you pull back, you lift off his shirt. "gunna sick your dick, 'kay?"

his brows raise in surprise, face blushed as he smirks at your words. "be my guest." john helps you with removing his jeans, pulling them down his muscular thighs until they pool under his knee caps. you're too eager to take them off completely, and you waste no more time, taking ahold of his oozing dick in your closed fist, guiding the head towards your lips. you gently smack his angry red tip against your puffy lips, to which he grunts. "such a tease."

you swirl your tongue around the beating tip a few times, before licking a flat strip over his dripping slit, collecting and tasting the dribble of salty pre-cum. john moans once more, watching through lidded eyes as you take his tip fully into your mouth. it's a sight he'll never get tired of, and he can't help but collecting your hair for you, keeping the curled strands out of your face - for your benefit and his.

slowly, you take his full length into your warm mouth, hallowing out your cheeks to elevate the sucking motion over johns dick. you begin to bob your head, continuing to take his full amount into your mouth as you do. you take breaks from the up and down motion every now and then, switching up the stimulation as you slip him out of your mouth and lick the underside of his dick - tracing veins and further teasing him.

"i'm - fuck - i'm close. need to cum inside you." john gently tugs the base of your roots, pulling you away from his throbbing dick. using his thumb, he wipes the lines of spit from your face, cleaning the mess from your lips and chin. you grin at his sweet action - even if everything else about the situation is dirty.

john mimics your smile. "come up here."

you do has he says, assuming your earlier position of straddling johns spread legs, your knees sinking into the soft mattress beneath you. your core bumps against the still leaking tip of johns dick - standing high and hard, brushing his lower abdomen as he moves. immediately you let your glistening lips slide over his cock, further slicking him up with a mixture of your lingering saliva and arousal.

johns perfectly sized dick feels ridiculously good against your throbbing clit, sliding perfectly between your folds as you rock over him. it has you both moaning, breathless as you continue to grind against his dick. "gunna put it in baby?" john breathes teasingly, "or you need me to take control?"

you don't answer him, but instead lift your hips slightly, creating enough space for you to reach between your legs and take ahold of johns hot and heavy cock. you grip him with expertise, guiding his head to prod against your soaking entrance. and with that, you let yourself slide down his length, your grip automatically releasing as you balance your hands on his chest - lowering yourself onto john.

he curses, hands immediately flying to grip the fleshy sides of your hips, ready to help guide you through your ride. "you're so fucking hot."

"mhmmm - yeah?" your clit presses against johns pubic bone, an added stimulant that already has you feeling worked up and spent. you take your lip into your mouth, biting on the puffy flesh to keep ahold of your grunts.

you begin to move, slowly at first to build up your pace. it's hard to keep a steady pace though when johns dick perfectly hits all your sweet spots - pulling you closer to the edge. "oh god," you mewl, letting your head roll back, "feel so fucking good."

john smirks up at you, clearly pleased with your breathless statement. you look so good, your bare breasts swaying as you grind yourself on his hard cock. your hair is sex messy, giving you that wild and beautiful look he loves so much - your skin glistening with a combination of a sheen of sweat and the shimmery body lotion you'd applied after your shower. john can feel your juices soaking his lower half, matting down his littering of pubic hair to his skin - you're making a mess on him and yourself.

"yeah baby," john encourages, his eyes dancing between your blissful expression and where your bodies are rapidly connecting. "you're doing so good - my good girl." his grip on your hips tighten, guiding you up and down on his cock - switching and helping your momentum.

"shit johnny, i'm gunna cum again." you all but whine, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure intensifies, warming your belly amd increasing your heart rate. the way john is practically moving you by himself, combined with the movement of his dick sliding in and out of you and your clit smacking against his pelvis has you approaching your second climax.

john doesn't slow down, and if anything he increases the movements. he pulls you closer to him so that your breasts are pushed against his strong, bare chest - stomach's touching. all without stopping the guiding force that has you riding him, john kisses you. "cum on my cock baby."

his whispered and breathless words on your lips are the final push you need, and you release over his throbbing length. you let out a pornographic scream, head falling to johns shoulder as the pleasure completely overtakes your body.

john wraps his arms around your torso and flips you both over, and he's once again hovering over your flushed body. the movement has his dick slipping out of you, and the loss of that full feeling has you whining. "you did so good sweet girl. you gunna give me another one?"

you're too overwhelmed to speak - still dealing with the aftermath of your last orgasm, and processing johns request. you're still so turned on that it's not even funny. all you can muster is a moan and a quick nod and john immediately smirks, leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your sweaty hairline.

you breath a smile at the gesture - but as john begins to manhandle your legs, spreading you once again, your smile is taken over by a gentle groan. he pushes your legs towards your chest, and on instinct you grab ahold of the back of your thighs, keeping them in place.

not a second later john is guiding his dick back into your heat, pushing into you fully. it feels like he's splitting you in two with the way he slips into your spent pussy, nestling into your tight and spasming walls deliciously. "shit baby you take my cock so well - you feel what you're doing to me?" john breathes, eyes tranced on the sight of your pussy sucking him in.

his hands push against the back of your thighs, and the shift on your legs allows him to push his length either deeper. you moan, your walls clamping down on john automatically.

john squeezes your thighs between his fingers, beginning to pick up his pace - diving his perfect cock in and out of your slippery entrance. he hits all your sweet spots once again, perfectly moving his length into your weeping pussy. still built up from your last orgasm, your walls begin to flutter around his thrusting member once again, the coil in your stomach ready to snap for the third time.

your boyfriend smirks knowingly at the feeling of your clamping walls, and he looks down at you cockily. "knew you could do it - c'mon sweet girl." john's thumb slips up your folds, landing on your puffy clit and he circles the bundle of nerves tightly.

"yes yes yes yes - don't stop." you plead, desperately close to falling over the edge.

"i'm going to cum." john tells you through a groan, picking up his pace rutting into your heat. with one more pass over your sensitive clit, you cum with a exhausted whine, eyes fluttering closed as stars begin to dance in your vision. "good girl." john praises.

your arousal leaks out of your fucked hole, dripping and trailing down your ass, pooling on the bread spread. john shutters in pleasure at the sight, and with four more sporadic thrusts into you, he cums - hot ropes of his seed shooting into your entrance, coating your walls.

he pushes into you one last time, letting his entire release into you and making sure it doesn't escape. john groans in satisfaction, eyes closing as he basks in the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock. "holy fuck."

you nod, still catching your breath. without a verbal response from you, john grows concerned, looking towards you with pulled eyebrows. "you okay?"

a smile tugs at your lips, and you nod again. "yeah."

"good," he smiles, "you did so good."

you flush even deeper at his praise - never failing to get flustered from a compliment that comes from your smoking hot boyfriend. john's smirk deepens at the sight of you, and he quickly presses a kiss to your ankle before helping you lower you legs back down.

at that time, john slowly slips out of your pussy, and you both hiss at the loss of the contact. you begin to feel johns seed migrating down your walls, ready to spill from your entrance. "I gotta get up before your cum coats our bedding."

"let it," john kisses your neck once, a firm but yet somehow soft press that has you tingling all the way down to your toes. "you already made a mess - we gotta wash the blanket anyways."

just then, somebody laughs downstairs and the sound of a group of your boyfriends teammates doing a karaoke cover to a justin bieber christmas song is all you can hear. "yeah and we also have a party to get back to."

you watch the recognition flash on johns face as he recounts how your shared apartment is currently filled with his hockey team and their significant others - some of which are probably beginning to wonder where the two of you have gone. "oh yeah."

you laugh, "oh yeah."

you both get dressed again, after you make sure to deal with your business in the en suite. you speed through getting your clothes back on, making sure you both look presentable before heading back to your party. you make john leave before you, claiming you don't want to look suspicious walking down the stairs together - that would definitely give away what the two of you had been up to.

while you wait the few minutes before heading back downstairs, you grab ahold of your phone - now charged and ready to go. the sight of a text from melissa kerfoot lights up your lock screen.

melissa kerfoot

🍆 ????

you blush - so much for secrecy.

227 notes · View notes

petermorwood · 7 months ago

Note

Recent article on NPR about the history of artificial light somewhat frustrated me -- they portrayed all of pre-kerosene history as dark and heinously expensive at all times. Thing is, the writers based their findings solely on tallow candles, & ignored oil lamps, beeswax candles, clever use of refraction & outdoor light including moon/starlight... Also seemed to ignore the ubiquity of hearths / cook fires. Was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about non-tallow light? This isn't to ignore that truly, artificial lighting WAS much more difficult & expensive for much of human history, but acting like tallow candles were the ONLY light source seems very silly! (Plus your other lovely post about bottles of water used to make those candles more efficient via refraction & focus)

I'm betting the article you mean is this one - which refers back to this one.

For matching reference, my own posts about period lighting are here, One and Two, including observations about painting walls white, how to light candles and lamps without matches, and several other matters.

*****

It didn't take too much listening before I got tetchy, because the first half of this podcast seems more about mocking how WEIRD and PRIMITIVE old-time people were, than passing on any useful information.

Despite the presence of Jane Brox (author of "Brilliant: The Evolution of Artificial Light") whale oil only gets touched on in passing, and olive oil isn't mentioned at all.

Instead she starts talking about using oily seabirds (stormy petrels) as "candles", despite this scholarly study concluding that it was something talked about far more than done, besides being so very, very localised that its relevance to the history of lighting is very, very small.

But hey, WEIRD and PRIMITIVE, right?

*****

By contrast, making candles was so commonplace that it was another of those jobs which created surnames. Fletcher once put feathers on arrows, Cooper made barrels, Fisher, Miller, Baker and Farmer are obvious, and Chandler used to make candles.

Lampier, of course, made lamps, which helped keep those naked candle-flames away from anywhere they shouldn't touch. The man on the left is making the lantern bodies, the one on the right is shaving sheets of horn as windows.

It's cheaper than glass, less easily broken yet is translucent enough, when shaved properly thin, to give quite adequate light.

*****

The podcast has a digression about measuring the light output of a reproduction Ancient Babylonian lamp. Here's an original and a repro.

Yet that too says nothing about what fuel the lamp is or should be burning - olive oil, traded all over the Mediterranean by ancient olive-growing cultures.

These are Roman oil-lamps, from simple and cheap to elaborate and costly.

As for beeswax, so far as the podcast is concerned might as well not exist, despite being a by-product of honey, which was THE principal pre-sugar sweetener for centuries when not being made into all that mead whose existence, production and quaffing nobody questions.

Oh yeah, and then there was the amazed discovery (2:40 / 1:25, depending on which you're listening to) that melted beef fat "...smells really nasty, like, ANIMAL nasty,"

Why is this guy surprised? It's part of an animal!

*****

It's the same sort of infotainment ignorance as displayed by this TikTok twit, right up to complaining about the effort involved in preparation of anything because not having powered appliances was so labour-intensive, oh woe. Yes, it was, welcome to any historical period before about 1920. That's where "the daily grind" originates.

However the implication (listen, it's there) that cattle were raised just to provide fat for candles is ludicrous. The fat was a by-product, not a main one, and was often a butcher's side-line, while members of the Chandlers' Guild only worked with superior beeswax.

I don't think you could make candles like these with tallow:

...and you definitely couldn't make one meant to be hand-held.

Picture evidence shows, by their clothing, the class of society who bought these, and tallow-greasy fingers would have been a no-no.

A Chandler didn't make individual candles. By the time that fresh batch is hung up, the first batch away down at the end is cool enough to be dipped again.

A chandler's shop in a medieval city would look very similar, and often had a horizontal wheel on which to hang each batch of candles, rotating them up and around to cool, then back to the dipping pot. Non-modern people may not have had modern tech or time-and-motion studies, but they weren't stupid.

*****

By contrast, the podcast's disparaging attitude of WEIRD and PRIMITIVE is emphasised by what seems a deliberate avoidance of anything which counters it (examples of that in my own posts) and finally at 11.24 / 9:50 came this:

"Even when you get all the way to the 1700s (...) most people are still subsistence farmers, living in some kind of hut, trying to grow enough food not to starve to death (...) and light? Light still comes from finding stuff that's lying around and just lighting it on fire."

Some kind of hut...

Stuff that's lying around...

After making such a declaration, I'm surprised - since they'd been implying it for half the podcast - someone didn't just go ahead and announce that "there's some lovely filth down here..."

That's when I stopped listening.

Enough is enough, and I'd had it.

*****

ETA:

cc: @asmuchasidliketo :->

Here's a photo of what purports to be a Petrel (not petrol, that's something else) Candle, held in the Pitt-Rivers Museum, Oxford. It's mentioned in that scholarly article I linked above.

Just as "one swallow doesn't make a summer", so one - and only one - known example of this, which may have been a fake-up to spoof the Southerners, doesn't prove it was a common or even rare practice.

There's another reason to take this with a big pinch of salt, so maybe Jane Brox was on a low-sodium diet when she wrote her book.

Creatures with a layer of fat or blubber for insulation all have it like any other form of insulation, on the outside, where it does some good. A wick passed through the inside couldn't draw on it for fuel since there's a layer of muscle and another of internal organs for the oil to get through first.

The cropped-off bottle just visible to the left is a far more likely way seabirds became lamp fuel: by rendering out their oil. This oil is from the Northern Fulmar, Fulmaris glaciaris (or glacialis, I've seen both. Same bird regardless).

Incidentally, the Wikipedia article on European Storm Petrel mentions a supernatural connection, that the petrels were the souls of drowned sailors, and killing them is unlucky.

Not just killing them but making them into candles sounds like A Bad Idea, and is yet another reason why, IMO, the candle thing may be a folktale, or a deliberate leg-pull, or...

Let's just say "improbable" and leave it there. :-P

#period lighting #research #writer notes #too light too dark #worldbuilding

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heavenlymorals · 8 months ago

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Since a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, let's drunkinly antagonize the camp members to know what Arthur dislikes the most about them even if he won't usually say it:

- Dutch: How vague and unauthentic he is, how he's always been a good actor, and how rash he could get.

- Hosea: How "boring" he's gotten and how he always seems to be complaining.

- Charles: How "boring" he seems to be.

- Javier: How vain and "effeminate" he seems to be.

- John: How "pathetic" he is.

- Bill: How "dumb" he is.

- Sean: How "shifty" he is and how he overplays himself. Oh, and how lazy he is.

- Lenny: How "cocky" he's getting and how he thinks he "knows more" for his age then he actually does.

- Swanson: How "pathetic" and "useless" he is.

- Strauss: How he isn't "man" enough to deal with his own business and how "weak" he is.

- Uncle: How lazy he is and how he has "wasted" his life.

- Pearson: How much he yaps about the navy and how his cooking is bad.

- Micah: Just him in general. "There he is, God's gift to nobody." If I was Micah, I'd cry.

- Mary Beth: Honestly? Nothing. He doesn't dislike anything about her, he only thinks that she isn't cut out for their life and that it makes her needy.

- Tilly: How "untrustworthy" she could be given her history with her old gang.

- Abigail: How much she "complains and moans" at John and just in general, and her past as a working girl.

- Karen: How much she drinks and how "unladylike" she can get.

- Molly: How lazy and "unstable" she is.

- Grimshaw: How she is always in a "mood" and how she "sucks the joy" out of their lives. (He also makes a comment that's like "if this is how women are when they get old, no wonder Dutch keeps trading for a younger model" Arthur, wtf bro that's not cool😭)

- Sadie: How much she keeps complaining and trying to act all "tough".

- Kieran: How he doesn't stand up for himself and how "nervous and anxious" he is all the time.

And to Arthur? I probably gave him liver failure ☹️ Anyways, yea, I dunno why I did all of that, but here it is now 🤷🏻‍♀️

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actuallysaiyan · 3 months ago

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Stay With Me(Sugar Daddy!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader)

warnings: smut, angst, swearing, heart break, sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, post time skip in MHA, Enji has a prosthetic arm, Enji and Rei are divorced, Touya lives!, power dynamics, unprotected sex, kissing, slight dark themes, abandonment,

word count: 3.2k

pairings: Sugar Daddy!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader

summary: Enji gets the idea to hire a sugar baby, and while he thinks it's a good idea, he didn't think he'd develop feelings for her. instead of trying to work through these new feelings, he pushes her away.

a/n: for my little fic trade with @cherryblossombankai!! I hope you'll enjoy this mess!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi. @cherryblossombankai , @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

It had been his oldest son’s idea. They were all a little worried about him; his children thought about how this would affect his psyche. Rei had been right to leave. It wasn’t about the war, the fighting or even anything else. It was about her own feelings and her own want to pursue something different in life.

This left Enji with a lot of alone time. He enjoyed it at first. He finally felt like he could work on atoning for the hurt and the sins. He could self-reflect and think about how he was going to become a better father, a better hero, a better friend. Of course, he wasn’t doing the pro hero work anymore, but he was wondering how he could use his old image as a way to help out with charities.

And of course, since Touya had recovered from their last encounter, he’s been helping Touya become a member of society. It had been tough at first, considering how much damage he had done to his first born. But slowly, they were able to make amends and even attend therapy together. Touya felt like he could actually be a part of this world and Enji felt like he would be able to help his son through these tough times.

So when Touya came up to him one afternoon with his bright idea, Enji was very curious. Though, he had to admit that he wasn’t expecting it to be this.

“You should find someone to keep you company,” Touya says between bites of his dinner.

“That’s why you live with me, son.” Enji concludes.

Touya laughs, “Nah dad…you need to get laid. Come on, I know you do. It’s the only thing missing in your miserable life.”

This last comment causes Enji to spit out his drink. Did he hear that correctly? It had certainly been some time since he last had sex, but it wasn’t the first thing on his mind. Enji sighs softly before wiping his mouth off with a napkin.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” He finally says to Touya.

Touya shrugs. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is that you could find yourself a little honey. I know of this app that connects you with—”

“I’m not going to fucking download some stupid dating app!”

And with that, dinner was over. Touya had pushed his buttons a bit too much and Enji went to bed miserable that night. He was lonely. He was tired of his bed feeling so damn cold. It was sad and pathetic. Here he was, nearing his mid-fifties and he had nobody to share this life with other than his oldest son who would one day leave the nest.

So the next day, he asked Touya for the app. Touya didn’t say anything more than give him tips on how to set up the profile.

Enji met with a number of young women. It was for a sugar baby, which he didn’t realize at first. But it suited him just fine. All he had to do was give the girl a little spending money and she’d go out on dates with him and fuck him. Truly it was the perfect solution to his loneliness.

A lot of the young women were thrilled to be matched with former pro hero Endeavor. Some of them were disgusted. Then there were some who were just in it for the money. Still, he craved a little connection. Something to let him know he still meant something to someone.

When he met you, he found you so alluring. You were young, sweet and definitely beautiful. You made him laugh, which was a first during all these stupid dates. And he made you laugh, which made his stomach flip every time he heard it. Despite this, things were a bit more rocky than you had anticipated the first few times you two got together.

There were some ground rules you had to follow. After your initial date to get to know one another, Enji laid down the law with you.

“I don’t want you seeing anyone else. Mostly due to a safety thing…” he didn’t want to admit that he’d get jealous if you were to see someone else while seeing him. “If I call you or text you, I expect you to come to me as soon as possible.”

You nodded your head, surprised to hear him be this firm and disciplinary with you after such a fun first date together.

“This is the allotted allowance for now.” He slides over a folded piece of paper. “There are certain things I expect of you, but we don’t have to do the relationship thing.”

This surprised you in some ways. But who were you to judge him? You had initially joined to help pay your college debt. Still, you wanted some sort of companionship. Enji lists off the expectations to you: to keep him satisfied, to join him during special events and hero galas, to go on dates with him from time to time.

“Any money I send to you, I want you to use portions of it to buy yourself cute outfits.” He finally concludes the meeting. He hands you a wad of cash without looking back at you.

You’re beginning to wonder what you got yourself into.

It starts off fairly easy. He asks you to come over a few times, but it only leads to kissing. He doesn’t even really look you in the eyes. It just seems too intimate for him, and he can’t handle the way you look at him. No, he fucking hates the way you look at him like he’s actually worth something. He fucking hates that you treat him like an actual human and not this disgraced man.

You get to know Touya fairly well, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s around your age, which does make things a little weird. But neither him nor Enji make it awkward for you. Touya knows you’re there to help his father transition into a different part of his life.

The first time Enji invites you out on a real date, you feel nervous about it. It’s the first time since your first meeting that you two will be going out. You’re not surprised to find a delivery person at your door an hour later with a huge bouquet of roses and a beautiful dress just for you. The card is signed by Enji.

He charms you in so many ways. He makes you question every single thing. He’s such an enigma, and you know he’s worth cracking the code. Deep down inside, you knew you were starting to fall for the traumatized man.

After the date, he invites you back to his place. And he’s rough with you. He kisses you like he’s never kissed someone in his life. It’s teeth clashing and tongues wrestling for dominance. He bends you over the side of the couch, lifting up the skirt of the dress he bought for you.

“You’ve been a good girl so far,” he growls in your ear as he pumps one of his fingers into you. You gasp at the sudden stretch. “Why don’t you let me show you how a real man makes love?”

The words that you were about to say get stuck in your throat as Enji curls his fingers deep inside of you. Your knees buckle and you’re very happy that he has you bent over the couch because you weren’t going to be able to stand up on your own two feet. You gasp once again when the big man kneels down behind you and begins lapping at your went cunt like it’s his last meal.

You’ve never had anyone push you to the edge quite like Enji does. And when you’re barely recovered from that earth shattering orgasm, he’s pushing into you from behind. It’s a rough pace to begin with, but it slowly gets more passionate. He pulls you to be flush against his chest, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“So beautiful…” he grunts in your ear. “So fucking perfect.”

He makes you cum a few more times before finishing on your ass and back. He doesn’t look you in the eyes when he throws the washcloth in your hands. Then he hands you his credit card, leaving you to get dressed and out of the house all by yourself.

The weeks that follow are even lonelier than before you met Enji. He only sends you money. He doesn’t ask for you to come see him anymore. It’s almost like he’s ashamed of himself and ashamed of what transpired between you two. It breaks your heart to think of him all alone in his bed,

You try to continue on with your life, but you have become quite attached to the older man. You remember the way you made each other laugh during that first meeting. You had butterflies in your tummy every time you thought about that. You know that deep down, Enji Todoroki is quite the charming man who is very much worthy of love.

Still, the days go by and you barely hear from him. You wonder if maybe the arrangement has been called off. You try to reach him, but you get no answer. The money comes in dribs and drabs, but nothing concrete. You finally gain the courage to message Touya.

The news that comes from Touya isn’t surprising, but it does break your heart. Apparently since that night, Enji has been locking himself in his room most days and not coming out. He’s been hiding from the world. The oldest Todoroki son doesn’t know what to make of it, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with you.

“Look, can you just come over and talk to him? He’s just not doing well.”

How could you deny this? You get ready to head out to their place. You don’t know what to expect when you get there, but you’re hoping you can help out. Touya opens the door and he leads you to his father’s bedroom.

Quietly you knock. Your heart is in your throat. The door swings open and there stands the man you’ve developed feelings for. He looks worse for wear. His eyes narrow when he sees you. You’ve never seen him this disheveled before. He’s not even wearing his prosthetic arm.

“What the hell are you doing here? Didn’t you get the message?!” He snaps angrily. “I don’t want you around anymore!”

“B-but you never said that to me! You just stopped talking to me. Dropped me like I was yesterday’s news.”

He scoffs, “Quit the dramatics! You knew what this was. You know what you are to me.”

This breaks your heart. He might as well have hit you. It’s what it feels like. Despite knowing what this started as, you had hopes that maybe it would turn into something more. Maybe you and Enji would fall in love, but it’s not the way it’s going at all. It’s turning into a complete nightmare.

You sniffle and try to hide your tears. “If that’s how you feel, then I’ll stop bothering you.”

You leave the house, your heart heavy. It’s not the outcome you wanted, but it’s the outcome that happened. Maybe sometime down the line, you and Enji could fall in love and be happy. Or maybe you’d stay apart and move on with your lives.

Slowly, despite your broken heart, you move on. You find other things in your life. You meet new people. You get away from the sugar baby scene and you begin to see things from a different perspective. You missed Enji, yes, but things were different now. You were a different woman.

It was months later when you caught a glimpse of him. You two just happened to be at the same grocery store. He looks better than the last time you saw him. There’s something inside of you that desperately wants to go talk to him, but you know it’ll probably only cause trouble. So you let it slide, hiding your pain by leaving the store before he even spots you.

This begins to happen a bit more. You see Enji while you’re out and about. He seems happier than the last time you saw him. You wonder if maybe he’s seeing someone new. Someone who could treat him well and love him in the way he deserved. As much as you wish for that person to be you, you think you’ve missed your chance. You should have been more attentive to his needs.

Eventually, you accidentally bump into him. Your heart races in your chest when your body hits into the mass of muscles. His eyes widen and he smiles softly. There’s a pink tinge on his cheeks. It’s been almost a whole year since the last time you two talked.

“H-hi…” you offer shyly.

He smiles again. “Hi, how are you?”

This causes the two of you to begin gravitating towards one another. You two stand in the aisle at the grocery store and talk to one another like you were two old friends and not a sugar baby and her former sugar daddy. It tugged at your heartstrings like nothing else could. You were wondering if you could ever get over Enji Todoroki.

“Hey, want to go for coffee sometime?” He says, reaching over to gently brush some hair from your face.

You nod your head. “Yeah! I’d love that.”

A week from that day, you stand in front of one of your favorite cafes waiting for Enji. He arrives soon after, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Your eyes widen when you look at him. He seems almost completely different from the sad man you used to know. He kisses your cheek softly, handing you the bouquet.

Coffee goes well. You’re really surprised by how soft and sweet this man is. When you were his sugar baby, things didn’t go quite the way you wanted. It was always a little more awkward than you had anticipated. But now it felt like you two were getting along in a totally different way.

When he drops you off later on, you two make plans to see each other again. But when the day comes, he completely stands you up. You feel broken hearted. How could he do this to you again? How could he reach into your chest and rip your heart out again when you thought this could be different for you two?

You weren’t going to let him off easy. You make your way to his house by taxi. You’re fuming as you think of all the things you’re going to tell him. As you try to keep a levelhead, you know you’re going to explode.

Touya is the one who lets you in. He’s surprised to see you. He has a million and one questions, but he knows he can wait to ask you. This isn’t what’s important now. Based on the look on your face and how you stormed past him to get to Enji’s room, there is something else going on.

And you begin to slam your fist on Enji’s bedroom door. When he opens it, he’s shocked to see you. He figured you would have just forgotten about this old man. It’s what he deserves. He shouldn’t be allowed to even try to have something of a normal relationship with you.

“How dare you!? How fucking dare you, Enji Torodoki?! You keep fucking ripping my heart out of my chest.” There are tears streaming down your cheeks now.

“You shouldn’t be here!” He yells. “You’re supposed to just fucking forget about me!”

Both of you are angry. The tension is so high right now. You’re practically shaking as the words he said really hit you. You were supposed to just forget about him? How could you forget about the man who actually made you feel something instead of the steady numbness that life provides?

You push yourself against him, your chest mashing itself into his now-doughy body. He wasn’t nearly as muscular as he used to be. He looks at himself as this complete failure. He’s not meant to be loved.

“Enji Todoroki, I fucking love you. Do you understand me?! I love you!”

It’s all he needs to hear before he’s picking you up and pulling you into a heated kiss. He’s hungry as he kisses you, but it’s a little slower this time. It’s like he wants to memorize the taste and feel of you. Hurriedly, he pulls you into his bedroom and closes the door.

You’re pushed onto the bed, and you grab him by the collar of his shirt. He laughs softly when he lands on top of you, slightly crushing you. But it feels oh-so good. You never want this moment to end. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as he leans back in to kiss you. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“I love you too,” he pants between heated kisses. “I was so stupid to hurt you over and over again. I just couldn’t bring myself to drag you down to my level. You deserve the world.”

You shake your head. “You’re the one I want. Can’t you see that?”

He cups your face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away your tears. Enji continues to kiss you over and over, pulling your clothes off with a needy haste. You do the same, making sure to spend extra time caressing his body. He feels old and worn out and washed up, but the way you touch him reminds him that maybe he can be loved.

Enji spends a long time kissing you all over. His tongue soothes over every little inch of your body. You can’t believe this is happening. It feels like heaven just to have him touching you in this way. When he finally has you ready to take him, you’re more than ready.

He slides into you slowly, watching your face contort into pure pleasure. Enji wants to commit this look into his mind for all eternity. Because that to him proves that he can do something right. He ruts into you deeply, but slowly. Every thrust is full of longing and love and need that neither of you could even put into words.

Your wrap your legs around him, pulling him into you even deeper. He smiles before burying his face in the crook of your neck. Enji places little love bites all over your tender flesh as he brings you to orgasm. The sounds you make just for him are what push him even further to his own peak.

“C-can I…inside?” He asks, his tone almost bashful.

You nod eagerly. “Please daddy.”

You watch as his eyes roll back and he growls. His body tenses as he begins to shoot his seed deep inside of you, and then he slowly stills. He holds onto you like you’re about to disappear.

“I love you, I always have. I was a dumb old man and made you feel like you weren’t good enough.” He finally confesses. “But I won’t ever do it anymore. No more…”

You kiss him back, smiling. “I love you too, Enji. I trust you.”

He contents himself with holding you close, running his fingers through your hair. Tomorrow, he’ll make it all up to you. He promises from this day forward, he’s going to show you that he can be a better man.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

#bacon.writes #BNHA #enji todoroki x reader #enji todoroki x fem!reader #enji x reader #enji x you #todoroki enji x reader #todoroki enji x you #enji todoroki #enji todoroki smut #endeavor #endeavor x reader #endeavor x you #endeavor smut #mha enji #mha enji todoroki

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moonlight-records · 2 months ago

Text

Christmas via letters| OP81 (HAC #10)

pairing: op81 x reader

summary: after you break your phone and waiting to buy a new one, you decide the only logical way to contact your boyfriend is via letter for the holiday season.

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: ??

a/n: I FINALLY CAUGHT UP!!! day 10 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | current day | day 11

My dearest Oscar,

Oh my dear, Oscar, I do hope this letter finds you well. How these are very troubling times we have entered. I write this letter to you in the darkest of nights as slumber is near impossible. With you thousands of kilometers away my bed is so terribly big and empty and I am so terribly cold when I’m not in your embrace. Oh how I long for your embrace and to see your handsome face again.

Seriously though, hi babe! Did you like that opening? I hope so because that opening put a LOT of brain cells to work and we both know that I typically never have the brain cells. Now, you’re probably wondering why the hell am I sending you a letter when we can text or video call even though you barely answer your mom or me though since you’re always napping or flirting with Lando or Logan but I’m letting that go right now.

I am so glad you asked because my phone is…broken!! Isn’t that SO fun?! Before you ask, I am already one step ahead of you. Imagine it: a cold, bitter, and rainy Tuesday morning. I’m heading to class. Am I running late to class? Yes. Was it because I got myself a sweet treat? I am just a girl babe, just a girl. Anyway, I am making up for a great time and I will be early to my 8:30 class. Well, about that. I’m looking at my phone and I trip over my feet. Phone goes into a pothole puddle and is completely ruined so I have to wait till my next paycheck to buy a new one while trading in my old phone to get like a piss poor discount off my new phone.

I think I sent you a message on Instagram and TikTok from my laptop about it. I forgot that you aren’t on social media often like me which is very valid so I decided to send you a letter! Besides, I’ve always wanted to write Christmas letters but nobody I know wants to write letters anymore so you, my most loyal subject, are going to write Christmas letters with me! If you want, that is but I hope you do! Unless you want to be on social media to talk to your totally amazing, beautiful, funny girlfriend because I would not complain about that. Maybe you’d finally look at all those super funny cat memes I keep sending you! Well, hope to hear from you soon love

With much love, Y/N

My sweetest Y/N,

I will not be talking in the 19th century. I don’t think I can do justice compared to you but I can confirm that this letter has found me well and I will cherish it deeply.

Listen babe, you knew that when you decided to accept the first date you gained a very sleepy and polite cat from what the fans are deeming me. This should not be a surprise to you or my mom. Though I am not ignoring your text messages to flirt with Lando! Babe, how could you ever think that I would do such a thing? Lando is just a dork that needs constant supervision. Now Logan, on the other hand…babe that is my emotional support American. Are you telling me I CAN’T flirt with my emotional support American? Come on Y/N, you should’ve known that when you said yes to being my girlfriend that it was me AND Logan. We are obviously a package deal.

You dropped your phone in a pothole puddle? That’s…disgusting oh my god. I actually almost gagged at the thought of you reaching into the puddle to grab your phone. No wonder why my phone hasn’t been blowing up as much, babe I am so sorry. Both about your phone being ruined but also for my lack of checking in. Honestly I’ve just been recharging socially to answer emails and stuff. It’s taking much longer since you’re not here to cuddle me…still not an excuse. I wanna emphasize that I’m not excusing my lack of check in for the past few days. Promise to get better on that.

You know what, when you get your new phone, I will not only have opened all your wonderful videos but I’ll even send some back. Just you watch. Though in the meantime since you do want to send letters this holiday season, I guess we can so, do you have anything fun planned for the holiday season?

Sincerely, Oscar Piastri

Dear Oscar,

You answered!! Oh my god, baby you don’t know how excited I am for this. Also god, please do not remind me about the puddle. The thought still makes me shudder and gag. Though babe, you know me. I am not upset at all with you not answering all the time because it doesn’t really upset me. You know that because I know that you answer when I really need you to, which is like once in a blue moon. Like when I got the flat that one time and you so graciously got me an uber home. That was like what? Three months ago? Besides that, babe, show me a sign of life and I’m content for the day. Though are you admitting that Logan gets more attention than me? I might have to find our dating contract and revise that I get equal amount sir sleepy Piastri. But you’ll send me silly Tiktoks?! Oh Oscar, if you want to marry me, you should just ask me but this is so much better.

Oh! I don’t know. I’m helping mom this weekend decorate since it’s going to be the warmest weekend to handle the outside decorations. I’m going to attempt to help with the inside decorations since mom got grandpa’s Christmas village since we finally cleaned his house out. After that I’m kind of going with the flow, you know? Though mom has trusted me to do all the online shopping this year AKA she sends me screenshots and then tells me to order it with her credit card and hoard everything in my room, so. Eventually I will sit down one day and attempt to wrap though mom will probably redo it.

I know one day my friends want to go ice skating and see Wicked again. Now I am all for seeing Wicked again but ice skating? Babe, I fear if we go ice skating that you’ll get a call from me with all of us in the hospital. We can barely stand on our own two feet on a regular day and I know you’ve seen us. You know how clumsy my friends and I are but ‘tis the season, I guess!

Oh! We’re hosting Christmas this year, which will be very interesting. I mean, we got the space for sure but now that means fighting my cousin’s off so they don’t steal my plushies. Gotta defend ‘Mr. Artbag’ and ‘Sir Giggles’ you know? Do you have any plans for this upcoming holiday season?

Waiting for these cat memes, Y/N

To my darling Y/N,

Oh my dearest Y/N, the thing about our dating contract is that it has sadly ended up with me back in Australia so you cannot have it. Though I am willing to revise the contract to make sure you get an equal amount of attention as Logan, though I need something in exchange. Luckily, I have found the contract and as I review our agreement, I think if I give you an equal amount of attention, you have to let me buy you one thing you want every month. Would you be willing to agree to those terms? I’ll throw in 5 cat memes a week free of charge.

Oh that’ll be fun. My sisters wanted to go shopping and since I haven’t seen them I decided to go with them. I really became the bag holder though I wasn’t that upset because I did manage to find some of your Christmas gifts and actually get them with the assistant of my sisters. AKA they asked me what I was looking for and they found it by some miracle. I wish I had that special touch to find things I need–like mothers do you know? Anyway, besides that I don’t know. Mom’s almost done decorating and dad got the tree since ours sadly broke (we’ve had it for almost 10 years, we needed a new one) and they already decorated the tree. Though I might take Rosie and Basil out to grab some gifts.

Wait, you guys are going ice skating? Well, surprise, I’m actually coming out to visit for a bit. Logan and Lando want to hang out before Logan heads back to the states for the holidays so if you guys could try to schedule that about two weeks later when I’m around, I would love to go with you guys, though I would ask if Lando and Logan could possibly join? I have no issue in becoming a personal ambulance, especially if Lando is going to go ice skating. Save us all.

What are you doing for New Years? If you’re not doing anything, mom and my sisters would love to have you over. They miss you and they’re going insane without you having a phone to text them life updates. To be honest, I also miss waking up to all your messages and memes and getting real time updates about your life. Can I buy you a phone? Please?

Hope you get your new phone soon, Oscar Piastri

To the polite sleepy cat,

I talked to my lawyer about this new agreement in our contract and we have agreed to the terms you are requesting. Though I am not exactly happy with the terms about buying me one gift a month but you promise to send 5 cat memes so it’s fine. Though I will say, I am okay with it just being 5 memes a week free of charge if you cannot find any good cat memes. As long as it is a meme of any sorts I will overlook the buying me something for once a month.

Though on a serious note, YOU’RE COMING TO VISIT?! Oh my god, babe this is the best news I have ever heard. Yeah of course! I already asked the group and they would love to have Logan and Lando join us with ice skating! We were planning on getting dinner after if that’s okay with you guys? We’re not sure where we want to go yet but I’m sure we all can figure something out when we all meet up! Also, yes I made sure I was all bundled up, I’m not that crazy! Besides, I want to be able to smooth my dear boyfriend before the season starts without getting him in trouble for starting the new season a bit under the weather.

Ha! Jokes on you, I already ordered my phone. I’m just waiting for it to ship because of course it wasn’t in stock when I went to get it in person. You know me, I just need a simple phone so I was going to get the same one as before. Sadly, it seems that my phone has become popular because they sold out in person! Oscar, do you know how devastated I was to venture out on my weekend to find out it’s out of stock? Truly, a dark day for me but my phone should be here before this letter is sent out. Promise that I’ll send you all my funny memes to make up for these lost times.

As of right now, I don’t think I’m doing anything for New Years. I don’t know what the group wants to do yet but I think they’re all spending the holiday with their significant others so I would love to stay with you and the Piastri family! Are you kidding me? How else am I supposed to see Rosie and Basil?

Well, this is probably coming around the holiday so, merry Christmas my love.

You’re probably napping, Y/N

To the golden retriever,

Hopefully, this reaches you before I arrive. I’m glad to know that your lawyer agrees with these new terms. Do you accept memes via powerpoint presentations? I have taken some time out of my very very very busy schedule to compile a list of the top ten, not five but ten memes that I have seen this week that I believe you will enjoy. Most of them are from the same meme trending on TikTok but I think these stories are right up your alleyway along with some cat memes.

I’m glad you were all bundled up. Not that I would personally care if I got sick if it meant getting my mandatory kisses and cuddles that I’ve been longing for. Any trouble is worth it if it’s so I can see you. I’ve spoken to Lando and Logan and they have agreed that planning for dinner would be the best. Lando has done his usual request of no fish please and thank you. Damn. I was hoping that you didn’t order it so that could’ve been the free gift of the month on top of your Christmas presents. Whatever. Buying you a book will be a great second option and you can’t yell at me!

Oh haha, very funny. I knew this was going to be an issue when I brought you home but I’ll let it go, only because that means you’ll give me extra cuddles later for feeling bad. Kidding, kidding, but seriously. I’m glad that you can come over for New Years. It’ll be fun and everyone will be glad to see you.

Also, I appreciate what you did with the lipstick on this letter. Y/N, you truly flatter me. You think so highly of me that you’ll give me a kiss through the letter? Oh, be still my beating heart. I hope you like my washi tape decorations. I know it’s not on the level of kissing a letter but I think for the first time, it’s great. I also hope you like the polaroid attached as well, if it stays attached. Mom is pretty proud at capturing my failure of trying to build a gingerbread house.

See you soon & at New Years Eve, Oscar Piastri

#moonlight releases #christmas via letters #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #moonlight records holiday advent calendar #mlr.hac day 10

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 10 months ago

Text

Bend & Break - C.SC

🥺Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🥺What: coworkers. friends to fuckers. smut. 🥺Wordcount: 10k 🥺Warnings: Profanity. Sex toys. Dom!reader. Sub!Seungcheol. Petnames from reader to Cheol(baby, sweetheart, little one, good boy, babyboy). Kink discussion. Safeword discussion. Teasing. Fingering by reader to self. Cheol licks/sucks a dildo. He's very needy and desperate <3. Edging(Cheol receiving). Begging(Cheol). Cheol cries(from pleasure dw). Reader just wants to ruin Seungcheol and that's so relatable. Sort of ambigious ending I guess in regards to the future of their relationship.

Summary; You've recently been hired due to the sunshine personality you showed for an interview, purely with the intention of the company pairing you up with Seungcheol to counteract his grumpy attitude around the office. Nobody realises it's just a work persona of yours and when someone does, it's none other than Choi Seungcheol himself.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N; this story would've never happened if the wonderful @bitchlessdino hadn't taken pity on me and my empty brain and slid an idea over to me. And letting me run wild and turn it into a sub cheol smut. Thank you so much for screaming about this with me, sweetheart <3

Edited: 21/12/24

Being the new hire anywhere isn't ever really a thrilling experience for anyone. Being the new hire mostly because of the fake persona you showed at the interview is even worse. Because now, you have to keep acting like the bubbly, happy-go-lucky person you had pretended to be two months ago.

Still, the pay is good, the hours aren't gruelling and although you're part of a dozen-strong team, you share a comfortable little office with only one other person, so you figure it's not the worst trade-off.

Though you still haven't yet decided if your work partner is reason enough to change your mind about that.

Choi Seungcheol is the very reason you were hired; to counteract his frankly miserable attitude around the office. Not that he much leaves your shared office, but when he does he's likely to be glaring at whoever is making the most noise, or simply asking him a question that isn't entirely necessary.

He has the world's most severe case of resting bitch face too, which regularly causes issues with clients. So you were hired to be the pep in client meetings and steer things in the correct direction when Seungcheol is seconds from saying something that could risk the contract, or a trip to HR.

Seungcheol isn't the type to fake interest in the personal lives of clients or colleagues; he's just here to work. And honestly, you respect that a hell of a lot. But it also means you shoulder all the small talk and have to look at pictures of people's pets, kids, and holidays that you really could not give less shits about.

And all of that means that although Seungcheol is a hard worker and you're beyond happy to have a competent partner at your side, he is one of the main reasons for your rising stress levels. Just once you'd like to not have to be the smiling balm to soothe the sting of his harsh demeanour and blunt words.

Alas, Seungcheol is not going to change his ways, especially when he doesn't know that you could really do with him pulling his weight in the charm department.

Which is made very apparent on one particular day with a new client who seems to consistently bump heads with Seungcheol.

The meeting is an hour of Seungcheol's nastiest bitch face and the client's obnoxious attitude flaunting the “customer is always right” motto the company stupidly prides itself on. You want to tell the client to go fuck himself on more than one occasion throughout the meeting, but you can't seeing as you'd like to be able to keep receiving a pay check.

As soon as the meeting is over, Seungcheol is out of there, no doubt halfway back to your shared office before you can even exit the little conference room thanks to the client deciding that “you just have to visit the resort I vacationed in. Here, let me show you the site”. So you're stuck pretending to be interested in the fancy foreign resort that the client shows you on his phone for the next handful of minutes before you can finally leave.

After all that you really need a break, so instead of going straight back to your office you walk straight past it and to the supply room for your floor.

Once inside the small room of shelving units full of various office supplies, you just stand there, eyes squeezed closed and hands tight on your hips while you focus on trying to calm yourself down with some deep breathing.

You're so focused that you don't hear the door open a few minutes later. The gentle tap of shoes on the hard flooring has your eyes snapping open and over to where Seungcheol, of all people, is standing with one hand raised to grab a new packet of printer paper, but his attention is entirely on you. He looks bewildered; one eyebrow raised and the other scrunched a little with his head tilted slightly.

You immediately slap on your usual bright smile, entirely fake but nobody has ever noticed that before, and grab a new, empty folder from the shelf near you. “I didn't know we need new paper already, I would've grabbed it myself if I knew,” you chirp, already walking towards the exit but the room isn't wide enough for there to be enough space around Seungcheol for you to just breeze on by like you want to. And he doesn't step aside either.

“Well, guess everyone's favourite isn't all sunshine and rainbows after all,” he replies with a smug smirk. “I wonder how everyone will react to knowing the truth about you.

“I don't know what you mean, Seungcheol.” You smile sweetly then skirt around him and leave before he can say anything else so you can return to your shared office to get to work on the new client file.

You expect Seungcheol to say something when he returns; to try and taunt you and goad you some more yet he doesn't say a thing, he just silently refills the paper in the printer and gets back to work.

For a whole week, Seungcheol has you on edge; he keeps smirking at you knowingly and making vague comments around others in what you know is an attempt to get you to break. But you hold on strong and don't show a single sign that the you everyone in the office knows, isn't you at all.

It's pretty much a week to the exact minute that you break. Another meeting with that same client that goes about as well as the first has you back in the supply room counting your breaths.

You're very certain that your printer does not need more paper already when you look over at the footsteps entering the small room.

Seungcheol isn't even pretending to be there for any reason other than to watch you break. He's leaning against the unit on his right with his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smirk on his face.

And finally, enough is enough.

“You need to fucking stop,” you warn. His face lights up in victory at you not even attempting to put on the higher, friendlier pitch you use at work; your customer service voice that you even use for your colleagues. “Seriously, Seungcheol, stop it,” you reiterate while heading towards the exit.

This time, Seungcheol purposely stands in your path and looks down at you arrogantly. “Are you going to admit that you're not the innocent little sweetheart that everyone thinks you are?”

You take a breath as you stare back at him just so you don't break too far. “You don't even know the half of it,” you retort simply.

Seungcheol stares back at you curiously for a few seconds before stepping aside to watch you go, wondering what exactly that means and how he can find out for himself.

After that second incident in the supply room, you figure there's really not any point in keeping up the facade with Seungcheol so when it's just the two of you in your private office, you let the persona drop.

The first time you swear to yourself in complaint over your work, Seungcheol gawps at you in shock until you notice and raise an eyebrow at him. But he says nothing and doesn't react after that time except the occasional amused smile to himself as he hears you curse colourfully at much more regular intervals than he ever does.

And Seungcheol lets you see more of the real him too.

The two of you have always met outside of work for the sake of finishing tasks or discussing clients without being confined to the same four walls of your office. You'd get dinner or he'd come over to your apartment to go over documents in your office for however long necessary. But it was always about work.

Though now that he knows who you really are, it's not always about work; your conversations over dinner turn more friendly, enough that you see him smiling genuinely and laughing for the first time. And he doesn't stop either.

A genuine friendship quickly blossoms between the pair of you, allowing you to be yourselves to the extent that on more than one occasion Seungcheol has turned big, pleading puppy eyes on you with a pout to convince you to go where he wants for dinner, or even when he's complaining about his friends and being whiny, the big eyes hit you.

And the way they hit you is really not something you think you should think about the man, so you shove the thoughts of pinning him down and telling him what to do out of your mind.

The friendship between you is noticed by your colleagues too. It's kind of hard to miss the way that you're the only person who can get Seungcheol to join work dinners, after all.

You both know that there's a 'secret' betting pool going around the office in regard to whether you two are secretly dating or not; Jeonghan is not as slick as he thinks at hiding the bet sheet. And for fun, sometimes you and Seungcheol will purposely let your fingers brush over one another or let your gazes linger longer than they should, just to watch your coworkers try to not visibly flail at what they think are moments of you two failing to hide your relationship.

Though mostly, your close relationship means that when one of you is invited to drinks, dinner or some other activity with colleagues, you'll both turn up. Even if neither of you want to. But you dug a hole with your fake persona and refuse to be buried in it alone so always drag Seungcheol in to suffer with you.

Which leads us to the day that you well and truly snap.

It's one of those days where if something can go wrong, it will, topped with shitty clients and colleagues who will just not let you have five minutes of peace.

By the end of the day, you're wound so tight that all you want to do is go home and give yourself some good old-fashioned stress relief on one of your favourite toys. But this day doesn't allow you even that.

It's another casual team dinner that you can't get out of; it's to celebrate Mingyu's birthday and well, even if you're in a shitty mood, the giant puppy of a man is such a sweetheart that you truly would feel bad about ditching him to masturbate.

So you get into Seungcheol's car like usual after work, go to the restaurant and sit at his side at the table while silently praying that this will not be a complete shit show.

Two hours later, you're really at the end of your fucking rope. You really had been naive to even hope that this team dinner wouldn't be as rowdy and chaotic as all the rest. Your colleagues are a lot on the best of days with nothing to celebrate, so when they have an excuse to drink they really go for it. You're always surprised when the group isn't kicked out of public spaces, honestly.

The only ones not drinking are you and Seungcheol. Neither of you ever drink at these gatherings; you claim that you just don't drink in general while Seungcheol flat-out refuses without any attempt at an excuse. Really, you both don't want to risk encouraging the group to invite either of you out for more than just the company-related dinners, so not drinking sort of keeps the team in general at arm's length. Though both of you do have a few drinks when it's just the two of you and you can let yourselves relax in trusted, comfortable company.

But this is not that, this is you sitting side by side with Seungcheol blessedly keeping his mouth shut while you try not to break and tell everyone to shut the fuck up before leaving.

You do, however, take solace in the bathroom a few times, using the cold water to cool you down before going back into what tonight feels like your own personal hell.

On your latest trip out of the bathroom Seungcheol passes you, heading to empty his own bladder. He smirks at you and murmurs something in your ear as you pass one another. You can't even tell what he says; your brain is so heavy with fuzzy tension that his words don't register at all. But they don't need to, you know he's teasing you about your temper; he's done it before many times. Usually, you'd just joke back at him and point out his own, but tonight you don't have it in you.

Your gaze turns icy on him in a second causing him to come to an abrupt stop. You don't linger, don't slow and just turn and settle your expression back to your facade before rejoining the drunken group.

When Seungcheol returns, he timidly slips into his seat on your right silently in an attempt to not anger you further. Though a few seconds later, the tip of his left pinkie brushes the edge of your right elbow where it's resting on the tabletop, his hand sort of hooked on the edge of the table close to you yet out of sight of your colleagues.

You turn your head to look at Seungcheol and find him looking at you with those fucking giant doe eyes, silently asking for forgiveness. But you don't give it, just turn back around to watch your coworkers making absolute fools of themselves.

Yet your mind is stuck on Seungcheol's innocent expression and timid posture and all you can think about is how much you'd love to make him squirm and beg under your attention. It's riling you up in a way you usually keep such a tight lid on, but considering how tense you already are tonight, that lid is bowing and shaking under the building pressure and you know it'll blow soon enough.

For the first time since meeting Seungcheol, being in his passenger seat isn't a very pleasant experience. Neither of you say a word for the entire fourteen-minute drive from the restaurant to your apartment, and that in itself isn't unusual, but usually there isn't this thick tension hanging between you two.

When Seungcheol pulls up in front of your building, you turn to look at him. He has both hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the space between his hands with clearly no intention of doing more than just dropping you off at home despite the fact he usually goes straight inside with you to hang out some more.

And honestly, it's probably best if he does go straight home and leaves you to deal with your tension alone. But it's not exactly an option.

“You need to check those documents ready for Monday,” you remind. Seungcheol lets out a reluctant breath but relocates the car to the parking lot in silent agreement.

Once in your apartment, the two of you remove your shoes and jackets to put them in their usual places.

It's kind of insane to you that Seungcheol is at your apartment enough that there is literally space on the low shoe rack for him to leave his shoes, and a gap on the pegs for his work jacket, there's even one of his casual jackets already there on the next peg. You don't really have any close friends, nobody you deem worth your time to allow into your life frequently enough to have a usual place in your home.

There isn't anything said between you as you walk through to your office where you lean over onto the desk to boot up your computer while Seungcheol hovers awkwardly a little behind you.

While waiting for the system to accept your password for the work files, you look over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. He stares back at you dumbly until you give him a look and motion to the chair on your right with a silent tilt of your head.

In seconds, Seungcheol's ass meets the seat and he stares up at you with big, obedient eyes, his hands laced together and trapped between his thick thighs.

It's all rather dangerous considering how close you are to snapping and overstepping the boundaries neither of you had ever verbally set up between you but are always in place in platonic relationships. Even if you want nothing more than to destroy them right now, and Seungcheol too.

So you turn back to your computer with gritted teeth, open the relevant documents and motion to the computer vaguely before leaving the room entirely.

You go straight to the kitchen to down a glass of water as cold as you can stand it before splashing more on your face, then dragging a cold, wet hand on the back of your neck needing all the help you can currently get to cool down in every sense of the word.

It doesn't work.

By the time Seungcheol is done with the documents and shuffles into the kitchen, you're standing with both hands on the counter in front of you while staring darkly at nothing in particular, jaw tense and an attempt in your breathing to try and regulate your emotions.

“I finished it, it's all ready to send off,” he informs, coming to a stop a few metres away, not as close as he'd usually stand but still closer than sensible if he knew the depravity in your mind right now.

“Good,” you return simply without even looking at him.

He huffs a soft laugh. “No thank you?” He jokes, but you can't see the humour at all. Not when you're feeling like this.

“Thank you?” You repeat flatly before turning your dark gaze to him as you straighten and lean off of the counter. He swallows thickly and takes a step back when you take one towards him, prompting him to keep reversing. “Why should I thank you for doing your fucking job, huh?”

Seungcheol's mouth opens and closes with an attempt to try and say something, some kind of a “just joking” explanation but all he manages are vague sputters of sound that cut off abruptly when his back hits the wall and you're standing right in front of him. He's taller than you by a handful of inches but right now, he feels so fucking small and he's surprised by how much he likes it.

"Well?" You prompt, well aware that he had tried to explain himself; his pathetic stammering was very obvious and gave away that you’re intimidating him.

Though based on the big innocent eyes on you paired with the prettiest of pink tints to his cheeks, you think that perhaps intimidation isn't all it is.

And it's just pushing you to keep pushing him until he breaks because you know that he'll break so fucking beautifully.

“I'm sorry,” he finally manages to squeak out.

“You think that's good enough? You think you can just give me empty words and all is forgiven? Oh, baby, you really don't know me at all.”

He just stares at you dumbly; mouth dry and pupils dilating further and further with every act you make.

It's far from the Seungcheol you see at work and that thought sort of douses you in icy water. This isn't normal for either of you.

Well, it's not unusual behaviour for you with partners at all, but he doesn't know that. Besides, he's your work partner and friend, not a sexual partner.

“Shit.” You sigh and back up a little. “You should go, I'm clearly not in the right frame of mind and if you stay, I'll go too far.” You try to move even further away to give him space to leave, yet you're stopped by your shirt pulling tight around your back. You look down and find both of Seungcheol's hands gripping the hem of your untucked shirt, his fingers trembling a little. You look back up with a questioning eyebrow.

“ don't want to leave,” he admits quietly as his cheeks darken slightly.

“No?” He shakes his head shyly. “You know what it means if you stay, right? You know what I want to do to you?” You check a little worriedly.

“Uhm...dom me?”

You huff a laugh. “I want to ruin you, baby.” His eyes light with interest. “You want that? Big scary Choi Seungcheol wants little ol' me to pin him down and make him cry?” You tease while running a finger over his jaw.

His mouth opens wider and his tongue appears with the tip pressed against his lip as if reaching for your touch. You don't give it to him even if you think he'll look precious with your fingers in his mouth.

You pull your hands away and cross your arms over your chest. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, Seungcheol.” Your voice is firm and your expression is the same on him.

“Y-yes!” He rushes out. “I-I want you to do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“Use me.” You hadn't said those words yourself, but you like them a hell of a lot. “Push me down and use me to make yourself feel good. Make me cry, ruin me. Please just...do something,” he's begging by now, not as strongly as he could be, still holding back a lot but you're pretty sure it's all very new for him.

You need to check though before anything goes any further. “Have you ever done anything like this before? Subbed?”

He shakes his head a little. “No, it's usually the other way.”

“Figures.” You huff a laugh then reach down to remove his hands from your shirt to take one into your own hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to your bedroom, though let him go in the middle of the floor to walk over and sit on the edge of your bed. He fidgets when you just stare at him contemplatively, your eyes dark and calculating as you lean back on your palms behind you with your legs crossed over at the ankles comfortably.

When he starts to fiddle with the hem of his shirt nervously, you speak up deeming him desperate enough with his cheeks a magnificent dark pink. “What're your limits, Cheolie?”

The nickname is new but he likes it. It feels fitting somehow.

“Uh.” He has to stop and think for a moment. He isn't sure exactly what his limits are for certain in this situation because he doesn't know what he likes in the submissive role, but there are some things he knows he'll never be okay with so he starts there. “Bodily fluids outside of spit and cum.”

“So you don't mind being spat on with your own cum?”

“Uh, I mean, I think I'm okay with it,” he offers awkwardly; uncertain but trying his hardest to be open and honest.

“How about eating it?”

“Uh...I don't know about that.”

“Okay.” You easily accept his response and move on. “What else? Pain?”

“I don't know; I've never received it before. If you want to try it I'm willing just… not too intense.”

“Hmm, we'll see. Edging? Overstimulation?” Those options have him hesitating as he genuinely considers them both. And then, he nods slowly, shyly. “I asked a question, Seungcheol.”

“Y-yes, to both.”

“Good, because that's my favourite thing to do to my little ones,” you coo. “Pick a safe word.”

“Uh, can we use the traffic light system? Red for stop, green for carry on?”

“Sure thing,” you agree easily; it was familiar enough to you after all. “What do you use for uncertain? Some people say yellow, some orange, some amber.”

“Whatever.”

“Pick one,” it's a demand he quickly obeys.

“Amber.”

“Good boy.” He visibly preens a little at the praise, which you make a mental note of. “Are you clean? Sexually, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“And that's a recent test since your last sexual partner?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I won't touch you without that confirmation and luckily, I trust you to be honest so you don't need to show me proof like I usually demand.”

“You trust me?” He asks softly, awed by the words and the weight they carry.

You hum and nod in confirmation. “More than anyone else.”

“Oh.” He smiles down at his hands happily. “I feel the same about you too.”

“I imagine so, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be willing to do this if you didn't,” you tease.

“Ah, yeah, true.” He chuckles and rubs his neck shyly.

You let him stew in his minor embarrassment for a second before talking again. “Degradation?” He looks up at you at that. “How do you feel about that?”

“I might cry,” he admits honestly, making you laugh a little at the blunt way he speaks the words. “I don't like being called names or looked down on.”

“Okay, baby, none of that,” you assure.

“Thank you.”

“Mm, of course, I have to make this good for you too. And I do love that you use your manners without being prompted. Such a good boy, huh?” His eyes round out again at you and the semi-casual air between you dissipating with your slightly teasing tone. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, Cheolie?”

“Yes, I'll be good for you.”

“Then strip.” He blinks at you a few times at the abrupt demand; the way your tone changes from light to borderline hard with no room for arguments.

Slowly, Seungcheol's slightly shaky fingers first remove his tie, and then his shirt, exposing his broad, muscle-thick torso to you. He knows he looks good, that his body is worth ogling but your dark eyes still make him feel shy.

Still, he continues, his top half entirely bare and moving onto his belt.

Something about the way he opens it and pulls it free from the loops of his slacks is really attractive to you. You can easily imagine him teasing his own sub as he removes his belt before grabbing the ends to turn it on their backside when he bends them over. Maybe you could break for him too; if he turns out to be a good enough fuck this time that is.

For now, you're more than content to watch him open his button and zipper and let his trousers drop to his ankles. He bends down to remove them from around his feet, taking his socks off too and then he straightens up and looks at you. You can tell he's hesitant to remove his boxers by the way his fingers fiddle with the waistband over his hips for a few seconds.

There's a part of you that wants to let him off easy for now and allow him to keep his boxers on for a little while. But the bigger part of you really doesn't want to do that so you continue to silently watch him.

Seungcheol lowers his head to look down at his underwear for a second, then he looks at you through his eyelashes still hoping you'll take pity on him. You don't. So he looks back down as he takes a long breath in before he hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and starts to push the material down.

You watch with rapt attention as the final piece of the beautiful, thick-built puzzle that is Choi Seungcheol is revealed to you inch by glorious inch. You have to admit, he's fucking gorgeous and it does a lot to you. Makes you throb between your thighs as they clench for a second while he's distracted focusing on removing his boxers from his legs.

And then he's entirely bare and looking at you shyly, fingers on his right hand picking at the nails of his left in nervous wait.

“C'mere,” you murmur. Seungcheol stumbles over and when you nod to the floor, he slowly lowers to his knees, letting his hands hover over his rapidly hardening dick. That is like the rest of him; thick and unfairly beautiful.

At this rate, you can't tell who is going to ruin who.

“Don't hide from me.” You unfold your legs just to gently tap at his hands with your socked foot before settling it flat on the floor beside his left knee.

A little reluctantly, Seungcheol moves his hands aside to place them on the tops of his thighs and allow you the full view of his kneeled form.

“Mm, much better, good boy.” The praise straightens his posture a little. “You're so beautiful, babyboy, don't deprive me of such a gorgeous view, hm?”

“Ah, fuck,” he softly breathes out; a little overwhelmed by the unexpected compliments, which he just knows are genuine from your tone and expression on him. You clearly like what you see and it makes his dick jump a little against his thigh. You smirk at the visible response; you've always known that Seungcheol loves compliments and praise but you didn't know just how much.

“Shall we even things out a little?” You suggest, already getting up to your feet in front of him.

He watches you with rapt attention as you open your trousers and shimmy them down. His gaze is too focused on the skin of your thighs coming into sight that he doesn't realise that you've pushed your panties down with your trousers to save yourself time. At least until you sit back down on the edge of the bed when the material is around your knees.

“Off,” you demand.

Seungcheol's hands immediately reach out to hook his fingers over the combined waistbands and pull them off of your slightly raised legs. It's when he's setting them aside that he notices the white material inside of the black of your trousers and freezes.

Mindlessly, he moves one hand to pull on the white material and quickly looks at you with wide eyes and his mouth parted. You just raise an eyebrow in return, silently prompting him to snap back to his task and move the material aside entirely so that he can carefully remove your socks too.

“Good boy.”

Just to tease, you sit there for a good almost twenty seconds with your legs closed most of the way, just the slightest gap between your thighs but it's not big enough for him to see anything but a dark shadow.

To your surprise, he actually gives in first. “Please?” He begs softly, looking up at you pleadingly. “Please let me see your pussy.”

“Oh, how can I refuse such good manners?” You coo and spread your legs causing his gaze to drop back down between them. Though he whines when he realises that your shirt is long enough to mostly cover you and shadow the rest. “You make such cute sounds, Cheolie.”

“Don't tease me,” he complains.

“I'll do what I want and you'll be grateful for it.” He presses his lips together looking fully scolded and stares at you in wait. He's impatient, that's very obvious but he's doing his best to stick to this new dynamic.

Honestly, he's taking to it a lot better than you had expected, or hoped, considering all that you know about Choi Seungcheol; so instead of prolonging it any longer, you lift the hem of your shirt out of the way with one hand.

Seungcheol's lips part when his eyes land back between your thighs and take in the sight of you fully exposed to him. Automatically, his hands lift with every intention of putting them on your thighs to push your legs open further while he leans in licking his lips.

But you stop him with your free hand, a finger pressed to his forehead. “I didn't say you can touch.” You grin amusedly at his dumb-aroused expression; his mouth open and tongue hanging out a little.

“Can I taste?” He requests, putting his hands back on his thighs but not leaning back. Your slightly condescending laugh makes him pout. When you nudge his forehead under your index finger, he leans back into a sulky slouch.

“Your job is to sit there and look pretty for me,” you point out, now using that same finger to trail up your inner thigh. Seungcheol's pout melts away as he watches its path intently. He audibly inhales sharply when it drags through your folds. He groans a little when he sees the shine now on the digit and wishes it was his tongue getting doused in your arousal.

Even though you very much would enjoy an orgasm or two sooner rather than later, you continue to tease yourself with one finger; barely brushing over your clit and circling your hole but never pushing in. It's more to tease Seungcheol and the squirming of his body perhaps turns you on more than your own actions.

Either way, when you do finally give in and plunge your finger inside, you're wet enough that it's more than easy and honestly, not very satisfying past the initial relief of having something in you finally.

Though that relief passes very quickly so soon you're adding a second finger and watching Seungcheol chew on his bottom lip hard enough that you think he's going to break skin any second. You really don't want that, so you pull your fingers out and reach towards him. The speed at which he leans it with his mouth opening genuinely makes you laugh.

“Oh, baby, you are desperate, huh?” You tease and adjust your hand so that your thumb presses against his bottom lip and your slick fingers are not close enough to his mouth to get even the hint of a taste. “You're not getting a taste, I just don't want you to hurt those pretty lips.” The expression he lands on you is utterly heartbroken. “Stop biting or I'll gag you, understand?”

“I...I understand,” he agrees, so you let him go and return your fingers back to yourself, though Seungcheol doesn't lean back. In this position, his head is pretty much between your knees, which you spread a little wider and he takes as permission to scoot a little closer. You don't mind at all, he'll just be teasing himself more with a closer view after all.

Your intention with fingering yourself isn't to reach orgasm at all, mostly you just want to tease Seungcheol by showing him what he can't have, though you also do want to prepare yourself. When you're able to easily take three fingers, you remove them and get up.

“Wh-where are you going?” He worries, hands lifting from his thighs but only hovering a few inches away from his own body. He wants to reach out and stop you from walking away but he knows he can't. You still haven't given him permission to touch yet and he really doesn't want to be scolded again, let alone face any kind of punishment you may give him if he disobeys a direct order. He's horny, not stupid.

“I'll be right back, just sit there and wait like a good boy, sweetheart,” your voice is gentle in order to soothe him that you are, in fact, not planning to actually leave and end things here as he fears.

You quickly grab something from a case in the chest of drawers before returning. You sit back down and open your thighs again, but Seungcheol's gaze is glued to the pale blue dildo in your hand.

“What do you think?” You muse, leaning down to hold it near to his erection in comparison. “Ah, not quite as thick as you.” You sigh dramatically and straighten back up. “That's a shame; it's as close as I've got though, so it'll have to do.” You pout theatrically as you trace the tip of the silicone toy over your slick folds; it's a little cold and jarring but you do your best to ignore it. Besides, the temperature difference isn't something you're entirely against.

Vaguely, you wonder if Seungcheol would be into temperature play; you've never tried it before but you've always been interested in both giving and receiving.

Seungcheol wants to make a retort, say that instead of settling for a toy that wouldn't stretch you like his thick cock would, you could just use his. He'd fuck you however you want and probably thank you for it at this point; he's throbbing with need and leaking on his thigh. He doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on in his life. But he can't talk, can't say a fucking thing as he watches the head of the toy breach you.

He was wrong before, now he's more turned on than he's ever been as he watches the way the girth of the toy spears you open.

Your breath catches a little so he looks up at you and once again corrects himself because your expression is what wet dreams are fucking made of. Your mouth is parted and your eyes are closed, your head tipped back slightly and your cheeks pink with pleasure.

You let out a curse under your breath so he looks back down and swears in the same fashion when he sees that you have entirely embedded the toy within you, just the slightly flared base in your fingers still.

“Fuck,” he curses again when you start to pull the toy out slowly and he sees how you've drenched it. Your eyes open to look down at him with an amused lopsided grin. He doesn't notice though, he's too entranced by the show less than a metre in front of his face.

Seungcheol doesn't notice the way he naturally moves a hand towards his crotch with the intention of soothing his aching cock, but you do. “Stop,” you demand, stopping your own motions of fucking into yourself slowly to let yourself get used to the toy's length and girth fully.

“Huh?” He looks up at you confused with his mouth wide open.

“I didn't give you permission to touch your cock, Seungcheol.”

“What?” He looks down and notices the hand inches from his dick. “Oh.” He hesitates but obediently puts his hand back on his thigh before looking up at you shyly. “I-I didn't realise. I'm sorry.”

“Feeling that needy?” You smirk and get back to fucking yourself on the toy. He lets out a sound, a mix between a whimper and a groan as he looks back down at your pussy. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, I've never been this turned on before,” he admits in a rush of syllables. “Wanna fuck you so much,” he whines, fingers curling into fists which he presses down onto his thighs almost harshly in an attempt to behave for you.

He wants to be good for you. Wants to be your good boy. But it's so fucking hard when you look so fucking good. Look like your pussy would take him so well and make a fucking mess of him.

All he wants is to get up, throw that toy aside and sink his cock into you and feel your slick, heated walls around him. He's fucking convinced that your pussy would be perfect for him.

But he can't, and that's really hard for him to accept and handle when he's usually the one in charge during sex.

“Think you can make me feel better than this?” You taunt a little and pick up speed, letting your pleasure show through with little pleased sounds that really do not help Seungcheol's self-control at all. He moves a little closer yet doesn't touch either of you the way he wants to.

He's obviously trying his hardest and that, you think, is more than enough when honestly, you really want his cock in you as much as he wants to put it in you.

“Yes,” there's not an ounce of hesitation in his answer, he's entirely confident in his abilities, in his thick cock.

Usually, you'd roll your eyes and dismiss that confidence from a man because they're notoriously cocky with nothing to back up their claims. Part of the reason you got into domming is because men don't know how to use their dicks, so you always get more pleasure when you're on top and controlling how your walls are pummelled.

But there's something about Seungcheol that tells you that he's not like other men. He can and will fuck you right given the chance. Still, you want to be on top in every way.

“Big talk, little one.” You huff a laugh, most of your breath affected by the pleasure of the toy you're using to hit all of those good spots inside of you with every thrust. You're not being as rough as you could be, as you often tend to be when you feel like this, but you're talking and know that you have no space left in your chest for words when you truly fuck yourself.

“Let me prove it,” he pleads. “Please, just let me fuck you and I promise you'll cum hard.”

“I'll cum hard regardless,” you hum. His expression twists in displeasure knowing that you are truly dismissing his offer. “Maybe another time,” you counteroffer, not liking that downtrodden expression at all.

He looks up at you with hope glistening his dark gaze. “Yeah?” He asks with a surprised exhale.

“If you do good enough for me this time.” You pull the toy out and point it at him. Seungcheol eyes it and licks his lips. “What? You wanna suck it?” You taunt.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs.

“Enough to suck my cock?”

He glances up at you then looks back down and nods, licking his lips again. “Yeah, can I? Please?”

“Seeing as you asked so nicely,” you approve and touch the silicone toy to his bottom lip.

Seungcheol's tongue immediately darts out to pass over the silicone and get his first taste of you. His eyes roll back and he groans before he very enthusiastically starts to drag his mouth over the toy. He moves up the length along every side, not actually putting the toy into his mouth really, but this is absurdly hot enough as it is.

It turns you on much more than you had anticipated seeing this handsome man pretty much going feral for your taste that he'll messily lave his tongue over the dildo with his eyes closed in bliss and constant streams of groans of approval vibrating out of his throat.

And when he moves back to the tip and wraps his lips around it, genuinely sucking on the fake-cock, well that's as much as you can handle. You pull it away without warning creating a pop before Seungcheol looks at you half dazed, half betrayed with a smidge of confusion.

“Get on the bed,” you demand, getting up and walking around to one side of the bed while unbuttoning your shirt.

Seungcheol doesn't even have to think; there's no mental input on his behalf as he jumps up. His legs almost give out under him as the blood rushes back into his limbs after sitting on them in one position for a prolonged period, but he powers through to practically throw himself onto the mattress.

“On your back.” He crawls and shuffles until he's on his back with his head on the pillows and chest rising and falling heavily already in anticipation.

Seungcheol's heavy gaze remains on you as you reveal your body entirely. He lets out a shaky exhale when you're fully bare and climbing up onto the mattress at his left. “You're beautiful,” he says in a tone that is far too affectionate for what is going on here.

It makes you pause for a moment and look carefully at his gaze. He still looks ridiculously horny but there's something else there now; a touch of fond that genuinely sort of worries you.

Of course, you are fond of Seungcheol; he's a very precious friend to you but your feelings don't extend further than that, further than platonic and sexual. You really hope that the fondness you see is nothing more than a reflection of your own feelings and nothing more. Him having romantic feelings could certainly complicate matters more than adding sex into the mix will.

Sex you can navigate with your eyes closed, but feelings? That's an entirely different circus.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” His hopeful tone brings you back to reality. He hasn't even noticed your hesitation for what it truly is and just assumes you're teasing him further.

“Not today,” you answer, silently deciding to just give you both what you want right now and have an actual discussion later when you're both not horny messes.

“Oh.” His lips purse into a pout but then you retrieve a condom from the side table drawer and he lights up again. “Oh!” You let out a soft amused sound at his excited reaction and straddle his thighs while opening the wrapper. “Can I touch myself?” You give him an unimpressed look. “Just to help!” He assures.

“Mm, sure, I'll allow that,” you agree. Seungcheol has his dick in hand as soon as the words are slipping from your lips and holding it upright for you. You notice the way he shudders a little at his own touch on his aching cock and don't berate him for the subtle stroke he gives himself as he rolls the rubber down his length once you put it at his tip. “Good boy,” you hum, tossing the foil aside carelessly.

“For you,” he answers, wide eyes watching as you move up his body to hover over his length that he's still holding upright. “Please.” He doesn't even realise he says it, but you do and decide you've both waited more than long enough.

As soon as you start to slide down his cock, Seungcheol's eyes roll back and his hands fly out to grip your hips tightly. It feels pretty nice so you allow it, at least for now, it's kind of stabilising to have his strong grasp centring you while his cock splits you open.

Although it hadn't looked that much bigger than your toy, you can certainly feel the difference in girth right now. Plus the fact that Seungcheol is so fucking hard in you compared to the slight give of the toy, well you're already so close to an orgasm it's kind of ridiculous.

It takes you both a handful of seconds of heavy breathing to gather yourselves when you're fully impaled on his length and seated on his hips. You don't even try to keep any weight off of him; you're certain he can handle it and even if you weren't, your legs are already weak enough from the feeling of him stretching you out even still like this that you doubt you could hold yourself up if you tried.

You haven't realised that your eyes had closed until you've got some of your breath back, enough to have a mind clear enough to want to look down at him. His eyes are closed; he's struggling more than you, which doesn't surprise you considering how you hadn't allowed him any touch until now.

Carefully, you remove Seungcheol's grip from your hips and lean over to pin his hands up by his head. The new angle has his cock hitting a delicious spot within you and you can't help but grind down against him to gain friction against it. This angle also means that your clit is rubbing against his body with every roll of your hips.

Seungcheol barely manages to open his eyes and look at you before they roll back again with pleasure as you moan over him, fingers gripping onto his wrists with your full weight. He doesn't mind at all, doesn't really register it considering you're so wet and hot and tight around him that he truly cannot focus on anything else. Yet even if he could register it, he wouldn't give a single fuck. You could crush him and he'd be into it right now.

“D-don't cum,” you order when you feel your orgasm right on the brink, eyes opening to peer down at him. His own fly open in pained disbelief. “Un-fuck-understand, Seungcheol?” He whines but nods obediently. The agreement of restraint sends you over. Pleasure shocks through your body making it jerk a little, mouth open with broken higher-pitched moans coming out.

Seungcheol's whole body tenses and his face screws up tightly as you clamp down around him. He's never fought an orgasm before but you told him not to cum and he's not going to let you down now.

He's shaking by the time you slump over him, forehead dropping to his shoulder as you fight to suck air back into your lungs, just the occasional tiny twitch of your hips when a fresh lick of pleasure shoots through you with the aftershocks of an intense orgasm.

“Did you cum?” You check another few moments later.

It takes Seungcheol a few attempts to answer, just grunts coming out at first but you wait patiently. “No,” he manages while flexing his fingers to give him something else to focus on.

“Good boy,” you praise and press a kiss to his neck. His breath catches at the unexpected action but then you do it again, and again, and again as you adjust yourself while leaning up to look down at him with your hands now on the mattress and not pressing down against his wrists in a tight grip.

You take a look at them and are relieved that there's only slight redness right now, so you're pretty sure he won't bruise. Still, you'll keep an eye on it just in case.

“You did so well, Cheolie.” You hum and cup his jaw. His lip trembles a little, eyes so big on you and soaking in the praise. It helps his shaking lessen as he relaxes from doing his utmost not to cum with the fluttering of your walls around him. “Think you can hold out longer for me, baby?”

“I...ye-yeah.” He isn't sure but he's sure he'll try his best for you. He really wants to be your good boy. Your best boy.

“Yeah?” You smile softly, pleased. He nods and smiles back a little in a natural reaction to seeing you happy with him. “That's my boy.” You tap his nose, then straighten up to sit on his hips with your hands on his solid abs. “I'm going to ride you now, okay baby?”

He nods shakily and sticks his hands under the pillow to grip it. “O-okay.”

“Colour?” He blinks at you confusedly a few times. “What colour are you right now, sweetheart?”

“Oh, green,” he answers. “Green.” The repetition makes your lips quirk up. It's oddly endearing that he's assuring you right now considering he's the one missing an orgasm.

“Good, tell me if that changes, okay?” He nods. You let him get away with not verbally responding this time and start to lift yourself up.

Seungcheol's gaze falls to watch his length appear from your dripping pussy utterly mesmerised. Up until you abruptly drop yourself back down, ass smacking down on his upper thighs audibly.

A loud, low moan tears from his open mouth as his back arches upwards. He looks fucking beautiful like this. You have to keep making him do that so you don't hesitate to lift and drop in the very same way; taking up a punishing rhythm that has his cock dragging against your walls in the most incredible of ways.

Honestly, you're half convinced his cock just being in you has you halfway to a constant orgasm because that ball in your lower stomach winds up tight so fucking quickly that you barely register it until it's there, urging you over but this isn't quite enough for you. You need clitoral stimulation but you don't think it's wise to give it to yourself right now with Seungcheol buried within you and his body trembling as he still holds back with everything in him.

At this point, he's babbling a little in amongst his constant stream of porn-worthy moans. You're not quite sure what he's saying really, you're not sure that he even knows what he's saying either.

If you cum with him inside you, you're positive that he will too regardless of your words so you pull off of him. His eyes instantly fly open in alarm and he looks at you as he lifts his head up. You just settle down again along his latex-covered cock to grind along the length.

He gasps and shudders watching his cock peek out through your slick folds. “Please, please,” he begs; his babbles now making sense while he's not overwhelmed with the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This is still a lot for him but he's much more able to be a good boy for you now. He really wants to make you proud of him. He doesn't want you to think he's a bad boy for cumming without permission, because then you won't play with him again and he really doesn't want that. He wants to be your good boy. Your only good boy.

You know what he's begging for even if he doesn't voice it. You'll make him say it in a minute but right now you're seconds from a second orgasm and unless he says red you're not going to stop.

Even though the orgasm is yours entirely, Seungcheol moans when you do as he watches your face contort with utter bliss as your hips jerk over his length a few more times before falling still. It's not quite as powerful as your first orgasm, not when you're empty, but it's still intense and leaves you breathless.

Initially, you had planned to give yourself many more orgasms before letting Seungcheol cum but you genuinely think if you draw more than one more out of yourself, you'll pass out. You don't know if it's because it's been a while and you've been so pent up that it feels so mind-numbingly incredible, or if it's because of the thick cock pressed up against you.

“Colour?” You pant out when you feel ready to go again, eyes landing on Seungcheol.

He doesn't hesitate to answer this time but he finally sounds wrecked, voice hoarse and cracking a little with the simple single-syllable response. “Green.”

“Okay.” You push up and gently lift his cock up to line with you, applying as little pressure as possible to try not to give him too much too soon and overwhelm him in the wrong way. “Positive?” He nods rapidly so you begin to impale yourself again. His breaths come in one long juddering inhale as you slide down his length until he's sheathed inside of you.

“Please,” he goes right back to pleading, levelling you with such a begging, wet gaze that you know that this will not last long at all.

“Please what, baby?” You question, lifting to ride him slowly, now focused on him and him alone yet not wanting to push him over too fast. He looks too pretty like this; skin blotched with reds and pinks in a way that makes you wish you had discussed marks beforehand so that you could leave some lovebites on his pecs.

But you hadn't, and asking for permission at this point is utterly pointless, Seungcheol is too gone to be able to give full consent to anything new. You're pretty sure he'd say yes to anything right now so long as he can cum.

“Lemmecum.”

“Hm? What was that, speak clearly.”

Seungcheol whines and sniffles. “I wanna c-cum. P-please.” He blinks rapidly as the tears gathering in his eyes overflow and spill down his temples onto the pillow under him. “Please-please l-let me c-cum,” he chokes out, close to full-on sobbing.

You give in. You want to make him cry, not sob his poor heart out, after all. “You can cum,” you consent.

Seungcheol freezes for a split second in genuine shock, but then his eyes roll back and his back bows, biceps bulging as he grips the pillow so tight and pulls it up a little with the strength of his orgasm. He almost yells your name he moans so loud in pleasure and relief as the intense climax takes over his body.

You continue to move on him slowly to ride him through it, and then a little out the other side when he flops back against the sheets and raggedly sucks in harsh breaths with only short exhales. You'd continue with the intention to overstimulate him if he wasn't laid utterly boneless and not even reacting to you anymore. It's boring to overstimulate someone with no response, after all.

He doesn't even react when you carefully pull off of him and remove the condom to tie off and dispose of in the bin beside your bedside table. You stand beside the bed on weak legs for a second to watch him in wonder and decide that he truly is too out of it right now to even notice your presence; so you dart off to get a large glass of water and drink some yourself, and a damp cloth before returning.

Seungcheol is still lying there with his eyes closed though his breathing is evening out now when you place the cup on the side table and sit on the bed at his side. You carefully start to run the cloth over his sweat-damp body; a shower is really needed but that can wait a little.

Seungcheol makes a soft noise but doesn't react otherwise.

Finally, he opens his eyes when you return from taking the cloth back to the bathroom to toss into the hamper where you also clean between your thighs quickly.

“Hey,” you greet softly, laying down on your right propped up on your elbow at his side to look down at him as your left hand soothes over his chest.

“Hi.” He smiles softly at you, then tiredly rolls over to tuck up against you. You smile at the cute action and turn onto your back to allow him to curl up against your side with his head on your chest, his right arm and leg over you keeping you there. Not that you have any intention to move quite yet.

This is nice.

Your right arm goes around his back and into his hair to play with the strands while your left hand rubs over his forearm, gentle yet firm enough that he knows you're here and not going anywhere. “How're you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired,” he mumbles, making you laugh softly.

“Just tired?” He hums in confirmation. “So you're good otherwise? It wasn't too much?”

“No. M'good,” he slurs a little, signalling that he truly is tired enough that sleep is already starting to claim him.

“Yeah, you are. My good boy, huh?” You tease lightly and press a kiss to the top of his head. You're pretty sure you can feel his cheek bunch up against your skin as he smiles in return.

“Your good boy,” he confirms, voice so thick that you know there's no point trying to get him up to shower or eat, even drink despite knowing he really should. It'll have to wait until he wakes.

“Mm, yeah, sleep now baby, we'll talk more later,” you reply, though you're certain he's too close to slumber to really catch the warning.

Regardless, you know that once he's awake and you're certain that he's still genuinely okay, clean and fed, you'll have to talk. A lot has changed in such a short time and hopefully, he will confirm that it's nothing more than sex for him too because the alternative has dread pooling in your gut.

You can't do this again if it's not entirely equal and you kind of have the feeling that there's no going back now that you've had each other like this. Yet, if you can't go forward because of potential feelings on his side, then you're well and truly fucked and not in the way either of you want to be.

Still, that's not something you can discuss right now so you follow Seungcheol's lead and close your eyes. You just hope that when you open them, everything will be alright.

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sevikasvictim · 2 months ago

Text

Sevika Headcanons 𝜗𝜚

Unspoken Desires.

— 🦇 MDNI. stranger!Sevika x stranger!Reader. Fem reader btw. Tension. Alcohol & Drugs. She hates you at first lol. But that just makes the sex better later on. Self indulgent. Violence. NOT FLUFF. Kinda enemies to lovers ? Lowkey !bullySevika. SADIST SEVIKA. !cluelessReader. Slowburn dabble?? JEALOUSY. Possessiveness. Highkey abusive. No sex but suggestive ™️.

𖦹 When you talk to her, she thinks you sound like a naive child and wonders how you survived in the world with your personality.

𖦹 She thinks you’re weak and easy to snap [you are.] Eventually down the road she will prove that theory. She also thinks you’re pathetic and desperate for attention.

𖦹 She hates how you never stop asking questions, especially about why she looks so grumpy. Don’t even get me started when you two get paired to deal with some dirty work in the undercity. She once tried to bribe some zaunite to trade partners IN FRONT OF YOU.

𖦹 You’re always smiling which makes her want to smack the smile right off your face. She doesn’t understand how someone can be cheery all the time and she hates how close that energy is to her.

𖦹 She hates how clueless you are about everything and finds it annoying that you don’t seem to understand when you’re being insulted. She’s never had a conversation with you where she doesn’t have to hold herself back from saying anything snarky towards you.

𖦹 She secretly gets satisfaction from making you feel insecure and uncomfortable with her cold demeanor. You’ll think she’s finally warming up to you but in reality she is just thinking cruel insults to say to your face next and imagining that sad look on your face. She really enjoys mocking you. She likes to see the frown form on your face when she insults you.

𖦹 She’s probably secretly tried to get you wasted or high multiple times just to see you let loose and drop your “goody two shoes” act. With that being said, she often makes “jokes” about taking you out to a nearby bar to spike your drink. The look of terror on your face always gets a loud chuckle outta her. Her favorite joke to make is saying “I’ll get you drunk enough to do things you’ll probably regret” just to see your reaction. (🫠)

𖦹 Sevika laughs to herself about how you would probably be a sloppy drunk, stumbling over your words and giggling at everything. She can only imagine how you’d act when slurring your words and how it would probably drive her mad, but she’s dying to see it

𖦹 She finds herself subconsciously protective of you, making sure nobody hurts you or takes advantage of your super trusting nature. Tells herself it’s for everyone’s safety rather than admitting her locked up emotions.

𖦹 Drunk Sevika is still as mean and sarcastic as sober Sevika, only louder and with even less of a filter. She’s brutally honest, she loves mocking you and pointing out your every flaw she sees in you. She becomes bolder, her snarky remarks are harsher and she gets even more annoyed by your cheerful attitude. She’s extra touchy-feely when drunk, often leaning on you and invading your personal space like it’s nothing. [She reeks of whiskey and tobacco in your bubble. You can’t help but be drawn to it.]

𖦹 If you try to walk away she’ll just grab your arm and pull you back, wanting to keep her favorite target within reach. When Sevika grabs your arm, her grip on your wrist is tight and unforgiving. She loves to see the surprise in your eyes when she yanks you back and doesn’t let go, forcing you to stay in place. Even if you resist or try to pry her hand off, she tightens her grip and grins at your helpless efforts.

𖦹 Her sharp tongue is just as deadly as her punches as she mocks your every move, highlighting your weaknesses and gloating when she gets the upper hand. Throughout the entire fight, Sevika keeps a dark smirk on her face, enjoying having you at her mercy. She’s definitely enjoys fighting you while secretly trying to deny her growing feelings for you.

𖦹 As soon as you start crying, She leans in closer, her voice filled with cruel satisfaction as she says something like “awww, is little old me making you cry?” The smirk on her face gets wider and wider, enjoying your vulnerability as you cry in the middle of the fight. Sevika is loving every second of this, your tears are like fuel to her. She’s getting a rush from seeing you break down as she towers over you, still smirkin. “Aww, did I hurt you?” She mocks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you crying because of me? That’s cute.” “Maybe you should’ve thought twice before picking a fight with me. Now look at you, sniffling and sniveling like a pathetic wreck.”

𖦹 Sevika is caught off guard by your sudden distance She doesn’t like it, hates the sudden space and the lack of your presence. She’s annoyed and frustrated when you stay distant, probably thinking “why isn’t she chasing me? Why isn’t she trying to come closer?”

𖦹 You avoiding her makes Sevika more observant of you, her gaze constantly drifts to you whenever you’re near. She starts having thoughts she can’t quite explain, like maybe she misses the way you used to banter with her and how your carefree attitude would make her roll her eyes. Trying to figure out what’s going on in your head and what’s causing you to avoid her like this

𖦹 Sevika couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There you were, standing in some shady back alley, with another girl standing way too close to you for her liking, the girl’s hand grazing teasingly across your chest. Sevika’s eyes darkened as a wave of intense jealousy and anger washed over her. Without a second thought, she marched straight over to where you and the girl were standing, her footsteps echoing loudly against the damp pavement. As she drew closer, you and the girl seemed to notice her presence. Your eyes widened, the girl’s hand stilling on your chest . . . .

❥・・ ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈ ・・❥

Annnnnd that’s all folks. I might turn this dabble into an actual fic or something. This was super fun to do and if you made it this far we are besties. You lil freak.

#sevika x reader #sevika #arcane #arcane x reader #sevika headcanon #sevika arcane #sevika brainrot

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sigma-alpha-writer-chad · 3 months ago

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Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four

[CHAPTER THREE]

Italics = Events taking place prior to the "present day" of the story!

It had been a quiet day, so far. That morning was easily one of the best I'd had in who knew how long. Everybody had been leaving me alone. I was grateful for the peace and quiet, though I couldn't relax fully. Somebody had to be planning something. Despite the thoughts, I wanted to have a good day.

I really wanted to have one good day.

The cafeteria was big. Rows of long, rectangular tables were filled with middle schoolers chatting about their day and eating their lunches. Some had home packed lunches filled with goodies they could trade off for something better or in exchange for cheating off homework, and some children had the school lunch. It was pizza today. Square pies with cubes of pepperoni on them. Many people didn't like them but they were always one of my favorites.

I looked around me. I couldn't see anybody who would've wanted to pull something on me.

I couldn't see Josh.

It had been years since anyone else had done anything to me without him participating or sort of approving it. If he wasn't at school that day, I would be free for the day. It was the only explanation I had that day for the lack of terror I'd faced.

I stood in the line for the pizza and spotted my cousin, Chris, and his friend Ashley. I called for them, and they allowed a bunch of kids in front of them to move towards my spot in line.

"Hey, cousin," Chris greeted me. "Last year of lunch together, huh?" He was one year my senior, meaning next year he would be in high school, a building separate from mine. "Is that why you seem to be in such a good mood?"

"Yep, you keep saying," I responded as a grin grew across my face. "Poor Jordan, without her big cousin around. Whatever will the humble 8th grader-to-be do?"

"Celebrate?" Ashley chimed in. "No more Josh, right?" I smiled wider and nodded. Chris made a face at Ashley for bringing it up. He obviously wanted to say something, but didn't. We moved forward in the line.

"I can't wait to have some peace," I admitted. For a moment I wondered what it would be like. Would the teasing and pranks really stop, or would they just be exacted upon me by someone else? I shook the thoughts from my head, but not my smile.

"Josh isn't that bad," Chris defended. "He's my best friend. Why are you so mean about him?" My expression faltered slightly.

"Why is he so mean about me? Why are you always on Josh's side?" I retorted. "You're no better, really. You're just my less mean cousin." I crossed my arms. Day ruined. "I'm tired of always being the one who is upset and ruins everything when you guys are the ones who upset me in the first place." Chris's face turned red in embarrassment and frustration, and I could tell he felt guilty, as well. He pushed up his glasses.

"They're just jokes! It's not my fault you're just a cry baby 7th grader and nobody likes you." I frowned, hard, and my appetite was no longer.

"Where is this coming from?" I asked, tears brimming my eyes. Chris was always sensitive yet defensive in 8th grade, quick to bite if he felt cornered. I tried to remember what my mother had told me about when people are mean to you for no reason - that they feel bad about themselves. I could see Chris's expression drop when I started to cry. At that point, though, it'd meant nothing. Time and time again he or Josh or someone else would make me upset, he would feel bad as soon as I started to cry, and then do it again the next week.

I left the lunch line and made a beeline straight for my homeroom class. Mr. Brown would allow me to just sit at my desk during lunch if I'd wanted, so oftentimes that's what I did.

He greeted me as I entered, but said nothing else as I went to sit down. He was the only teacher who seemed to understand I didn't like to talk about the pranks pulled by my peers, especially because the school would do nothing about it anyways.

"Somebody left something for you in your desk," Mr. Brown said. His expression was soft and mildly worried, likely due to the obvious tears I had running down my face. "Should we look together?" My lips pressed into a thin line as I nodded and my heart rate picked up. He stood up and made his way towards me.

"Who left it?" I asked warily, standing up as to not be trapped if water sprayed out of the desk.

Again.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "They were in and out pretty fast. Had a hood up." He placed his left hand at the edge of my desk, where he could lift it up. "Ready?" I nodded, and he slowly lifted the desk.

It was a flower.

Mr. Brown and I stood completely still for a couple of seconds. I sniffled and slowly moved my hand away from my chest to reach for the white flower. It was a daisy. My favorite? Mr. Brown's eyebrows raised and gave way to an expression of delight as I picked up the daisy to show him.

"Is there a note?" He asked, peeking over the wooden top of my desk.

"Uhm..." I leaned forward to look back into the desk. There was a pink piece of paper folded about a million times to be as small as possible. This failed miserably, the paper being too thick to even stay closed. "Yeah, I think so." I took it out and observed the parchment.

"A secret admirer!" Mr. Brown gasped dramatically. It suddenly occured to me how nosey and curious my teacher was. My face grew hot as I opened up the pink letter. "What does it say?" I shot him a look. He put his hands up and backed away. "Ok, I get it." He teased and went back to his desk with a small smile on his face. I looked down at the pink note in my hands as my heart pounded in my chest. Was it really a secret admirer? Or another dumb prank?

The handwriting was atrocious.

'Jordan, I saw this flower outside and I thought it was pretty and maybe I heard one time it was your favorite so I picked it for you. Don't get the wrong idea because this isn't a secret admirer and nobody likes you that much, especially not me.'

I was taken aback by the note. What kind of a note was this? I thought back to one of the animes Chris likes that he'd made me watch. There was a really mean girl who was very mean to the boy she liked to hide her feelings. Was this the same? I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration, confusion, and flattery. I would have to show Chris later. I put the daisy inside the letter and waited for the day to be over.

---

Chris and I sit on the floor of my bedroom, chatting about his previous trips to the lodge and what it would be like.

"A lot of drinking. Like, so much. Josh and I usually pass out at least once," Chris babbles excitedly. Even though he seemed very hesitant at first, he'd quickly come around to my invite. "I'm actually really happy you're coming. The twins are stoked, y'know?" I smile at him, and he continues on. "They're the ones who started the idea. Everybody comes up and spends a few days at the lodge and we all just party. This will be the second or third year without parents though, I think."

"I feel like that's a safety hazard," I sigh, laying on my side and propping myself up with the palm of my hand. "What if someone gets hurt or goes missing?" Chris shrugs.

"Then we do what we can and we call the police," he states. I shrug as well. I wasn't satisfied with that answer, but I understood that no parents meant more freedom and fun for us young adults. I scoot a little closer to him, a mischievous smile creeping across my expression.

"So... No adults, at all?" Chris side eyes me suspiciously, not bothering to turn his head.

"No... Why?" I know he knows what I'm about to say.

"No reason, just... Y'know, Ashley." He smacks both of his hands over his face in embarrassment, his face growing redder by the second.

"Oh, my God, Jordan, not you too," he sighs in annoyance. "I really like Ashley, I really really do but can't we talk about anything else for once?" I smile wider and shrug.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Josh," My smile immediately fades. Chris shifts to match my position, laying his chin on his hand and laying on his side. "Let's talk about Josh."

"Why do you want to talk about Josh?" Chris has a small smile on his face as he shrugs, mocking my previous body language.

"I was surprised when he took you to the bathroom," he admits. He rolls over into his stomach, his jaw on both hands now as he kicked his feet behind him like a gossipping school girl. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah, I think he was just high, though," I say, chewing my lip. I can feel the tips of my ears redden. "You saw how he acted immediately afterwards, didn't you? The daggers he was glaring when I got invited to the lodge were sharp, man." I raise my eyebrows and move to mirror Chris.

"Daggers... Of love." He wiggles his eyebrows and makes a kissy face. I roll my eyes so hard it hurts.

"Ok, you watch too many soap operas or something," I laugh. My cousin sighs and rolls his own eyes. "Would you stop copying me?"

"Would you stop copying me?" I go straight faced and stare at him, hitting my swinging feet on the ground with a thud. He does the same, and a staring contest ensues. I squint. There's no way I was losing this. Time slows down, but luckily for me, I could already see Chris's eyes begin to water. I'm tempted to reach for his glasses slowly and take them off his face when his phone rings and he instinctively looks away, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Technicality," he groans as he stands up.

"A technicality is still a win," I gloat. I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. "Who is it?"

"It's your boyfriend," Chris teases.

"My abusive boyfriend," I snort. "What does he want?" he puts his finger up in a gesture to wait as he answers the phone.

"Hey man, what's up?" I mouth to Chris telling him to put the phone on speaker. He glares at me and mouths 'nosey,' tapping himself on the nose. I sigh dramatically and wait. "Yeah, I'm just at Jordan's house... Uh huh. Yeah. No, I'm spending the day with -" Chris sighs in frustration. "I'll ask her." I perk up. "Do you want to get pizza with Josh?" my eyebrow raises in suspicion and look Chris up and down. He rolls his eyes. "He only wanted me to come but I told him I'm not leaving you and so he's extending the invitation."

"Does he promise to be nice?" Chris puts the phone on speaker.

"Josh, do you promise to be nice?" he asks. There's silence before Josh laughs. A smile tugs at my lips, though I'm not sure why.

"Yes, Chris, I promise to be nice to Jordan." Chris looks at me, waiting for my response.

"Fine," I sigh dramatically. Chris smiles and gives me a thumbs up.

"Niiice, see you soon." Josh hangs up. A silence hangs between Chris and I. He sets his phone down and looks at the ground, twiddling his thumbs as if he's nervous, like he's about to say something he shouldn't.

"He doesn't hate you, you know," he says. I look up at him, but he doesn't meet my gaze. "I'm... I'm sorry, for... betraying you so often when we were kids." This takes me by surprise. Chris had changed, being kinder to me as we grew older, but I never expected an apology.

"I forgive you, Chris," I smile and stand up, giving him a hug. He hugs me back tightly and he lets out a breath he had been holding. "Don't apologize for Josh, though. He's not sorry."

"Still, Jordan, I meant it," Chris takes a step back, putting his arms to my shoulders and bending down slightly to look me in the eyes. "He doesn't hate you." I didn't know what to say.

"Chris, I don't know what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything. Let's just go get pizza. It's within walking distance."

"But it's cold outside."

"You have a coat." I groan dramatically as we start to leave, grabbing my coat.

---------

Chris opens the door for me as we walk into the pizza joint Josh had told us to meet him at. It was a homey, diner-like place with booths lined up against the walls for seating, bar stools at the bar, and a few circular tables for larger parties. In front of the bar was a sign that read 'seat yourself.'

"Looks like we beat him here," Chris mumbles. "Where do you want to sit?"

"A booth, by the window." I answer, walking ahead of him to take a seat at an empty booth near the back. Chris sits across from me and I furrow my eyebrows.

"What?" He asks. I don't want to tell him I'm worried Josh might sit next to me, so I shake my head and tell him nothing. A waitress comes to the table and lays a menu down. "Oh, we'll be a minute, we're waiting on somebody."

"Okay, hon, sure thing," she winks at Chris as she walks away. Chris shrugs off his thick coat to fall around his waist.

"Bro she wants you so bad," I say. Chris sighs, but he's smiling. "Hubba hubba." It had been an inside joke since our teenage years that every waitress or waiter wanted him. Of course, they didn't usually wink.

"Dude, guaranteed wife." He says, running his fingers through his hair dramatically, shaking his head. Suddenly the seat next to mine sinks, someone taking a seat next to me. Chris's eyebrow twitches in surprise and amusement.

"Hey, fellas," Josh grins, rubbing his hands together. "Pizza time? Did you guys order?"

"No, we waited for you, dude," Chris says. "I'm thinking just pepperoni, personally."

"Can we add some bacon on this bad boy?" Chris agrees, and both he and Josh look to me for an answer. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me rather intensely and gulp.

"Yeah, that sounds good." I smile. Josh tilts his head as if to see my face better and I feel my face grows warm with confusion and embarrassment. I ignore him, though I can tell he notices my flustered state by his wicked grin. I look at my cousin across the table, and his expression is that of surprise and curiosity. The waitress comes back, and we order.

Josh and Chris talk about the lodge. Past years, plans for this one. I feel a tinge of nerves and excitement. Everyone included talks so much about it, I don't know if I've ever done anything so hyped up. I'd never been to any huge events before, nor small, fun sleepovers with anyone other than Chris.

"So, Jordan," Josh snaps me out of my thoughts, bumping into me with his shoulder. I look at Josh, keeping my head tilted down shyly as I look up at him. He looks back at me, and I can see something in his expression I can't quite name. "Do you drink, or are you lame in that aspect, too?" He laughs and bumps me again. I frown.

"It's not my thing. I don't like being... Compromised?" I furrow my eyebrows, trying to find the words to explain myself. "I don't... I don't want there to be any opportunity for me to be taken advantage of in any way." There's many meanings to this for me. Someone could easily pull a cruel joke on me, film me vomiting and post it online, take me to the bedroom. Josh's smile fades.

"Is there anyone in particular you don't feel safe around?" He asks. I see Chris's eyebrows raised in surprise as he listens in, his eyes moving between Josh and I quickly as if anticipating what would come next. I'm surprised, too.

"What do you mean?" I ask, shifting in my seat uncomfortably.

"If someone is making you feel unsafe they're not invited." Josh states. His eyes are widened slightly and He's staring at me with an intensity I've never seen before. He's dead serious. I scan his face quickly. "Just say the word, Jordan, and it's done." I gulp.

"I-"

"Here you go, kids. Pepperoni and bacon, fresh out the oven! Be careful not to burn yourselves," the waitress says. She's very peppy and beautiful, a heavyset woman with curly brown hair draped over her shoulders and lipstick that was much too red for most, but perfect for her. We offer our thanks as she walks away. I glance back at Josh, who seems to have completely forgotten the intensity he was just showing me at the mention of my discomfort. Chris looks just as surprised as I am.

The pizza looks and smells amazing. The pepperoni was still sizzling, the grease popping. Chris, Josh and I are drooling and I realize just how hungry I was. It seemed torturous now to have to wait for it to cool down to avoid injury.

"Anyways, Jordan," Josh starts. I look at him again. "You don't have to drink, or whatever, even if it does accentuate your... your lameness." I frown again. "But no matter what, if anyone makes you feel unsafe please let me know... I've got no tolerance for that sort of thing."

"Do you promise not to prank me over the trip?" I ask, moving so that my body is facing him as much as it can in the booth. He does the same, straightening his posture as our knees touch. He doesn't move away from me.

"What?"

"Because that's my biggest concern, Josh, honestly," I admit. He seems taken back, glancing at Chris as if for help. "I don't want to wake up with my mattress in the woods or with a snake in my bed or rats in my coat pockets." I try to sound stern. Josh makes eye contact with me and doesn't look away. I almost shy away, but I hold. His eyes scan my face, for what I'm not sure. But it makes me nervous.

"Guys, you're freaking me out," Chris gulps. "Can we please just eat the pizza?" Josh's lips form a thin, straight line and he sighs, finally looking away from me.

"If it would make you feel safer and more comfortable and have more fun," Josh starts, placing his right hand over his heart and raising his left. "I will not pull a single prank on you." Chris's jaw drops. I open my own mouth to say something, and Josh puts some pizza into my mouth. It was hot, but just cooled down enough to eat. "Now eat." His face is darker, a light red dusting his cheeks. As I take the pizza from Josh, Chris and I lock wide eyes, the both of us shocked.

"Thank you," I say. Josh shrugs, his expression one of frustration and mild embarrassment.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't think too much into it," he sighs, his head turned away from me in an attempt to hide his expression. "Just don't want you to freak out and ruin the mood for everybody else." Instead of my normal frown, I smile to myself. This time, I had the feeling that he really was just trying to hide that he cared about me just a little bit - even if it was solely because I was his best friend's cousin. The number one sign that this was the case was still evident as I glanced under the table at my thighs.

Our knees were still touching.

-----------

Hey y'all, thanks for your patience waiting for the update. I work a LOT and on my one day off I'm busy, too. I try to have at least 3k words per chapter, so it takes a bit longer. Anyways, thank you!

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest

#josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x you #joshua washington #until dawn #until dawn x reader #x reader #fanfiction #this is an x reader just didn't want to write “y/n” a lot

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fobarchiveteam · 4 months ago

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The Fall Out Boy 2001 Demo... and the fact that there's actually two of them!

A few years ago, the wonderful Dave Hofer, who owns the DuPage County Hardcore Archive, uploaded the first Fall Out Boy demo from 2001 onto his archive, revealing its existence to the world. Dave was able to locate both a copy of the CD and the cassette versions of this demo, finding out that limited amounts of CDrs and around 100 cassettes were ever made. The CDr has uncut and unmastered versions of the recordings that later appear on the Project Rocket split, but the cassette contains completely different recordings for the first two songs, while an original song that is found nowhere else called “A Nice Myth” replaces Moving Pictures. The truth is that these are actually two separate demos: the cassette recordings came first. These demos were both made in 2001. For the first demo, the band consisted of Patrick on vocals, Pete on bass, Joe on guitar, and two other members who only lasted for a short time in the band: Ben Rose on drums, and John Flamadan on rhythm guitar. It was recorded on an 8-track in Ben’s basement. That 8-track was later turned into the cassette, of course. Both Ben and John left shortly after, and Jared Logan and TJ Kunasch replaced them on the CDr recordings respectively. What you may not know is there was an even rarer version of the CDr demo made: two types of lathe cuts.

These lathe cuts were posted on Discogs as pictures years before Dave’s discovery, so they sat dormant and undiscovered by FOB fans for a long time. After researching the cassettes and CDs for our archive, we stumbled upon these pictures and were perplexed that nobody has mentioned this version elsewhere before. Although this was not really a “new” discovery, we were still intrigued. We contacted the uploader of the picture, and this is what he had to say:

Hey!! Yeah it's honestly a crazy story on how I acquired it, but I believe it's legit. Basically, a few years back (I think 2018 or 19? The listing on the page for the clear version that sold for $0.50 or something crazy was from me, that's how I bought it). I messaged a guy on here that had the CD added in his collection if he would be willing to send me the mp3s/WAV files for his copy, and he did. We talked for a bit about the band and he said I seemed knowledgeable about the band and asked if I wanted his second copy of the lathe (he had two, one clear, one black). I obviously was like "hell yeah dude" and he said he would ship it to me. Fast forward a few weeks (he lived in Australia or some shit) and low & behold, I actually got the damn thing in the mail, plus two promo trading cards from the TTTYG album cycle, one with Andy & one with Joe. A few years later he messaged me that he got in touch with the dude that made the lathes for the band (he was based in Chicago which makes sense). Apparently 26 copies were cut & only 20 got labels thrown on them, members of the band slapped them on themselves. They were only in white paper sleeves, not any picture sleeves unfortunately. The sound quality on them is actually pretty decent for a lathe made in 2001, which is what leads me to believe it's legit. Also, like you had mentioned, the songs didn't leak until a few years back, when I got it I had never heard these versions (it's just the Project Rocket split versions uncut & unmastered essentially, same versions as the ones that leaked from the CD version. That is pretty much all the info I have on it, I hoped that helped some!!

Cheers from Florida - Jake

He later followed up with:

If I'm not mistaken, I believe the guy I got it from got both the clear and black copies verified to be legit by the guy that made them. Also small detail I forgot to include before, he obtained both copies through a lot of FOB merch from eBay. He was looking to get a complete set of TTTYG trading cards, which is why he bought it. But I know in the lot he also got the two lathes & a demo CD, I forget what else he had mentioned. It's odd that the band hasn't spoken of their existence, maybe they forgot? The lathes were probably more of a novelty item than anything, considering that vinyl wasn't very popular in 2001 & they weren't packaged as "properly" as the CDs & tapes, plus they made a lot less of them. I'm assuming they just kinda got tossed around between friends of the band or got sold at random at their early shows. Either way, it's been one of my prized possessions since I've acquired it, let me know if hou have any other questions on it haha

Currently we have no idea who this elusive Chicago lathe maker is, but maybe we may find out one day. These lathe cuts may possibly be the rarest FOB merch in existence.

Side note: The fact that the top title on the cassette specific insert says "Fallout Boy - Growing Up" and then later lists Growing Up as a song below, it may have been intended to be the title of the cassette, and the song was a title track. This is unconfirmed though.

#fall out boy #joe trohman #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #fob #chicago hardcore #evening out with your girlfriend #eowyg #fob patrick #fob pete #fallout boy #fob andy #fob joe

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Rainy Season - Part 3

Storm Warning

Azriel Eris x Reader

We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

3 months later

Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.

Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.

“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.

Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Followed by a yelp of “ow!”

Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.

Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.

Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”

The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”

So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.

The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”

Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.

The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.

“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”

She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.

Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?

Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”

Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.

“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”

“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”

“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”

Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”

“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.

—————

It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.

Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.

Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.

Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.

After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.

What an interesting method of meditation.

She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.

He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.

Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.

Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.

As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.

“What do you want?” She spat.

Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”

Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.

“Only within the palace.”

“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.

“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.

“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”

Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”

Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“

Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.

“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.

“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”

She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”

She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.

“Good. Hold for three beats.”

“Now let the breath out.”

She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”

As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.

“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”

She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.

He only let out a soft laugh.

“There she is.”

She scowled in return.

“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.

“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”

Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.

Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.

He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”

She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“

“I had one too. I believe you know her.”

—————

Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.

He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.

As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.

Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.

Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.

She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.

Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.

She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.

As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.

Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.

Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.

Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.

“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”

“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.

“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.

He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.

“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”

Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.

“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”

Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.

He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.

“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”

She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”

As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.

His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.

Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”

Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”

She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”

They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”

Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.

With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.

They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.

He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.

The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”

She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.

No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.

————————

This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #eris x reader #summer court #tarquin #eris vanserra #eris x oc #eris vandaddy #inspired by Hunter Hayes #storm warning Hunter Hayes

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kiwanopie · 11 months ago

Text

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

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