#I was actually struggling while writing the kiss scene | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dazevi · 2 months ago

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baby, can i? | vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (18+ mdni) wc: 6k

synopsis: vi guides you through your first time. | masterlist

content warnings: modern au!, tiniest mention of hockey player!vi, virgin!reader/inexperienced!reader, experienced!vi, soft top!vi, needy vi, nsfw/smut; consent is sexy!!!!!!, kissing/making out, little bit of perverted vi, soft sex, fingering and oral (r!receiving) slight overstim, bit of praise kink for both reader and vi, a little sappy tbh

note: ok wait this actually is really sappy/cheesy/whatver ummm but i hope u like it (also i might be on a writers high a little bit > got a request for bartender!vi andi am very excited to write about it)

It was all innocent at first—a movie you chose playing on the TV in Vi’s apartment, her chin resting lightly on your shoulder, her thumbs gently brushing circles against your sides, and ever so often, her lips grazing the top of your head in fleeting, soft kisses. You were tucked between her legs, your back resting against her chest, and her arms were securely wrapped around your waist possessively, not wanting you to move away from her.

You were watching the movie—or at least, you were trying to.

But Vi wasn’t making it easy.

She’d been unusually affectionate all evening, her hands sneaking under the hem of your sweater to rest directly on your skin. They weren’t wandering; she wasn’t teasing you like she sometimes did.

No, this was different.

Her fingers were just there, pressed against your stomach as if she needed to feel the warmth of you. She was quiet, which wasn’t unusual when she was in one of these soft, clingy moods, but you could feel her every breath against your back, her chest rising and falling steadily. In different minutes, she would shift slightly, her legs tensing around you as if she were adjusting, but really, you knew it was just an excuse to pull you closer.

“Comfy?” she asked after a while, her voice low and soft in your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmured back, turning your head slightly to look at her.

She only smiled.

“What?” You smiled back, a soft giggle falling from your lips.

Vi shook her head, placing a tiny kiss to your shoulder, “Nothing.”

She was so close, her face inches from yours, her eyes glinting in the flickering light of the TV. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and when she caught you looking at her, she tilted her head, her expression softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

Vi had been head over heels for you from the start, though she’d never admit how fast it all happened.

She prided herself on being smooth, confident, and a little cocky—someone who always knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to make the girls swoon. And it worked for her, for the most part. Vi had never struggled to get attention; her charm, confidence, and maybe sometimes even her muscles, did most of the talking before she even opened her mouth.

But none of that prepared her for you.

When you first started dating, Vi tried to play it cool. She told herself she’d keep it casual, keep things easy. But then you smiled at her like she’d hung the moon, and that was it. Vi fell hard—headfirst, without a parachute—and it terrified her.

She couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying every moment you spent together like they were the best scenes in a movie she never wanted to end. Every time you laughed, her chest felt too tight, like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her ribcage just to reach you. She didn’t even realize how deep she was in until one day she caught herself thinking about you in the middle of practice, her teammates yelling her name because she’d missed the puck for the third time.

She told herself it wasn’t a big deal. People fell in love all the time, right?

Right?

And that scared her more than anything. Because Vi wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. She was used to being in control, to calling the shots, to knowing exactly where she stood. But with you, she felt like she was walking a tightrope, one misstep away from falling so deep she might never recover. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because as much as you terrified her, you also made her feel alive in ways she never thought possible.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid to admit that someone else had her completely, utterly, helplessly wrapped around their finger.

And, truth be told, you’re not exactly experienced when it came to sex.

The first time you told her, it took Vi by surprise.

She had been getting touchy one day, as she always did when she was around you, teasing you with little brushes of her fingers against your skin, her lips grazing your neck as she whispered something playful in your ear. She could sense the way you tensed up, not in a way that made her think you were uncomfortable, but… uncertain.

“I—uh, I’m not really… experienced with all this,” you had admitted, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, eyes glancing away, as if ashamed to even say it aloud. “I’ve never… done it with someone before.”

Vi froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t thought that you might be nervous about something so natural to her. Vi had been with plenty of people, experienced in more ways than one, but she’d never really stopped to think about someone who was new to it all, someone who might feel hesitant or unsure. She paused, but then the softest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at you softly.

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle as she cupped your face with her hand, guiding your gaze back to hers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not in a rush. We’ll go at your pace, baby.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your stomach still there, but hearing her words made it feel a little easier to breathe. She didn’t judge you. She didn’t make you feel small for being inexperienced. She understood your vulnerability because, in a way, she felt it too.

“I’m really into you,” Vi had said, her voice soft but sincere. “All I care about is being with you. So, if we go slow—if you need time—then we go slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kept her word.

She let you set the pace, kissed you slow and gentle, her hands always asking for permission before they moved anywhere further. When you’d get nervous, when you’d pull back, she’d smile at you, brushing your hair from your face, whispering how beautiful you were, how much she liked being close to you. She was kind of shocked herself. She had the patience to listen, the kind of patience she’d never thought she’d have for anyone, but for you? She’d have it for a lifetime if you needed her to.

But god, sometimes, it was really fucking hard.

She wanted to fuck you so bad.

Vi was, above all else, just a woman—a woman with desires that had been left unchecked for far too long. Everything you did made her heart race, made her head spin. You were so fucking pretty. It was almost unbearable. Vi wanted to get lost in you, wanted to feel her lips all over your skin, wanted to explore every inch of you until she knew you as well as she knew herself.

And she respected your boundaries more than anything. She wanted you to feel safe with her, to feel cherished, to feel like there was no rush.

But god, it was hard.

Every time you turned to her and smiled that soft, shy smile, when your fingers brushed against hers so innocently, it felt like you were silently asking for more—though you weren’t. The way you looked at her sometimes, the way you held her gaze when your lips brushed against hers, made it nearly impossible to keep herself in check.

In different situations, at a party, or even just in her apartment or yours, she’d excuse herself for a moment, retreating to the bathroom or something, just to compose herself. She’d close her eyes and huff a hard and heavy sigh, shamelessly picture it all in her head until it drove her insane. Then, she’d go back to you, a bit more touchy and loving, standing even closer than before, unable to get her eyes to look away from you. She’d smile that charming smile of hers when you turn to look at her and tell you it was nothing—even though it wasn’t nothing. Not when her eyes would keep falling to your soft lips, her hands itching at her sides to touch you in places people aren’t allowed to see, and her jaw clenching at the sight of you in such a pretty dress or whatever outfit you decided to put together that day.

Vi wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, she was just someone who wanted to touch you, to hold you, to feel your body pressed against hers. Every time you looked up at her, those soft eyes that sparkled when they met hers, she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss you, to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

But she holds herself back every time. And she’s quite proud of herself, actually.

Tonight, though, something felt different.

Vi couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt it deep in her bones. It wasn’t just the heat in the room or the way the soft glow of the TV flickered against your skin. It was the how you’d been leaning into her a little more tonight, just enough for her to notice the subtle shift in your body. And it wasn’t like before, when you’d shift away slightly or look at her with wide, hesitant eyes, unsure of the closeness.

Tonight, you didn’t do that. You leaned in closer.

Vi’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of your body pressing against hers. Her breath caught, the movie fading into the background as her attention narrowed to you. To the way your body fit so perfectly against hers. Her hand, which had been lazily resting on your waist, hands underneath your sweater, now slid lower, just a little bit—no big deal, just a gentle touch—but the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, made her pulse race. You didn’t look uncomfortable.

In fact, you looked like you were… waiting. Like you wanted her to touch you more.

Vi wasn’t one to back down from anything, but she had always been patient with you. Yet tonight, she felt the urge to push those boundaries just a little. Her fingertips slid from your waist to your hip, feeling the curve of you, the warmth of your skin beneath the soft fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you still didn’t pull away. Instead, your back arched just enough for her to notice, and your eyes flickered up to meet hers. That same shy smile of yours tugged at her heartstrings.

You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Vi could swear there was something more in your gaze—something that matched the heat she felt rising inside her.

She could feel her chest tighten with as thoughts of you—only you—filled her mind.

She wanted you. So badly.

Her breath came out in soft, breathless whimpers, and your name—your sweet, simple name—fell from her lips like a prayer.

“Baby…” she whispered against you, closing her eyes and letting out soft sigh.

It was so desperate, so soft.

There was no mistaking the need in her voice, the way her breath quickened, the raw hunger she was trying so hard to control, to be gentle with you, but it was obvious to you now that she was practically using every bone in her body to stay patient.

You could feel it in every inch of her, in the way her hands trembled just slightly, in the way her breath hitched as shelingered just out of reach of the place you both knew she desperately wanted to touch.

She dropped her head to your shoulder, her forehead resting gently against the soft curve of your neck as if she was trying to hide her feelings, to keep herself under control, but you could feel it in the way her body tensed, in the way her hands hovered close to you, shaking with the effort of keeping her restraint. She was trying so hard to stay composed, to be gentle, but it was clear she was on the edge, barely holding it together.

She wanted you. Needed you. And her restraint was slipping away with every passing second.

“Vi…”

At the sound of your voice, so soft and gentle, Vi’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. Her eyes were wide, waiting, like she’d been waiting for this moment, for you to say something—anything—to pull her back in. She looked almost like a puppy, the look on her face soft and eager, her lips slightly parted as if she were holding her breath, waiting for you to speak again.

She searched your eyes desperately, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you wanted, because nothing else mattered more.

“I’m here,” she breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She wanted you to know she was all in—her mind, her body, her heart. She was yours. And in that moment, it felt like nothing could tear her away from you.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked, the words falling from her lips desperately. “Tell me… please.”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat the moment you turned to face her, your eyes locking with hers as if everything else in the room disappeared. The movie was long forgotten by now and for a split second, Vi forgot how to breathe. God, you were so fucking pretty. She couldn’t help but melt as you reached up to gently brush a strand of her hair from her face.

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to let out a shaky breath as you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in the softest kiss she’d ever felt. It was sweet, but there was something more beneath it—something deeper.

You pulled away just enough for Vi to feel the coldness of the space left between you, and she immediately chased after your lips like a starved thing, her breath coming quicker, hands gripping your waist. Every inch of her body begged for you, aching to feel you pressed against her, to get closer, to melt into you until nothing else existed. She wanted more—needed more.

And then, your voice, soft and quiet, broke through the haze of her thoughts.

“I want you, Vi…” you whispered.

Your words were soft, almost shy, but they sent a wave of heat crashing through Vi’s chest. Her breath hitched at the sound of your voice, her heart racing even faster.

It was all she needed to hear.

She was lost in you, in the way you made her feel. She melted against you, her hands roaming up your sides, pulling you closer, her lips finding yours once again. This time, it was deeper, needier. She wanted you, more than she’d ever wanted anyone before. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was both too much and not enough. Vi pulled you closer into her lap, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck,” she whispered, voice shaky, a low groan escaping her throat as she pulled you even closer, her hands cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You could feel it—the heat building low in your stomach, the wetness pooling in your panties, spreading through your body in waves with every touch of Vi’s hands on your skin. Her grip was firm, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist like she was trying to memorize you. You gasped softly as she shifted you higher in her arms. It was impossible not to react to her—the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, the way her voice dropped low and raspy when she whispered your name.

Vi couldn’t focus on anything else but you—your soft breath against her lips, your body pressed so close to hers, the way your fingers brushed against her skin. The movie was nothing but background noise now, and all she could think about how you felt, how you tasted, and how much she wanted you.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Vi pulled you closer, your legs straddling her waist. She could feel the weight of your body, the warmth of your skin, and the softness of your touch. You were everything she wanted and more, and Vi’s breath caught as she watched your eyes flicker with the same heat, the same desire that had been building for what felt like forever.

“Need you…” she whimpered, her voice low and needy, her hands already moving to settle more firmly around your waist.

She didn’t give you a moment to think before she stood up, lifting you with ease, her strong arms, muscles flexing, supporting you as if you weighed nothing, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist, your arms around her neck, and the heat of your body pressed against hers, the way you fit perfectly, like you were made to be in her arms. She could feel your pulse against her chest, your body trembling just slightly as she carried you through her apartment, heading toward the one place that she knew would be safe—her bedroom.

Vi’s hands moved carefully as she gently laid you down against her bed, her touch lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary. Her body hovered over yours, but she didn’t lean in right away. She paused instead, pulling back slightly to look at you. And god, the way she looked at you—it was like nothing else existed in the world except for you.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks under her gaze, her eyes roaming your face. Vi wasn’t in a rush now, even if her body ached for you. She could feel her heart pounding, her breath uneven as she just… stared. You looked so fucking pretty, she thought, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Her hands moved absently as she tugged at the hem of her own shirt, a random band tee she got on one of her birthdays, pulling it off in one quick motion and tossing it to the side without a second thought. Her toned body caught your attention immediately, and you felt your breath hitch as your eyes lingered on the taut muscles of her arms and the faint scars across her torso. But Vi didn’t even notice… not when her focus was entirely on you. She leaned back slightly, giving herself just enough room to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, like the words weren’t meant for you to hear but spilled out anyway.

She reached for you again, her hands sliding over your waist as her thumbs brushed over your hips, thumbs tugging slightly on your shorts. Her mind was spinning, her heart hammering in her chest as she hovered over you. The reality of the moment hit her hard, making her stomach flip over and over.

Is this really happening? she thought, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on either side of your waist. Her throat tightened as she struggled to process it all. You’re really going to let me do this? You’re really trusting me like this?

She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as her eyes roamed over your face. You were looking up at her with so much trust, and it was almost too much for her. Her chest ached in the best way, and a nervous, breathless laugh almost bubbled out of her throat. Vi was confident—she always had been—but this? This was something else entirely. This was someone she adored more than she could put into words, giving her something so special, so intimate, that she started to question if she even deserved it.

What did I do to deserve this? she thought, her mind racing. What did I do to deserve her?

Her palms grew clammy, nervous, and for a split second, she wondered if she was going to pass out from sheer excitement. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts—how to take her time, how to make it perfect, how to make sure you felt as loved and cherished as you deserved, as you made her feel.

“Vi,” you whispered softly, and she blinked, her trance breaking for just a moment as her eyes locked with yours.

Your breath caught as you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against her cheek. And as she dipped her head down, her lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss, you knew you were ready.

Vi’s fingers trembled slightly as they toyed with the hem of your shirt as she pulled back from the kiss for a moment. Her eyes darted between yours and the fabric she was clutching, her lips parted as though she was trying to find the right words.

Finally, she managed to ask, her voice low and almost shy, “Can I take this off?”

The eagerness in your nod made her breath hitch, and a soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, sounding almost disbelieving.

“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks pink and her grin wide as she tugged at your shirt gently, pulling it over your head.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, her voice almost reverent as her hands came to rest gently on your waist again.

And she… stared again. Here eyes traced every curve and dip of your exposed skin. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. You blushed hard as the seconds pass, squirming slightly under her gaze, biting your lip as you glanced away, feeling shy.

“Vi… Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, but Vi didn’t listen.

Instead, she laughed, lie and warm, and dropped her head to your shoulder. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Sorry, baby… Can you blame me?” she murmured, her breath tickling your neck as she continued, “I’ve got the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen… looking up at me… waiting for me…”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as you playfully shoved at her shoulder.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice betrayed the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

She smiled cheekily and lifted her head just enough to press a quick kiss to your neck, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. Her hands moved with softly as they slipped to the waistband of your shorts, her fingers brushing against your skin so lightly it sent shivers up your spine. She paused for a moment, as if giving you the chance to stop her, her gaze flickering back up to meet yours.

When you didn’t protest, only nodding softly with a nervous but eager look in your eyes, Vi let out a small, breathy laugh, the sound filled with both excitement and disbelief.

“Wanna make you feel good,” she murmured, more to herself than to you, and then she began to tug your shorts down your legs slowly.

Her calloused fingers grazed against the soft skin of your thighs as she worked them down. She didn’t rush, like she wanted to savor the moment, the sight of you beneath her, the way your breath hitched every time her fingers skimmed too close. She let the fabric fall to the floor before leaning back slightly, taking you in with wide, almost awestruck eyes.

“Perfect,” she whispered, her voice low and thick with emotion. Her hands rested on your knees, gently spreading them apart just enough for her to slip between your legs.

Her breath hitched as her eyes lingered on the damp spot on your panties. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue brushing over them. Her hands trembled just a little as she reached up, fingers grazing the straps of your bra.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice low and soft.

You nodded, cheeks flushing as Vi carefully unhooked your bra and helped slide it off your shoulders. She tossed it aside, but her focus stayed entirely on you. Her gaze roamed over your tits, her hands smoothing up your sides. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your chest, then another lower, and another, her lips trailing down the valley between your breasts.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered against your skin, her voice filled with awe and something deeper—something that made your heart race. Her kisses became firmer, needier, and you felt her nose nuzzle against the swell of your tits as she breathed you in, the pads of her thumbs softly rolling over your hard nipples.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, your fingers threading through her short pink hair as her mouth moved lower, leaving hickeys as she went. Vi looked up at you briefly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as though she was about to say something. But instead, she simply smiled—soft and a little smug—and leaned back in, pressing another kiss to your lips that made your toes curl.

Vi’s voice was barely above a whisper, soft and warm against your skin as her fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.

“Can I?” she asked, her thumbs hooked around the waistband, tugging gently, as though she was testing your reaction before going any further.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her blue eyes searching, waiting for your answer. You nodded slowly, the movement almost shy, and Vi let out a soft, shaky breath, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“Yes, please…”

She smiled and hummed, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. Her fingers moved carefully, sliding your panties down your hips and over your legs, and the moment they were gone, she tossed them aside, her eyes never leaving you.

“I love you…” she murmured so quietly as she leaned back in, her hands settling on your thighs, pushing them apart to get a better look at your pussy. “So pretty…”

She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, her lips lingering, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands, strong but gentle, rested on your knees as she eased them further apart, creating even more space for herself.

Her lips lingered just above your skin, her warm breath fanning against you as she whispered, “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You looked down at her, her face framed by the dim light filtering in, her pink hair tousled and her eyes staring with need and want, waiting for permission.

“I will,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. Your fingers instinctively moved to thread through her hair, pulling her just a little closer. “I trust you, Vi.”

Vi smiled softly at your words, and the sight made your chest tighten.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, her lips brushing your skin again, and then she kissed you, slow and deep, as her hands moved to hold your thighs, her thumbs tracing lazy circles over your skin.

Her breath hitched as her fingers dipped lower, finally brushing against the wetness that had been teasing her imagination all night. When she felt just how slick you were, her chest rose and fell with a shuddering sigh, her lips parting in awe.

“Fuck…” she whispered, her voice breaking softly as she let the sensation sink in.

Her forehead rested briefly against your thigh, and you could feel the way her breath trembled, betraying just how much she’d been holding back. You squirmed beneath her touch, your breath catching at the slow pressure of her fingers as she explored you. She looked up at you then, her eyes heavy-lidded.

“You’re so wet,” she whispered.

Her fingers teased along your folds, and when she finally slid one inside, the quiet, shaky groan that escaped her lips sent a jolt of heat through you. Your soft moan filled the room, and it sent a shiver straight down Vi’s spine. The way you reacted to her touch, the way your body seemed to move with hers—it was intoxicating. She couldn’t stop herself from curling her finger inside of your pussy, and the sound you made in response nearly undid her completely.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours as her finger moved slowly, her thumb grazing over your skin. “I wanna know… everything.”

Your voice came out in a shaky breath, soft and airy as you tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

“F-feels good, Vi—” you managed to whisper, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

Vi’s breath hitched at your words, a flicker of pride and hunger lighting in her chest. She wanted to do good. For you. She paused only for a moment, her eyes never leaving your face as she carefully added another finger. The stretch was new, different, and it made you gasp sharply, your body tensing for just a second before melting into her bedsheets.

“Yeah?” Vi asked, her voice low and raspier now, almost shaking with how much she wanted to do this right, to make you feel good.

Her lips brush over the soft skin of your inner thigh as she fucked her fingers deeper into your pussy, curling just right. Your moans spilled out, filling the room, and Vi felt her entire body tremble with excitement.

“God, you’re so tight,” she groaned, her movements growing a little more confident as she found a pace that made your hips buck and your head fall back.

She quickened her pace, completely entranced by you. The way your face twisted in pleasure—cheeks flushed, mouth parted with those soft moans—sent a bolt of heat straight through her. She couldn’t look away.

She whimpered softly as her thumb circled your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from you that sent a wave of pride through her. But what really did her in was how fucking wet you were, the way it coated her fingers, the lewd squelching sounds filling the room with every thrust. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach flipped as she watched her fingers disappear inside you over and over again.

“Oh, fuck,” Vi murmured, her voice husky and low, almost as if she were talking to herself. “You’re so—so wet… baby, I—”

She cut herself off with a groan, unable to even form a coherent sentence, too lost in how good you felt clenching around her fingers. Her thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing slow circles that had your back arching and your hands clawing at the sheets.

You looked so fucking pretty, it made her head spin.

Vi’s breath was shaky as she moved her fingers faster, desperate to pull you over the edge. Her thumb never faltered, pressing and circling your clit with just the right pressure.

She leaned closer, her forehead brushing yours, her voice soft but needy as she whimpered, “Tell me how good it feels, baby. Please… I need to hear you.”

Your moans spilled from your lips like music to her ears. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t slow down—not when she felt the way your wet pussy fluttered around her fingers, not when she could see how close you were.

“It’s so good, Vi—oh my god, it feels so good,” you managed to gasp, your voice breaking as your hips bucked against her hand.

Her focus entirely fixated on you, on the way your body responded to her touch. Her biceps flexed with every thrust into your pussy, the veins in her arms standing out as she poured herself into the task of making you fall apart. She groaned softly as she watched her fingers disappear into you, only to reappear glistening and slick before plunging back inside. The sound of it—the wet squelch—had her nearly delirious.

“So fucking pretty like this, baby.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers curling with precision, hitting that spot that had your back arching off the mattress. Your moans grew louder, less controlled, and Vi swore she could feel your body trembling as your thighs quivered against her.

“V-Vi! I-I’m gonna… cum! Gonna cum—“

“That’s it, pretty girl,” she rasped, her lips parted as she leaned closer, her forehead brushing against your stomach. She looked up briefly, her eyes dark as she took in the sight of you. “You’re so close—I can feel it. Cum for me, yeah? Please, I need to feel you.”

And then it happened.

Your body arched, your moans spilling out in broken cries as you clenched tightly around her fingers. Vi groaned loudly, the sound guttural and needy, as she felt you come undone around her. But she didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers kept moving, her thumb circling your clit as she worked you through every wave of pleasure, desperate to draw it out for as long as she could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she whispered, her voice shaky and reverent. “You’re so good for me, baby. So, so good.”

Vi let out a breath, a soft sigh of disbelief, as she pulled her fingers from you slowly after she let you ride out your high, her gaze never leaving your face. Her fingers were glistening with your cum, and she couldn’t help but stare in awe. The way you looked—completely undone, lost in pleasure—had her feeling like she was floating, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in.

Blue eyes traced the curve of your body, watching the way your skin glistened with sweat. She couldn’t help it—her mind blanked, a single thought echoing through her: God, she’s so fucking pretty. She was overwhelmed, feeling like she could never get enough of you, of the way your body responded to her, how perfect you were in her eyes, like you were made just for this. Every movement, every little breath, it was all just… mesmerizing.

She brought her fingers up and slid slowly them into her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she savored the taste of you on her tongue. Oh, fuck! She needed more. Without thinking, her hands moved quickly, spreading your thighs further apart and her voice came out in a soft, needy whisper.

“Gotta taste you… just real quick,” she murmured so quietly, you barely heard it.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could process anything else, your body already reacting before your mind caught up. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in the strands of Vi’s pink hair, pulling hard, making her groan right into your wet pussy.

This was when you learned that Violet was a messy eater.

Her tongue pressed against folds, inside of you, occasionally sucking around your clit, the feeling of her mouth, wet and needy, sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but notice how she lost herself, her sounds louder and messier than you’d expected—like she was devouring you. She slurped everything up and you could feel yourself dripping and soaking her bedsheets beneath you.

God, her tongue felt so fucking good. It was almost too good. Fuck, she’s so good at this.

“V-Vi—” you cried out, your voice trembling, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

You tugged at her hair to let her know you were close, that you were going to cum again, and she didn’t slow down. If anything, it only spurred her on, her mouth sucking and slurping more and more, faster and harder. You cried out, the tension building in your lower body, and before you could even process it, she quickened her pace, her hands shifting from your thighs to intertwine with yours. The way she gripped your hand made you feel like she was holding you in place, ensuring you couldn’t pull away, even if you tried.

“I-I’m cumming again—Fuck—Vi-Violet!”

With a final gasp, your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing over you. The wave hit you all at once, and you came right on her tongue, your breath ragged, moans slipping from your lips uncontrollably. Vi held you through it, her grip on your hand tightening, her tongue slowing down on your pussy.

After a while, she finally lifted her head up and looked at you, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with exhaustion, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Her face was flushed, her skin slick with sweat, and her chin glistened with your cum, like she was wearing it with pride.

She moved slowly, her lips trailing up your body. Her kisses were gentle at first, but the further she traveled, the more urgent they became, each one pressing deeper against your skin, right over each mark and hickey are left behind earlier. She kissed your stomach, your ribs, each kiss a little firmer, a little more hungry, until she reached your chest, her breath mingling with the heat of your skin.

When she finally reached your neck, she paused, her breath shaky against your skin, and you felt the faintest tremor under her fingertips. Then, without warning, she was kissing you again, her lips pressing against yours with a hunger that mirrored the one she’d just left between your legs, whimpering and moaning right into your mouth. You could taste yourself on her lips, a faint sweetness that made your pulse quicken all over again.

When the kiss broke, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. Vi pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy-lidded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed down at you.

“I love you,” she said.

You barely caught your breath, the lingering aftershocks from everything that had just passed through your body.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say, the words coming out breathlessly.

Her smile softened, her gaze melting into something tender as she stared down at you.

She bit her lower lip nervously before asking, “Did I do okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile lovingly at her, your heart swelling with affection. Without a word, your hands reached up to brush the mess of pink hair from her face, the softness of the gesture grounding you both in the moment. Her hair was tangled, strands sticking to her skin, but she was beautiful—more than beautiful, especially in this moment where everything felt real and raw.

“It felt… so good, Violet… You were perfect,” you whispered.

She held your gaze, her eyes flickering relief and pride. You leaned up slightly, brushing your lips against her forehead in a tender kiss, as if to reinforce what you’d just said. Perfect. In every way.

Vi’s lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile as she heard you, and you couldn’t help but notice the gleam in her eyes—proud, almost playful, like she knew exactly what she had just done to you. Without missing a beat, she leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck. She let herself collapse on top of you, her body heavy and warm, her muscles wrapping around you firmly. She nuzzled her face into your neck, her breath warm against your skin, close to your ear.

“I… I’m gonna let you rest, but…” Her voice was quiet, almost shy. She paused, just for a moment, before continuing, her words sending a thrill through you, “I wanna go again...“

You looked up at her, eyes widening slightly as you tried to catch your breath. Your arms wrapped around her loosely around her neck, your fingers brushing the hairs at the back of her head. Vi sighed at the feeling, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to look at you, to plead with her eyes.

“Can we?”

That playful, confident side of her was back again, and you knew then, with absolute certainty, that you were in for a very long night.

thank u for reading :) | masterlist

#b’s writings #vi <3 #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane x reader #league of legends #fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

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Ford with a crush or an s/o thats just OBSESSED with his hands? and I mean OBSESSED

cant get enough of touching them, holding/intertwining them, kissing them, cupping their own face with him hand with theirs on top, bonus points if they get flustered when he holds/touches them and just him doing random stuff with his hands

and maybe a scene where they tell him how much they love his hands?

i love ur writings!!

Ford was ostracised for his hands, so much so that he always kept them shoved deep into his pockets whenever he went anywhere to avoid being made fun of anymore then he already was.

So when you came into his life and saw his six fingers, he thought you were going to be no different then anyone else who’s seen them, only to be surprised when you gingerly held his hand with a smile upon your face as you said. ‘You’ve got a beautiful pair of hands on you, hope that doesn’t sound too weird of me to say.’

It wasn’t, it was the furthest thing from weird for Ford as he found himself taken aback while you continued to admire his hands as though they were works of god themself!

Ford couldn’t believe his ears! Someone actually liked his hands, not bothered at all by the fact he had an extra finger, but instead adored them as you could barely stop yourself from gracing your fingers across each and every one of them; starting from his knuckle and all the way down to the tip of his fingertip while whispering words like ‘beautiful’ ‘unique’ and ‘amazing’ under your breath while doing so.

If this man didn’t already have a crush on you, then he most certainly did whenever you took his hands into your own and give them the love they were denied unconditionally, all the while his heart leapt into his dry throat that struggled to make any noise never less the ability to vocalise his never ending wonder regarding your fascination with his hands.

Something that would remain a mystery to Ford unless you felt comfortable disclosing with him in the nearby distant future, hopefully together as romantic partners.

His face was as red as cherries and his eyes would barely meet yours as a outcome, with his only responses to you being awkward chuckle and his glasses becoming askew on his face but being unable to push them up since you’ve held his hands hostage.

Imagine the noise that would break from his mouth the moment you began to get bold and start kissing his fingers, wrists and the rest of his hands in general, all the while being them up to your face to cup your warm cheeks as you smiled into his palms they could feel the heat radiating from your skin.

It was a sight that Ford wishes he could keep engrave in his mind for the rest of his life, but didn’t want to seem weird by you if you were to see the way he looked at you so fondly.

Ford would soon find that you would even become flustered when he was going the smallest and simplest things he did with his hands, and he only found this out when he innocently rested his hand on your waist to get something nearby, only to feel you subconsciously lean towards his touch as though it was the only thing to ground you.

Ford had even caught you shamelessly looking at his hands as he fiddled with his pen, pencils and other objects that he was holding at the time, and would become a bit bold himself by doing some cool trick he learnt as he rather liked having your attention on him whenever he could. So much so that he would leave little bits and bobs about the lab and house for the sake of having something to entertain his fidgety hands.

He would even use the knowledge of how you seem to melt under his touch by placing his hand on your shoulder in greeting, or on your elbow to gently pull you away when he felt you’d be put in any dangerous situations for your protection. Ford wouldn’t say it aloud but he did liked that you seemingly melted like butter from his touch, it made him think that his feelings were reciprocated in some regard; However he wasn’t one to hold onto a fantasy that’ll never become reality until you tell him yourself.

Everything came to light one afternoon where you and Ford were sat on porch of the mystery shack, shoulder to shoulder, as your hand was intertwined with his own with his sixth finger encasing your hand.

‘My dear I hope you don’t mind me asking but this has been on my mind for quite a while now, since we met actually, but what do you find so interesting about my hands?’ Ford finally asks. ‘For all my life I’ve been ridiculed for my six fingers, but then you come along and look at them with love and kindness, so much so the to can’t help but wonder why.’

You smiled softly at him as you squeezed his hand. ‘They’re beautiful Ford.’ You answered simply. ‘Your hands are quite possibly the most precious thing I have ever come across in my life and should be embraced rather than ashamed of.’ You add as you pressed a kiss to the sixth finger, nuzzling it a little much to Ford’s surprise, his poor heart couldn’t handle anymore of this then it already has to endure on a daily basis.

‘How so?’ Ford squeaks, feeling his glasses slip from his face, but you pushed them back up with your free hand and held his cheek afterwards, so that he was forced to look at you.

‘Because I find every aspect of you equally as beautiful Stanford pines and I won’t hear anything else, for you are a wonderful man with a beautiful heart and a celebrated mind, but I’d wish to celebrate your hands and their handiness.’ You chuckled at your one pun as Ford could only stare at you with hearts in his eyes.

‘Those who said anything negative or harmful of you are wrong and are probably in some dead end job going nowhere, where are you are doing what you love, but it is clear to see that your heart still hold the scars of the words thrown at you from all angles. So please let me help you unlearn all of that however I can because you of all people deserve to recants just how beautiful and wonderful you truly are through the eyes of the people who love you most.’ You admitted, holding his hand tighter for comfort, for reassurance as Ford could only stare at you as though he was looking at you for the first time again before smiling.

‘I’d like to say I’m fully accepting of myself because of you my dear, but we shall see what the future brings, together.’ Ford said softly as you both remained sat in silence, but this time you were snuggled into Ford’s side and his hand was firmly at your waist, squeezing comfortingly.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #stanford pines x you #stanford pines imagines #stanford pines imagine #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x you #ford pines imagines #ford pines imagine #ford pines x reader

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grabyourpillow · 2 months ago

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My favorite Conclave fanfics (so far)

in no particular order

Encounters with Turtles - MostRemote ( @mostremote )

Under the pontificate of Innocent XIV, Thomas Lawrence attempts to further social reform while navigating a web of personal struggles. Caught between his troubling feelings about Vincent and a crisis besetting Aldo, Thomas is forced to reckon with the boundaries of friendship, love, and sexuality.

Wonderfully written, very credible and sensible. Love the insight in how the reform process would actually go, how Vincent would try bringing about change, how queer people perceive their place in the church. Bellini is just mwah chef's kiss in this, I can actually hear Stanley Tucci. Ongoing

And This Shall Be A Sign Unto You - Roguekaiju ( @roguekaiju )

He had hoped to see how Vincent was handling the rush of a Vatican Christmas, had hoped to offer some encouraging words ahead of the next few busy days, to tell him, truthfully, that he was excelling.

Lovely lovely fic that feels intimate and warm. Explores the things that hold meaning to Vincent, as he accommodates his new life in the Vatican. There's baking. Complete

Canticle - Marie ( @dagensdatter )

“Do you know some people say you are as John the Baptist to him? Make straight the way of the Lord.”

I don't know how to describe this fic, other than it fulfilled all my wishes in terms of how Vincent and Thomas would navigate what it is between them after the conclave; and how Thomas examines his faith. The writing is incredible and gripping, and incredibly fine-tuned on all that is faith. Introspective. Utterly DEVASTATING, in a good way. Complete

Oh, Sister - Veganthranduil ( @veganthranduil )

The first year of Pope Innocent XIV’s papacy, through the eyes of Sister Agnes.

Brilliant brilliant fic, told though the unyielding, perceptive, hard-working eyes of sister Agnes. It brilliantly explores, the dynamics with Vincent, Lawrence and co intertwined with the daily life of the sisters and also how enforcing systemic change would actually work, with attempts and mishaps. It's so clever to go with Agnes's point of view and hardly anyone wrote it when it makes SO MUCH SENSE. My description doesn't do it justice so... just give it a shot. Complete

No Small Consolation - searchingforserendipity ( @searchingforserendipity25 )

“Do you think our saintly dead come to us to remind us of our tasks?”

He seemed surprised, to have said it at all. But that happened often, when people spoke to Vincent; all his life, it had been so.

Listen, i can't get enough of the scenes between Vincent and Lawrence, and there were so precious few in the movie. This fic feels seamlessly like one of them. Love it. Complete

the very hairs on your head are all numbered - Ruthvsreality

Pope Innocent XIV has long hair. For some reason unknown to him, this is an issue.

This is such a fun one. It's difficult to make a fun yet credible one in the Conclave universe and yet this fic manages it! It's an entirely plausible discussion that Vincent might be subjected to. made super fun because... Well. Ray. Bellini. Vs Vincent being just "???" Complete, very short

#conclave #and i've read... pretty much all of them lmfao #just my personal faves #there are other great ones honestly everyone who writes for conclave is super thoughtful about it it's a delight #conclave 2024 #i tagged the authors when I found their tumblr handle #conclave fanfic

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ayakashiz · 11 months ago

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Alien Stage R6 Analysis

VERY LONG compilation of my interpretations, impressions and unanswered questions about Round 6 of Alien Stage. I just wanted to write this to put all my thoughts in one place so I can finally rest (in pieces). TW for mentions of suic*de/suic*dal ideation.

The most debated is no doubt the kiss/choking scene and Ivan’s motivation for doing so in the first place.

I think from the very beginning, even before R3, Ivan was planning to go out with a bang. That’s the immediate impression I got from the comic where he mocks/criticizes Sua for planning to “selfishly” die for Mizi and feel good being the “heroine” rather than having to deal with the trauma of being the one left behind.

(I'm too lazy to edit the whole translation as of now, but might do so when I have more time.)

Ivan tells her how he’s “relieved that he’s not the only who’s that twisted” = He’s comparing himself to Sua. He thinks they’re both ‘twisted’ for planning to do the same thing, but from Ivan’s perspective, he at least isn’t fooling himself into thinking his motives are altruistic. He tasted the feeling of being ‘abandoned’, and he knows he doesn’t want to experience it twice.

He also probably thought that his death wouldn’t be as impactful on Till as Sua’s death on Mizi, and therefore his own selfishness is more justified in his mind. This most likely plays a role in how cold and biting his words are towards Sua –he’s jealous of that difference between them.

I hadn’t noticed this detail the first time I watched the video: Not only did Till look absolutely miserable and defeated from the get go, but he completely gave up and stopped singing at some point. If you look at the video, we can hear the audio that was supposed to be sung, but Till is quiet and still, and THIS is the moment Ivan chooses to act.

Although they do not show the votes at that particular moment, stopping mid song would have definitely taken a hit to Till’s score as it’s basically forfeiting –a huge contrast to his previous match where he didn’t even let his opponent utter a single line.

In response, Ivan doesn’t just walk towards him but throws his microphone to the ground, explicitly forfeiting as well in order to then pull a drastic move like it was foreshadowed in his interview.

The kiss itself imo was the less calculated/arguably unplanned part. He could have just choked Till from the start and it would have gotten him the same if not better results (since it was the act of violence against another contestant that ultimately lowered his score and got the counter to stop).

That kiss was authentic and for himself entirely, both as a last desperate attempt at conveying his feelings and a selfish way of leaving a strong impression on Till that he wouldn’t be able to forget (a hypocritical move going back to how he criticized Sua). In that sense, I don’t think Ivan was seriously trying to take Till down with him –although that’s up to interpretation. As I see it, that would contradict his actions up until that point.

Till was VERY CLEARLY suic*dal (once again, he gave up singing), and after the initial shock of Ivan squeezing his neck, this fiery, rebellious man who is KNOWN to fight tooth and nail, simply closed his eyes and relaxed his body, waiting for Ivan to end him without fighting at all.

The thing is, no matter how suic*dal one may be, the fighting response when being actually suffocated is automatic and completely involuntary. People mention there not being marks on Till’s neck but I think the most telling sign is him not going red, not squirming, not struggling or holding onto Ivan’s wrists (again, expected involuntary responses), his eyes not watering or having blurry vision while we see Ivan from his POV, not opening his mouth even a little to gasp for air and not coughing or gasping either when he was finally released.

Ivan definitely had him in a strong grip, might have even made him a bit lightheaded, but the reason why Till could look so relaxed in the first place is because he had given up and was waiting for Ivan to go ahead. If his closed eyes and limp posture were due to the choking itself, he would have fallen or stumbled when being let go, but we see that his eyes open as soon as he feels Ivan’s hands slipping away and he looks shocked instead.

So then what was Ivan’s motivation, if not to kill him? Yes, there’s the already discussed plan to get himself disqualified. But Ivan glances at the screen only a few seconds after he starts the choking, confirming that the voting had in fact stopped with Till having the higher score. He then goes for one last ‘goodbye’ kiss before continuing to choke him, holding his grip even as he starts getting shot.

We see a closeup of him, his eyes and hands trembling, looking more frustrated/emotional than in Till’s first POV where he looks rather stoic. It makes me think that the reason he refused to let go was simply because he wanted Till to look at him.

They strongly imply throughout the whole video that being annoying or mean or violent was the only way Ivan learnt how to make Till focus his full attention on him, but now even as he’s threatening his life, even as he himself is dying, even after that kiss, Till wouldn’t look.

It took him getting fatally wounded and realizing there was no turning back to reach a state of acceptance. His bittersweet expression here reminds me A LOT of his smile after Till runs back during the meteor scene, although this one seems a lot more tender. He seems to accept the fact that Till will never love him back, but Ivan cannot stop loving him anyways and he at least got to put his feelings out there.

(The parallels here are driving me insane. The way there is light in his eyes in both instances as he looks at Till even while 'losing him' in a way. The struggle between wanting to posses him yet realizing his free spirit/strong will is part of what he loves about him. That last genuine gaze from a character who spent his whole life putting on a mask. Yes I am very normal about this.)

Until then, Ivan’s more tender/vulnerable side is only shown while Till is unconscious or looking away.

(That soft, loving nuzzle to Till's face has me in SHAMBLES.)

But ironically, it’s only when he releases him and shows him this vulnerability without a mask that Till really looks at him for the first time. I’d go as far as to say that it was this moment, and not the kiss, that finally made Till understand Ivan’s feelings. And in turn Ivan gets that little shot of euphoria as he falls to the ground.

Going back to the survivor’s guilt… I can only imagine it’ll go completely downhill for Till from now on. Not only does he already think Mizi might be dead and is angry at himself that he couldn’t save her (as seen in the shot where he punches his own picture), but now he has most likely realized that Ivan intentionally fumbled their match for his sake –which would lead to the realization that he was the reason why Ivan chose to run back to Anakt Garden after him in the first place, and that choice ultimately lead to his death.

Even though we see them fighting a lot as children through the videos and comics, it’s also implied that they were always together and they shared some quiet moments –the “Mizi didn’t play with you, I played with you” art, all that art of the main 4 playing together, those bright smiles as they ran away together during the meteor shower scene and Till looking so guilty when he let go of his hand.

There are a few cute doodles of them for those who are on Patreon, and some more lore in the Anakt Garden kit –so they were at the very least friends in their own way (as best as 2 very traumatized and abused children could), constantly fighting and making up. Which God… it shows that despite appearances Till must have actually had the patience of a saint when they were little lmao.

But what I’m trying to say is that despite what Ivan may have thought, his death will most definitely have an impact on Till and the narrative going forward, and I’m excited to find out how that reflects in the final round (if the resistance doesn’t manage to get back up in time to disrupt it).

Despite how much I adored (and SUFFERED WITH) this round, I still have MANY questions that were left unanswered, both about Ivan and Till, and the lore in general, and I wonder if there’ll be time to answer them all, as I can imagine the next MV will be focused on Luka’s perspective, the only one we haven’t been presented with.

One of the most pressing questions being: What’s the relationship between Ivan and that alien dog? Did he tame it? It is implied that it was Ivan who somehow led Till and Mizi to it in the first place in that one scene, and if so I wonder what his motivation was? Normally jealousy would be the first thing to come to mind but Ivan wasn’t interested in Till until AFTER he saw him stand up to the beast to protect Mizi, so it couldn’t have been that.

This is something that was also teased on Patreon and I was looking forward to the explanation on the MV, but it never came, and now Ivan is dead, so the next video will most likely not be too concerned with his backstory any longer. (Which, also, I was really curious about his life in the slums before being captured, auctioned and brought to Anakt, as that would have played a huge role in his twisted personality/dark tendencies –once again teased on Patreon very briefly, but not explained beyond that frame of him looking famished.)

The second is, how is Ivan able to open Till’s collar/muzzle so easily? This is a question I’ve been having since R3, but chalked it up to Ivan being sneaky and figuring out some kind of code to the cell door and that somehow automatically deactivating the locks on the restraints… or something. But with how many times he does it in R6 with just a touch it’s very clear that that isn’t the case and also imo they’re trying to point this out as a significant detail.

It may turn out that I’m just looking too much into it, but I find it really curious and interesting. Not only is he the only child without a collar (Mizi and Sua still had them despite being just as well behaved as him), but he seems to be the only one able to take them off –or at least Till’s. I’m pretty sure the children wouldn’t normally be able to remove them by themselves as it seems to be a control mechanism. So how can Ivan? This might explain a lot about how they were able to escape, and also add a layer of tragedy knowing that Ivan could have chosen to escape by himself at any point, but refused to leave Till behind.

Last but not least there’s all the human experimentation Till was subjected to, which was the main topic of the teaser and we see the same images show up in the very beginning of the MV. They help emphasize Till’s suffering and distressed state of mind, but then they’re never expanded on or mentioned at all for the rest of the video. That’s a huge piece of lore that I also hope isn’t forgotten.

I mean, I really doubt it will. So far VIVINOS & co. have been incredible with their ability to hold back information and release it at the moment where it’s the most impactful, which is refreshing to see. So I trust we’ll get some answers eventually.

Really curious to know why they would experiment on an ALNST contestant in the first place, especially one that is undoubtedly talented and described as a musical genius (aka. has good odds of doing well on stage and earning the segyein revenue). A very plausible theory might just be that he was just getting constantly drugged to make him less of a threat/more submissive –like we see on the karaoke room scene. But it might as well be something bigger.

As for my expectations for the next round… I’m still just trying to process this one, as you can see by the sheer amount of text. There are many things left to address, and the Hyuna/Luka confrontation has been strongly teased. I wonder also, if the round goes on without interruption, what would Luka’s strategy against Till be? Would he go for provocation again, trying to imitate Mizi/hint to his recent trauma with Ivan? It probably won’t be that simple.

I mean, VIVINOS has been known for subverting our expectations with each round:

The ominous/callous framing that was given to Ivan by the end of Black Sorrow and the art that followed, making us suspicious of his intentions, only to have him die for love. The lifeless/doll-like framing given to Luka, vulnerable and cornered by flashing lights, only to have him be the cruelest/most calculating one (that we know so far). The rebellious, rowdy, willing to do anything to survive framing given to Till, only to have his fighting spirit completely break and willingly waiting to die by Ivan’s hands. The naive, complacent and passive image given to Mizi, only to have her snap, beat the shit out of Luka and join the rebellion –and with how things are going (and her being the protagonist) I wouldn’t be surprised if she, and not Hyuna (the one who was framed as the most strong and reliable, giving us a false sense of security going into R6), is who will have to try and rescue Till (and Luka???).

There are still a ton of things that keep me awake at night about R6 –my favorite character dying aside. I could talk about it forever, but I’ll leave it here.

Feel free to share your theories, delusions, interpretations or any detail I might have missed with me. God knows we need group therapy after this as the cute chibi keychains can only heal us so far. Thanks for reading my rambles if you made it this far. :’)

#alien stage #alnst #에이스테 #ivantill #vivinos #ivan alnst #till alnst #im GOING INSANE idk if you can tell... hahah #the only reason i didn't flood this with more videos and pictures is cause tumblr gave me a limit of 30 :')

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schemmentigfs · 8 months ago

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Hi! I have a request on mean!mommy Melissa x R? When Melissa caught r flirting with someone (on purpose) and she decided to take R home and punish the hell out of R and comfort her after?

Tempting Fiery Redhead Devil.

summary: Jacob reveals that Melissa once told him that she wasn’t a jealous person. Outrageous by the made-up lie, you decide to take revenge by flirting with one of the teachers at the book club reunion without knowing that it would lead to painful consequences later at your girlfriend’s place.

warnings: porn with plot, mommy/mistress kink, a little toxic melissa? strap-ons, blowjobs, degradation, squirting, praises, fingering, oral, mentions of voyeurism.

shout out to the person who said that mel eats pussy for breakfast, CUZ SHE DOES! and for lunch and dinner too. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩btw, I managed to get some free days so send prompts for me to write! :)

Monday mornings at an elementary school as a teacher were always quiet and ordinary, being the beginning of the week they ever tended to be slower or considerably boring. Even discouraging at times, and today things weren’t very different, actually it seemed the same old thing. Everyone who worked at Abbott Elementary was still sleepy and in a bad mood, trying to gather strength to start the day after a quiet relaxing weekend away from the common chaotic environment which seemed to take over the entire building.

You weren’t much different from the rest. Struggling with the urge to not to close your eyes and sleep on the hallway benches, exhaustion taking over every inch of your body. Which was quite curious and comical since your weekend off from work had been, to say the least, like a visit to paradise. On Saturday and Sunday you stayed at Melissa’s place, enjoying your girlfriend’s company in the little bubble that both built in these nine months of an established relationship.

You didn’t understand why you looked so tired. Most of the time, on those two days you and the older woman cooked together and cuddled on the couch watching romcoms — Melissa’s secret favorite genre of movies. A great counterpoint to the tough and mysterious persona she was known for throughout South Philly. Until the memory hit your head. In the middle of a scene from 50 First Dates, the redhead began to place heated kisses and bites on your collarbone starting a makeout session that ended with you under the sheets moaning and screaming her name while she went down on you.

“You taste so divine, babygirl,” she said between tortuous and slow licks. Seeming genuinely enchanted by your flavor. “I could spend hours with your thighs suffocating my head.”

As she savored your entrance, her fingers traced teasing circles along your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. Her breath, warm against your skin, whispered countless promises yet to come, mingling with the soft hum of approval as she continued to explore your depths with a hungry curiosity.

You bucked your hips, moaning loudly, massaging the well-defined red curls that were slightly messy. “Feels so nice. More, please mistress!”

She moaned into your pussy, reaching out one of her manicured hands to twist your perk nipples. The pain made you tighten your grip on her hair, arching your back off the bed. The woman pinned your hips down again, you let out a strangled cry. Letting yourself get lost at the feeling of Melissa taking care of you, the way she knew how.

“Aw, that was such a cute noise, baby. Do you like it when mommy takes charge and praises you?” she talked you through it. “I know you do, so good for me, letting mommy play with you like this.”

Melissa placed a kiss on your clit, replacing her tongue with two fingers, making you cum at an impressive speed with a pitched gasp. While you were coming down from your high — eyes closed, body trembling and breathing heavily, the woman followed a trail of kisses and licks through your body until she reached your face. Where she captured your lips in a hungry kiss, making you moan as you tasted yourself in her warm skillful mouth.

When you part for the air, you mapped shapes into the freckles on her back. Looking at your girlfriend with doe eyes and a weak smile, still recovering from the orgasm and trying to control your irregular breath.

“Mel, can you approach a little more?” you broke the silence wanting more contact with her body. She giggled hearing your request and moved even closer. Not wanting to spend a second away from you.

“You're so good to me, hon,” she returned the smile, pressing a gentle peck on your cheek. “So good. I'm so proud of you.”

The next morning and also the last day you stayed at her house, the woman didn't give you any time or chance to rest. While preparing breakfast, she bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked you senseless with one of the strap-ons which she kept in a secret box that contained various sex toys that she used with you in bed. Things like vibrators, handcuffs and whips stood out in this huge selection of objects.

“Mommy,” you mewled between violent thrusts and hearing her animalistic grunts accompanying the movements of her hips slamming into you. “I can’t hold it any longer, please let me come.”

“That’s it, be a good girl and cum for mommy,” she whined, finding her own release after hearing you scream her name. Melissa gently pumped her cock inside you for a while, before pulling out with a kiss down your spine to relax your body on the aftershock. She throwed the harness on the floor to worry about cleaning up later.

You made a dissatisfied noise, feeling empty. She noticed and started calming you.

“I gotcha baby. You’re okay, now let’s get ya cleaned up and fresh.” The redhead carried you in her arms bridal style to the upstairs bathroom and kept her promise, giving you a warm, relaxing bath that you enjoyed every second melting on her embrace and sighing passionately with each caresses and kisses given.

After your shared bath, Melissa made blueberry pancakes along with strawberries and apple juice — your favorites — and took you back to bed. But this time, she didn’t start another round and just spooned you from behind, whispering sweet nothings as you fell asleep with an adorable smile on your face.

“So beautiful and precious,” she told you. “Ti amo, dolcezza mia. Sono la donna più fortunata del mondo.”

“I love you,” you managed to say sleepily, turning around to face Melissa and snuggle into her soft and comfy chest. That at this point had become your favorite place to sleep in peace, the sound of the redhead's heartbeat always calmed you down. “More than anything, babe.”

The last thing you felt before drifting off was a tender kiss on your hair.

That Sunday, you slept like a baby. What a completely unforgettable weekend, those pleasurable moments with your girlfriend were always cherished. No matter how much energy it took from you, leaving Melissa in complete control was special and made you feel loved in her presence.

Stopping walking for a bit as your feet feel sore through your green all-stars, you complain once again.

“I just need a double dose of caffeine and a medicine to calm down,” you breathed out, practically dragging yourself with your heavy bag on your shoulder. “Dude, why do I pack so much stuff in this damn thing? There’s enough props that could fit in Ava’s bunker.”

Mr. Johnson, who was sweeping the floor with small headphones humming the Jacksons famous Blame on The Boogie tune, laughs at your complaints making you startle, placing a hand on your chest while meeting his gaze. “You look like Ms. Teagues waking up confused in the nurse’s office after taking out the entire power in school,” he commented casually. “Where is that willingness? Does Ms. Schemmenti have anything to do with this?”

The mockery makes your cheeks take on a red blush. Everyone was now aware of your serious relationship and every opportunity given they found a way to make fun of the dominance she had over you, in a respectful way, obviously. No one would dare to disrespect Melissa’s precious girlfriend that she protected with all her heart.

You didn’t mind all that teasing of course, it was hilarious and a bit harmless when someone did it. Perhaps, these jokes were so good that they made you laugh genuinely. But since you’re known through the entire building as one of the shyest and quietest teachers, that often led to extremely embarrassing situations.

Like one time on development day where in the middle of Ava's ridiculous presentation, sharing what she had done over the summer vacation instead of her plans for school in the new school year. At the back of the library, Melissa began tracing imaginary patterns on your soft thighs, each movement closer to your core without caring about the rest of the staff present. Self-conscious and afraid of being caught, you grabbed her hand, pulling it away in dismay. But the ambitious woman just gave a smug grin and continued her ministries, earning a deep, shaky sigh to fall from your lips.

The redheaded teacher was only testing the waters, shamelessly teasing you to see how far you would reach the limit. That meant, begging to be touched by her.

“Lissa, we are in the same place as our co-workers. That isn't a great idea!” you protested, unsuccessfully trying to maintain your professional demeanor in public.

“Don’t be a pussy, you can handle it, dollface.” She replied with her pupils blown with desire, waiting for you to give in.

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” you tried with a firm tone but were interrupted with a slap on your left thigh. That would definitely leave a mark. “What are–”

“Sarai una brava ragazza per me, o ti comporterai come una stronza?” Melissa scoffs with a humorless laugh, knowing that when she said something extremely dirty in her native language, it quickly turned you on. “O vuoi un altro segno rosso sul sedere?”

“Uh?”

She jeered with false sympathetic eyes. “Poor baby, cat’s got your tongue?”

“No, but..”

Barb, who was there that morning — almost fast asleep, and inpatient, noticed the almost inappropriate act in public and ended up reprimanding you and her work wife with an incredulous look. “Ladies, we’re on school grounds. This is a learning space, please behave.”

“Please forgive us, Mrs. Howard, it won't happen again!” you spoke out, chastising for sounding like an horny teenager caught by your parents in the middle of an intimate moment. “We’re just fooling around to take our mind off the nonsense things Principal Coleman says about her spiritual retreat.”

“Mmm, I see.” She hums, falling back asleep tired from all the chatter.

You put your hands on your face, feeling embarrassed and shy. Jumping on your seat for a brief second when Melissa puts her own palms on top of yours, making you look directly at her.

“Do ya think you can get away that easily?” your girlfriend teased with a tilt of her head, leaning in to drop a comment in your ear. “Bambina cattiva. I suppose mommy has to teach you a lesson. Doesn’t she?”

She wasn't suggesting what you were imagining, was she?

“I dunno if we should have a quickie in here. It’s easier and safer to do this at home, there’s more privacy and I don’t want to get on any trouble—”

“Shut up and follow me outside,” Melissa interrupted, grabbing you by the arm with a certain possession. The touch makes you squeal in pain. “Do I have to discipline you to be more obedient when receiving orders?”

“It will not be necessary. I’ll behave, ma'am.”

“Good.” She replied, satisfied with your answer. “See, you can obey me. It’s easy.”

The disapproval warning given earlier by Barbara was a little in vain, as minutes later the redhead ended up pulling you to the parking lot and covering your mouth, roughly fingering you in her car as a punishment for not keeping quiet. Risky but also hot.

“Mommy’s little slutty girl,” Melissa groaned in the backseat with a sweet ridiculous voice compared to the almost aggressive way she inserted four fingers into your tight hole. “So fuckin’ pretty, all mine.” The words made your walls clench around her, obtaining another moan to escape from the redhead’s labia.

“Yeah, mommy. Only yours,” you whimpered, before cumming hard in the older woman's strong arms. Collapsing as Melissa holds you tightly against her. “Fuck!”

“Questa è la mia principessa,” she concluded that day, tracing your lower lip with her finger affectionately. “Why don’t we go home right away, hon? I guess someone deserves to be rewarded for the good job she just did for me.”

“Please,” you answered with some difficulty, nuzzling your face in the crock of her neck. Inhaling the sweet aroma of jasmine from her perfume. You weren't so naive as you seemed, the reward meant that Melissa was going to let you touch her. And you would never refuse an offer to pleasure that goddess sculpted by angels.

“Please? Such an obedient baby. How could I deny something from a sweet thing like ya?”

Melissa was always attracted to your innocence and purity. There was something charming about the way you acted with any unintentional sexual provocation she threw your way, giving a shy smile in response or a nervous laugh. Or how you blushed afterwards when you asked her to explore something new in bed together, or buried your face in her chest when she showered you with kisses and called you her good girl. That drove her instantly insane. Since after all, you were just her pretty angel that she loved corrupting and ruining.

“Mr J..” you gave a panicked smile coming back from the memory, about to think of an excuse so you can run and get out of there as quickly as possible. “I-”

The janitor rolled his eyes in amusement when he noticed how desperate you were.“I'm only joking kid, chill out. What happened to your sense of humor and improvised jokes?” he questions. “I think the ghost of bad mood got you, boo!”

You raised your eyebrows without expressing any reaction. “Ghost of bad mood? That sounds like something my fourth graders would say.”

“And something you would say if you were in a good mood!” The guardian retorts. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish cleaning the rest of the hallway and classrooms before the rascals arrive. And please, no pornographic acts in my closet again. You're lucky enough that the hidden cameras didn't capture anything or maybe could end up having consequences.”

Oh, another honorable mention of one of the ‘secret and public’ makeout sessions between you and Melissa on school grounds, which ended with you both getting caught after sex by Janine, it's safe to say that this experience was definitive for you two agreeing not to have quickies in any corner of Abbott anymore.

“Yep, understood, Mr. Johnson. No more activities in your closet,” you lowered your head, giving a small groan in irritation.

You continued to walk towards the break room, relieved it was twenty minutes left for the first bell to hit. Opening the door, you find Melissa who was keeping her leftovers from the weekend dinner in the fridge. You lean against the wall, watching her with a goofy smile. She truly was a vision. Seconds later, the woman beams when she notices your presence, she is always mesmerized everywhere you are. According to her, your beauty was breathtaking.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, enchanted by the way her bright eyes roamed your figure with adoration and longingly.

“Buongiorno amore,” she tells you gently in her sleepy morning voice and gives you a sweet peck on the lips. Normally Melissa didn’t show affection in public for preferring to be reserved — she wasn't a big fan of pda, jesting that sounded annoying. But lately she's been making an effort and exception after hearing you mention that it was one of your favorite love languages. “Someone seems whacked, hm?”

The false pity in her tone, doesn't go missed by you.

“I think a certain second grade teacher had something to do with it,” you playfully swat her on the elbow. “Earlier, it was a challenge getting up to change. I had to sit on a chair to put on my clothes, my legs were wobbly like jello!”

She laughs and boops your nose. “It means I fucked you well that weekend, honey. In fact, I can't wait to have a moment for ourselves again. So I can bury my head in your dripping cunt until you beg for me to stop.” Melissa whispers with a sensual wink and lets you wordless, returning to the usual table she shares with Barb.

If there was one thing she was good at, it was being a complete pervert. Consider it to be one of her many specialities. “Uh, right. That sounds perfect,” you stuttered and composed your posture to avoid shameless questions from the other teachers and move towards your main goal; the coffee machine. The staff room remained in a comfortable and compressive silence but something caught your attention immediately.

“What’s so hilarious there?” You asked in doubt as you turned on the almost broken machine with some difficulty to prepare a fresh cappuccino so you could recharge your social batteries before your students arrived that morning and heard Jacob and Janine whispering to each other excitedly. The small discussion between them echoed through the lounge, drawing the attention of the other teachers and staff members present in the room, who decided to ignore them. Finding the dynamic duo's infectious energy considerably irritating.

Gregory, who was sitting near the vending machine, exchanges glances with you and just shrugs at the interaction between his girlfriend and best friend.

“I have no idea what is being said, although it sounds very productive.” The teacher finishes, returning to pay attention to class planning and also to suggestions for his garden.

“Can this assumption be considered valid?” Jacob ponders with his hand on his chin, thoughtful for two measly minutes. “I mean, it only mentions a small percentage! I shouldn’t worry about that, right?”

Janine puts her hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle but firm pat. Sometimes the history teacher got anxious easily even depending on how silly the subject was. “Don’t worry, it’s just a small result that says you are considerably calm.” Finally, she turns her head towards you. “Good morning, Y/n! We were just checking out a BuzzFeed test that looked fun.”

“BuzzFeed test?” you raise an eyebrow holding back a laugh as if that was a funny joke made up by the younger teachers. “Is Hill freaking out about a quiz? No way.” It was common knowledge that the topics discussed by the two tended to be genuinely meaningless most of the time. And that seemed like another one on the list.

He defends himself, sounding somewhat dramatic. “It's not a simple quiz, it's one to find out how jealous we are with our partners.”

So it wasn't just a meaningless or random conversation. Just a test to reveal your level of jealousy? That was kind of interesting, no matter how stupid it seemed. Curious about the subject, you pull up a chair to sit next to them. “And what was the result you two got? Is it that bad?”

The second grade teacher takes her phone out of her pocket and checks the result again. “Mine said I’m quite naive and don’t feel jealous most of the time.” She sighs, looking a little offended by the adjective given in the sentence.

“Acceptable, if you don't take it personally as you always do in any situation. And Jacob?”

“My result said basically the same thing. Just adding that my jealousy could just be a small signal of paranoia caused by some insecurities,” the man shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the suggested issue. Making a mental note to discuss it with his boyfriend later. “Rude if you ask me.”

You switch your gaze between your friends, taking a sip of your cappuccino. “Well, no offense, but in my opinion that makes a lot of sense.” The words that slip off your lips make them cast an incredulous look your way. “What?”

“If you say so,” Janine comments and clears her throat to take the attention away from her. “While we’re on the subject, let me seize the opportunity. Do you get jealous easily?”

The question sounded so silly and naive that for a measly second the idea of not answering immediately seemed completely valid. So valid that you even considered it but decided against it when you remembered that she might be on your case later, insisting to the point of making you lose your mind with the typical interrogation.

“No!” you said proudly with a grin, convincing them. “I am someone who is considerably controlled.” Your focus goes to Melissa, who had put down her word search game and had nudged Barbara to watch the morning program presented by Jim Garden. “But that one over there? It's worse than the devil himself when she gets jealous.” You pointed to the redhead discreetly with a playful smile. Silently thanking that she wasn't listening.

Jacob gives you a puzzled look and gestures with his hands for you to come closer and whispers. “Huh, it's curious you mentioned that, Mel Mel once said she wasn’t the jealous type.”

Was this the best he could do to try and get a genuine giggle out of you? What a complete idiot.

“Right, and I adore attending the book club meetings at the gym twice a week,” you say sarcastically. Hoping that he was only teasing and saying something out of pocket, but your expression changed into a frown after noticing the truth and sincerity in his words. “That's impossible! When did she say it?” You almost shouted but covered your mouth with your hands so as not to attract any attention.

Jacob inhaled deeply, looking for the right words to not make you freak out. “When we...” The pause makes you slam your hand on the table, urging him to continue.

“HILL.”

Your patience began to run out when the Italian woman’s voice manifested about to make a fuss.

“Could youse control that noise over there?” Melissa grumbles from the couch that occupied the break room. “I’m trying to focus on the news,” she points to the television that was playing Channel 6.

“Sorry, honey!” you apologize, closing your eyes and taking a minute to recover, repeating the prompt. “When was that, Jacob? Answer me.”

“It was when we were watching some episodes of The Real Housewives of New Jersey in my apartment last month. In one moment, Mel burst into laughter and said that she had never felt jealous on an extreme level. Not a single time.” He recalled.

Your breathing hitches. The realization hits you like a punch in the gut. That sounded like a stupid April Fools joke.

Melissa Schemmenti was a jealous woman by nature. No matter how much she denied it, she made clear in her actions. Whenever someone flirted with you, her infamous fight or fight instinct was activated. You've witnessed many times the way she clenched her fist, bit her lip impatiently and gave a death glare to anyone who dared to mess with you. The Sicilian woman made a point of showing that her girl belonged only to her and no one else.

And knowing that she preferred to be stubborn and lie to hide that she was vulnerable and maintain her reputation as a fearless woman with a heart of stone rather than actually tell the fucking truth made you extremely outrageous. Did Melissa have the slightest idea and notion of how much this could upset you? Apparently not.

It was truly childish behavior to act dramatically about something stupid like that but who cared, it was your right to be bothered by it.

“She said? Great, we’ll see about that,” you mutter in a venomous tone with arms crossed. “It’s time for someone to try her own medicine.”

Jacob widens his eyes, afraid that he has revealed more than he should and leaves the table to go towards Gregory to discuss something lighter and more restrained like Dungeons and Dragons.

“Do not under any circumstances tell her that I said anything!” he begs in fear. “Sometimes, that woman scares the hell out of me. Even though I consider her a maternal figure, she—”

“No need to shit your pants, squidward. You’ll be able to sleep peacefully with doors open and lights off, the tenebrous green-eyed monster will not appear under your bed and rip your feet off.” You mock him and he just bites his nails, still scared.

Ava who was listening to the conversation pipes in. “Bitch, don’t tell me we're about to witness some real sapphic drama between you and our favorite milf. Watching this will be more fun than all the heterosexual drama between Janine and Gregory since he started working here.” She winks with a smirk.

“AVA,” Janine begins with a sigh, her exasperation palpable. "Seriously?"

“Quiet, lowercase. We're about to witness a historic fight between Abbott's hottest couple,” Ava retorts, clearly entertained.

As the silly provocation between the two women escalated, you quietly slipped out of the staff room. A bittersweet expression crossed your face, your stomach aching with discomfort. The camera crew, who had been filming the entire scene, noticed your sudden change in demeanor and hurriedly pulled you into the hallway for an impromptu interview.

“Sometimes, Melissa can really surprise me. Some moments are pleasant, others... not so much,” you said softly, absently playing with the ring on your left hand. “It’s just challenging to navigate at times.”

The cameraman nodded, urging you to elaborate more.

“She has her own way of seeing things,” you continued, gathering your thoughts. “I guess we all do. But that doesn't justify her acting like a damn bitch.”

——

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of chaos. From the moment the kids entered your classroom for the first period, they seemed determined to test every ounce of your energy, concentration, and patience. Your usually well-behaved students turned into mischievous imps whenever they caught a moment's respite from your watchful eye. Normally, you didn't mind their occasional antics; it was part of the joy of teaching. But today, dealing with their exuberance felt overwhelming, compounded by the weariness that weighed heavily on you.

Before heading to the cafeteria, your little eagles had transformed into small devils, finding mischief in every corner of the class. Pencils flew like missiles during quiet time, paper airplanes soared across the room during small breaks, and even the usually attentive ones seemed to have caught a case of the giggles that spread like wildfire.

You found yourself back in the classroom after a much-needed lunch break with Janine, Gregory, and Jacob at a quaint restaurant seven blocks from school. Spending time with the trio had been a welcome distraction from the confusion and hurt caused by Melissa’s unfounded lie about her jealousy. You were thankful that the topic hadn't resurfaced during lunch.

Initially hesitant when Gregory invited you to join them, fearing it might fuel gossip about that topic, you eventually relented at Janine and Jacob's insistence. They assured you they wouldn't bring up anything uncomfortable, and instead, the conversation flowed to lighter topics—celebrities, nerd conventions, upcoming seasons of TV shows, and plans for the next weekend’s parties.

Faced with a daunting stack of tests to grade by Thursday morning, you absentmindedly clicked the tip of the red pen. The harsh, flickering light strained your eyes uncomfortably. Thoughts swirled in your mind—was retaliating against Melissa fair? Or would it be wiser to simply ignore her falsehood? You trusted Jacob. He wouldn't lie about something like that, would he?

Maybe the best course of action was to confide in your girlfriend about the insecurity that the revelation had sparked. But the thought of admitting to Melissa that her words had shaken you, worried that it might seem like making a mountain out of a molehill, made you afraid. You didn't want to burden her with unnecessary drama.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” A voice from the back of the room interrupted your thoughts, causing you to hastily put your glasses back on and stand up to address the class.

“Yes, Jayden? How can I help you?” you responded, trying to maintain composure despite the unexpected question.

The boy looks at you with a neutral expression, before saying something unexpected. “I just wanted to know one thing. Are you pissed off at Ms. Schemmenti?”

You were taken aback in the heat of emotion. “Wait, what?”

A chorus of awed whispers erupted among the students, making you wish you could disappear into the floor. The speed at which gossip spread through the school was staggering, and controlling it seemed impossible. Your only hope was that Melissa wouldn’t hear about this.

“Class, let’s settle down,” you scolded, though your own nerves were evident. Fidgeting with the pearl necklace around your neck, your fingers trembling slightly, you replied, “What makes you think that, buddy?”

He gestured towards the framed photo on your desk—an adorable snapshot from one of your early dates with Melissa, a day she surprised you with a picnic in the park. You both had agreed to keep your relationship private initially, which made this moment all the more intimate and cherished.

“You haven’t been holding the picture and staring at it with puppy heart eyes today since the first class started. And you always do that, so somethin’ is clearly wrong here.” Jayden notes.

“And we didn't see you coming out into the hall to visit her when you dropped us at art class,” Skylar added with conviction.

Elijah, who was engrossed in his drawing, wisely pointed out. “And also, you didn't take out your phone to text her and laugh at her dad jokes,” he chuckled, grimacing.

Fucking hell. It was remarkable how observant these kids were, noticing every detail of your daily routine. They were right, but explaining the nuances of your relationship to them felt awkward and unnecessary.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke. “Everything’s fine. I’m just a bit distracted today, that’s all. But everything between us is as it should be. Understood?”

“Got it,” the students chorused, finally leaving you in peace. It was both amusing and exasperating to have to justify the intricacies of your relationship to a bunch of curious children—a situation you never imagined facing in your years as an experienced teacher. One thing was certain: your therapist would hear some interesting stories next month.

“Why can't I ever have a normal morning in this place?" you muttered, rubbing your temple as the camera zoomed in on your face. "I swear, it's like Abbott is conspiring against me. On summer break I will vanish from Philadelphia.”

——

After dismissing your last student for the day, you locked the classroom door with a defeated expression. Gathering your things, you made your way to the gym where Ava’s book club meeting was set to begin in fourteen minutes. The prospect of discussing books didn’t seem quite as pleasant knowing Melissa would be there, oblivious to your seething anger.

Speaking of the older woman, in the last period you thought of a naive plan to get some much-deserved revenge. Your plan was initially short and objective, leaving Melissa jealous by deliberately flirting with another staff member to the point where she lost control completely. It seemed simple to think like that straight away, the real problem would be execution and you knew it would be complicated.

Furthermore, there were three stages for the older woman to enter possessive and dominant mode. First, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Second, she clenched her teeth and bit her lips, feeling the blood rush to her head at a frightening speed. And finally, threatened anyone with her greenish orbs, sometimes even opting for violence methods featuring the emotional support baseball bat who she affectionately nicknamed Edith Houghton.

To push her to these stages, your flirting would need to push boundaries. But could you really go through with it, right? You just needed a suitable target.

Lost in thought, you walked slowly towards the stage, pulling out the book from your bag and flipping through its highlighted pages of One Of The Good Guys. Distracted and not paying attention, you collided with someone, sending both of you and your belongings sprawling to the floor.

“Ouch,” you complain. “My things are all scattered! What a great way to finish my Monday.”

“Fuck! Sorry!” A male voice exclaims in ecstasy, clearly frightened. Reaching out his hand to help you up.

You looked up and recognized Benjamin Cooper, one of the newly hired teachers for seventh grade. He wasn't a frequent face in the break room, often seen at meetings and conferences, seeming introverted and anxious around the rest that worked there. As if the poor twenty-six year old was looking for validation from those more experienced. Fairly that made you feel a little sorry and wanted to help him fit in.

“No worries, Mr. Cooper,” you said, accepting his hand with a small smile. “I was equally distracted.”

Benjamin blushed. “I should have been paying more attention. I've been a bit lost in my own world.”

“Win-win, right?” you replied with a light laugh. “So are you here for the book club?”

His face lit up at the question. “Yeah, Janine recommended it as a good way to get to know everyone here better. She said it’s quite an adventure.”

Before you could respond, Ava appeared, clapping hands. “Come on bitches, let's get this over with. I have a party club to attend later.”

——

The conversation is lively, everyone spent the next forty minutes discussing the story of the book, seeming intrigued by how the plot unfolded. But you have a different goal today. You steal a glance at Melissa, sitting on the other side of the circle, before turning to Benjamin, who is next to you.

Then let the games begin.

With a charming smile, you lean slightly closer to Benjamin, enough so that your legs are almost touching. “You really captured all the nuances of that character,” you say, voice sweet and complimentary. “It’s rare to find someone who sees so deeply between the lines.”

He smiles, clearly flattered. “Thank you, Y/n. I always try to pay attention to the smallest details.”

As the conversation continues, you laugh at his jokes, lightly touch his arm as you speak, and ask questions that demonstrate a genuine interest in his opinions. Your eyes shined with excitement, but every now and then, you would cast a calculating glance toward Melissa, watching her reaction.

The second grade teacher, sitting a few feet away with her legs propped up on another free chair, tries to remain calm, but her fingers nervously tap the cover of the book. Her eyes squint whenever they land on both of you, and her jaw is tense, her lips forming a thin line. She sees how you are purposely trying to at the same time attract his attention and piss her and she feels a mixture of anger and jealousy rising inside her.

During a pause in the debate, you laugh again at something Benjamin said and touch his knee, leaving it there for a moment longer than necessary. The redhead, no longer able to contain herself, stood up abruptly, attracting the eyes of everyone in the room.

“I need some air,” she says, her speech controlled but carrying a cold tone. She leaves the room quickly, leaving an awkward silence behind.

You watch her leave, a victorious expression flickering across your face before turning her attention back to him. “Sorry about that,” you whispered, trying to play it off. “She must be tired. Mel had a busy morning. Mondays are kinda tough for her.”

Benjamin, a little confused, just nods, while the others exchange puzzled glances. Except Ava who just remained lying on the floor, playing on her phone and enjoying the spectacle in front of her.

The principal laughed shamelessly. “Things are heating up! Mr. Johnson, get the damn popcorn ready. Someone is going to drop dead here!”

Her casual remark caught Barb's attention. She pieced together the situation and gave you a skeptical look, silently questioning whether you were brave or reckless to challenge Melissa without fear of serious consequences.

“Y/n.” She responds quietly enough just for you to listen, making a cutting gesture across her throat. “Sweet baby Jesus and the grown up too, what on earth are you doing?”

In a bold move, you raised a finger to your lips, implying that it was a deserved payback. The words of reprimand almost escape the brunette's throat, but she stops herself. Too stunned to speak against.

Mr. Morton whistled, drawing everyone's focus back to the book discussion.

You could have sworn you heard the noise of the redhead in her classroom, punching some makeshift bag to gauge the tension. Your creative imagination could visualize the scene perfectly, Melissa would have her back to the closed door, her body tense and her fists flying towards the object, hanging in the corner of the room. Each blow precise and full of strength, sweat running down her forehead and the veins in her neck standing out, highlighting the gravity of her dangerous emotions.

She would also probably be mumbling disjointed words with a focused expression.

After a few minutes, Melissa returns, carrying a bottle of water, trying to maintain her composure. As she handed the object to you, your eyes met hers for a moment, filled with unspoken emotions. “You forgot it in your classroom, darling,” she says, more controlled, but her body language says much more.

You take the bottle, fingers brushing your girlfriend's, and give her a smile that's both apologetic and mischievous. “Oh, how forgetful I am! Thank you, gorgeous,” you reply, the word loaded with meaning.

The rest of the meeting continued with a palpable tension in the air, and although your plan had been completed successfully, the atmosphere changed when the man innocently asked if you would be interested in going out sometime so you could visit a bookstore downtown.

Melissa watched from afar, her jaw clenched as she saw the blonde place his hand on your shoulder, inviting you to join him. Jealousy boiled inside her until it erupted into an outburst she couldn't contain. With determined steps, she stormed towards you, eyes flashing with indignation.

“Oi, you piece of shit!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. “Aren't you ashamed to flirt with my girlfriend in front of me?”

Benjamin turned around, surprised by Melissa's outburst. His smile disappeared instantly, replaced by an expression of bewilderment.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I... I wasn't...”

“I don't want to hear your excuses!” Melissa interrupted, her voice still thick with fury. “I have a baseball bat hidden in the trunk of my car and I'm not afraid to stick it right up into your ass—”

The youngest, visibly shaken, quickly retreated from the room, leaving space for others to quietly exit in his wake.

Barb stood at the entrance, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she observed the tense scene unfolding before her. As the fight between you and Melissa began, the kindergarten teacher's shock and disapproval grew. She had always known you two to be level-headed professionals, and seeing you in such a state of conflict was unsettling.

After a few moments of observing, she shook her head in disbelief. She knew that intervening in such a heated exchange would likely only make matters worse. Instead, she turned on her heel and quietly left the gym, praying that it would end soon.

“You've got some nerve, Y/n,” Melissa spat, her voice sharp with anger. “Flirting with him like that, right in front of me?” She had been pacing back and forth, her frustration boiling over into shouts that echoed off the walls. You, on the other hand, sat calmly in one of the chairs again.

“Please Schemmenti,” you scoffed. “You're just upset because I caught you in a lie.”

Her eyes narrowed, jaw clenching in frustration. “Lie?! What the fuck are you talking about?” she demanded, her voice rising.

You leaned back on your seat, crossing your legs casually. “You said to Jacob last month that you weren't a jealous person, remember?" you taunted. “But it's clear as day that you are!”

Melissa's face flushed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She had hoped to keep her jealousy hidden, but you had seen right through her facade. “That's not the point,” the green-eyed woman snapped, her voice tinged with bitterness. “You shouldn't have been flirting with him in the first place.”

“Maybe if ya were more honest about your feelings, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

She advances towards you quickly, like a predator surrounding its prey without caring for the way your body shrank and trembles with dark green eyes studying you carefully. You are startled by the movement and lose your balance, falling from the folding chair. Making a thunderous noise, leaving your cheeks flushed in embarrassment

“Crap,” you hiss in pain. “I’m going to need a bucket full of ice to assess this fall. Uh?” The attempt to calm her down backfires when she only rolls her eyes in annoyance silently shutting your mouth with her infamous mortal glare.

Melissa leans on top of your body, biting and licking your earlobe before whispering a simple command that she expects you to follow without any questions or complaints. Her heavy breathing makes you suppress a small whimper. “I want you to meet me at the parking lot in four minutes. It looks like someone needs to remember how to behave like a good girl and not disobey mommy again.”

You just agree, too muzzy to speak. She gets off of you, picks up the purse that was on the side of the chair and takes one last look at you, before disappearing in her angry walk, the noise of her boots makes your head spin.

You were in trouble. And about to see the meanest side of your girlfriend while dealing with the terrible consequences of your acts.

——

The heavy silence of the house is broken by the abrupt sound of the front door slamming shut. Melissa enters, her face a mask of suppressed fury, her eyes burning with a jealousy she can no longer control. You, mesmerized by the intensity of the older woman's expression, take a step back, but there is no time to react.

With a quick movement, she approaches, her hands firm but gentle, holding her precious girl around the waist. Without a word, she lifts you onto her lap, her muscles tense with anger and neediness. Taken by surprise, you feel your heart racing, a mixture of fear and excitement taking over.

Melissa strides purposefully down the hallway upstairs, fury burning in every movement. Sucking and biting your neck, creating purple marks that she knew would be difficult to hide later. When you reach her large room, she pushes the door with her foot, entering a space that now seems small and suffocating. “You've been quite naughty,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “I think you need a gentle reminder of who's in charge.”

The bedroom is shrouded in soft gloom, lit only by the diffused light from the lamp on the bedside table. The redhead takes in your figure, who is standing next to the bed, your eyes shining with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. Melissa looked deeply into your eyes, feeling the weight of desire and anticipation. Slowly, with a firm but tender touch, she began to undress you, piece by piece, letting each item of garment fall gently to the floor. Her slender fingers slid across the smooth skin.

She begins to unbutton her own blazer, revealing the pale, unblemished skin beneath. Each undone button is executed with calculated precision, his eyes never leaving yours. Melissa slides her blouse and bra off her shoulders, leaving them coughed next to the mirror.

Her hands go down, undoing her belt and black leather pants. The soft sound of the zipper coming down echoes through the silent room. She slides her pants down, revealing her sculpted legs, and kicks them to the side. After taking off her underwear. Melissa stands up again, completely naked, a perfect contrast between confidence and vulnerability.

The soft light from the lamp outlines every curve of her body, creating shadows that dance across her skin. With a nonchalant face, she walks to the drawer and opens it, taking out the harness and dildo. With dexterity, she attaches the accessory to her waist, adjusting it perfectly. The strap-on contrasts with her milky skin, looking like a natural extension of her body.

“Kneel.” Melissa commands, pointing to the center of the floor. There's a harsh, venomous tone to her hoarse voice and you get the feeling that you're going to be humiliated by the older woman for acting and behaving like a brat. Without hesitation, you obeyed, lowering yourself to the floor, knees meeting the cold wooden floor.

She sits on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs, with a maniacal smile and a demonic look in her green eyes — now dark with excitement. The sight looked quite pornographic, her red hair was now tied up in a beautiful ponytail, the way that her curves and magnificent body were on display for you.

“Suck it. Now.”

Your breath caught at Melissa’s words, a mix of anticipation and excitement flooding your senses. With a soft nod, you reached for her harness, your fingers clumsy tracing the contours. The smooth texture felt foreign yet strangely enticing in your hands.

She groaned at the sight of you wrapping your lips around her, the other end rubbing her clit causing a gasp. “That’s a good little girl, taking mommy's cock so well.” You moaned at her praise, running your tongue over the length, sucking and licking.

As you continue, she begins to move her hips slightly, pushing the silicone a little deeper into your mouth, establishing a slow but steady rhythm. “You like that, baby? Letting me take control of ya?” she asks. “Seeing you like this, so submissive and dedicated makes me so damn wet.”

She receives a muffled moan of confirmation, your palms resting on Melissa's thighs to plead more physical contact.

“Good pet.” The woman repeats. “Keep going, you’re making me so proud.”

You whined, feeling a wave of heat rise to your face. Looking away, trying to hide the blush that was certainly coloring your cheeks.

“Holy shit, baby. Mommy is so close. Make her come in your mouth with that magical tongue of yours.”

The answer is immediate. You increase the intensity, mouth working expertly as she continues to fuck your throat on agressive movements. The sound of panting breaths and whimpers fills the bedroom, creating a symphony of submission and pleasure. Every movement is meticulous, showing your dedication to pleasing. Melissa lets out a sigh, her fingers tangling in your long hair, guiding you gently as she reaches her orgasm.

“Fuck.”

She lay on her back, her auburn hair fanned out across the pillows. sinking into the softness of her king-sized bed, mind still buzzing with euphoria.

“Come here.” The tempting woman commands softly, reaching out her hand to you. Without hesitation, you position yourself over Melissa, straddling her. She holds you with a mischievous smile, helping you align yourself with the strap. “Ready for me?”

You yelp, cheeks flushed pink, holding onto her shoulders for balance. Slowly starting to lower yourself, feeling the toy enter your tight hole, a soft moan escaping your lips as the redhead fills you up deliciously.

“Such an obedient plaything,” Melissa whispers. She lets go of your waist and slides her hands up, firmly cupping your breasts. “Now ride me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “Of course, mommy—”

You begin to move, getting up and lowering yourself slowly at first, finding a comfortable rhythm. She watches in awe, fingers lightly squeezing your tits as she moves her hips up to meet yours. “Good girl. That’s it.” The Italian praises, encouraging.

As your motions progressed, bouncing with more intensity now back and forth, Melissa lets out low and hoarse moans. With a firm touch, she slaps your left breast, the skin turning slightly red from the impact. You arch your back, letting out a loud moan in response, intensifying the experience. The woman repeats the gesture, this time on the right breast, her hands caressing and squeezing right after the slap.

“Does that hurt? Oh baby.” She laughs. “Do you enjoy being my sweet little toy?”

“Yes!” you say between growls, more desperately. Each thrust sends waves through your body, the slaps to your breasts only intensifying. “I was made to be used by you.”

Melissa continues to encourage you, soft hands alternating between slaps and caresses. The bed starts creaking and you grab the headboard to have something to hold on, your knuckles turn white as you reach your climax, a groan of her name echoes in the residence, your body collapsing on top of her. The mattress sinks on impact, but you don't seem to worry about that.

You remain in that comfortable position for a while, the hands that were scratching your back now rest on your ass, caressing the soft flesh with a delicious lightness. Melissa's touch is intimate yet confident, each stroke a gentle exploration of familiar territory, as if following a recipe she knows by heart.

Rubbing your cheek against her shoulder, your mind melts and enters a state of relaxation. The feeling of her heathen and sweaty body pressed against yours and enveloping both of you in an intimate warmth makes you realize that there's no place else you'd rather be.

Outside, the night holds its breath, unaware of the intensity unfolding within the sanctuary of your shared passion.

“So fuckin’ good.” Melissa babbles, mostly to herself. “Dio, è così dannatamente bello. Posso sentirlo pulsare sul mio cazzo.”

She then delivered the first spank on your bottom, making you involuntarily jump in surprise. The bite you give in the valley of her big breasts awakens an primal animalistic desire on the woman underneath you.

In a blur of adrenaline and urgency, she placed more aggressive slaps on her ass, leaving it completely redden and sore, ignoring your cries. The action was enough for your juices to drip onto the sheets.

“Such a dirty whore, mommy needs to clean her before she makes more mess.”

Slowly, after at least ten swats on each buttock, Melissa removed you from above her, pulling your hair with all the strength she possessed. And pushing you to remain lying in bed, she grabs your wrists, pulling them above your head, trapping them firmly.

“Keep those hands to yourself or I will handcuff them.” Your heart misses a beat, you feel Melissa’s internal struggle, a deep desire.

The older woman lies on her stomach between your legs, leaning down to bite the inside of your thighs. Each kiss is teasing and intentional, leaving a trail of fire on your skin. You moan, your hips arching slightly in response to Melissa’s touch. “Babe…” you whisper, full of need.

“Shhh,” she whispered back, slapping your pussy and kissing your mound leaving a red mark of lipstick, claiming you as her property before spreading your folds apart. “I’ll take care of you, babygirl.”

Melissa gets closer, her tongue finally finding your puffy and throbbing clit. She starts with slow and circular movements, exploring each centimeter with experienced precision. You yearn, your fingers massaging your own breasts, trying to find some relief for the overwhelming wave that begins to take over.

“Lissa,” you exclaimed her nickname like a prayer. “Please.”

“You think you’re so smart. Flirting with that Stronzo on purpose just to get fucked by me later. I know you better than that, doll.” Purrs the redhead against the sensitive skin, her words sending vibrations of pleasure making the knot in your stomach slowly loosen with each degradation.

“I held back so much not to fuck you in that damn gym,” she continues raising her head. The pink lips shining with your wetness. “In front of that motherfucker to prove that you're just a brat desperate for mommy's attention. Isn't that true?"

“Yes, mommy. I'm a...brat who enjoys your attention.” you scream breaking under the intensity of the sensation.

Satisfied, Melissa buries her head between your pussy again, nibbling you with her sharp teeth. Tears begin to stream down your eyes, the feeling becoming too much. Your legs close around your girlfriend's head, keeping her trapped and slightly suffocated, your eyebrows twitch in concern. But she smiles widely, her own excitement borning. The Italian wouldn't mind if you suffocated her even more, finding the idea of passing out while pushing you to the edge hot.

As your senses heightened, you noticed a peculiar sensation — a slight blurring of the edges of vision and a distant echo in your hearing. Melissa, sensing your arousal nearing its peak, intensified her efforts, her fingers and tongue working in sync to stimulate your most sensitive areas.

Suddenly, with a shuddering cry, your body convulsed in ecstasy, a rush of liquid escaping you as you experienced the intense release of squirting for the first time. Your cum splashed onto Melissa's mouth and chin. She moaned softly, savoring your taste as she continued to gently lap your folds drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

You gazed at the ceiling, feeling simultaneously grounded and weightless. Drifting in a dreamlike state you struggled to anchor yourself back to reality, still overwhelmed and sore.

Melissa, noticing your distant gaze and subdued responses, felt a pang of concern. She gently traced your cheek, her touch seeking reassurance in their connection. Yet, as you remained unresponsive, the redhead’s worry deepened.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her heart sinking with the realization that perhaps she had misread your intimacy. She cursed herself for possibly misinterpreting the intensity, fearing she had hurt you or worse.

The older woman propped herself up on one elbow. “Amore, breathe with me.” She said, her tone soothing guiding you through slow, deep breaths.

Gradually, the haze began to lift, the bedroom coming back into sharper focus. You felt a sense of clarity returning, though the confusion still lingered at the edges of your mind. You looked at Melissa, finding solace in your girlfriend's steady gaze.

Your eyes reflected a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. “I'm tired, Mel," you admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “And a bit overwhelmed.”

She nodded understandingly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “It’s okay, hon. I've got you.” She murmured, her words a comforting promise.

She gets up, trying not to make any noise, and goes to the bathroom. There, she wets a small towel with warm water, wringing it out before returning to the room. Melissa sits down next to you again and begins to gently clean your aching body, starting with your face and working your way down to your neck, shoulders and arms. Each touch is delicate, as she whispers sweet words of comfort and love.

After cleaning you up, Melissa grabs a bottle of soothing lotion from the bedside table and begins massaging your reddened skin, soothing any discomfort it may have caused. “I love you, baby.” she says, kissing your shoulder blades, while her hands continue their careful work.

You sigh, relaxing more with each touch. “I love you.”

She finishes the massage, tucks you with a soft blanket and lies down next to you, her presence comforting. And wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back. You intertwine your fingers with hers, your breathing syncing with the calm rise and fall of her chest. Together, you fall into a peaceful sleep.

——

The next morning, you walked into school, steps a little uneven, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. Melissa was right beside you, a wide grin plastered on her face as she stifled laughter. She kept a supportive hand on your lower back, guiding you down the hallway.

As you made your way, you passed Ava and Barbara, who were welcoming students. Ava raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She made a scissor motion with her fingers, earning an exasperated sigh from the veteran teacher.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #wlw #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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fuckyeahisawthat · 4 months ago

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Fully prepared for this to be a minority position but I am deeply emotionally invested in Paul and Chani not getting back together in Dune Messiah. Not just because I love angst and tragedy (I do) but because I don't think there's a way to do it without undermining the narrative and character arcs that Dune Part Two executed so well.

Paul and Chani's relationship in the Villeneuve films exists on a totally different foundation from what's in the books. It's a political love story and you simply cannot separate out the politics from the romance. Their connection starts with the politics and the love is built on top of that.

It's not just that they happen to fall in love while fighting together in an anti-colonial guerrilla war; that is why she falls in love with him. Because he is willing to take the same risks as her in fighting for her people's liberation. Not by trying to impose himself as a leader (at first) but side by side with her as comrades and equals. Let me fight beside you. That's all I'm asking. He is quite literally willing to put his body on the line for a struggle that's been with her all her life, that she cannot escape, but that he could walk away from if he chose. And in fact he proves himself to be an asset and not a liability in this struggle and they start winning. And yeah that shit's romantic as fuck!! Kudos to whoever on the writing team was like actually direct action solidarity is sexy af because they were right and they should say it! There clearly is some attraction or at least interest in Paul on Chani's part from fairly early on, but it's only after he's proven his political worth, in battle, that she allows herself to trust him on a personal level enough to begin a romantic relationship with him. (And it's only after Paul takes off the Atreides ring, the symbol of the fact that he came there to rule over her, that the narrative permits him to advance to this point.) They could have been comrades but not lovers, but never the other way around, because there's no other version of Paul that this Chani would have fallen in love with.

It's important that they meet in circumstances where Paul has no structural power over her. Chani never would have trusted the Paul who stood in the colonial palace and pledged to "honor" Stilgar by offering him hospitality on his own fucking planet. Because she would have known, just as Stilgar did, that such an offer of fellowship, no matter how genuine and well-intentioned, is not made on equal terms. It's only once Paul has been forcibly separated from his colonial privilege that they have even a chance to approach each other as human beings. (And, in a sort of dark irony, that violence becomes a bridge that connects them. That Paul is driven not by abstract power games among the Great Houses but by real grief and anger over the violent death of people he loves at the hands of the Harkonnens must surely be something Chani understands. And it builds a level of trust and empathy between them, that she doesn't have to explain the stakes of what they're fighting for. He knows it in his bones.)

It's not a coincidence that all their explicitly romantic moments are shot through with politics. Their first kiss is wrapped up in a conversation about what it means to be Fremen and I would very much like to be equal to you. (Yes, he's flirting his ass off with that line, but I do think he is sincere.) Their single post-coital scene has I'm no messiah, I'm a fedaykin of Sietch Tabr--not just a commitment to her people and her home but to her specific form of political struggle in which he is joining her. Throughout their whole relationship, the personal and the political are so interwoven as to be indistinguishable from one another.

This kind of commingling of emotional commitment to a person with political commitment to a culture/people/cause could have very easily slid into something tokenizing or fetishistic, but the writing manages to avoid that by sticking very strongly to a couple of guardrails. One, Chani is not some passive prize to be won, but an active agent of her own liberation, whether Paul is in the picture or not. She is the Fremen liberation struggle within the political allegory of the film; she is its voice and embodiment from the moment we meet her. On a character level, she is doing her thing and it's up to Paul to either follow or get out of the way. Even though we know he is afraid of her dying, he never once suggests she leave the front lines of armed struggle (can you imagine?) because that struggle is such a fundamental part of who she is and what he loves about her.

Two--and this one is important for what comes next--the narrative never trivializes the political side of their relationship in favor of the romantic. The second Paul reaches for any kind of power over the Fremen, over Chani, the trust between them is broken and the romance cannot continue. She might still love him as a person--you don't just turn that off--but she cannot be in love with him as the Lisan al-Gaib, fulfillment of a false prophecy she hates; as the Duke of Arrakis, her colonial overlord; or as the Emperor of the Known Universe, overlord of her overlord. As soon as he pulls that shit he is just another colonizer and she's done with him.

And like, kudos to the narrative for being absolutely uncompromising on that point! That's what makes both the political allegory and the personal tragedy hit so hard! Paul, bro, you fucked that one up good and now you are Experiencing a Consequence! I LOVE that in the end, love isn't enough. All the love in the world isn't enough to keep Chani from walking out at the end of the film, because the foundation that love is built on is broken and cannot be repaired.

(I do believe that by the time he is declaring himself Emperor, Paul thinks he has no choice, that this is the only way to save the people he loves from any number of worse fates. But that, too, is a betrayal, of a kind I don't think Paul fully understands. Because either you think the Fremen are capable of governing their own planet or you don't. Deciding unilaterally that having a "friendly" imperialist in power is the best you can hope for is a profound denial of the agency of the people Paul claims to be doing this in the name of. It's either paternalism or despair, and neither are acceptable modes of thinking for a serious revolutionary. Chani would tell you as much.)

The thing with making a bold writing choice like that is that...you cannot then walk it back in the next film with Chani choosing to forgive Paul or coming around to seeing the world his way and understanding that yes it's politically unsavory and he's manipulating the people he said he was in solidarity with but this was the only way! If you do that then the whole framework of what the first two films are trying to say about power and imperialism and resistance and solidarity collapses into incoherence. On a thematic level Dune Messiah is all about the consequences of Paul taking power the way he did and these are the consequences.

And on a character level...I just don't see any way to come back from such a deep betrayal. Even if some part of Chani still loves him. Even if she's pregnant with his child(ren). (We have like, zero information about how movie Chani feels about family and pregnancy and childrearing that would indicate that she would care one bit about her children's biological father being involved in their lives when he is otherwise busy being a space dictator.)

There are several categories of scenarios I can think of to get Paul and Chani interacting again (she goes back to him as a spy/assassin; she's brought back to the palace under some sort of duress, "for her safety" or even as a political prisoner) but none of them involve them being genuinely together as a couple. I could also see them not interacting at all for most of Dune Messiah. What I cannot see is any scenario in which she genuinely forgives him or ever fucking trusts him again. That shit is over and there's no getting it back.

#dune #dune part two #dune messiah #dune messiah speculation #paul atreides #chani kynes #paul x chani #paulchani #managed to tease out a lot of ship thoughts i have been having in one form or another in this post #let some character choices be irrevocable #it's narratively satisfying even when it's sad

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arminsumi · 2 years ago

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can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

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barleyo · 6 months ago

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Nobody Rides for Free.

Shiu Kong X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: look at me posting again :3 anyway writing this was a struggle for me because i didn't know how to stretch it out, but i hope you all like it even though it's shorter than my usual work </3

Tags: fwb, p in v, car sex, quickie, semi-public, sex while driving

Wordcount: 0.7k

"Can't see the road over your head, dolly. There you go, that's better."

Your legs were starting to get tired from riding Shiu. You hated being on top, it was so much work. Plus, it felt so much better to be trapped under him. He was driving, though, so you had to relent and prop yourself over his lap to ride his cock.

"I told you to pull over," you mumbled, keeping your head tucked on his shoulder to keep the road in his view.

The last thing you wanted to do was to crash. What an embarrassing scene that would make for the first responders. You could imagine the headline clear as day: 'local woman speared to death on the cock of her boyfriend (?) during fatal car crash.'

"I don't have time to pull over. I've got real clients after this, you know. People who I actually have business with."

"Yeah, well," you pulled back, arms thrown over his shoulders to keep you upright, "I can't imagine you're enjoying this very much. You can't even see me with your eyes on the road."

He bucked his hips upwards sharply, satisfied grin on his face.

"I'm a multitasker. Believe me, I'm having a great time." His eyes darted to his rear view mirror, eyeing the sparse traffic with a faint smugness. "Especially knowing any of these people could see you like this."

You groaned in discomfort at the idea. Getting a ride to work didn't seem worth all this trouble suddenly. Why did he have to be so fond of teasing you? If his dick didn't feel so good, you were certain you would've thrown yourself into oncoming traffic to end the humiliation of nearly getting caught at each turn.

You swatted half heartedly at his chest and turned away from him, face flushed. Your skirt was crumpled from how you had to roll it up to fuck him. The hem came above your ass where Shiu had greedily parked his hand.

"Ah— feels like you're close." He slipped his hand from your asscheek to your hip, assisting you in gliding up and down. Quick, steady sets of bouncing and grinding down on his length. "Don't grip around me so tight, I still have to focus here," he said, jaw clenched as he tried not to cum.

"Fuck." Your mouth desperately pushed against his.

You cornered him into a sloppy, spit-soaked kiss, letting your tongue twist against his. You focused only on the hot friction that his cock gave you as it milked the ridges of your messy, stuffed hole.

He broke the kiss briefly, trying to catch his breath. He didn't dare take his eyes off of you. Besides, he had driven you to work many a time. It was muscle memory at this point, so he was quick to get right back into the heat of the moment with you, joining your mouths together again.

As the car turned into the lot of your job, you made rough, speedy movements in an attempt to get both of you off in time. Your cervix was taking a real beating from his heavy tip being jammed against it, but the pain was sweet and completely worth it.

What wasn't worth it was the way that Shiu—lost in pleasure— hit the curb.

"Damn it, Shiu!"

You clutched your metaphorical pearls in shock. The adrenaline was kicked out of your system and replaced with annoyance at the man.

"You scared the hell out of me!" you spat.

Clumsily, you pulled off of his lap, leaving his cock stiff and neglected with your absence.

"Oh, come on, princess." He stopped the car and watched as you grabbed your things and rolled your skirt back down. "Don't be that way."

You shot him a dirty look but couldn't help the hint of amusement that was in your eyes as you slammed his door shut.

"I think I'll just walk home tonight." You wiped at the slick still dribbling down your thigh with your sleeve, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Right. Walking." Shiu watched as you stumbled away into your stuffy office building. Your knees had small bruises already forming on them, and your gait was questionable at best. "I'll see you at six."

#jjk x reader #shiu kong x reader #shiu kong x you #jjk smut #x reader #smutfic #shiu kong #shiu kong smut #jjk x you

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xyywrites · 22 days ago

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How Readers (sometimes) Misinterpret Authors’ Intentions

1. Intentional Ambiguity vs. Overthinking

Author’s Intent: “I left this scene open to interpretation so readers could make their own conclusions.” Reader’s Take: “This tiny detail about the red mug represents the protagonist’s repressed anger about societal norms.” Reality: Sometimes a red mug is just a red mug.

2. Symbolism Gone Astray

Author’s Intent: “This flower represents hope.” Reader’s Take: “This flower symbolizes death because it withers when plucked, and the author is making a grim commentary on human frailty.”

3. Romanticizing the Villain

Author’s Intent: “This antagonist is morally complex but undeniably a terrible person.” Reader’s Take: “They’re just misunderstood.”

4. When Flaws Are Misread as Virtues

Author’s Intent: “This character is selfish and manipulative, even if they have a charming exterior.” Reader’s Take: “They’re just confident and know what they want!” Reality: There’s a fine line between writing a layered character and readers excusing all their bad behavior.

5. The “Is This About Me?” Problem

Author’s Intent: “This story is completely fictional and inspired by nothing in my personal life.” Reader’s Take: “So the protagonist’s struggles with their mother must be based on the author’s own issues, right?” Reality: Nope.

6. Missing the Subtext

Author’s Intent: “This character is secretly in love with their best friend, and I hinted at it through subtle gestures and unspoken moments.” Reader’s Take: “Why didn’t you just make them kiss?” Reality: Not everyone picks up on the nuances of subtext, and that’s okay.

7. Fixating on Small Details

Author’s Intent: “This throwaway line is just a bit of flavor to make the world feel more real.” Reader’s Take: “This line holds the key to unraveling the entire plot!” Reality: …It doesn’t.

8. Ignoring the Author’s Voice

Author’s Intent: “This story has an unreliable narrator, so everything they say should be questioned.” Reader’s Take: “This narrator’s perspective is 100% accurate, and the author must share their views.” Reality: Narrators and authors are not the same person.

9. Forcing a Moral Where There Isn’t One

Author’s Intent: “This is a story about human nature, not a moral lesson.” Reader’s Take: “The author clearly wants us to see this as a cautionary tale about the dangers of ambition.” Reality: Not all stories are meant to be prescriptive.

10. “The Author Didn’t Mean That”

Author’s Intent: “Actually, I did mean that.” Reader’s Take: “This interpretation is better than what the author said.” Reality: Sometimes readers assume their interpretation supersedes the author’s, and while that’s valid for them, it’s not always accurate.

Once a story is published, it belongs as much to the readers as it does to the author. Misinterpretations are inevitable, but they can also be insightful. They show how stories evolve and take on new meanings.

But if your readers are wildly off the mark, remember:

1. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.

2. It’s okay to clarify your intentions, but it’s also okay to let them speculate.

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babeejeon · 6 months ago

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Accidental Kiss - KNJ

Author Note: Finally I am back with a new writing in Accidental Kiss Mini Series. I was actually struggling with finding concepts that lead to accidental kiss. Yesterday I was watching a episode of My Sweet Mobster and I got inspired by the scene in the playground. So I decided to write this one. Hope you enjoy and Happy Birthday to our Joonie in advance.

Prompt: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

-Kim Namjoon fluff, best friends to lovers au, Namjoon version of Accidental Kiss Mini Series-

It was a few days after Joon’s birthday and you two finally get to celebrate it together. What sucks in adult birthdays is that no one cares if it is on weekdays. Is it really hard to give an of day to your employee for their birthday? Are we really living in such a horrible world? Though, even if they gave him an off day, it would be hard for you to take the day off.

That is the reason you two decided to celebrate it on Saturday. Since the weather is nice, you thought it would be nice to go for a picnic. It is always good to cherish last few good days left from summer. Unlike Namjoon, you loved summer, so you want to hold on to these last warm days. Besides he is the nature boy anyways.

So, you found a really good national park outside of the city and prepared a big basket of yummy food and drinks. Not forgetting his birthday gift, you got on your car and drove to his apartment. When you arrive, he was already down, waiting for you. You rolled your window down, “Come on birthday boy!”. He chuckled and got on the car. “Hi!”.

“Hi! Are you excited for my surprise?” you asked. He nodded. “Yeah, very much.”

“Okay. Let’s hit the road, then!” you said and started the drive. “By the way you are responsible for the music.” You said and he connected his Bluetooth to the car.

When finally the park was visible he gasped in surprise. “Wow! I never came here before.” He said.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” you glanced at him for a brief moment. “It is.”

After driving a little while inside the park, you parked your car and found yourselves a place. After carrying your stuff, you opened the folding chairs and table and spread out a cloth to the grass. He peeked inside the basket, “Wow, you prepared a lot.”.

“It’s your birthday after all.” You said.

After taking everything out, he took a picture of all and of course a picture of you two. “I doubt if we can eat all of it.” He said.

“It is better to have more than less.” You said. You two eat and talk a lot. But after some time you started to feel sluggish. You yawned. He yawned after you. You started to laugh at the same time.

“That’s what you get when you eat that much.” He said while yawning again.

“Don’t worry we still have coffee.” You said and poured two cups of coffee. You take your cup and sit on the cloth in the grass. “Come here!” you pat next to yourself. He complied.

You stared around silently while sipping your coffee. The view was amazing. Nature really did it’s show as always. No words needed, the trees, flowers, birds and butterflies were mesmerizing. After a while both of you were lying down on the cloth and watching the sky, pointing each other clouds and trying to figure out what they look like.

“Do you see this one? It looks like a cat.” You pointed out.

“Come on, it doesn’t look like a cat.” He chuckled and turned towards you while putting his right hand under his head.

“No, it does.” You insisted while turning towards him. He shook his head side to side, “You and your obsession with cats.”.

“It is not an obsession, it is love.” You argued. He laughed, “Of course, it is.” and he ruffled your hair. You laughed along with him.

Then you sighed. “It is beautiful here, isn’t it?”.

He nodded. “I can lie here all day.”

You nodded. “Me too. It is as if all the world is so far. No work, no responsibilities or stuff.” You said.

“You wish you were a cat, right? No work, just meow meow.” He grinned.

“Stop teasing me.” You said while grinning back.

It was a lovely day, but just like every good thing, it has coming an end too. It was slowly getting dark, and you have to start picking your stuff. So, you tried to get up and walk towards the basket on Namjoon’s side but his long legs decided to come on your way and you trip over his leg and fall on top of him. And it wasn’t all, cause your lips also fall just on top of his lips, as well.

Your eyes widened, caught his eyes in panic and his eyes were as wide as yours. Then you realized that it would be better if you get off of him. So, you pull yourself just to part your lips and mumbled “Sorry.” And tried to move your body, only for him to press his had to your waist to prevent you from getting up.

“It’s okay.” He mumbled, but not like you. He didn’t look embarrassed like you. In fact, he did look super serious. And he was staring at your eyes, something was prominent in his eyes that you never catch before.

“I should get up.” You mumbled. ‘Oh, God! What is wrong with me?’ You could barely form a sentence. But he pressed his hand with a little more pressure, as if saying no. His eyes were saying something as well, staring deeply in yours.

“Do you mind if I kiss you, properly, this time?” he asked with a very deep voice.

“Ki-kiss? Kissing like.. me?” you asked with a high-pitched voice almost like your high school self. ‘Why do I have to stutter like that’ you thought to yourself.

“Yes, you.” He said, grinning to your shyness. And somehow you find yourself nodding and closing to your eyes. He put his lips to yours and rolled you to get on top of you. He kissed you slowly and tenderly. Then pulled back and pecked your forehead.

He lie next to you to stare at you. But you were just squeezing your eyes shut harder than before. And brought your hands to cover your face. He laughed at you.

“I can’t just look at you.” You said behind your hands.

“Oh, come on Y/N. I want to see your face.” He said, enjoying the whole situation.

“You just caught me off guard and now I can’t look at you.”

“What do you mean off guard? You didn’t kiss me because you wanted it?” he asked. He was sounding serious. You don’t want him to misunderstand you, so you take your hands down and sit up.

“I didn’t say that I didn’t want. I just, .. just feel a little shy.” You were looking down while talking.

You saw his hands reaching yours. “Come on, it’s me. There is nothing to be shy. I am your best friend Joon, remember?” he asked.

You sighed. “That’s exactly why I feel shy!” you protest.

“Well, it just makes you cuter. There is a thing called cuteness aggression, you know?”

You looked at him on that. “That was cheesy.”

“No, that is what it is.” He said and pulled you in his arms. You felt better now that he couldn’t see your face. So, you wrapped your arms around him, too.

“What’s all of these mean now? That, I am a cutie patotie?” you asked. ‘What an attempt to ask?’ you mentally slapped your face.

He laughed. “Yes, you are my cutie patotie now.”

PS: During the whole car ride he teased you, cause “It was supposed to be him to be the clumsy one!”.

#kim namjoon #namjoon #joonie #kim namjoon fluff #namjoon fluff #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #bts #fluff #best friends to lovers #accidental kiss #accidental kiss mini series #bts x reader #friends to lover au

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gh0st-ratt · 3 days ago

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Charles, Edwin and action

Putting my two cents into the dbda analysis to talk about the boys' relationship with action/movement throughout the show

Within the first episode Charles easily defines himself as the "brawn" and Edwin as the "brain". This presents Charles as what I like to call a physical response character and Edwin as a verbal response character, which reinstates what has already been shown to us as the boys dealt with the WW2 ghost: Edwin recites the Latin enchantment as Charles grapples with the ghost. By doing this, job is jobbed, case is closed etc etc.

I feel I have to mention that this almost unconscious dance between them is something that Edwin couldn't have in Hell. Movement and speaking meant being caught and torn apart. But it's also the fact that he probably wouldn't have even had anyone to talk to in Hell, and now he gets to be a part of a duo where his main role is to speak and explain knowledge.

Anyhow, this pattern continues in most things that the boys do; while at the Dandelion shrine, Edwin is the one to read the writing on the shrine and verbalises (to both characters and audience) what the intent of the Dandelion sprites is. And then Charles is the one to pick up the vase (and break it).

The Devlin House is of note because this is the first time that we see this dance fail. Edwin has explained what the Stone Tape Theory is, and now it is time to look for what might have caused the loop. This is where their roles flip, if just for a moment. Charles talks to Crystal about how he connects to Hope Devlin while reading through her diary. He understands her situation, her fear, how it feels to be struggling under your parent's command. And he actually talks about it. In that scene, Charles is the verbal response character. You could say that it's because it isn't Edwin that he's talking to that he can change his role in the dance. Crystal isn't a part of their dance as the 'brain' and 'brawn', so he doesn't have to fit into the role of the physical response character with her.

(You could go as far as to say that this unfamiliar flip of roles is what leads them astray. Edwin has completed both the verbal and physical aspects of this scenario, the dance is off. You can go even further to say that Edwin didn't even complete the physical aspect correctly, he got the wrong trigger, he's not used to being the character of action)

It is then after all this, still in the Devlin house, that Charles steps back into being the physical response character when he attempts to attack Mr Devlin. This is the first time that the boys completing their roles has completely backfired. (You could argue with Esther, being hit back was just the response of a typical fight. You go to hit and you miss and get hit back.) Charles attempting his role as the 'brawn' takes him out of commission entirely, because there isn't that balance. He hasn't actually spoken about much and instead internalised it for 30+ years, and now uses that emotion to act. And it doesn't work.

Charles never really seems to make actions about himself, and the times he does? It never really works out for him. The Devlin house takes him out of commission, and the Lighthouse Leapers have his friends reject him for his actions (I might talk about this another time). Even his kiss with Crystal that he instigated doesn't go anywhere.

An interesting note is that the times when Charles is much more passive in his actions is with his relationship with Crystal. He initiates the kiss first, but even before that he's almost tiptoeing around what Crystal might want or not want (I've seen a few people talk about this better than I could so I won't get too into it).

It's only really until after he and Crystal break it off that he starts really being a man of action for himself and not just others. He argues to not take Monty's case, he calls Crystal out on her lies about her powers, he stands on his decision to not let Crystal go to Hell. He's not being passive about what he might want and how it might clash with what others want.

Charles' arc and connection to his relationship with action kind of ends at the end of ep5 (Dead Dragons) when Edwin says "Let's get [Charles] sorted first" and they never really go back to Charles' arc lol

Edwin's relationship with his role as the verbal response character is interesting because part of his arc is about how he cannot verbalise what he is wanting. The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers makes that abundantly clear. To Niko he denies by "Absolutely not" wanting to kiss the Cat King, and he doesn't know what he wants with Monty. The Cat King has to literally spell him to get Edwin to admit what he wants from the agency ("[He] can make [his] case for leniency").

Edwin can explain anything for a case, anything for knowledge, but he does not like verbalising his wants. We see him struggle with this towards Monty at the swing set, he "-thinks it best if [they] stop seeing one another", but he also isn't sure if that's what he actually wants. It then!! Continues!! As Edwin begins to say what he wants, that there are "-feelings. That [he] thought were never to be spoken of.", Monty swoops (ha) in as the physical character in that moment, sealing it with a kiss.

But Edwin didn't finish! He as the spoken character has not finished his role before the action response occurs! And it doesn't work. The dance isn't working, they're stepping on each other's feet.

We then reach the Case of the Creeping Forest, wherein Edwin's feelings for Charles are, at this point in the narrative, one of the main things he cannot verbalise. So instead, Monty verbalises it! He is the one to finally state that "Those feelings that [Edwin has]? Are for Charles. He is the one [Edwin loves].".

(As I'm writing this I'm realising that Monty actually creates his own role as both a physical and verbal response character within like two weeks of being human compared to 2 oldass ghosts good for him)

Edwin's feelings for Charles have been established by the way he typically acts (with words), but not by himself, because he cannot do that. He has spent so long denying himself and avoiding verbalising anything akin to his own wants that he still cannot say it.

But then it is Charles' turn to establish how he feels for Edwin with his typical: actions. And how does this occur? With Charles' putting his hand over Edwin's as they are dragged by Teethface. It doesn't matter if the feelings being presented are or aren't exactly the same, it's still love. It's part of their dance. Edwin's perspective has been spoken, and then it's time for Charles' perspective to be acted on, and both times it means that they love each other.

Edwin's relationship with expressing want is also tied into his changing of clothes in ep6. One of the first things we are told about Edwin is that he "-[doesn't] like to try new things", but we see him in ep6 trying something new for Charles. This is Edwin, unable to express how he feels quite yet, but acting on something new.

Hell is really where the boys' relationship with action and movement turns almost entirely on it's head, because Edwin is Back In Hell so he can't really be the words or actions character, which leaves it for Charles to be both; which we've seen mess up in the past, but it works in Hell.

Charles gets to Hell fine, (he acts on ringing that bell impulsively because why not), he finds Edwin, he tells him they will get out, and then he is able to leave again! In the entirety of Hell Charles is able to go back and forth between a physical and verbal response character like he hasn't previously.

This then ties into our favourite myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.. and media illiteracy. The audience and Edwin know how the myth ends "-That story ends tragically.". That's the point of the myth, it's a tragedy. But Edwin (brains, words, verbal) finished the story and cannot choose their own ending. He's stuck with the understanding that the story never ends well, but he still acts on it.

In this story, Eurydice physically forces Orpheus to look, with the understanding that it could still end tragically.

Edwin forces Charles' to turn back to him and he finally finally acts on what he has been feeling to say "Charles, I'm in love with you", knowing it's a tragedy.

But Charles (brawn, actions, physical) did not finish the ending and therefore has the agency to change it. But he changes it with words. He turns around and he says "You're the most important person in the world to me" and he says "We have literally forever to figure it out".

Edwin and Charles, despite living in their unconscious dance roles of 'brain' and 'brawn', respectively, for 3 decades, swap their roles for the first time successfully in the show when Edwin takes a leap to act on his feelings and Charles responds with nothing but kind words and the reminder that their story doesn't have to be a tragedy, and they do this all on the steps of literal Hell because what wouldn't they do for each other.

#dead boy detectives #hey sorry this is batshit long #tried to get images to make it more interesting but i couldn't find them ANYWHERE #stay tuned for analysis of colour ig #i'm sure my old lit teacher is thrilled i'm using his teachings to analyse gay ghosts on the internet #save dead boy detectives #dbda analysis #charles rowland #edwin payne #the case of the devlin house #the case of the lighthouse leapers #the case of the creeping forest #the case of the very long stairway #zero says thingz

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

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Just A Trim

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I had this idea like this morning or last night, I don't remember. And then I was not physically/mentally able to write until the sudden Need To Write hit me and I cranked this out

When writing this, I noticed I kept making references to Tav being shorter, but bc I want this to be enjoyed by everyone, I took them out. Pls let me know if I missed any instances of it tho

Ending loosely inspired by this scene from Big Fish

Warnings: scissors, brief references to low self-worth, anxiety, pure fluff

Word Count: 1,287

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion didn’t trust his hair with just anybody. Pulling on it during sex? Okay. Playing with it while cuddling? It takes him a bit to actually trust someone enough to enjoy it. Washing it? Absolutely off the table. Cutting it? Out of question, and he’d probably insult you for asking.

So when he came to you, frowning and grumbling, and struggled through grit teeth to ask if you would please help him cut his hair? That meant something.

You tried not to let your glee show as you dropped whatever you were working on and followed him into your shared bathroom. He plopped onto the edge of the tub like a pouting child who’d just got a good telling-to after misbehaving. He held the scissors up for you to take.

“If you cut my ears, darling, I’m going to make you regret the day you were ever born.” He glares over his shoulder as you step into the tub behind him, rolling up your sleeves and taking the scissors. “And don’t you dare do anything funny. All I need is a simple trim. I assume you’re capable enough to manage that?”

You smiled as he growled at you like an annoying customer. You lean down and gently kiss his cheek. “I promise I’ll only take a little bit off.”

There’s an unspoken conflict on his face. He’s not sure he actually wants you to go through with this… But he’s sort of out of options. Any salons nearby closed before the sun went down, and he definitely did not trust any of your past traveling companions to do the job. No. He’d just have to trust you. He sighs and faces forward. “Just… be careful.”

“I will, my love.”

It had been difficult to notice during the course of your adventure together, but his hair did grow. Not as fast as yours, but curls that delicately curled around the edges of his ears now almost completely covered them, like strangling vines. You’d heard him cuss too many times when a strand got caught in his earrings and tugged when he went to brush the hair from his face. The curl that lay persistently over his forehead now brushed his upper eyelid. Very frequently, he would huff and fight to push it back, with nothing to show for it.

With gentle, smooth motions, you combed your fingers through his hair. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, running from his hairline to the nape of his neck, and carefully untangling any knots all the while. You heard his quiet sigh, and saw his shoulders begin to relax. You pressed a kiss to his head.

Assessing his full head of hair, you figured out where to begin. You separated out a section, trying to determine how long it used to be, so you knew how short to cut it now. He tensed again.

“I’m going to start cutting it now, okay?” He hummed, short and anxious. You pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Relax, dear. I’ve got you.”

“It’s difficult to when you have the means to turn me into a glorified clown.”

“But I won’t.”

He sighed. “I know.”

You wait for him to relax again, and he nods slightly. You take the scissors to the first section of hair. With a shink, a small clump of hair falls into the tub. The sound certainly doesn’t fill him with confidence, but he trusts you won’t mess it up too bad…

You begin talking about your friends, about the letters they’ve sent lately keeping you updated with their lives. Apparently, Gale sent some interesting information regarding potential cures for his vampirism - though most of it was only on temporary remedies. “In good time,” you’d assured him when he groaned. Stepping into the sun again would be nice, but an end to his sanguine hunger would be better.

It takes a while to cut all his hair, especially with how meticulous you’re being. You give special attention to the hair around his ears, making sure not to nick him. You step out of the tub and in front of him while you cut the stubborn curl there, where you catch it before it can fall into his lap, and deposit it in the basin. He can’t help watching you then. You have such determination and focus on the task at hand. Only once the curl is trimmed do you actually see him staring, and you smile and peck his lips. He rather enjoyed that.

As you go through each section, you consistently run your fingers through his hair. It’s the most relaxing bit, and he’s certainly glad he asked you for this. He would die before Gale ever got his grubby mitts anywhere near his hair.

By the time you finish, his eyes are closed. He listens to your chatter, to the random tunes you hum, to the way you hold your breath as you make a cut. It’s rather peaceful, despite the underlying nervousness to it all. He can’t see himself. All he can hope is you make him look nice.

You brush your fingers through his hair to knock loose any stray strands. It falls like snow by your feet. Satisfied with your work, you begin running water for a bath, kicking the hair down the drain before you plug it to fill the tub.

“Done, love?”

“Mhm!” You lean around to kiss his cheek again. “You can take a bath, wash all the hair off, and I can get you some fresh clothes.”

He grins. He stands and turns to face you, taking your hands in his and running his thumbs along your knuckles. He’s worried, anxious, but he tries not to let it show. “How do I look?” he asks with a careful bravado, tilting his head to the side, chin upturned, like a haughty nobleman.

You let go of his hand to cup his cheek. He automatically leans into it, mask slipping ever so slightly to reveal his worry. “You look beautiful. I think I did a rather fine job.”

“‘Rather fine?’ Oh, darling,” he lilts, “for your sake, I’d better look the spitting image of perfection.”

“You always do.” It’s earnest. A solid fact to oppose the teasing of his words.

He cannot prevent the true smile that tugs the corners of his mouth as he leans in to claim yours, tasting and nipping and teasing with soft sighs of content. You are much too good to him, but he doesn’t say that out loud, lest you lecture him and treat him to endless spoils until he believes it himself.

He reluctantly pulls away, but his lips continue to brush yours. “Bathe with me.”

You open your eyes to study his face. “Are you sure?”

“Undoubtedly.”

A mischievous spark glints in the corner of your eye as you grin wickedly. “Do I get to wash your hair?”

He chuckles. “Don’t push it.”

You hum. “Would you wash mine?”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

“I want… to turn off the tap before our bathroom floods.” You pull away and he has to laugh as you wade through the water to stop the steady stream. The warm water reaches just below your knees. You sigh, but the annoyance is dampened by your grin. “Look what you’ve done - distracting me like that. Now my pants are all wet.”

“All wet?” He makes a show of looking you up and down. “I don’t know, love. I see quite a few dry spots.”

Without warning, he steps into the large tub, still in his own clothes, and grabs you, pulling you down with him into the water. Your laughter fills the house. Astarion has never been more in love.

---

Tag List:

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#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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superhellstiel · 5 months ago

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The Season 8 Destiel Meta Post Nobody Asked For (and why I think the writers had a Destiel endgame option in mind for season 8)

Okay, so here's the long version of this post that almost nobody wanted, but I'm writing it anyway. This is LONG. I'm sorry. And I want to start with it seems like s8 is polarizing, but I rather liked it, and I think it's because I live in the (delusion?) truth of this theory. Stay with me if you want to Believe too. I think Season 8 was written with two possible outcomes in mind; and with an endgame Destiel being the more likely of the two that the writers anticipated. Sounds insane, I am aware. You will need to stick with me here and extend some trust, but I promise I can show my work.

We need to set the scene: It's 2012. We are launching headfirst into the height years of tumblr fan culture. Gangnam Style grips the nation. Destiel is huge in fanfiction & tumblr land. However, interestingly, we're about two years past show's peak. Already once SPN was slated to end with S5's natural arc conclusion, but it didn't-- it was renewed because it was making the CW money, simple as. They have pushed on into the Sera Gamble era with Seasons 6 and 7, which have their respective flashes of brilliance, but all-in-all generally struggled to find footing in the post-Apocalypse Supernatural verse that was never actually planned for. It's pretty evident that the writing and plotting isn't nearly as tight as S1-5, simply because 1-5 was all mapped out from the get go.

It's been interesting returning to the fandom after a decade, because I'm finding a lot of people now who really liked Season 7. No hate, to each their own, and maybe it was just the circles I was in at the time, but in the moment S7 wasn't received well at all. It felt like they kept inflating the "big bad" to heights that sometimes struggled to get fully fleshed out (which, to be fair, continues to be a writing problem going forward). And while watching S7 in Netflix binge-mode it doesn't feel quite so bad, at the time having a year's worth of your fave TV show where Sam and Dean are systematically and pointlessly stripped of everything that gave the show its signature personality was nothing short of torture (killing Cas, the Impala, torching Bobby's place, killing Bobby), all in the name of more man-pain. All of that punctuated with a lot of filler episodes that felt like more misses than hits, the absolutely insufferable Amy Pond plot, and dick jokes just because the writers thought it was funny.

Everyone's opinions on S6-7 aside, though, Supernatural wasn't landing financially for the CW either. Season 5 aired on Thursday nights, which is a fairly well respected time slot for established and successful shows, but with Season 6 and 7 we see a demotion to Friday night, 9 PM ET. This is basically the kiss of death for a cable TV show. You sent your shows to Friday night to die. The CW was looking to the future with newer shows and the writing was on the walls that this circus was probably wrapping up soon.

However, in true Supernatural fashion, it wouldn't fucking die. Honestly, and I can only speculate here, I imagine such a die-hard and still-growing fanbase coinciding with a huge spike in social media + ease of access to fan spaces with the surge in commonplace smart phones/laptop computers is probably what kept performing CPR on this show.

So along comes season 8. The show is being passed to Jeremy Carver and Ben Edlund as a returning writer to head up the show. Other people have discussed the Sera Gamble era in depth, but what you need to know here, basically, is that the Carver/Edlund mind are ones that a) have not shied away from queer themes and b) are a lot of those Destiel classics. We're talking Ghostfacers, The End, My Bloody Valentine, On the Head of a Pin, The Man Who Would Be King (Carver), and Free to Be You and Me, Point of No Return (Edlund). Essentially, Sera's philosophy tended to be "strip it back to just the Winchester brothers" and Carver & Edlund were generally more open to having the surrounding cast of supporting characters. And these two definitely don't shy away from Dean & Castiel's relationship.

Here is where my theory gets a little speculative: I believe this is the point where where SPN was given one last hail mary by the CW. New writers and a Wednesday night slot, you have one more chance to make this work, otherwise you're getting the axe. It was renewed pretty late, in early May of 2012 (compare to S6 being announced Feb 2010). S7 had barely scraped its renewal in late April the year prior, too.

Okay, so let's put ourselves in that position for a moment as showrunners sitting down in the Supernatural writer's room in May of 2012. There are two things that might happen: 1) you just might pull it off, and you do such a good job you pull the show from the proverbial grave or 2) you don't pull it off, and you need to make sure the show ends on a satisfying note that wraps things up neatly. And you need to write and film a season that, until you get the yes or no from the CW, can do either and both or neither, and you may need to pivot in one direction or the other pretty quickly while you're filming the back half of your season.

Enter the Destiel endgame theory, which I believe was their scenario 2. Time to introduce the exhibits from the season.

General: Flashbacks. I wish they'd explored Purgatory more too, but it would've taken up too much time if they might have to fast-track a series finale later. (Also Amelia should've been all made up in Sam's head to cope with losing Dean but again, different post. Maybe it became a time constraint to explore too much too, if they thought the show might be ending.)

The evidence:

8x01 We Need to Talk About Kevin & 8x02 - & What's Up Tiger Mommy? We get flashbacks of Dean tearing Purgatory apart to find Castiel. When he finds him, he makes it clear he's coming back to Earth with him.

8x03 - Heartache- This episode focuses on the love between an immortal being and a human.

8x05 - Blood Brother - Benny/Queer Dean discourse deserves its own post. You can take or leave this one for this post's theory.

8x07 - A Little Slice of Kevin - 1) Dean is clearly hiding a boner when Cas gets out of the shower? 2) We introduce that Dean is deeply upset that Castiel didn't make it through the portal-- to the degree he's faked an entire memory because he'd rather it be his fault Cas is gone than have been abandoned by him

8x08 - Hunteri Heroici - Castiel wants to join Dean as a hunter; we're beginning to establish Castiel's genuine desire to spend his life with the Winchesters. This is then juxtaposed when Naomi forces him to stay away at the end of the episode, further telling us this is Cas' desire vs. Heaven's.

8x11 - Larp and the Real Girl - This is mostly a fun episode, but it's an example of queerness being gently nudged to the forefront of plots without immediate dismissal or being the butt of a joke-- rare for SPN at the time.

8x13 - Everybody Hates Hitler - Ah, the Aaron "He was my Gay Thing" moment. Dean leans all the way into the flirting. Does not give the "don't swing that way" speech, gets flustered, is at a loss for words. He appears disappointed later when he was wrong. This has little precedent on the show when Dean's been perceived as gay, he usually dismisses it very quickly.

February 11, 2013: Supernatural is renewed for season 9, a week after Everybody Hates Hitler airs.

Per these estimates, 8x18 is the next episode to be filmed post-announcement, beginning 2/12.

8x16 - Remember the Titans - A Forbidden Love plot. You can take or leave this one for this theory.

8x17 - Goodbye Stranger - OK, here is our inflection point for editing, in my opinion. The last month of eps, more or less, have been pretty trials-centric or one-off. This episode airs 3/20/2013. At this point, we know we're getting a season 9, but we've been building with all of the above, and this ep was filmed pre-S9 announcement... so much so that we have an "I love you" in the original script for the infamous crypt scene. I fully believe it was filmed and edited out in post.

Second, Castiel turns the walls of Naomi's office/lobotomy lounge the bi pride colors during the crypt scene. Someone on the crew at Supernatural literally tweeted that morning to be on the lookout for special choices in Naomi's office. It was very intentional. Why else pick these colors and declare they're intentional? (I have searched up and down for this tweet but it was rare i was there i remember it [the tweet] all too well please trust me)

UPDATE: Tumblr hive mind found it and it was Jerry Wanek saying they were… crosses? In the intersecting lines in the windows? (that's how lines work? lol) And it was amidst a spell of saying fans were reaching in their analyses, and though some of his replies have that tinge, it's not direct about the color commentary. I never saw the back half of that saga or forgot about it, didn’t mean to misrepresent anything! Either way I’ve been corrected but that office is still bisexual and you can’t tell me otherwise

And don't get me started on the "unicorn" stuff, that one person you'd throw everything away for (but I understand this can be interpreted in many ways) However, the season is renewed, we've picked the path they never thought they'd actually pull off-- now we've got to backpedal this Destiel just enough to not impact our precious CW bottom lines, but not piss off our faction of fangirls who watch to ship.

8x20 - Pac Man Fever - Charlie tells Dean she thinks Castiel seems "dreamy". Charlie is very gay and would only say this to elicit a reaction from Dean, we don't really get much of one. Again, lack of a "speech" on his sexuality.

*Note 8x18 Freaks & Geeks and 8x20 Pac Man Fever are filler eps, I think they could've been pulled if we needed the extra time to sprint toward a series finale*

8x21 - The Great Escapist - 8x23 Sacrifice- We hit a real fast escalation toward the season finale from here. I actually think this overarching plot was more or less always the idea for the ending, but how exactly it was executed depended on the renewal status.

The Alternate Series Finale Ending (That I believe they thought they'd have to do when they wrote it): If they hadn't gotten renewed, we are set up for Sam to close the gates of Hell and Metatron to use a spell to close Heaven using the heart of a nephilim (product of human + angel love), the bow a cupid (an angel that arranges love in humans), and the grace of an angel in love with a human. Hell and Heaven shutter up, Sam dies, and Dean is left with a human Castiel who has, for the better part of the season, already been "testing out" being a hunter alongside Dean and has literally moved heaven and earth to have this. He will not have to be the immortal doomed to love a human, as in 8x03, or have the forbidden love of 8x16; we receive resolution on those subjects for our heroes that the monster-of-the-week characters did not. They resolve their feelings for each other, because if we kept Dean's crypt "I love you" and we establish Castiel's grace was in love with a human... well, what else is there to say? (Oh, yes, and they did exactly this and pulled the Destiel trigger in S15 when it was all ending.)

The Actual Ending (That I think they got surprised about the renewal and had to do): Backpedal. Edit. Only drop little subtext again. We just need Castiel's Regular Grace TM for this spell. We can keep selling merch and con tickets and get views if we appeal to the widest audience possible, and we're not taking risks now that we've performed a literal miracle rescue from a Friday night 9 PM slot.

And once we start Season 9, we get a LOT of being hit over the head with Castiel & Dean's Heterosexuality TM, so much so it's awkward and even out of character. (Human Cas sighing about boobs in early s9? Like please. Get real.) It's a HARD left turn, but it makes more sense if you consider it all in the context above. I just don't think they'd have gone in so hard on the bullet points I listed if they had thought Season 9 was in the bag.

TL;DR: I think we might've had Destiel in 2013, but if we had, we wouldn't have also had the rest of the seasons. Whether or not that's a good thing is up to you, but I think it was a combination of a lot of external factors, capitalism, and, well, it being 2013, sadly. I think they were cowards about it, but at the same time, even the writers probably weren't pulling every string, they also needed to answer to other agendas. Television is a medium that is rife with the push and pulls of a thousand factors that aren't the pure story. Idk how to really wrap this, but this has been over ten years in the making so enjoy the fruits of my brain rot.

#spn #spn meta #supernatural #destiel #destiel meta #you asked #do you regret it #i spent two hours on this

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