#Idk I'm used to AO3 so I'm leaning towards not

[huaiian]

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently. 

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips. 

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly. 

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. 

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,” 

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake. 

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?” 

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth. 

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back. 

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him. 

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away. 

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me,  begging for my co-” 

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec. 

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal. 

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention. 

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach. 

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair. 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing. 

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you. 

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve. 

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste. 

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye. 

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly. 

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak. 

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly. 

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy. 

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips. 

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other. 

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well. 

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily. 

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest. 

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again. 

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.” 

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

[siasthoughts]

« I'M THE ONE YOU ALWAYS NEED. »

CONCEPT; MORTEFI X F!READER . YOU WENT TO HIM TO ASK HIM TO INVENT SOMETHING.

TOPICS/WARNINGS; USING TOYS . QUICK ORAL (F!RECEIVING) . ATP IDK . NGL THIS FEELS LIKE A DRABBLE . P IN V . PROBABLY OOC

IM PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES AND IM IN LOVE W SO MANY OF THEM N R PLANNING SOME FICS 💞 also should i start writing on ao3 hehe

WORD COUNT; 1.5K

"hey..." you voiced awkwardly as you tapped your knuckles at his open office door, catching his attention. "yes, do you need anything?" he asks, turning towards you and putting down his tablet. you walk into the office nervously, "you said i could ask you if i needed anything made, right?" you questioned, averting your gaze and looking around the room. "yes... i did say that." he looks at you, crossing his arms as he observed your anxious expression. you gulped quietly, swallowing your pride as you really can't seem to find anyone that sells these things... "have you ever made a..."

his eyes widen slightly at your inquiry, a replica of male genitalia? he clears his throat, holding up his fist to his mouth as he took a few moments to think before speaking up, "well no but... i couldn't say that anyone ever asked either." he turns back around to his desk and sends the current hologram he's working on into his drafts before starting a new project, "so... can you?" you asked for reassurance, tilting your head to get a view of the hologram.

he turns to you, leaning on his desk as he looks down at you with rested eyes, you could feel that you've definitely piqued his interest with your 'invention idea.' "have you ever considered just finding someone to be able to..." his voice lowers, "-use the real thing?" he leans down just a bit, but enough for you to get what he's insinuating. "well sure, in a way." you answered, your voice tensing up.

"oh really?" he retreats back, bringing up his hand to push his glasses back, "which person have you thought of?" he interrogated, seemingly trying to pry a certain answer out of you. you look away, staying silent for a few moments he breaks the silence with a small sigh, "well, it's understandable if you wish to not answer. but, i'll try to make that for you. expect it by the end of the day."

he sure works quick. a relieved exhale, even though embarassment still ran through your body, huffs out of your lips as he turns back to his desk. "t-thank you." you stammer nervously as you swiftly made your way out without exchanging any last words with the red haired researcher.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

as you were just getting ready to leave the laboratory, you hear a certain voice call out from behind you. you turn to see a familiar figure with gold-rimmed glasses—mortefi, and he was holding a paper bag.

you feel heat rise to your face as you remember what you just asked of him. "here's what you requested." he walks over to you, holding up the bag as his tablet rested within his other hand. "oh... you really made one." your hands trembled slightly as you took the bag, feeling shame wash over you. "oh, and sorry if it might not be to your best liking, i used... my own as a slight reference." he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before looking back up at you.

shock runs through you for a few moments before you smiled awkwardly at him, "oh- okay. thanks a lot though!" you tried to force an enthusiastic answer, failing miserable as your voice cracked a bit. "well then, i guess it's time to head home and have fun, no?" he said rather coldly, and with a straight face as he eyed you. well that felt rather insulting. you laughed sheepishly as you clenched onto the paper bag.

you thought about it for a while, if it's like his... why not just use the actual reference?

"sir... have you ever bothered doing these things with someone?" you asked, making the tension even more unbearable and uncomfortable. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, certain conclusions and thoughts already being formed in his head. "yes, in a way." he answered, seemingly mocking your words from earlier. "then..." you took a small breath, "would you mind using this with me?" your voice shakes as your grip on the bag tightens.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

well fuck.

he now knelt in between your thighs, with your legs over his shoulders, taking in your most sensitive parts as you sat over his desk. "i suppose we need to make your body ready first, right?" he voiced hoarsely, how is he doing this with a stern and cold expression? you swallow a breath as you looked at his calm gaze, "y-yes." you stuttered in a failed attempt to seem composed.

he took off his glasses, and placing it on his cold table before placing a warm, wet kiss onto your core, making your body shiver. you looked down at him as he strategically worked his mouth around you. he held onto your thighs, keeping you stable as his tongue gently worked around your folds, preparing your body and riling up it's appetite. your legs lock his head within your thighs, pulling him closer to your pussy. "mm..." he groaned out, making him frown a bit though he didn't really... dislike it.

"sorry..." you mumbled quietly, loosening your grip as he pulls back, and getting back up "it's very much okay and reasonable." he assures as he reaches for the bag and takes out it's contents. you shift your gaze to what's now in his hands, he used his own as reference?! it was lengthy, and he brought it down to your already wet cunt. "are you ready?" he asked, positioning the dildo against your drooling pussy, "yes." you whined quietly, looking down at the silicone toy.

"alright, i'm gonna do it slowly, okay?" he assured, his voice was low as he slowly pushed it in, starting with the tip. he kept his attention down towards your hole, observing the way it clenched desperately around the fake cock. he clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed it further, earning him a small moan from you as he felt his pants tighten. well shit.

he notices the now growing bulge in his pants as he pushes the entire thing into you gently, "is it okay?" he asks, looking back up at your now pleasure-washed face. it turned him even more. "absolutely..." you responded breathily as you looked down to see his aching cock hiding under the fabric of his pants. "i'll move it now." he thrusted the toy in and out slowly, hearing the wet noises as your pussy resisted against the movement.

he groans, feeling extremely jealous of the silicone figure within his hands. you moaned at the sensation electrifying you, shooting shots of pleasure into your veins as his hands sped up. your body shook as he started to get rougher, now slamming it into you as a knot formed quickly within your core.

"i-i'm getting close..." you mewled out as your legs instinctively closed themselves, and your back arching as his hand kept themselves on your hip to keep you stable. you cry out as you feel the pleasure wash over you, that knot breaking apart as you feel warm liquid spill out of your pussy, making your legs weak. "ah..." he muttered as he slowly pulled it out, feeling the fabric encasing his own heat now tighten even more as it hurts.

you look down at it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look up at him, "better if it's the real thing, no?" you said with a dazed laugh as you wrap your legs around his waist. "is this permission?" he asks with eager eyes as he put the dildo aside and his hands slowly undid his pants. "mhm..." you hummed, and even though you just finished, you felt excited for the real thing.

he laughed quietly as he let his pants fall a bit, revealing his twitching dick. it was desperate for your gaping hole, the way it squeezed on the dildo made him all frustrated for some reason. he wanted to feel it for himself. "i'm sorry, dear, i can't wait." he apologizes before pushing himself slowly but firmly into you. he groans at the feeling, your walls tightened against him and sending his body into euphoria as he feels his control over his body slowly dissipate.

you let out a staggered breath, though the smile returns to your lips as you find it in you to make some teasing remarks. "feels good, doesn't it?" you whisper as your hand moves up to cradle his face. "yes..." he says huskily as he couldn't find the strength to move. "what's wrong? why can't you move?" you voiced rather condescendingly as you start to circle your hips against him.

he frowns as his body twitches at your motion, with his grip on your waist deepening. you feel his fingers dig into your soft skin, making you feel a bit confident of your skills. mortefi hisses through his teeth as he slowly started to move, his length leaving your insides empty for a few moments before burying himself back inside you.

a small cry escapes your lips as you feel his cock fill your empty hole, and your body reacts as if it was running on desire. you reach for his back, your arms travel down his waist, stopping just at the hill of his hips. you push him further into you as sounds of pleasure quickly filled the room, echoing through the empty walls. you're both so lucky that everybody's gone.

you claw at his clothes, feeling as if you were ripping the white fabric apart, you whine out his name as you feel that familiar feeling boil up within your body. and you were sure he could feel it too. "are you close?" you asked breathily as his pace started to speed up, rougher, and harder. "so... tight." he frowns as he ravishes in the pleasure, letting it devour him as he continues to ram himself into you.

"i'm so close-" he scowls, his other hand roaming the skin of your stomach as he takes in the view under him. your vision slowly fades to white as you feel your mind go blank, losing your control over your body as you feel that sensation shatter, sending shards of pleasure all across your body. your body uncontrollably trembles under his touch as he pulls out swiftly with a groan and pressing his dick against your cunt, grinding into his climax.

you feel a sticky, warm liquid spill across your stomach and the soft plush of your pussy.

okay it's all up to u now guys 🤑

you have reached the end of this post

→ HOME?

[theharrowing]

What, now?

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

☁ Jungkook x Female Reader ☁ word count: 13.6k ☁ friends to lovers, requited unrequited, pwp, fluff, explicit smut, nsfw, 18+ ☁ warnings: switch jungkook & switch reader, smoking weed, playful swatting and hitting (idk i'm an aries venus and i tend to playfully hit the people i love), tension and confessions, shot-gunning smoke, making out, light teasing and begging, anxiety, use of "baby" and "good girl/good boy", oral sex (f & m), fingering, a bit of squirting, dick piercingsssss, deepthroating, a hint of humiliation and cum play and spit, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, jungkook changes positions like he changes karaoke songs, booty eating and fingering, a bit of cockwarming, soft feelings. ☁ note: the time has come. i have written my first ever jungkook fic! i am very excited to be taking this important step, and i hope that you enjoy it. please blame/thank @jjkeverlast for putting this idea into my head and brainstorming with me! this contains literally the barest plot! ☁ beta read by @neoneunnajimin and @blog-name-idk 🥰 i love you both very much! ☁ posted march 2023 | read on ao3

"What, now?" Jeongguk asks, blinking heavily from staring at some fixed point on your comforter. 

Frustrated, you sigh out a puff of smoke and set the joint onto a clear glass ashtray on your bedside table. Then you grab a pillow, gripping tightly to its soft, floral covering, and you chuck it at him. 

"Oh, for the love of—" you complain as the pillow hits his shoulder, and he lets out a deep oof. "—you are impossible, Jeongguk!"

Jeongguk clutches his heart, feigning dramatically to be wounded, and leans back. Then, fear paints his face, and you realize he might actually be tipping over the edge of your bed as his arms flail out to the sides. 

With an exasperated huff, you get onto your knees and lean forward, grabbing one of his flailing arms and yanking him to safety. As Jeongguk slouches toward you, your balance slips, and you crash headfirst into his knee, then roll onto your back in defeat as a throbbing ache blooms in the center of your forehead. 

Jeongguk bends—brows knit with concern and wide, deep brown eyes accentuated by his browline glasses—staring straight into your soul. As he reaches to touch you, his dark brown curls fall forward, framing his beautiful face, causing you to panic-gasp and swat at his hand.

"Get away from me, you demon!"

"I'm sorry! Your bed is tall; I could have died!" he whines as you roll to safety by your headboard and scramble back into a seated position. You reach for the joint to take another deep inhale, letting the smoke settle before breathing it out, then you lean forward and hand it over. 

"You go so far away when you're high," you grumble as you sit back, snatching another pillow to hug close. 

"Sorry," Jeongguk mutters as he takes a slow, deep hit, hissing as he inhales and sighing on the exhale. "I get lost in my thoughts." 

With a scoff, you roll your eyes. 

"What were you thinking of, hmm?" 

Jeongguk flits his gaze to you, which appears a bit sad, stirring something inside your tummy. For as long as you have known Jeongguk, he has been lighthearted and relaxed, finding levity in any situation. But lately, when you hang out, there is a heaviness—a tension, almost. Something hangs in the air—something he always seems on the edge of voicing but never does. 

Jeongguk leans forward and hands you the joint, but rather than straightening out after you reach for it, he stays anchored on his palm, slouched in front of you. With a sigh, he cocks his head and says, "I don't know. What if I—" his eyes search around and past you, then return, "—what if you don't like what I've been thinking about?" 

Ridiculous. The only thing Jeongguk could ever do to upset you is move to a new city or find some other way to pull the two of you apart. As long as your best friend is in your orbit, nothing can hurt you. 

And, sure, the fact that you have a huge, overwhelming, insurmountable, absolutely dizzying fucking crush on him is frustrating—bordering infuriating, at times—but you suffer out of love. At least, that is what you tell yourself. You can yearn until the end of time as long as your best friend never leaves you. 

Jeongguk clears his throat and settles back on his knees. You could swear his gaze falls past your eyes—lower, to your mouth—but he seems once again lost in thought, making him hard to read. 

"I want to kiss you," he finally blurts out. 

You choke on air, inhaling too sharply and coughing, squeezing your pillow tight. Jeongguk's shoulders slump forward, and he hangs his head and shakes it, letting out a soft, somewhat humorless laugh as he sits back up and crosses his arms over his chest. 

"Forget it," he mutters. 

Absolutely not.

"Jeon Jeongguk," you wheeze, gripping the corner of the pillow and swatting him with it, hitting his knees. He glances at you with a sad, somewhat distant expression, and your head fucking spins as you try to make sense of this situation. 

"Is this just like...high talk?" you ask, suddenly feeling panicked that your very attractive best friend is talking about kissing you. "Like, I don't know, is the weed making you say silly shit?" 

A frown tugs on Jeongguk's pretty lips. 

"Silly shit? Wow, yeah, forget I said anything." 

"That's not—" you feel guilty, sighing, "—Jeongguk—" 

"No, no," he interrupts, waving a limp defeated hand. "Never mind." 

You remember the joint in your grasp and take a useless puff, having to grab for the baby blue lighter sitting beside the ashtray and flick your thumb over the wheel a few times until a flame greets you. Gently, you inhale as fire engulfs the tip, bringing it back to life, and then, with a lungful, you pass it to your best friend, who gives a sad half-smile and says, "Thanks." 

As you settle back against your headboard, clenching the lighter in your fist and hugging your pillow tight, your mind races. You struggle to grab onto any one thought long enough to really comprehend it; all you can seem to focus on is when? When could this feeling of his have started? 

Jeongguk chuckles, but it lacks any mirth. And then he mutters, "Here, I thought I was being super obvious," causing your mouth to drop open. 

"Okay, but...since when?" 

"I've had feelings for you since the day we met," Jeongguk states, looking into your eyes, causing your stomach to do a backflip. 

"Since wh—what? You what?" 

Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak, but you wave your hands in the air, lighter wedged under your pinky and ring finger, to cut him off. 

"No! Because, I have had feelings for you since the day we met! Which means—oh, god, what have we been doing?" 

"I was a dork when we first met," Jeongguk grumbles, though he seems to have lightened up, smiling through his words. 

Laughter quakes through you, and you nod your head cartoonishly, still absolutely dumbfounded by all of this. 

"You were! You were smart, and funny, and kind, and even when your nose was still too big for your face, you were still the cutest dork I knew!"

The Jeongguk you met all those years ago, when he was tiny and shy, was already the love of your life. And as you aged and he began to bulk up, covering himself in tattoos and piercings, it only made your heart ache all the more.

Jeongguk's gaze falls, and a shy smile creeps across his face. He plays with the little metal ring in his lip, passing his teeth gently over it, then he looks back up, making firm eye contact. 

With his voice dropping an octave lower, he asks, "You really have feelings for me?"

The shift in his tone and demeanor makes your heart pound, and you attempt to take a drag from the joint, realizing after two dazed inhales that it has gone out, once again. Sheepishly, you hold up the lighter and flick your thumb over the wheel once, then twice, watching as sparks fly and wondering if it is in any way symbolic or if that is the weed taking over your cloudy little brain and making you too hopeful for your own good. 

With a deep inhale, you reignite the joint—hoping you have done a better job than last time—then you hold in the smoke and hand it back, feeling yourself become antsy under Jeongguk's intense gaze. He brushes his fingers against your knuckles as he slowly takes the dwindling offering and pulls it to his mouth, and you barely part your lips to let the smoke leave your lungs, watch intently as he sucks in and then smiles, licking his lips before slowly exhaling. 

A chuckle breaks you from your trance, and you blink heavily while sitting up straight, gripping the life out of the pillow with your forearms. The weed, Jeongguk's confession, and his shift in mood all have you feeling lightheaded. You clear your throat and toss your lighter to the bedside table, which clatters on impact.

"Of course I do," you mutter, finally returning to the conversation that had hung as thick and heavy as the cloud of smoke between you. "Have you seen yourself, Jeongguk? Everybody has feelings for you."

Jeongguk smiles—still looks a bit shy, but with an air of confidence that makes your head spin. Although you know that there are no hallucinogenic properties to the weed you smoke—or, at least, very little—you struggle to grasp that this is reality. 

"I don't care what everybody feels," he utters softly, leaning forward with his palms on the bed, joint sticking straight up between two fingers. "Just you."

Jeongguk crawls—fucking crawls—toward you, and you feel your brain begin to short-circuit. The air in the room is thick and warm, and you swallow a large lump in your throat. But it is his chuckle that really does you in—soft and light, and a little too deep for comfort, causing your heart to pound loudly in your ears and heavily in your chest. 

"Tell me," Jeongguk utters, entering your personal space.

It takes you a few seconds to catch up to what he is saying; all you can focus on is his looming, beautiful presence. 

"What, now?"

Jeongguk's head falls forward, and he laughs—shoulders gently bouncing. He shakes his head and looks back up at you, and god, he is devastating with his hair grown out in waves and his glasses slid down his nose. Absolutely breathtaking. 

"Tell me how you feel," he urges softly, sitting up on his knees in front of you and lifting the joint to his lips. 

Your eyes once again follow every movement, and all you can mutter is, "I feel...very high."

Jeongguk laughs again, puffing smoke into your face and making you grimace—not that you mind entirely; your brain is already so hazy, thanks, in part, to him. What harm will a little smoke do?

"How you feel about me," he says, leaning in just a little too close. 

"Uh—I," you swallow, despite your throat feeling dreadfully dry. "I li—I like you. O-obviously." 

The last word is barely a whisper, and you could swear Jeongguk's eyes sparkle when you say it. Every fight or flight instinct blares at full volume as Jeongguk leans and presses his palm into the headboard just beside your head. Tan, tattooed skin fills your periphery, and you turn slightly to glance at his arm beside you before returning your focus to him.

"Come here," Jeongguk says, lifting what is left of the joint to his lips and sucking in, then holding in the smoke as he pulls it away. He raises his eyebrows and gently grabs your arm to tug you forward, and you lean just enough for him to take your invitation and close the gap, pressing your lips together. 

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to take a sharp inhale because, holy fuck, Jeongguk's mouth is against yours, and he feels so perfectly soft and inviting. Instead, you part your lips slowly, and as you do, Jeongguk exhales, passing the smoke from his mouth to yours in a dizzying exchange. You hold it in, then swallow it back, exhaling through your nose as Jeongguk smiles against you and begins to back up.

But you do not want Jeongguk to back up. You have felt his mouth on yours, and you need more than just a taste. Frantically, you reach up and grip onto his shirt, tugging him close.

With a soft, "Oing?" he falls forward, pliant.

Jeongguk smells musky and sweet, and you gently drag his lip between your teeth, tasting metal and smoke. With a sigh that sounds awfully close to a whimper, Jeongguk opens his mouth and drags his tongue over your lips and teeth, causing you to let out something between a moan and a sob, feeling Jeongguk smile as he deepens the kiss, willing your mouth further open. 

There is a sweetness to Jeongguk's tongue hidden beneath the stinky taste of weed, and you lick into his mouth, chasing hints of him, gasping as he lets out faint noises. Despite all of this being very real—every sense filled with Jeongguk—you struggle to accept that this is actually happening. Finally, after all this time. 

Jeongguk lifts his hand to touch you, grazing his fingertips over your cheek, and sending sparks through you. Then he pulls from the kiss, and swears under his breath, sighing with annoyance. You open your eyes to find him still cradling a dead joint between his fingers, which he drops onto the ashtray, only to begin wiping fallen ash off your comforter.

"Jeon," you grumble, despite hardly caring about the ash; you just like to give him a hard time.

"I'm sorry for my fault," Jeongguk mutters as he returns to your lips. 

Your hand still clenches onto his shirt, and you chuckle into his kiss, keeping your face turned only enough to slot your noses side by side, slowly licking and sucking and savoring one another. Gradually, your brain and heart stop operating in panic mode, and you begin to notice the arousal that swirls through you—hot and eager for more. 

To your dismay, Jeongguk breaks from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. 

"Is this alright?" he asks, and you open your eyes to find him appearing concerned. 

"I like it," you respond, fuzzy and warm. 

"You have no idea—well, actually you probably do have some idea how long I have wanted to do that."

You nod and hum, "Mmhmm."

"So..." Jeongguk trails off, playing with his lip ring between his teeth, sitting so close, everything appears blurred. "What, now?"

Your tummy does a backflip, and you cannot help but chuckle softly. What, now, indeed. 

With a hum, you mutter, "We could keep kissing."

"We could..." 

Jeongguk slots his lips against yours as he trails off, and you wonder if there is something more to his tone, so you hum—a question, or, perhaps, encouragement to continue. 

Rather than elaborate, Jeongguk sucks your bottom lip gently between his teeth. Your mouth falls open as you gasp, and he deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back while he cradles your cheek softly as you slide your hands to his neck, eager to keep him close. The back and forth of your tongues is an addicting dance, and you find yourself moaning and gasping a little louder, pulling him a little closer. 

Jeongguk makes soft, inviting sounds of his own, and you fight the urge to claw at his clothing and beg him for more. You are certain that he must want it too—that this kiss must be affecting him the way it affects you—but you are unsure how to initiate more; what if this really is all he wants?

With a deep, needy groan, Jeongguk pulls from the kiss, and he appears timid when he sits back enough to look you in the eyes. Taking in the sight of him this close, with his pretty, dark curls framing his face—this close that you can count each mole and scar that graces his skin—you feel warmth rise to your cheeks. Jeongguk seems to be searching for something to say, then he drops his gaze. 

"Hey," you mutter as you lean in and place a soft peck on the apple of his cheek. "Where did you go?"

Jeongguk softly laughs, tugging his lips into a smile. 

"I just...I can't believe this is finally happening...I'm finally kissing you."

A smile creeps over your lips. 

"Me too." 

Jeongguk backs away further, and you stick your bottom lip out to pout. You are in the midst of a solid high, with everything feeling simultaneously too light and too heavy, and you want to keep making out with your super hot best friend.

"My legs are falling asleep," he complains as he crawls beside you and rotates, sitting against the headboard.

Beside you, his hand rests palm facing up, and you place your hand into his, slotting your fingers together. Holding Jeongguk's hand is nothing new, but now it feels different—now there is an electric current that buzzes lively between your palms. 

"Way to ruin the vibe," you tease, giving him a gentle squeeze. "I was getting into it."

Jeongguk tugs on your hand, and you glance up, meeting his gaze. 

"Come here, then."

And perhaps you should hesitate before swinging your leg over your best friend's thighs to straddle his lap. Perhaps this—whatever the fuck this is—that is happening between you deserves a conversation before it moves too much further. But you do not want to dwell on anything for too long. All you want to do is sink into this moment until you are too far below the surface to breathe, succumbing to the chaos and letting it swallow you whole. 

You climb onto Jeongguk's lap, still holding onto his hand, and you settle down on his thighs, gently touching your fingertips to the underside of his chin and slotting his lips against yours. Jeongguk smiles and holds his mouth pliant for you to explore, then he wraps his arms around you, sliding one hand up to your neck as he deepens the kiss. 

Making out with Jeongguk is a dream you never want to wake from. His scent is soft and welcoming and smells like home—hints of fresh cologne on top of the natural sweet musk that you have come to identify as him. And his voice is low and grumbly, with a pitchy lilt whenever you nip at his lip, and it stirs something deep inside you to pull more of those pretty sounds from his throat. 

He feels incredible beneath you. Firm but soft, gentle but insistent in his touch—eager but not pushy or too rough. His lips are sweet, spit-slicked heaven, and the more you kiss and suck and nibble, the more enamored you become. 

Jeongguk groans and mutters, "You feel so good," and it sparks something in you to lean into him, chest flush against his. He holds you tighter, gently squeezing the back of your neck, then he breaks from your lips to kiss your chin and trail down to your throat. 

The new sensation sends arousal flooding through you, and you whimper as you somewhat mindlessly roll your hips. Jeongguk groans against your skin, his grip on you tightens, and if you are not mistaken, it feels like a tremble quakes through him. 

“Easy, tiger,” Jeongguk warns as his hand squeezes the back of your neck.

You let out a playful, "Hmm?" before rolling yourself against him once more, and Jeongguk gasps as he slides his hands down to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he returns his mouth to yours.

"You're entering dangerous territory by doing that," he grumbles against you.

You draw lazy shapes with your tongues between each sentence, swallowing one another's words whole. 

"Dangerous how?"

"You're grinding yourself against my dick," he whines through a helpless chuckle.

"I know."

You open your eyes to find his wide, and he grins, shaking his head in disbelief before his gaze darkens. 

"You know, huh?"

Another hum—a deep, enticing, "Mmhmm"—as you attempt to roll your hips again, finding yourself stuck hovering over his crotch instead. 

"Are you trying to get me hard?" he asks, tilting his head back so you can look at him fully. 

Jeongguk already appears somewhat wrecked. With a hint of dew on his forehead, rosy-flush on his cheeks, and hair a little disheveled, he is so fucking pretty. 

And maybe it is the weed talking—making you bold enough to say shit like this to your best friend in the whole entire world—but you ask, "And what if I am?" while holding brazen, unwavering eye contact.

Jeongguk stares at you for several quiet seconds with his pretty lips parted, eyes roving as if studying you. Then, in an eager motion, he whips his glasses off, tossing them to your bedside table in a clatter as he gently but firmly takes your face in both hands and kisses you like a man desperate to never breathe anything but the oxygen from your lungs.

You moan into Jeongguk's mouth and roll your hips, this time angling forward to graze denim against denim with purpose. Jeongguk whimpers into your mouth and slides one arm down, past your shoulder, to your hip, holding tight while he thrusts upward. You are unsure if you actually feel him—only really noticing rough fabric scrape over rough fabric—but the intensity of his kiss and eagerness of his hips have arousal coursing through you, steadily building. 

"Are you sure?" Jeongguk groans into your lips, and you nod.

"I've wanted you for at least a million years; of course I am sure."

A soft chuckle flits from his mouth to yours. 

"A million years? How many lives is that?"

Impatience courses through you—why is he so determined to be chatty now, of all times? 

You grumble, "I don't know, Jeon, twelve or thirteen thousand, give or take?" and Jeongguk smiles against you. 

“I guess I should hurry up and fuck you then, since you’ve waited so many lifetimes for it.”

The nonchalance of his statement sends a chill up your back. He must feel it, because he giggles and continues to suck and nip at your neck, pushing you to the brink of complete mental collapse.

"What is your problem?" you whine, lolling your head to the side to give him more access to you. "How can you just say that?"

"Do you not want me to fuck you?" Jeongguk asks between nips at your skin. 

You shove at his chest, feeling petulant, grumbling, "I am going to fucking kill you."

With a chuckle, Jeongguk wraps his arms around your back, lifts you, and then lies you down against the mattress. It happens so fast, you gasp and throw your arms over your head as you fall gently against the soft comforter, and Jeongguk grins as he leans forward, hovering over you.

"Tell me what you want," he says with wide eyes—blown out and bloodshot. 

"I w—I want you," you stammer, suddenly too shy to voice what has been on your mind for so many years. 

Jeongguk leans close—so close his crotch grazes yours, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his thighs to keep him in place. 

"Want me how?" he asks with a devilish grin. 

"Fuck—" you mutter quietly before swallowing your nervousness, wrapping your arms around his neck, and saying, "Fuck me, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk's smile widens, and you could swear his eyes shimmer as he gazes down at you. He almost seems taken aback—unable to process that this is his reality. Not that you can blame him; you feel equally stunned. 

"You sure?" he asks, gazing becoming so soft, affection blooms behind your ribs. 

Feeling impatient, you smack Jeongguk softly on the shoulder with your fingertips. You are way too high to be repeating yourself, although you do appreciate his insistence on making sure you are comfortable. 

But the pace at which he is dragging everything out has you practically begging, "Yes, god, please, Jeongguk."

The benefit of initiating a sexual encounter with your best friend in the entire world is that you are both aware of one another's health checks and sexual histories. You have bragged and complained to one another about every single sexual encounter over the years, and have sent selfies from every doctor's office visit. 

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk, so, of course, he asks, "Still on the pill?" and he does not question it when you nod in response. 

Jeongguk reaches for the back of his shirt and swiftly pulls it over his head. As he tosses it to the side, you feel your breath get caught in your throat. You have seen Jeongguk shirtless before—have swam with him countless times, and have gone along to all of his tattoo appointments. But watching him undress with the intent of being intimate with you feels different. Having front-row access to gawk openly at his beautifully sculpted muscles is new.

Gently, Jeongguk grabs at the hem of your shirt and tugs, and you comply, pulling it over your head with a weak lift of your torso before crashing back onto the comforter once it is off. You lay in a sheer, mesh black bra, and when you begin to anchor yourself onto your elbows to unclip the back, Jeongguk shakes his head, leaning forward as he mutters, "I like it. Keep it on."

Another benefit to initiating a sexual encounter with your best friend in the entire world is that you have shared some details about what you are into with one another, over the years. Nothing too graphic because you would always shy away from serious sexual conversation, worrying about becoming too obviously flustered by him. But you know that Jeongguk tends to like things to have a bit of a power-play dynamic. He has, on several occasions, bragged openly about his sexual prowess to male mutual friends while in your presence, discussing past partners in terms of submissiveness.

So, for that reason, you stretch your hands up, over your head. Nothing too wild, but a clear sign of surrender. Jeongguk follows the movement with his eyes, then slides down your body, hovering his lips over one of your clothed breasts. 

"Keep your hands above your head," he sighs in command, ghosting warmth over your skin and giving you goosebumps. 

You let out a shaky exhale in response and nod, placing one of your hands into the other and slightly gripping, determined to be good for him. Jeongguk nudges the tip of his nose against a nipple, causing you to gasp as the touch—faint as it is—sends a spark of arousal through you.

"I always knew your tits would be amazing," Jeongguk grumbles, dragging his lips over your sensitive bud.

If you were not trying to keep your hands firmly in place, you would have delivered another smack to his shoulder for being so unserious. You even gasp and begin to complain about Jeongguk's choice of words, but he flicks his tongue against your clothed nipple, and you sigh into the feeling, already distracted.

Jeongguk chuckles and mutters, "I'm surprised you didn't try to hit me," with his lips grazing the mesh over your skin, because of course he knows you too well.

You let out a soft laugh of your own. 

"I wanted to, but you told me to keep my hands above my head."

"So good for me," Jeongguk responds deeply, sending a shiver through you. "I'm a little surprised."

"Hmm?" you ask, watching as Jeongguk glances up, making eye contact.

He smiles wide and shrugs, saying, "I expected you to be more of a brat."

The urge to smack strengthens, but you do your best to keep your hands firmly in place. Jeongguk is definitely not incorrect that you tend to be more of a brat in bed, but you were hoping to behave at least a little since this is something you have wanted for so long. 

"Keep talking shit and I'll show you a brat," you respond as you watch Jeongguk gaze up once more with a dark, pointed stare.

"Is that so?" he asks as he crawls up your body, caging your head between his hands. 

You tilt your chin upward and nod, giving him a cheeky grin. 

"It is."

Jeongguk reaches down with one hand between your legs, which you let fall open the moment his knuckles brush against your thigh. With his fingertips, he grazes over the denim crotch of your pants, following the seam up to your zipper. It is so light you can barely feel it as he passes over your heat, but it is enough to make you whimper and plead with your eyes for more. 

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you?" Jeongguk asks playfully as his head cocks to the side and pretty, dark waves fall past his face.

"I do."

"Hmm, but you're already misbehaving. So maybe I should just tease you a little and leave."

For a split second, you lift your hands from the bed with the intent of wrapping your arms around his neck, earning a raise of Jeongguk's eyebrows. Then you drop them back onto the comforter and squeeze your hands closed. 

"Please, Jeongguk," you attempt, batting your eyelashes and smiling oh, so sweetly.

Jeongguk studies you, letting his wide eyes fall to your lips and back up, then he says, "I guess I could make you beg for it."

"You are so evil," you whine, voice breathy as Jeongguk leans down and nips at your chin, down your neck. "Please don't make me beg."

"Hmm, but you already are," Jeongguk teases as his lips, teeth, and tongue travel lower. 

God, Jeongguk is as insufferable as he is irresistible, and you allow your eyes to flutter closed as his lips curve toward your breast, pinching and tugging at fabric, touching you so softly, you want to burst. His warm, moist breath fans over your skin, causing you to open your eyes, and you sigh heavily, watching as your chest rises and falls beneath his teasing. 

You have fantasized about this moment many times before, imagining the heated way in which Jeongguk might take you—a little forcefully maybe, or even a bit clumsy—desperate, and eager in his movements. You have even allowed yourself to imagine overtaking him—holding him down until he is pliant and whimpering while you tease, grazing your fingertips against his prostate until he screams, using your toys while you ride him. 

But this—slow and measured, light in touch and heavy in implication—never in a million years had anything quite like this crossed your mind. 

Jeongguk flicks his tongue against your nipple, grazing the semi-rough mesh across the sensitive skin. A gasp puffs between your lips, then you let out a soft, enticing whimper, hoping for the sound to encourage him to do more than taunt you.

"Fuck, you sound so good," Jeongguk groans, lapping his tongue over you, wetting the material. 

Satisfied with your successful encouragement, you let out a louder sound, trembling under his firm touch. Fighting the urge to reach for his hair and give it a light tug, or bunch it behind his head so you can better see his face, has you opening and clenching your fists uselessly above your head. 

Jeongguk moves lower, nipping at the underside of your breast and making you whine. The pinching feeling of soft skin between blunt teeth barely hurts at all—hardly feels like much of anything—but it takes you by surprise, and you are jumpy enough for every little sensation to be just a bit too much.

As he settles between your legs, Jeongguk's butt hits the headboard of your bed with a thunk, causing him to laugh, which, in turn, makes you laugh. 

"Scoot up," Jeongguk complains, and you begin to wiggle yourself toward the end of the bed, careful to keep your hands in place, over your head, committing fully to the good girl bit.

At the foot of your bed is a bench that sits several inches lower than the mattress, and you continue to scoot until your hands slide over the edge and rest on its cushioned top. You straighten out your legs, and Jeongguk settles onto his knees between them, then reaches to undo your jeans.

The realization hits you once more, and quite suddenly, that this is really happening. Your best friend—Jeon Jeongguk, babe extraordinaire and light of your absolute fucking life—is undressing you in broad daylight with the intent to see and to feel you.

A small wave of anxiety washes over you, and you close your eyes as he begins to wiggle your pants past your hips and yank them lower. The underwear you have on beneath is not terribly exciting—plain black, soft material, nothing too fancy. But they are cute, and you bite your lip as you smile, hoping he finds them cute, too.

A chuckle pulls you from your thoughts, and you crack open your eyes to find Jeongguk frozen with your jeans tugged half way past your thighs, while he is staring at your face. 

"Why do you look so worried?"

With a sigh, you groan, "Stop always being so intuitive."

Jeongguk's smile drops, and he lets go of your pants. 

"Is something wrong?"

He is too kind for his own good. Because, of course, he is; you are not head over heels for him without good reason. 

"No," you insist, shaking your head. Above your head, you fiddle with some unknown, thin material between your fingers. "I'm just, you know...it's a lot, letting your best friend see you naked. I definitely want you to! But it still makes me nervous."

"Oh," Jeongguk says, sitting up on his knees while he begins to unbuckle his belt and yank it from its loops. "I don't think it's a lot."

"Well, of course you don't," you respond through a bit of a nervous grin as Jeongguk sets his black leather belt aside and undoes his pants. You mutter a little more softly, "You're fucking hot."

Jeongguk shrugs and pushes his jeans down past his thighs, then sits back on his butt and begins to wiggle out of them with his legs angled to the side, past your body. 

"You are also fucking hot," he responds matter-of-factly.

You scoff. 

"Yeah, but, compared to you—" 

Before you can finish your sentence, you feel ridiculous for even beginning it, and you bite your tongue. With the way Jeongguk frowns at you as he tosses his pants aside, the point is driven home. 

"Don't—" he begins, and you nod. 

"I know."

"Then why—"

You feel impatient to continue what had been previously started, but you cannot deny Jeongguk's softness is very touching. You extend your right leg out, feeling the denim awkwardly stretch around your thighs where Jeongguk left it, and use your foot to attempt to pull him close. 

"I get self-conscious," you admit, smiling as Jeongguk gets back on his knees and crawls between your legs. "I can be a hot bitch and feel shy, okay? I contain multitudes. Now keep undressing me."

The familiar playful, shit-eating grin that tugs at Jeongguk's lips makes your heart pound, and he leans forward, continuing his task of tugging off your pants. You twist and squeeze bits of fabric between your fingers while he leans back against the headboard and lifts your legs straight into the air, and once the denim is pulled free from around your ankles, you let your legs settle with a nice, deep, fortifying breath.

Jeongguk stops your right leg from lowering and rests your ankle on his shoulder. He kisses and nips at the skin, tickling and taunting, with his eyes on you. 

"Still nervous?" he asks. 

And although your heart beats wildly behind your ribcage, you let out a shaky breath and mutter, "Only a little."

Jeongguk leans forward more, giving your leg a nice little stretch as it presses toward your body. His lips and teeth trail along the side of your knee, sending sparks shooting through you as he nibbles at the sensitive skin and inches closer.

You have hardly had a chance to comprehend the fact that Jeongguk is practically naked, sitting only in his tight, small briefs, and you let your gaze drink in everything before you. His body is muscular, with cute rolls of skin bunched as he slouches forward, slowly working his way to settle between your legs, and you cannot take your eyes off him. 

And you wonder if perhaps he was so eager to get undressed when you said it made you nervous to be getting naked in front of your best friend as a way to ease your mind. Because that is the thing about Jeongguk, he is always looking for little ways to make you feel comfortable.

"Where did you go?" Jeongguk asks.

You blink and realize you have been staring at the top of his curly mop of hair while his mouth comes dangerously close to your pussy, and suddenly, you feel an overwhelming surge of arousal and anticipation on top of still being pretty fucking high.

"S-sorry," you mutter. "Drifted off thinking about you."

"But I'm right here," he pouts, giving you big, pretty doe eyes.

"You are," you respond through a heavy breath, acutely aware of the fact that he is right here, hovering between your thighs. 

"Keep your eyes on me," Jeongguk commands softly. "Don't space out."

A hint of a chuckle rocks through you, though it is more of a nervous laugh than a humorous one. Despite hardly doing anything, he has you so worked up, and the fact that the high is causing the arousal to ebb and flow, dulling and becoming intense, has you feeling quite flustered. 

Jeongguk lets out a deep, slow breath, wafting warmth between your legs. A small shiver works through you from the knowledge that he is so close; the number of years you have wanted him just like this are many, and the affection you feel for him is insurmountable. You hold eye contact as best as you can while Jeongguk sucks hard against your thigh, and the spark of ticklish pleasure-pain forces a huff of a small whimper to fall from your mouth while you do your best not to jerk your leg too much. 

"Such a tease," you complain.

"You know what I want you to do, baby," Jeongguk responds, bringing the world to a screeching halt. 

Baby. Oh, that definitely has a bigger effect on you than it should. This is bad for you.

"Please," you whine, because you do know what he wants you to do. He wants you to beg. "Please, Jeongguk."

"Please, what, baby?"

Your exhale is shattered around the edges, bursting heavily from your lungs. 

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you."

"Jeongguk," you whimper in a last-ditch effort. Is he really going to make you say it?

Jeongguk simply raises his eyebrows. Of course he is going to make you say it. He is absolutely reveling in this moment—with sharp, intent eyes and his lips slightly parted, it is written all over his face.

Fuck it; you can do this. You can tell the person you love more than anything in the world precisely what you want. You will not die of embarrassment. 

"Please touch my pussy, Jeongguk."

And god, it is so worth it to say those words when the result is Jeongguk's gaze simultaneously darkening and melting. He is holding it together rather well, but there are cracks in his foundation; you can tell that he wants to absolutely destroy you. 

"That's my good girl," Jeongguk groans as he leans forward and nudges the tip of his nose over your clothed clit. 

The pressure against you, mixed with his enticing words, playful voice, and all of the heavy, aching feelings you have—everything culminates and sends a wave of pleasure through you, melting you into the bed like hot wax. You squeeze your hands tightly, letting out a shattered whimper and angling your pelvis upward for more friction. 

Jeongguk drags the tip of his nose and his lips over you, teasing your labia and clit through soft cotton. The movements are so faint and so agonizingly slow, and you fight the urge to be a brat and demand more. You also try your best not to beg. Yes, Jeongguk wants you to, but why should he get the satisfaction of knowing just how affected you are, so soon? Someone as competitive and confident as Jeongguk would only use it against you if you became a mess this easily.

But you are a mess. Jeongguk settles between your legs and blows warm air across your clothed cunt, and you sink further into bliss, letting out more sounds of approval and frustration. With a sigh, you cave in—you never truly had a passing chance at holding any sort of resolve.

"Please."

Jeongguk uses his nose to tease once more.

"Hmm?" 

"Jeongguk," you groan.

"You smell nice," he mutters, wafting more warm air over you with a soft graze of his lips. "I bet you taste really sweet."

"Find out," you whine. 

Jeongguk sits up, grabs your panties in both hands, and cocks an eyebrow with a devious smile as he has the audacity to ask, "Can I rip these?"

"Wh—no! These are my coziest pair!"

Sure, you could buy a whole pack of them at a bargain price, but this particular pair is the best of the best. Jeongguk must have lost his mind.

"But it would be fun," he whines, making you roll your eyes.

"Pull them over my hips like a civilized man."

Jeongguk grumbles, "No fun," and begins to tug the material over your hips. You lift and bend your legs, and he sits back, bumping into the headboard once more to give you room. Then he flings the garment off to the side and leans forward. 

The look in Jeongguk's eye as your legs slowly drop and spread for him has warmth covering your chest, sneaking up your neck and cheeks. He looks intent and hungry, and he licks his lips. 

"Look at you," he says, staring directly at your cunt as he settles on his elbows and gently uses his fingertips to spread your lips, making you squirm.

"You're so weird," you complain, antsy under his gaze.

Jeongguk ignores your groans and leans close, dragging his lips over your spread folds. With a soft flick of the tongue, he tastes you—sending a wave of pleasure coursing to your fingers and toes—then he closes his eyes and groans. 

"Shit, you are sweet." 

You wish more than anything that Jeongguk would stop talking. One more word of praise from his mouth, and you might actually go supernova and take the entire solar system with you. Luckily, Jeongguk seems eager to use his tongue for better tasks as he dives in for more, swirling and sucking over your clit in a pattern that makes you grip onto the edge of the mattress and let out a deep, pleased moan. 

"Feels good," you whimper as arousal builds at a nearly embarrassing pace.

Everything about this situation is too much, and you let a shudder rock through you as your legs relax, spread further while your heels slide and dig across the blanket. Jeongguk also drops further and wraps his arms under your thighs, gripping your hips tightly. 

Being held in place and devoured by Jeongguk feels too good to be true, and you tilt your head up to have a look at the mess of wavy dark brown hair between your thighs. Jeongguk groans as he licks and sucks, with brows knit ever so slightly, the way he does when he is savoring his food. The mere thought of Jeongguk savoring you sends you hurtling to new heights of bliss, and you squeeze your hands closed, gripping tightly to your wrist while the other hand holds onto the soft comforter. 

Jeongguk glances up, meeting your eyes as he slowly licks a firm, slow stripe across your clit, causing your head to fall back into the bed with a moan that borders pornographic. You might be mortified by the sounds—by how quickly and easily Jeongguk has you unraveling for him—but the feeling is too good not to respond loudly in praise.

You climb close to orgasm—but not quite close enough. Your high still holds you in its clutches, and despite everything feeling intense and incredible, it is also a bit dull and hazed over.

"Ggukie," you whimper, smiling as Jeongguk growls in response. "Finger me, please."

One of Jeongguk's hands slides away from your hip, and you take in a deep, eager inhale. His fingertip teases your entrance, and when you glance between your legs, you find him slowly spinning his tongue over your sensitive bud while watching you with a smile.

"This what you want, baby?" Jeongguk asks as he presses forward, sliding his finger easily into your slick warmth.

"Fuck," you gasp. 

It is what you want, albeit not yet quite enough. Still, the way he crooks his finger upward and drags it across your sweet spot has you clawing at the blanket beneath you—has your back arching slightly off the mattress.

Jeongguk pumps his finger in and out fast enough to have your hips trembling, and when he adds another, stretching you just enough to cause a hint of pain, your mouth falls open into a desperate moan. This is what you need.

"Yes," you whimper as Jeongguk's lips and tongue return to their eager ministrations and his fingers set a dizzying pace. "That's it, Ggukie; don't stop!"

With pleased groans, Jeongguk pulls you to the edge of mental collapse, and it takes absolutely no time at all to plummet into bliss. As you cum, your entire body quakes, and you attempt to keep your thighs from clamping shut, pushing your head into the mattress as your back lifts and your heels drag. 

Jeongguk does not slow. The sensation borders overwhelming and too much, but you do your best to hold on and ride out this new type of high. At this pace, with the focused, steady rhythm of licking and sucking on your clit, you know that it will take no time at all to cum again, and you want it so badly. 

Luckily, Jeongguk is on the same page. 

"Once more, baby," he groans against you, and you squeeze your eyes closed as the high builds at breakneck speeds, never fully coming down from your first orgasm.

Rather than pressing in and out, Jeongguk changes his motion and thrusts his fingertips up into your erogenous zone. The sensation is engulfing—threatening to eat you alive—and you practically scream as the pressure sends you shooting into a new dimension of bliss. 

"Fuck," you sob between moans, feeling as if you might absolutely burst. "Fuck, fuck, oh god."

This time, as you cum, you can hear Jeongguk's fingers squelch—loud and wet—punctuating each upward thrust as you sob and tremble against the bed. 

"That's it, baby, coat my fingers," Jeongguk praises, leaving featherlight kisses against your clit and labia as he continues to finger you.

"What the fuck," you pant, feeling dizzy and overstimulated. Your body is covered in a sheen of sweat and goosebumps, cold yet burning hot, and you struggle to reconcile all the myriad feelings. 

"Didn't know you could do that?" Jeongguk asks, still fingering you to oblivion as his lips, teeth, and tongue move to your inner thigh—tickling and making you squirm.

"Do what?"

"You soaked me. Can't you feel it? It was like...a baby squirt."

"A baby squirt?" you pant in disbelief. 

Jeongguk takes a firm bite into your thigh, making you nearly kick him in the ribs, then he chuckles as his lips return to hover over your pussy. 

"What's the matter, baby squirt?"

Petulance rises—nearly overtakes the steady flood of pleasure—and you open your mouth to warn Jeongguk to never call you that again, but all you can manage to say is, "Don't you fucking da—ahhhh—" as his tongue laps over you as hungrily as before. 

You have no idea where one high ends and the next begins, and you fight the urge to grab him by the hair and pull him away, feeling so completely swallowed whole by overstimulation that you nearly scream. How the fuck is he capable of making you feel this way, this easily?

"It's too much," you whimper, heaving each breath from your lungs as you tremble from head to toe. 

"You sure you can't cum once more for me?" Jeongguk whines, gazing at you with wide, pretty eyes. 

You want to say yes—want to give him absolutely anything in this world that he may wish for—but you are far too sensitive, and you bite your bottom lip as you sheepishly shake your head no. 

"Awe, does baby squirt need a break?"

Despite being too fucked out to fight with your best friend who just made you cum at least twice—though you are unsure what you were experiencing toward the end—you sit up and land an open-palmed smack across his chest. Jeongguk grabs you by the wrist and yanks, falling back against your headboard with a wide, satisfied smile and sparkling eyes, and you allow yourself to be pulled onto your knees before toppling forward against his warm body, straddling his thighs.

"Don't call me that," you pout, feeling your own release drip from you, proving the nickname to be truer than you would like to admit. 

"It's fucking hot that I can make you so wet," Jeongguk groans as his hands find your jaw and gently pull you into a kiss. 

Is this what the two of you are, now? Best friends who kiss? Unabashedly and without preamble or explanation? You love being able to nibble on his bottom lip and fondle his metal jewelry between your teeth, pulling out all the sweet little sounds that you never imagined would come from him. Never like this. 

"It felt good," you groan when Jeongguk's lips move to your jaw and neck. "It felt really fucking good."

"Yeah?" Jeongguk responds, sucking his lips against your neck until you attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.

Jeongguk pulls you close and kisses lower, to your shoulder. This time, when he latches on, finding a far less sensitive spot, you allow it. 

"Yeah," you respond as your eyes lose focus on the brown wood of the headboard. "Fuck, I knew you'd be good, but that was..."

Your words die in your throat as Jeongguk's hands grab you by the ass and pull you onto his lap. Beneath you, a very firm erection sits nestled between your thighs, and you roll your hips downward to tease. Despite the way Jeongguk made you feel with his mouth and fingers, you are far from satiated. The moment you get your bearings, you need more. 

The whimper Jeongguk lets out makes you groan, and you take him by the face and pull him into a deep, needy kiss, detecting your own heady release on his tongue. Jeongguk relaxes, loosening his grip and holding his mouth agape for you to taste as you please. 

"I need to fuck you," he whines against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Is that so?" you respond before sucking his lip between your teeth, tasting a hint of metal.

"Been wanting you for so fucking long. You have no idea."

You smile as you say, "I'm the one who waited thousands of lifetimes, remember?"

Jeongguk squeezes your ass with both hands while rutting his hips up enough to tempt you with his erection. 

"Lay back down," he groans, and you shake your head, reveling in how quickly his pretty lips tug into a frown. 

"Not so fast," you purr as you begin to slide back, out of Jeongguk's eager grasp, leaving wet, lazy kisses on his jaw, neck, and clavicle. "It's my turn to taste you."

Jeongguk's hands fall to his sides, and as you begin to wedge your knees between his, he spreads his legs, giving you space to settle. Your lips skim over his nipple, pulling sweet gasps and sighs from his mouth, and the lower you kiss, past his abdomen, to one of his hips, his breath comes out in harsh gusts. 

Just knowing that you affect him like this makes you all the more eager to completely unravel him, and you waste no more time, slipping your fingertips beneath the waistband of his briefs while fanning warm breath over his clothed cock. You tug the material gently down and drag your lips over him, teasing him just a little as he had teased you before. And when your lips touch something small and hard, you freeze and lift your head.

"Jeongguk..." you begin, surveying his bulge, which has many small, hard, circular bulges along its length. "...what is this?"

"I never told you about those?" Jeongguk asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

In all your years of friendship, you were positive that Jeongguk—your Jeon Jeongguk—has never kept anything from you. And yet, here you are, staring straight at a very big secret. When the fuck did your best friend get his dick pierced?

"N-no," you stammer as you pull the band of Jeongguk's briefs down, exposing quite the surprise, indeed. 

Not only does Jeongguk have an impressive cock—long and thick with precum beading at its pretty, reddened-brown tip—but you gently pull back his foreskin to reveal a row of four barbells along his shaft, as evidenced by the eight little metal balls that hold them in place.

"Wh—when did you—"

"Surprised?"

A scoff rocks through your chest, and you look up at your best friend. The bewilderment must be evident, and he chuckles as he gently rubs his knuckles over your cheek.

"Felt like a weird thing to tell you when I did it," he confesses with a soft smile.

You feel affronted, and your mouth falls open. 

"Why?"

Jeongguk shrugs. 

"I was dating someone at the time, so bringing up my dick felt...weird. Especially since I got these because you..."

As Jeongguk trails off, his cheeks flush, and you watch as his life flashes before his eyes. 

"Because what? I what?" you ask, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks, certain that you know where this is going.

You are into this sort of thing. Jeongguk had to listen to you drunkenly rant far too many times about the ex who did you wrong but had a dick piercing that was hard to part ways with. The thought of Jeongguk taking that information and getting his own piercings...and multiple, at that...that does things to you. 

"Jeon Jeongguk," you groan with a smile, focusing your attention back to his very hard, pierced cock, which rests neglected and leaking against his tummy. "You are full of surprises."

Before Jeongguk can respond, you lean in close and lick a firm path from the band of his briefs, along his shaft, teasing the jewelry with your tongue before lapping at the precum that has spilled over onto his tip. Jeongguk lets out the softest, neediest moan, causing you to involuntarily clench every muscle between your legs. 

"Damn, Ggukie, you sound so pretty," you praise before sucking the head of his cock between your lips, feeling the muscles of his thighs tense beneath you. 

Just a taste of his salty release on your tongue spurs you to take him as far into your mouth as you can, and you lay your tongue flat, snaking it side to side when you finally settle with his tip buried close to your throat, nearly cutting off your oxygen. Jeongguk moans and trembles as you drag your tongue over velvety skin and metal. Absolute perfection. 

You waste no time and set a steady pace, sucking your cheeks in once he is deep in your mouth, and swirling your tongue along his shaft as you pull out. Jeongguk moans incoherently, letting consonants and vowels fall at random as he grips gently to the side of your head, clearly doing his best not to rut his hips too hard or touch you too firmly. 

And perhaps now, with your best friend's cock between your lips, is a strange time to think about how fun it is to learn this side of Jeongguk and wonder just what the dynamics between you two could be—what whatever this fuck this is could blossom into. But the idea that the two of you have crossed this line, and that he is so good at making you cum, has affection bursting and blooming behind your ribs, and arousal pooling deep in your guts. You are also still pretty fucking high, which is no wonder that your mind keeps wandering. 

Realization hits—your gag reflex is dulled when you smoke—and you open your mouth just a little bit wider and take Jeongguk's thick, pierced length a little bit deeper. This time, Jeongguk's grip ends up tugging some of your hair, which only spurs you to keep his cock firmly in your throat, pressed deep until you have no choice but to come up for air. 

"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, "baby this is—"

Needing to breathe, you concede to lifting your head, holding your tongue out flat as thick strings of drool connect your lips to his tip. 

"Huh?" you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes, watching as the last remaining thread of Jeongguk's sanity slips away.

"Can I fuck your mouth?" he asks, kiss-swollen lips agape and eyes eager-wide. 

"Sure," you reply with a shrug as if it is nothing, holding your mouth open as Jeongguk settles high onto his knees and positions himself. "Just don't hold my head too tight...in case I need to breathe."

Frantically, Jeongguk nods as he slides his hand to the back of your head, pulling you close. "Of course, yeah," he mutters, already adorably fucked out and blushing before he has had a chance to cum. 

You rest your palms flat on the bed, back arched and breasts spilling from the small mesh bralette as one strap slides past your shoulder. Jeongguk places a hand under your chin and cups your cheek with the other—almost comically gentle considering he plans to fuck your mouth.

With your tongue hung flat and wide, pooling drool at the tip, you stare up through your eyelashes. Jeongguk has a look on his face that screams affection—warm and wanting. Desire drips from your pores as saliva dribbles to your chin, and when Jeongguk lifts his thick, heavy cock to set gently on your tongue, your fingertips dig into the comforter beside your knees. 

"You look amazing," Jeongguk groans as he slowly thrusts forward, pressing in, in, in, dragging metal over your tongue. His jaw trembles as the tip slides into your throat, and you swallow around him, pleased with the lack of gag reflex, if only for the sweet satisfaction of watching him crumble above you. "Shit, baby, you look so fucking good."

Jeongguk holds himself in place and stares down at you with a reverence that makes warmth flood to your cheeks. He pulls back slowly, groaning as his eyes intently watch the movement, then thrusts forward a little harder, gasping as his cock tickles the soft skin in the back of your throat, and whimpering when you swallow around him. 

"Tap me or something if you need me to stop," he mutters, already sounding completely lost. 

You attempt to nod and flutter your eyelashes, which are already beginning to bead with tiny tears. Jeongguk curses under his breath, pulls out, then thrusts back in. His piercings are surprisingly pleasant as they slide—big enough to be noticeable but not enough to snag, though you keep your bottom teeth guarded, just in case. 

The hold on your face and chin become firmer but never rough, and Jeongguk works up to a steady pace, always pushing just far enough to pull lewd sounds from your throat—coating himself in thick saliva—but never so far that it causes discomfort. 

Watching Jeongguk's abs flex and bead with sweat as he ruts and swears and gasps causes arousal to pool between your legs and flood your system. You want him to pin you down and fuck this delicious, pierced cock into your cunt until you are cross-eyed and speaking in tongues.

Thankfully, his composure already seems to be crumbling. The grips of his fingertips are alternating too firm and slipping away, and his hips are losing their rhythm. To help him along, you attempt to tighten your throat, and you moan with each thrust, sending your praises vibrating over him. 

Jeongguk's head lolls back and to the side, then he fixes you with a desperate stare. Panting and sweating, with reddened cheeks and a crazed look in his eyes, he gives a frantic, affirming nod and groans, "So fucking close, baby. Can I cum in your mouth?" 

You attempt to nod and mutter something that somewhat resembles, "Uh-huh," and Jeongguk's lips break into a pretty smile as he tightens his hold on you and ruts his hips forward a little harder. 

"Fuck," Jeongguk moans, dropping his head back. His voice sounds like heaven, and you moan in response, eager to hear more.

Although his movements are too rushed, too out of rhythm, and even slightly too rough, you hold your mouth open and stare up, attempting to let oxygen through your nose while your fingertips dig into the comforter.

Jeongguk moans as his length twitches and pulsates in your mouth, whimpering your name like a prayer and pulling out just enough to cover your tongue in his release and lend you some airflow. And for the first time, you nearly gag. The first spurt of the viscous fluid hits the back of your throat and trickles thickly down, and you fight the urge to cough, doing your best to swallow around it. When he finally pulls out and sits back, you breathe in through your nose but hold your tongue flat to show him the mess he has made, all for you. 

"Fuck, you are perfect," Jeongguk groans while placing two fingers against your cum-covered tongue.

Jeongguk gazing at you as if you are a treasure to behold with tear-streaked cheeks and a drool-covered chin, juxtaposed with his fingers playing with the mess on your tongue, sends a flurry of emotions through you. And despite how soft he is with you, this entire scene feels somewhat humiliating. The grin breaking on Jeongguk's face suggests that he knows what you may be thinking, confirmed by him pulling your jaw open just a little wider and spitting into your mouth.

A gasp works its way through your chest, and you stare at your best friend with wide eyes. He has the temerity to chuckle. 

"Swallow my load like a good girl," he coos sweetly as he removes his fingers from your mouth and sucks them between his own lips. 

This entire scenario is so debauched it makes you feel dizzy, and you close your mouth and swallow the mess on your tongue, feeling trapped somewhat in slow-motion. 

As your high begins to dissipate enough to lift what fog had been draped heavily over your mind, you feel a new sense of eagerness take its place. The attitude of, I need to have him in any way I can is slowly melting into something akin to, I need to make him a whimpering mess of a man. 

"Sit back," you command, getting high on your knees and reaching to gently shove Jeongguk toward the headboard. 

He chuckles and fumbles onto his butt, then slowly inches back until he has nowhere left to go. You crawl forward, straddling his legs with your hands and knees, one breast hanging from the mesh bra, then settle onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and slotting fingers into his pretty, wavy hair.

"I'm not hard yet, baby," Jeongguk whines, as if you couldn't tell.

With a devious smile, you lift your hips until his soft cock is situated just below your pussy, and you slowly rub yourself over his pierced length. 

"I know," you groan, nipping at his bottom lip. "I'll make you hard."

Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, then pulls you close—splayed hands gripping at your back, desperate, as if you might disappear. 

"I got you, Ggukie," you mutter against his lips, warm breath hitting your smile in a soft sigh, "I'm right here." 

Kissing Jeongguk with remnants of his and your cum on your tongues feels like savoring the aftermath of a hurricane. And with storm clouds looming overhead, threatening to flood you completely, you can only accept your fate and gladly welcome what is to come; the two of you are far from finished with one another.

Slowly, Jeongguk becomes erect beneath you, and you make your soft, gentle movements a bit more measured and forceful. Jeongguk whimpers into your mouth, tangles his tongue against yours much more eagerly than before, and you swallow each little sound whole, licking and sucking against his tongue and lips until he is dropping his head back, out of breath. 

"I can't wait to fuck you," Jeongguk groans as you trail your lips to his neck and suck faint, dark marks into his skin. 

"Not until I get to fuck you first," you respond—a promise and a threat. 

Jeongguk groans as he asks, "Oh, yeah?" and you chuckle as you say, "Yes."

"Alright," Jeongguk concedes, gently rubbing his hands down your sides before his touch disappears entirely. "I'm all yours, baby."

Curiously, you trail your palms down the length of his arms, finding them both wedged behind his back. With a grin, you rock your hips against him a little harder, feeling his cock part your pussy lips and cover itself in your wetness. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you fuck me however you want."

All Jeongguk can say in response is a deep, needy groan. You roll your hips back slowly, dragging yourself over his hardening length, then reach with one hand between your legs while anchoring with the other on his shoulder. Jeongguk shudders as you gently grip the head of his cock and angle him upwards enough to find your entrance. 

Although you have done absolutely nothing, each breath heaves from your lungs, and you hover a moment gazing at Jeongguk—sweat-slicked and blush-pink, staring back at you so sweetly. 

"Ready?" you ask in a hushed tone, feeling your dominance slip away briefly. 

Jeongguk nods, gives a soft smile, and groans, "Please fuck me," and you lower yourself, giving in to his request. 

The stretch of Jeongguk's pierced cock is just painful enough that your back bows, and you shiver through the sensation. Moans fall from both your lips as you take him, stopping only when you are fully seated in his lap with him buried deep inside you. 

"So fucking tight," Jeongguk groans at the same time you whine, "Fuck, you're so big," and you chuckle in tandem, leaning forward enough to rest your foreheads against one another. 

Without allowing either of you to adjust or catch your breath, you lift your hips and drop them down, spearing yourself on his thick, delicious length. Your voice is pitchy and broken, moans practically tumbling out as screams as you set a pace that is dizzying and rough. 

Jeongguk's head falls against the headboard with a loud thunk, and you take the opportunity to wrap one hand around his throat while gripping his shoulder tightly in the other. With a gentle squeeze, Jeongguk's eyes widen before rolling back, and you slide your fingers up to hook into his mouth and force him to look at you. 

"Louder," you moan through pitchy sounds of your own. "I want to hear you."

Perhaps it should come as no surprise that Jeongguk is so obedient; you have always wondered if there is a submissive side to him, as well. He lets you tug on his jaw and begins to moan deep, pretty sounds, and it sends a flurry of arousal through you—determination to push him to give you more.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," Jeongguk groans, slightly slurred around your fingers. 

Eager to cum, you grind yourself down, pressing the tip of his cock right where you need him. The hand you have anchored on his shoulder drops between your legs, and you dance your fingers in circles over your clit, pushing yourself over the edge.

With a desperate moan, Jeongguk's head nearly falls back once more, and you hold him firmly in place, feeling drool slide from his mouth to your palm and wrist. You continue to grind and roll your hips, feeling yourself teetering just on the edge of collapse, rutting roughly against him. 

"Such a good boy," you praise teasingly through gasps and moans. "Letting me use your cock to get myself off."

Jeongguk appears to begin saying something—wrapping his lips around consonants as well as your fingertips—but all he can manage is a broken, "Mmmnaaahh—" incoherent and useless, and pretty enough to inch you closer to the precipice of pleasure.

"That's it," you groan, slamming your hips up and down as you chase your high, "fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Pleasure grips you, white-hot and intense, and you quake as you ride him, struggling to force your legs to continue moving. The sight, sound, and feeling of Jeongguk have you absolutely reeling, and everything settles in your chest and gut, heavy and big and ready to explode. 

"Fucking squeezing me, shit, so tight, baby," he groans as your fingers slip from his mouth and fall to the side.

Your hips still as your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze through orgasm, and you lose your strength, crashing forward against his shoulder. Jeongguk wraps his arms around yours, pinning them to your sides, then adjusts his legs and begins thrusting upward, hard and fast, making your head spin. 

A cacophony of moans punctuated by screams fall from your mouth as you are pushed past overstimulation and quickly chasing a new high. Jeongguk lifts you and leans forward, attempting to place you on your back, though you scramble and more or less fall, spreading yourself wide while he shimmies onto his knees and takes his place between your legs, pressing warm palms gently against your thighs. 

"Good?" Jeongguk asks—too big yet too small of a question for you to fully comprehend, so all you do is blink up and nod your head. He chuckles. "Do you need a break?"

"No," you croak, shaking your head almost frantically. "Fuck me, Jeon. Need you."

With a deep, eager groan, Jeongguk leans forward and fills you in one swift motion, thrusting while adjusting on his knees, tugging and lifting at your legs until one is draped over his shoulder and the other is wrapped around his hip. Jeongguk leans forward and brushes his fingertips over the apple of your cheek, gazing soft and reverent; so gentle compared to the brutal pace at which he fucks you, making your head absolutely spin. 

"You feel so good," Jeongguk whimpers sweetly, squeezing his eyes closed before widening them, gaze fixed down on you. "So fucking good."

Words fail you, but you make an attempt, huffing a string of vowels, with some consonants mixed in, stuttering around, "Good," and, "Big," and attempts at his name. You bury your face in his soft, warm hand, huffing warmth into his palm while your eyes flutter closed and you sink into pleasure. 

Fingertips graze over your clit, tentative at first, then direct. Your back arches and you gasp as arousal breaks and bursts throughout, coursing through your blood, filling every inch of you. Still not fully down from your last high, overstimulation vibrates through you, but you do your best to take it; you want him to make a mess of you.

When Jeongguk pulls out, it takes you by surprise, and you open your eyes wide, jutting your lip out in a pout. Jeongguk chuckles and begins to scoot toward the edge of your bed, standing and yanking on your ankle to reposition. 

"Your bed is the perfect height," he says as you scoot and rotate, spreading your legs for him once more.

Your hips hang off the very edge at a slight downward angle, spearing you on his length, and you squeal as he thrusts straight up into your sweet spot. The pace Jeongguk sets is merciless and intoxicating, and you claw at the edge of the bed as your eyes flit between Jeongguk's sweaty, ripped body, his pretty, fucked out face, and your off-white ceiling. 

Every vein and ripple and piece of metal drags along your walls, spilling nonsense from between your lips. You grasp at the comforter, attempting to hold on, feeling as if you could turn to goo and sink to the floor if you are not careful, but the material slides uselessly between your fingers.

A strong pressure builds, threatening to burst, which you recognize as the feeling you had before the baby squirt. Every inch of your sweat-slicked skin burns red hot, your eyes roll back, and you begin to heave through heavy lungs.

"Gonna—" you gasp, voice raspy and broken. "Fuck, Jeongguk, I'm—"

"That's it, baby, let me feel you cum," Jeongguk commands, leaning forward and driving his cock impossibly deeper. Sweat drips from his forehead to your tummy, tickling as it falls along your side, and you shudder, feeling all the more overwhelmed by the faintest sensation. 

Although you do not need the encouragement, you place a hand between your legs and slowly drag your fingertips over your clit, up and down, pulling the intense wave of pleasure through you. You squirm and squeal, mouth held open in a silent scream, and Jeongguk's hips tremble and quake before he pulls out and drops to his knees, burying his face between your thighs and pulling the last of your orgasm with his lips and tongue. 

Your legs fall without him there to hold them up—they may as well have turned to overcooked noodles. Jeongguk grips your ass, attempting to keep you from slipping off the mattress, but you are at too odd of an angle to do anything but crumple to the floor.  

With a chuckle huffed between his lips as he stops you in time for your feet to hit the floor, Jeongguk firmly presses your hips into the side of the mattress as he stands, lips and chin slick with your release. You chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, and he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth before leaning for a kiss. 

"I almost came," he confesses against your smiling lips.

"Figured," you tease, nipping at his little metal ring.

"Not done with you, yet," Jeongguk mutters, licking and sucking at your mouth in a way that is far too comical, making you push against his firm, sweaty chest.

"How do you have so much energy?" you groan, although you have no desire to stop. His silly nature is whiplash, however, and you feel shy standing in the nude beside your bed, still coming down from your last orgasm.

Jeongguk's smile softens, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The sweat on your skin is beginning to turn cold, and you shiver in his hold, hugging him tighter. 

"I could fuck you all day and night, baby," Jeongguk mutters. 

He absolutely could not, but the thought brings goosebumps to your skin, especially with his voice dropped so low. You like that he wants to fuck you endlessly—that he feels for you the way you feel for him. 

You hum against his neck, tasting salt on your lips, and mutter, "Do it, then," as you nip at his skin.

Jeongguk groans, lolling his head back for you to drag your lips and teeth over him. Then he grabs you by the hips and lifts you back onto the bed, using enough force that you actually bounce, gasping as you anchor yourself onto your elbows and instinctively open your legs.

"Want you on your knees," Jeongguk commands as he prowls forward, caging your hips with his muscular arms.

You scurry backward, then twist somewhat haphazardly, limbs still noodle soft, though you have gained a bit of your energy. The mattress dips behind you as you get onto your hands and knees. You hear a groan as two palms spread you, and as his tongue laves over your sensitive cunt, and your arms begin to tremble while a choked sob falls from your lips. 

"Can I eat your ass?" Jeongguk asks as his thumbs gently brush the skin around your rim. 

"Yes," you mutter, desperate to feel his tongue everywhere, "please."

Jeongguk squeezes at your soft flesh as his tongue dances over your puckered hole, and you tremble forward, falling onto your elbows with your face buried into the comforter, adjusting to a new, incredible sensation. He devours you, gently pressing his tongue into your hole and groaning as he licks and slurps and drools. 

His mouth leaves you, then his hands, and you attempt to anchor yourself higher onto your hands once more, but the press of his cock entering your cunt from behind makes you quake, and you collapse forward, face turned with your cheek squished into the comforter. Try as you might to get your bearings, all you can do is scramble as Jeongguk rubs one palm along your back while he begins to fuck you fast and deep. 

Cold saliva hits your ass as you hear the unmistakable sound of Jeongguk spitting, and you gasp, arching your back as the liquid slides over your rim, teasing you with the faintest touch. Then the press of a fingertip breaching your hole makes you squeal, and you grip tightly to the blanket, overwhelmed in the best way.

"Is this okay?" Jeongguk asks, and you nod frantically, desperate.

"Yes, please."

More spit dribbles down, sinking you further forward, and Jeongguk slowly prods his finger into you, twisting at the same tempo his cock pounds into your cunt. With one hand, you reach between your legs and graze your fingertips over your clit, and the wave that crashes over you is sudden, causing you to nearly scream.

"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, undoubtedly feeling you squeezing around him as you plummet toward total physical collapse. 

Jeongguk breaches your hole deep, probably past the knuckle, stinging so perfectly. You sob through it, hot and thick, drowning in lava. His piercings drag over your sweet spot, and you feel pressure build much like it had before, only more intense and dizzying. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, suddenly rushing and snapping through you like a wire pulled tautly. Your hand drops from your clit, and you scratch blunt fingernails against the bed as your high continues to build and rush, build and rush, gushing from you in waves. 

Jeongguk's finger slides from your ass, then he uses both hands to grab you by the arms and lift you, sitting you high on your knees. From this angle, his piercings drag deeper and harder, grazing along your walls and blinding you with more pleasure, squelching from how wet he makes you.

"That's it, baby squirt," Jeongguk has the audacity to say at a time like this, "don't hold back. Fucking cover me in it."

And you would find the nickname a lot more annoying if you were not gushing cum around his cock, splashing your inner thighs and undoubtedly, the bed. Your mouth hangs agape, but you only manage to squeak and sob, tears filling your vision and clouding the room, which is covered in a thick, blissful haze. 

Jeongguk's hips quake, losing their rhythm, and he grips tighter, pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest, head gently hitting his shoulder with each thrust. 

"Gonna fill that tight, messy cunt," Jeongguk growls into your ear, covering you in goosebumps. "Gonna make you all mine. Is that what you want? To be mine?"

Reeling and struggling to move your lips, you manage to stammer a weak, "Please," that is broken around the edges.

"Good girl," Jeongguk praises, teeth dragging across your shoulder. "So good for me."

Jeongguk thrusts hard, knocking the wind from you as you jolt forward, thankful to be held in his tight grasp. When his hips still, the sweetest, pitchiest sob falls from his lips, which clamp onto your shoulder, sucking and whimpering against your skin as he empties himself into you. 

The room spins, and you feel yourself slipping forward, helped down by strong, warm arms until you are lying against the soft refuge of your bed, drifting slowly away. Lips gently press into your shoulder, and you attempt to turn and face him, but Jeongguk is still buried deep inside you, and he wraps his leg over yours, pulling your back flush with his chest, holding you close. 

"Wow," you gasp, unable to stop the soft chuckle that works through your body as the room begins to return to focus and the sheen of sweat covering you turns cold.

"Yeah," Jeongguk responds, lips dragging over your skin, lazily pressing affectionately along their quest.

"So...that just happened," you find yourself blurting, suddenly feeling shy, shivering in his grasp. 

Jeongguk's limbs wrap tighter as he buries his face into your neck, muttering, "Yes, it did."

And now that you have fucked your best friend and poured every ounce of yourself into the task, you are acutely aware of the fact there is no turning back. Whatever line the two of you have crossed, you are stuck on this side of it for good. 

Jeongguk clears his throat, huffing what you think may be a quiet laugh against your shoulder before dragging his lips over your skin, making you shudder. 

"So, uh..." he begins, dancing his fingertips delicately over your hip as his soft cock slips from your cunt, bringing with it a combination of both your fluids, "...what, now?"

i know i mentioned glasses jk but there weren't photos that fit the color scheme for the banner, so here's a reminder.....bc even in potato quality he is still 🔥🥵😩

thank you for reading!

i do have a part 2 in the works but it may be a little bit before i get to it. let me know what you think! feedback and reblogs are the lifeblood of this hellsite. and likes are nice, too! 🥰

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What, now? is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[feddy-34]

inspired by this lovely tweet from @ohymnia have some brain rot

under the cut: dubcon/noncon, omegaverse, forced mating, mpreg mention, idk man

but anyway that one brock/nick fic on ao3 where brock's never had anyone to share his heat with before and so nick offers to help out cuz he has a moment where he sees brock being alone sitting by his locker and nick can smell the preheat on him and he's like "damn my qb is kinda pretty"

but!!! brock says no

and nick is not a person used to being told no (see above image) so he's pissed. who does brock think he is? rejecting a second overall pick, multi million dollar contract, top DE in the league alpha? he's the last overall pick, nobody wanted him anyway. and nick's getting more and more ratched up and his scent is getting stronger and stronger until brock feels like he's suffocating. he wants to leave but what can he do? everyone else has cleared out of the building already (brock took a long ass time in the showers) and nick's got him perfectly cornered.

plus brock's an omega going into preheat, nick's heavy ass pheromones are really starting to take a toll on him. he can feel his scent glands throbbing, knees getting weaker as the urge to submit takes over. and really, would it be so bad? finally having someone to ease the pain that roars through him setting every limb on fire? "i know you haven't had anyone to help you, but i'm here now," nick says, and isn't he? he's right there, a perfectly viable alpha. some part of brock's brain tells him to resist, to not give in, but that instinct is getting quieter and quieter as brock feels himself pulled towards nick.

and before he knows it, he's on his knees.

nick takes him home, cares for him through his heat, does an okay job, but he never leaves brock alone. every single moment he's there, presence and scent filling up every room of brock's house until he feels like he'll never be able to escape nick. he finally gets him out when his heat is clearly over, only convincing nick by promising that he'll come over after practice.

it's the first moment brock's had to himself in days. his mind feels numb, automatically dumping sheets and blankets into the washer, making himself a quick snack, mechanically scrubbing himself down. until he steps out of the shower and sees the marks. brock is absolutely covered in scratches, bruises, bites, and the more he looks the more he feels them start to sting and pulse. did nick really do this? brock doesn't remember feeling much pain, but he also doesn't really remember much at all. staring at the perfectly defined handprint-shaped bruises covering his hips and waist, his stomach starts to sink.

but nick is nice enough at practice and he sits next to brock on the plane a few times and he takes him out to dinner once or twice and doesn't hit him as hard during scramble drills. brock feels like he's moving in a slight haze until his next heat rolls around. and nick finds him in the locker room again.

this time there's no resistance, brock sliding silently to his knees as the instinct tugging at the back of his mind is silenced. he's quiet as nick drives him home, head leaning against the window. he presses his mouth shut as nick grabs his arm to drag him out of the car. he bites his lip as nick messes up his carefully crafted nest. this time his mind is clear. he can feel every bruising hold, every sharp scratch, every aching bite. but nick's helping him, isn't he? brock's heard that it's supposed to hurt, even when you're with an alpha.

and there is some relief, when nick pushes in, when he rocks his hips back and forth in a smooth continuous notion, when he lightly trails his fingertips all over brock's body. and when his knot finally pops, it's the most relief brock has felt all day.

but then. the bite.

sheer piercing agony radiating out from brock's neck to every part of his body. he feels like he's going to faint, ears ringing and vision blacked out.

and it's okay, it's fine. nick helps him clean out the bloody mess left on the front of his throat, nicely placed for the whole world to see. brock purdy, officially claimed omega. of course he hasn't bitten nick back yet but they'll do that nick's next rut. right? and brock didn't actually ask to be mated but nick's just helping him and looking out for him, the way a good alpha would. nick says it's a dangerous league, that they're aren't many alphas like himself who would be willing to help such a low status omega. brock should consider himself lucky.

and so he lives his little mated life, alphas steering clear of him, even ones he used to call friends. nick scares them away with his dark glare and bared teeth. but that's alright because he just needs nick. all he needed was a good alpha, and now look how well things are going. soon enough nick's going to put a baby in him and then he won't have to worry about football at all. brock won't have to worry about players hitting him on the field, even though he lives for the adrenaline rush. he won't have to deal with leading anyone, even though that's all he's ever wanted in life. he won't have to deal with alphas cornering him when he's vulnerable, although only nick ever does.

but he's an alpha, he can take what he wants. and brock is his. his to use, his to rule, his to discard when he gets bored. and so if brock jumps when he feels those hands close around his waist, so what? so what if the locker room hasn't emptied yet and brock can feel the weight of their stares on his shoulders? so what if he has to wear more and more layers to cover up the marks that nick always leaves? so what if the cleaning staff have tried to slip him notes, asking about his screams?

he won't have to worry about any of that soon, now that his life's been taken away.

[puuuders]

Cheater ~ Terzomega

Fluff and smut

~

A/N - I'm not labeling this as a one shot because I'm weird and have ideas to continue this same story of bedroom discoveries! Also - I'm gonna say it rn I'm nervous as hell posting this bc it is I venturing into an interest (not necessarily sexual) that's been growing over some time. I say not necessarily sexual bc yeah this is smut but I can seperate it from sex and love it just as much, idk if that makes sense. The next one in this mini series won't have smut in it, it was an impulse decision to add smut to this one bc I'm ovulating my bad

Sorry for rambling I'm just nervous

~

Terzo decides to cheat in a game of Uno, and he pays the price.

~

Content warning: tickling, light bondage, mention of torture

2.4 k words

Read on AO3

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“How about a bet, Omega ghoul?” Terzo cooed, a very obvious sultry tone in his voice. He placed his Uno cards face down as he leaned forward across the table on his forearms. Omega tilted his head.

“Go on.”

“Whoever wins…” Terzo’s eyes flickered around the ghoul’s face, traveling down to as much chest as he could see, “… Gets to do whatever they want to the other.”

Omega grinned, holding his head up with his clawed hand. 

“Is that so?” He sighed dramatically and tsked, looking back down at his cards. “You’d better hope you win.”

Terzo shivered a bit at the statement, picking his cards back up. He watched as Omega placed down a +2. Looking in his hands, he held two of the same cards. Smiling slyly, he drew 2 more anyway.

“Uno,” Omega growled through a toothy grin. Terzo pretended to be nervous, ignoring the wild card in his hand to place down something entirely useless. Omega chuckled darkly as he placed down his last card.

“I win.”

Terzo sighed and lazily dropped his cards, revealing the actions he could have done against the ghoul, but chose not to. Omega's eyes gazed down at them, and then back at Terzo, almost in a glare. 

“Oh, how unfortunate,” Terzo feigned a whine, standing up from his seat. He sat down on Omega's lap, making the ghoul grunt. 

“I suppose you win this bet, hm?”

“You cheated.” Omega growled, gripping Terzo's already partially revealed thighs through his robe. 

“In your favor.” Terzo booped his nose. 

“You still cheated.”

“Then punish me.”

Omega stood up, tucking one arm under terzo's knees and the other holding his back, carrying him bridal style to the couch. Terzo squealed with delight as he wrapped his wrists around Omega's neck, but only briefly before being tossed on to the soft cushions. Omega crawled on top of him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. 

Terzo stared up at Omega with lust filled, bratty eyes, biting his lip slightly as he wiggled helplessly in his grasp. Omega glowered down at the cocky grin on his beloved's face, determined to wipe it off. 

Or, in this case, turn it into a painful smile. 

“Punish you, hm?” Omega echoed as he slowly removed the cloth rope tied across the waist of Terzo's robe that held it shut. He pulled his wrists towards him, tying the cloth around them, using the loose end to pull his wrists higher above his head. Terzo gasped excitedly as watched Omega pull apart his robe, exposing his bare chest, stomach, hips and thighs, his groin and wet erection covered by his favorite pair of black lace panties. 

Omega repositioned himself to straddle Terzo's thighs, keeping his legs pinned. He couldn't help but grind his cock against Terzo's at least a little, although he knew that's what the little brat wanted. He didn't deserve what he wanted after such behavior. But how could he resist touching this perfect body, all laid out for him to devour? 

Then, an evil, toothy grin spread across the ghouls face. 

Terzo's own grin widened, curious as to what was going on in Omega's mind. 

“Anything?” Omega placed two claws on Terzo's chest, slowly walking them up to his neck. Terzo shivered and arched slightly. 

“Anything.” Terzo whispered. 

Without any further warning, Omega's hand slid down his body and to his stomach, claws lightly scratching along his sides. Terzo's eyes snapped open as he tried to buck, unable to with Omega's weight over his thighs. 

“W-wait-!” Terzo shrieked, tugging on the bonds around his wrists. 

“You said anything,” Omega teased, retracting his claws so he could press his fingertips into the muscles of his belly. Moving towards his waist, Terzo squealed and tried to twist, erupting into frantic giggles. 

“Stop it!” Terzo whined through his giggles. Omega smiled fondly, his vengefulness giving way to adoration, finding Terzo's ticklishness unbelievably cute. 

“Aww,” Omega cooed as he pulled Terzo's wrists down to his sides so he could use his tail to hold on to them. With both hands free, claws retracted, he began to gently press into his hips with his thumbs. Terzo gasped and jolted, breaking out from high pitched giggles to belly laughs that echoed across their shared quarters. 

“STOP IT!” he cried out over Omega's delighted laughs. Omega squeezed and rubbed a few more times before stopping, not wanting to drive him mad by not giving him any break. Terzo gasped for air, still giggling a bit as Omega leaned forward. Terzo was granted a good view of Omega's chest hovering above him as Omega searched for something unknown. That is, until Terzo felt the rope pull tighter, Omega having found a leg of a side table to tie the other end to. 

“Noo!” Terzo whined pathetically, tugging harder. 

“You said anything,” Omega reminded him once again as his hands found his sides again, “I'm taking what I've earned.”

Terzo whimpered, staring down at Omega's rubbing palms. Omega sighed lovingly. 

“I will stop if you really want me to.” Omega said genuinely, cupping Terzo's cheek. Terzo leaned in to the touch. 

“I'm fine…” Terzo blushed, not wanting to admit he kind of enjoyed it. He couldn't handle it for too long though, and he let Omega know that. So they established a safe word, it being, uncreatively, “pineapple”, for when Terzo was truly unable to take any more. 

“This is the only time I'm letting you do this,” Terzo hissed unseriously, his heart beating fast as Omega began to rub his stomach again, “if I knew you would do this I wouldn't have made that bet!”

“There's no fun in that attitude, amore,” Omega suddenly began to wiggle his fingertips across his stomach, smirking as Terzo jolted and began to squirm, “how about we just smile and laugh, hm?” 

“Not fair!” Terzo squealed out between his laughs and gasps. 

“You certainly seem to like that idea, of just smiling and laughing,” Omega's hands scribbled up to his ribs, “let's continue then.”

“No! No!” Terzo threw his head back, his body practically convulsing with his laughs. Omega blushed from just the sight of it, loving to see such a large smile on his partner's face, even if he had to force it out of him. It was truly one of the most beautiful things to the ghoul. 

“Hmm,” Omega pondered out loud, fingers dancing up to his underarms, “what about here?”

Terzo shrieked, arching his back, beginning to hiccup as he laughed. 

“NO NOT THERE!” He wailed. 

“Yes, there!” Omega laughed, loving his reaction. He scribbled around the area for only a few seconds, not wanting to wear the poor man out too quickly. Omega drew a sharp breath as he thought of something. 

“Oh, I know.” Omega cooed with an evil tone, turning around on Terzo's lap. 

“Don't you dare!” Terzo yelled between breaths. “Don't you dare!”

Omega ignored him, prying his toes out from digging into the cushions at a failed attempt to protect them. Terzo immediately began to kick, giggling already, but his fight was nothing compared to Omega's brute strength. 

“Have you ever heard of ‘This Little Piggy’, hmm?” Omega teased, scooting down to sit on Terzo's shins to keep him from squirming too much. Terzo giggled hysterically, nodding his head, though Omega couldn't see. 

“Let's play that game, shall we? But let's call it…” Omega gently pinched Terzo's toes, pushing out his claws again to wiggle them underneath, “these little piggies!” 

Terzo squealed, trying to kick but being unable to now. Omega continued. 

“These little piggies went to the market!” Omega began to tickle under each toe as he went, making Terzo jerk around and laugh maniacally. He moved to the next one. 

“These little piggies stayed home.” 

Terzo gasped, huffing before shrieking it all out as Omega moved on to the next. 

“These little piggies had roast beef!”

Terzo shook his head frantically. 

“These little piggies had none.”

Omega paused for a moment, looking back at Terzo's red face before turning back to finish. 

“And…” Omega drew out the wait silently for a few seconds just to make Terzo squirm. 

“THESE little piggies-” Omega began to scribble his claws all over Terzo's soles, making him buck and twist wildly with hysterical laughter. 

“Went ‘wee wee wee’ all the way home!” 

Omega couldn't finish without giggling himself, falling deeper in love with Terzo and his beautiful, crazy laughter. He turned back around, simply sitting over top of Terzo, waiting for him to finish giggling and gasping for air. 

“No safeword yet?” Omega asked. Terzo had tears building up in his eyes. He growled at Omega through clenched, grinning teeth, earning himself a deserved poke in the ribs. Terzo tensed and growled again.

“Too much of a brat,” Omega sighed, attacking his sides once more, “that’s why you’re getting this. Oh, which reminds me. What did you expect to happen, hm?”

Terzo thrashed, attempting to answer the best he could through his hysterics.

“I thought- I thought y-you’d fuck me!” Terzo giggled out. Omega hummed, pretending not to have known.

“You think you deserve my cock?” Omega pressed his hips down, grinding against Terzo’s own, still raging, erection. Terzo’s jaw went slack briefly before squeaking at a pinch of his hips. 

“You think after cheating in Uno you deserve to get fucked?” Omega squeezed his hips a few times before locking his fingers in his panties, making Terzo’s squeals give way to a desperate whimper. Terzo nodded.

“I’ve endured your torture long enough! I’ve earned it!” He protested, cheeks red and aching from his smile.

“‘Torture’?” Omega echoed, his hands wiggling down Terzo’s panties. “You’re rock hard.”

Terzo looked away, embarrassed at the fact that he was just about dripping precum despite what Omega had done to him. He should be angry, he thought, he should be annoyed.

“Doesn’t seem like you hated it all that much.”

“Just touch me, ghoul.” Terzo tried to sound confident, but Omega laughed at his shy tone. Nonetheless, Omega gently wrapped one hand around his shaft, pumping slowly. Terzo’s smile slowly faded as his lips parted and eyes fluttered shut, shifting his wrists around in their bonds.

“You like it?” Omega leaned forward, one hand still pumping his lover’s cock, the other fumbling with his sweatpants. “You like the feeling of being tied up?”

Terzo nodded, tugging just for the sake of squirming. Omega removed his hand from his cock, much to Terzo’s dismay, to peel his own sweatpants off and toss them on the floor. Omega placed his knees on either side of Terzo’s legs, bringing the smaller man’s shins up and laying them on his shoulders.

“Amore,” omega said before spitting on his own cock that had been released from the confines of his boxers, “did you like all of that?”

Terzo was hypnotized at the sight of Omega stroking himself, preparing to fuck his tight hole. He didn’t even hear Omegas question.

“I’m not giving you this cock until you admit it.”

Terzo’s eyes flicked up, unsure of how Omega had managed to get him to blush this much.

“B-but- Not fair!” Terzo whined, trying to back himself up on Omega’s now wet cock. Teasingly, Omega rubbed the tip against his hole, making Terzo shiver.

“Just admit it and I’ll pump you so full, you’ll defy the laws of nature and carry my kits.”

“I liked it!” Terzo blurted. “I liked it! Impregnate me!”

“Oh, you liked it?” Omega growled through a toothy grin, slowly sliding his cock in as promised. “Tell me again.”

“I liked it!” Terzo moaned out, his eyes rolling back as Omega began to thrust gently, giving him some time to adjust before he’d start to pound. Omega gripped Terzo’s sides. Terzo looked down, fear in his eyes. But there was something else that glimmered, Omega swore he saw it. He swore he saw excitement in those mismatched eyes as he began to fuck into him, fingers rubbing meanacingly against his torso.

Omega gaze Terzo’s sides a few experimental squeezes, to the rhythm of his pounds. Terzo’s body twitched and jolted as it was pushed upwards, pleads leaving Terzo’s mouth.

“No! No!” Terzo cried with each squeeze. Omega couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“No what?” Omega growled, fingers swiping across his skin. “No to this?” He stopped thrusting, burying his cock up to the hilt while his fingers continued their assault. Terzo gasped and laughed and moaned, his brain confused as to how he was supposed to react. 

“Or no to this?” Omega stopped his fingers, beginning to pound again, Terzo’s eyes fluttered, drool dripping down his lips as he struggled to say anything coherent.

“No! I mean- Yes! I- I mean- I- fuck!” Terzo dropped his head back, tongue falling out of his mouth as his brain was turned to mush.

“You don’t even know.” Omega tickled his hips, making Terzo moan loud. “What a little slut.”

Suddenly Terzo’s hips bucked and cum shot out of his untouched cock harder than either of them had ever seen, ropes landing on his own cheeks and nose. He seemed unphased by this other than his crazed, cross eyed moans and laughs. The sight was too much for Omega, and he snapped his hips forward, knot popping inside of Terzo as he filled Terzo so hard he expected it to come out of his nose and mouth.

Omega thrusted for a little while longer, huffing as he went, seeing his lover's mind so scrambled making his own the same way. But eventually, he became too sensitive and slowly came to a stop, thumbs pressing firmly into Terzo's hips. Terzo looked absolutely gorgeous laid out in front of him; head turned to the side with a fucked-stupid and blissed out look on his face, gasping and crying, drool and cum ruining his clean face and the couch beneath them. His arms still stretched nicely above his head, a guaranteed burn under the cloth from all that squirming. 

“Baby,” Omega sighed breathlessly, reaching down to turn Terzo's face towards him, “you alright?”

Terzo swallowed his drool and nodded, barely enough to get his message across. Omega smiled. 

“You look exhausted.” Omega stepped off of him, pulling up his boxers. Moving towards the side table, he untied Terzo's wrists, kissing the small burns left on them. 

“Poor thing.” Omega gently picked Terzo up. “Let's get you in a bath.” 

[acourtofladydeath]

This is @born-to-riot but I’m on my phone so it won’t let me ask you with my account. But if you’re taking short requests can you please talk about the first time Eris lets Azriel have complete control of him (sexually and/or aftercare) like Eris is so in his head all the time I want to see some trust and just let him let go and azriel can help him do that idk (shadows as blindfolds and restraints and feeling Azriel’s scars on his skin are highly encouraged but not necessary) (also I haven’t requested a Drabble in a minute so idk if this counts) have fun :)

Alrighty, so I partially listened and partially did not. This is not sexually based aftercare, but Azriel is still taking care of Eris after something happens so I'M GONNA COUNT IT. Here's your drabble! (Which I managed to keep under 1K by 6 words and I'm very proud.)

Read "The Wall Comes Down" here on AO3, or below the cut.

TW: Mild descriptions of injuries from canon typical violence.

Azriel’s shadows were frantic as they pulled him faster and faster toward their mate. Hurry they practically yelled at him he needs us. One word kept coming through clearer than the rest, and each time he heard it, Azriel picked up his pace. Pain.

As he reached the hallway of Eris’s room, he began to see the trail of blood, leading from where he knew the Autumn Court dungeons lie, where Beron loved to take his sons. Barreling through the door, terrified about what he was about to see, Azriel tugged once more on the bond that had been silent for far too long. 

His breath stopped entirely as he took in his mate, beaten and broken, lying face down on the rug in front of the crackling fireplace, as if it had taken all of this strength just to make it into the room. “Eris…” Azriel’s voice broke as he spoke, rushing to turn his mate over. “Azriel, is that you?” Eris stirred as he was jostled, wincing in pain at the bruises and cuts littering his unclothed abdomen. The faint tinge of faebane around the edges of the wounds and the rag stained the same clutched in Eris’s hand told Azriel all he needed to know. 

Azriel went to reach for the cloth, but Eris pulled it away, inhaling sharply with the quick motion. “No, I can do it. I can take care of myself.” Eris rolled out of his mate’s arms, curling in on his body to try and protect himself from whatever he perceived would happen if he ever let anyone take care of himself. He couldn’t be weak, couldn’t ever show fault…not if he wanted to survive.

Eris tried to sit up, grinding his teeth together as he found the pain, pretending not to notice the shadows gathered around him, trying to ease his motions. Azriel sat back, present but silent, letting his mate work through this himself as much as he could bear. As Eris went to clean the next spot the pain was so intense he couldn’t choke down his sob fast enough. Azriel came up behind him, slowly and gently. “Please love, let me help you.” 

Letting out a shaking, teary breath Eris responded, “If I let you help, you’ll think I’m weak…they’ll all think I’m weak. I have to do this Azriel…” 

Azriel placed a hand around Eris’s still holding the rag, squeezing with tight reassurance. “But you are not alone, Eris, and you are not weak. Receiving help is not a weakness, it’s one of our greatest strengths. Please, let me take care of you. Let me in.” Taking several shaky breaths, Eris closed his eyes, leaning his head back to wrest on Azriel’s solid chest behind him. With each passing second, Azriel felt his mate relax into his arms, the adrenaline waning from his system as he finally started to allow himself to feel safe, to be cared for. 

Moments later, Eris removed his hand from Azriel’s, leaving the cloth behind. Turning his head into his mate’s leathers Eris nodded, a soft and tentative “okay,” slipping from his battered lips as he finally gave in and allowed someone to care for him. As he let that final protective wall drop between him and Azriel and gave this last piece of himself over. 

Azriel placed a soft kiss in Eris’s blood matted hair before he got to work, swiftly and surely cleaning the wounds. Eris barely made a sound, grunting softly at the particularly sensitive swipes of the cloth over his damaged body. But for the first time in all the years they’d been together, Eris allowed himself to give this last bit of him over to his mate. He let him help. 

Some time later, when the wounds were properly cleaned and Eris was finally beginning to heal, Azriel carried him to the washroom, gently placing him in the tub that was already full of hot, soapy water. Strand by strand, Azriel detangled and washed his mate's hair, brushing each long piece out and cleaning it to his mate’s satisfaction. Every time before this, Eris had allowed him to watch as he cleaned himself up after an evening with his father, and Azriel had paid special attention to how he washed his hair. 

This final part of his post-torture ritual seemed to be the final cleansing, a way to wash the sins of his father fully from his body before he allowed himself to sleep. Azriel had taken notes, praying to the Mother for the day that Eris would allow him to help. And now that that day had come, he was fully ready. His mate, breathing deeply in the tub, looked up at him as Azriel finished and placed the brush he’d been using on the edge of the tub. 

“You’ve been paying attention.” 

“It is my job, you know.” 

Eris winced slightly at that, and Azriel hastily added on.

“You are not a task Eris. Caring for you is not a burden. It’s a privilege. And I’m honored you let me close enough to let me help you.” He tacked on the finally aspect of that statement in his mind, but Eris heard it anyway. 

“Well, I’ll be checking your work Shadowsinger, but it seems as if you’ve done…adequately. For a first try that is.” 

Azriel’s heart swelled for in this banter, the love language that was uniquely their own, he heard the unsaid words. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for knowing. And thank you for helping. 

“As long as I get to keep trying,” Azriel said as he wrapped his mate in a towel, and helped him back to his bed where he’d rest while he recovered from the last of his wounds. But this time, he wouldn’t handle it alone. He’d rest safely held in his mate’s arms, cocooned within the fortress of his wings.

[panpanicatmha]

hey it’s writing ask time <3

7, 11, 17, 26, 33

(idk if I’m allowed to ask more than one thing but god I love hearing opinions)

EMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM also YES you absolutely can ask more than one thing :DDD

7. Your favourite ao3 tag.

It would absolutely be "Possessive Midoriya Izuku" and "Pining Bakugou Katsuki". Gotta love me some gay boyos being gay boyos

11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

1) we were about to kiss but then something/someone interrupted us and now we're going to pretend it didn't happen, 2) overhearing part of a conversation and running off, and 3) pretend dating to make an ex jealous and then falling in love with the "fake" partner. The first two because if used well, can be really good, but a lot of people use them for no other reason than to drag out the plot for no reason and never explaining why the characters acted that way (insecurity, fear, thinking the other was just in the moment, etc) As for the third one, again, if written well I will enjoy it, but also a lot of times people use it to make certain characters unnecessarily petty to the point at that it's OOC.

17. Past or present tense? Why?

...I'm not gonna lie, I don't purposefully choose. If I start something in past tense, I roll with past tense. If I start with present, I roll with present. I think I tend to lean towards with present tense more? Idk lol

26. What would you describe as OOC?

Honestly really depends on the character. In general though, I'd say overexaggerating one of their MANY traits (like how some fics exaggerate Izuku's bright & bubbly personality and make him a soft uwu boy and border on feminizing him) or bashing a character purely because not bashing the character wouldn't work with the pairing (like Ochako bashing in BkDk/DkBk fics).

33. Give your writing a compliment.

I have strong skills when it comes to dialogue. Sometimes I'll say the dialogue out loud to make sure it sounds natural, like something I'd just say randomly to my irl friend or whatever, and so it flows smoothly and I can make dialogue from different characters be distinct.

Writing Ask Game Questions

[thebrokenbean]

Okay spoilers for Chapter 25 of Breaking Bread by @ss-shitstorm

I said in the Ao3 comments section that I have theories, and I was told to share. I typed all of this out in Ao3 but realized what an utter wall of text it was going to be, so here it is on Tumblr! Technically it'll be a wall of text anyway but... idk formatting probably works better here lol

In any case, I'm just gonna pick up from my first thought and go from there.

Theory time about Reader's Stranger:

Metal. He's metal. Definitely Megs, especially since we've already found out that he shares the same dream as Reader. Based on his dialogue I'm also guessing that he's experiencing this dream at the exact same time as Reader - they're talking to each other via the dream world and neither of them even knows it.

"I've seen these rooms, I've walked these floors" excuse the Hallelujah quote lol but Reader's recognition of their surroundings reminded me of that. Anyway, I'm getting reincarnation vibes here??? Not that they've both reincarnated though. Megs has been alive far too long for that. BUT maybe it was just Reader?? That would explain why he had such reverence when he asked if it was really them that he was seeing and speaking to.

Their nickname is 'Mouse'. Mouse = tiny, so this could mean in their past life that they were a human he knew very well (How well remains to be seen but I'm leaning towards them being romantic, or at least almost that way, despite how he says 'friend'). If they weren't a human in their past life, maybe they were a small Cybertronian (a minibot??) and 'mouse' is just the English translation of the Cybertronian word? And if they were indeed Cybertronian, 'mouse' could either apply to their physical size or maybe their speed/agility?

"You're light-years from your time, little one"

This ^ does throw me off though. He did show (hastily masked) grief when Reader's death was mentioned, so it's possible he was just trying to reassure them? I mean, it's possible (again, assuming that they're talking directly to his subconscious) he thinks they're just a memory. Like a snapshot of the person he once knew, but the snapshot is taken from before anything bad happened to them. If that's the case, he could just be reassuring them that they're fine so that he doesn't have to relive the pain & deal with his Stranger (re?)learning of their terrible fate. So to connect back to the 'light-years' part, that could just be a figure of speech.

"Were it up to me, I'd never leave"

See see this is one of the reasons why I think they're both dreaming each other in real-time! HOWEVER.

“But you have to leave.”/“We both do. We’ve our lives to return to, after all.”

We both do. This probably throws off the reincarnation theory, which should simply confuse me but instead I'm confused and also fascinated!

What does he mean? How much is he actually aware of?? He definitely doesn't recognize Reader outside of the dream world, since he'd be all over them and (I quote) treating them "as a knight would his king". So what kind of life does he think his Stranger is returning to when they wake up?? Maybe this actually does support the reincarnation theory, while also telling us that he knows about said reincarnation?? Does he think their reincarnated form is somewhere else on the planet (somewhere else in the universe even??) living their life without him, while they're actually right under his olfactory sensor in the form of Reader?? I'm so curious!

“Am I gonna see you again?”/“Of that, you’ve unfortunately no choice.”

The 'unfortunately' here is hanging me up. Granted, "his smile loses all traces of sorrow", so he's back to being a bit of a cheeky menace, which is good because that's normal for him. Butttt something feels off? I think is the right term here? Idk. Might be nothing, or it might be super significant. Either way, I think him being so sure of seeing them again has to do with the dreams. If he meant they'd see him in the real world, that would mean he'd know who Reader is and I've already established that I think their current dynamic would be wildly different if that were the case. So it's possible he simply knows that they'll both have these repeating dreams occur again.

“You’d think the eons that passed would have afforded me greater equanimity, but I’m every bit as emotional as I thought I’d be.”

Wait wait going backwards in the chapter to look at this for a second- "as I thought I'd be." Was he expecting to meet them in this dream?? Also, eons?? Just how much time has passed since he last saw his Stranger in person? Are we looking at multiple reincarnations, if Reader was indeed originally a human?

“There is much I cannot discuss, despite my overwhelming longing to do so.”

Okay actually it's possible he does know about reincarnation. Possibly. I really want to know what he wants to discuss, but for the sake of theorizing... maybe he's refraining from telling them because of what I mentioned about keeping them safe from the knowledge of their horribly tragic death. But it should be fine to talk about other not so horrible things, so that's hard to say. Maybe he does know about reincarnation, knows his Stranger forgets everything, and doesn't want to overwhelm them? Again, hard to say.

“But I don’t... I don’t know who you are.” / “And it must stay that way, for now.”

Hnnnnn yeah I think he knows. He's got to. Or at the very least, his subconscious does. Again, not so sure why he's keeping that a secret from them. Maybe like I mentioned earlier it really is just his subconscious that Reader is speaking to? If it were his main consciousness (like it sort of seems to be for Reader), he probably wouldn't care so much about being cautious (we all know TFP Megs can be a bit too focused on instant gratification lol), but perhaps his subconscious knows better? There's still a lot that remains to be seen though.

Hoo boy. That is utter word vomit. My gosh. Okay. I thinkkk I got everything. I sincerely hope that didn't get too incoherent. I was running out of ways to express my thoughts lol. Plus it was like 1am when I wrote this last night and I'd had a long day 😂

In any case, I'm off to read Chapter 26 because gahh I'm so excited to see where this goes!

[canarydarity]

2023 Writing Round-Up

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you’re most excited about.

I was tagged by @bidoofenergy :D thank you for the tag !!! <3

January

bright&fast [Jimmy & Tango | 1,019 words ]

ficlet based on this tumblr post

okay, FINE, i'll explore the ancient city with you—but ONLY if we hold hands the entire time we're down there!!! [Jimmy/Tango | 1,643 words]

That trip to the ancient city retrieving the diamond pants for Bigb

The Night Sky is Full of Love [Scar/Grian | 2,498 words]

Uhhhhhhhhhhh 3L finale from scars pov

Lonely Is the Long Con [Scar/Grian | 4,463 words]

'The trick to selling a good con was believing in it yourself—no one was going to fall for something they didn’t believe that you believed to be true. Scar knew this and he knew it well, but still, he was always his own toughest audience.' or, the product of my month-long last life scar breakdown :)

February

Strawberry Wine (and all the time we used to have) [Jimmy/Tango | 2,332 words]

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 or whatever it was the song said idk or, the product of my year-long strawberry wine breakdown :)

"I'm trusting you, please don't make me regret it" Dialogue prompt ask [Scar/Grian | 2,360 words]

uhhhhhhhhhhhh DL finale from scars pov

March

We Shall Prevail [Scar/Grian | 2,773 words]

Those few moments in the pond during the 3L finale from Scars pov

At Another Place in Time [Jimmy/Tango | 1,632 words]

limited life session 1 vignette Tangos pov

At Another Place in Time II [Jimmy/Tango | 1,884 words]

limited life session 2 vignette Tangos pov

April

Stay, Find, Become, Join, Soon [Pixlriffs | 2,343 words]

ES2 Pix clearing the capitals catacombs, finding the crown

May

Withering Away [Pixlriffs | 1,638 words]

ES2 ghost Pix, stuck reenacting his death

June

Sentinel Species, Chapter 1 [Jimmy Solidarity | 9,586 words]

An au with a slightly different take on the canary curse, leaning harder towards harbinger of death

July

Sentinel Species, Chapter 2 [Jimmy Solidarity | 7,000 words]

The Rest of His Life [Jimmy/Tango | 1,569 words]

mooooooooore rancher grief rehearsal <3 Jimmy mourning Tango before he's even gone

August

I was sick with covid for the entire month and had absolutely no brain function available for writing </33

September

🙌 gay baseball au 🙌 (which I...really have to start calling by its actual name: Against All Odds)

Which...I know is not finished and posted yet. But I am really proud of my progress and it's taken up a lot of my writing time so I'm including it here anyway!! plot summary snippets

October

see above^^^

November

Thus With A Kiss [Jimmy/Tango | 2,706 words]

Team Rancher Romeo and Juliet au, the balcony scene. a cliche maybe but godbless

December

personal projects mostly!

:D and that was my year!! I am really glad I was tagged in this because it was nice looking back and seeing how much I wrote! I don't think I've ever written and shared so much consistently throughout any year of my life, so it was a pleasant surprise to see what I was able to accomplish here :'))

I am (no pressure, /nf) tagging: @birrdies @liloinkoink @seasonal-writes @hitheeprithee @cillpiines if any of them would like to participate :))

[gigglemugger]

The Fish and the Ten of Cups.

Fandom: Little Shop of Horrors (1986).

Pairing: Seymour Krellborn/Audrey Fulquard.

Synopsis:

In which Audrey Fulquard hears about Seymour a lot throughout her life, before even seeing his face for the first time

(Aka M.D. watched the Theatrical version of Little Shop of Horrors '86, cried copiously, and had another fanfic idea beamed into her brain).

I'm posting it here because a nice commenter renewed my interest in this fic and I decided to rewrite some parts for pacing, and better sentences. No content was heavily altered, though. Still not beta read :)

Word Count: 8,867.

AO3 Tags: Falling In Love, Tarot, sorry - Freeform, Poor Life Choices, Slice of Life, idk how to tag this it's kind of like a 5 + 1 things but it's also not?, I wrote this in 3 days, I'm Bad At Tagging, Fluff and Angst, mostly fluff, Character Study, her life is kinda tragic until she gets to the flower shop tbh, but that's relatable right.

Language: English.

CW: Mentions of abuse, because it's Audrey. Men are gross in this :(

AO3 link.

The first time Audrey heard about him, it was a Monday night. The streets outside were vicious, chaotic, noisy. She was in bed, looking at the ceiling and intently listening to every police siren, every alteration of voice, and every dog bark that Skid Row had to offer. She was alone. She was thirteen years old.

Tomorrow she had school, though she didn’t know how long she’d be going to that anymore. It seemed like a waste of time considering how bad her grades were. Every time she tried to put her mind to the books something distracted her, either a boy who pulled her hair, or a girl sticking gum to her pages before calling her a slut. 

She needed to think of something else...

Tentatively, Audrey got up. She knew she couldn't sleep, not now, so she traced the steps necessary to cross the room, making sure to keep her steps light enough. She didn't want to alert her mother. She hoped she was fast asleep and peaceful.

Audrey slowly opened the door. She stepped into the hallway thinking of what she could find in the fridge to turn into a meal, but something else stopped her on the way, something other than street sounds: Voices, coming from the kitchen. Two women, one clearly her mother–bearer of a mousy voice, she spoke in a lower tone surely not to wake her–and another, of unknown origin–a hoarse sound, raspy. They talked amongst themselves, in confidence.

The latter woman was definitely a smoker and Audrey twisted her nose. She didn’t like smokers--she kissed only a couple of them, but it was enough for her to know that the taste lingers in your mouth for far longer than it should. 

With her heart now beating fast and hands clammy, Audrey decided to approach the edge of the hallway slowly, as to not be heard. She leaned on the corner to look into the kitchen and saw her mother was sitting at the round, chipped kitchen table they had. The woman with her, the stranger, had what Audrey considered to be pretty, bright, flaming red hair. She figured it was dyed, which only made her more fascinated–she herself wanted to dye her bland, brown hair into a bleach blonde, like the women she saw on the magazines at the newstands when she was on the way home from school. They all looked so glamorous and she wondered if she would look the same when she grew up.

Fat chance, said the girls from her class.

The woman sitting at the table coughed every few seconds, pulling Audrey back into the scene, and she watched as she put the cigarette on her lips before dragging, longly. Her pink lipstick stained it all over.

"Is he going to come back home?" Audrey's mother asked. Her back was towards her, but a daughter recognized that tone of voice, could see in her head the sort of expression she had in her eyes. Her mother had blue eyes, which always looked tired and wet. Her father used to say that they looked like a dog's, but sometimes added that they were pretty once upon a time, when he was feeling merciful. That was one of the nicer things he had to say about her.

“We’ve been over this,” the hoarse voiced woman with pretty hair answered, shuffling a deck of cards. “He’s not gonna be back.”

Her mother was silent and Audrey held her breath, looking at the floor. So that was that. The fact her father was taking longer and longer to visit wasn’t simply a quirk of moving towns and “trying to make it big” as he put it with what neighbors called a used car salesman smile (but never to his face). No. It was something else entirely. He had left them permanently.

“Will he at least send some money?” 

The cards were shuffled again. Audrey watched as the expert fingers moved to put one over the other, over the other. It was so enthralling that when a bunch of cards fell on the table, she was nearly startled. She put her hand on her mouth, as to not to make any accidental yelps or gasps.

Luckily, the women seemed to be likewise entranced and nothing was done to sever their focus.

The reading resumed.

“You have the three and the four of swords. This is a period of stagnation. You are heartbroken, clearly." Both nodded their heads, forlorn. No shit. "The four is showing a time of rest.” She flipped another one of the cards “Five of pentacles. Sorry. No money being sent here.”

Audrey’s mother’s head bowed down. The pretty haired woman dragged a cigarette. The lipstick stained and the fire caught. Audrey took another deep breath on the beat before her mother said anything else.

“Alright,” her mousy voice arose. “No money then. I’ll just have to make do, of course.” 

“I’m sorry, doll,” the woman said, looking at her with sympathy, but soon turning to what Audrey thought would be admire the pretty flowers her mother kept at the vase nearby. Anything to not observe an uncomfortable situation. Without warning, though, her eyes fell on Audrey instead. “What about you, girl?” She retreated in a panic, putting her back against the wall. The woman continued: “You want a reading?”

“Audrey?” her mother’s voice arose, a little louder. “Audrey?” she called again in the silence. Audrey closed her eyes. "Are you there, honey?"

“Yes, mama.” She said and came out, after a slight pause. It was better this way, she thought. Trying to run back to her room was not the right choice. Besides, she wanted a reading, or whatever the woman called what she was doing. It was too good to run now.

“Have you been there long? Come here,” her mother said. She looked at the two, who in turn stared at her, her mother with her mouth slightly ajar and the woman as unbothered as ever. Upon closer inspection, Audrey could see she had wrinkles all over her face, and exaggerated eye make up. It suited her and she thought she looked pretty, even though she had a vague notion no one else would.

“You shouldn’t be awake at this time,” her mother said. “You have school tomorrow!”

“I know, mama.” What else could she say? Her mother sighed, but her expression turned from a frown to a softer one.

“Sit down, darling,” she said, pointing at the chair, the only other free one. “This is Sandra.”

“Hi, I’m Audrey,” she said to the woman, positioning herself in front of her. She, in return, smiled.

“I know who you are, honey. I held you in my arms when you were just a baby. You don’t remember Auntie Sandra, do you?” Audrey waved her head. Sandra shrugged. “Eh, we can’t all be winners. It was a long time ago.” She picked up the cards again. Audrey could see them up close now, and realized they were ripped at the edges, faded and yellowed. Auntie Sandra must have had that deck of cards for a long time. “You have grown a lot since the last time I saw you. You’re becoming quite the pretty woman too!” She punctuated the enthusiastic statement with a cough, and even through the spit and heaving, all Audrey could do was smile, even if just a little. All they called her at school was beanpole, freak, airhead, slut. She liked to be called pretty once in a while. 

“What do you want to know?” Audrey looked at her mother, who smiled at her encouragingly. Her eyes were indeed wet, even wetter than usual, as she had predicted from the corner.

Audrey turned her attention to auntie Sandra instead.

“I don’t know, I… I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, it’s easy. You” Auntie Sandra pointed a finger at her, “ask a question and I," she pointed at herself, “predict the future.” Audrey thought about the future. She did that quite a lot already, from her bed, imagining a time in which she’d be far away from where she lived, maybe in another country, another planet... Anywhere.

“I don’t know what to ask…” she said, her blue eyes huge, the possibilities endless. “There is just so much I want to know!”

Auntie Sandra dragged on her cigarette. She blew the smoke away from Audrey’s face, before continuing, which she thought was sweet. “You believe in guardian angels, honey?”

Audrey pondered that for a bit, but quickly nodded. Her mother told her they were real, at least, so she believed in them. “Alright then, lemme give you a get out of jail free card: I’ll ask what your guardian angels have to tell you, what they think you should know about your future. Is that alright?” Audrey smiled.

“Alright.” 

Auntie Sandra smiled back and her teeth were as yellowed as the cards. The little one now supported her head on her hands and looked down to see how the deck was shuffled and what cards came out first. She watched Sandra’s lips forming her question over and over again, ceaselessly as if in prayer, until four different cards went flying out one by one. The reader organized all of them, looking for a few long seconds before uttering the word:

“Interesting.” 

“What is it?” Audrey’s mother, decidedly more anxious than her, asked, holding her daughter's hand. Her blue beaded eyes had followed her old friend’s every movement. Auntie Sandra coughed on her sleeve.

“You got quite a few things here, Audrey,” she said at last.

“Good things?” her mother asked. Auntie Sandra shrugged; her movement was sluggish.

“Some of it, yes,” she said finally, and Audrey looked down. All she saw were drawings. "Others though,” Auntie Sandra pointed at a card with a tower in it and showed it to both of them, taking another drag before continuing. “Not so much.”

"You've always been so dramatic..." Audrey's mother began, with an eye roll, but her daughter cut her off with a question.

“What does that mean?” she asked, looking at the fire, both from the card and from the cigarette.

“Something is going to happen in your future, child that is not going to be all good. Now, I have no idea what it’s gonna be, they’re not telling me. You shouldn’t worry too much about it, though, you’re gonna come out on top, somehow.” She picked another card up and paired it with the previous one, laying both together. The card showed two people beside trees that were either on fire or full of leaves, with an angel watching over them. “The good news, which is always the best, is that love seems to be a big theme here.”

“Love?” Audrey asked, her voice barely leaving her throat.

“Yes, love. This card right here,” Auntie Sandra began, putting her cigarette in her mouth and tapping the paper with a long, red nail, "This means a choice in love. It can also indicate soulmates, though.” She dragged the cigarette, put it down, and picked another card up, this time with a family and ten glasses over a rainbow. “To me, it’s the latter. This card indicates a soulmate for you, dearie. You are going to be fine.”

“Look at how beautiful that meadow is, Audrey!" Her mother said, hugging her shoulders. "So full of life!”

Auntie Sandra handed the card to her, for her to be able to see it closely. Sure, it was a tad yellowed and sticky, with black spots, here and there, but she could still see the couple together, holding hands. There were kids too. She wondered about those. Kids. Two. A boy and a girl, a small house and a meadow...

“It’s not gonna be easy for you two,” Auntie Sandra said and showed her another one of the cards. Audrey put the previous one down. “This one, nine of wands, shows you two might have to be brave. Are you brave, Audrey?” She was taken aback.

“Well, I… I don’t know…”

“Well… Things will happen the way they need to,” Auntie Sandra affirmed, shuffling once more. Audrey looked at the card, she put down.

"So this is where I’ll end up regardless?” she asked, her soft voice nearly trembling in excitement. 

“It’s likely. All of this is only a possibility.” Audrey’s mother rolled her eyes.

“Sandra needs to say that, to be professional, but she is always right. I haven’t seen her being wrong once.”

“Yes doll, you have,” Auntie Sandra said, not looking at her and instead rearranging the cards. Audrey’s mother stopped smiling, looking down at the table. She had a wistful look.

“Well… We were both wrong.”

“Surely.”

“What is he like?” Audrey’s voice, still small, found herself asking. The women exchanged a look.

“Well, I usually don’t go around giving away two free questions to new customers,” the reader said, dragging her cigarette once more and finally putting it out. She turned around and took a beaten up, crumpled pack off her purse, pulling another cigarette out.

“Oh, Sandy, c’mon. It’s her first reading,” her mother plead. Audrey looked up at the woman in front of her and saw her brown eyes scrutinizing her. When she blew the smoke from her lips, she looked away, feeling a tad embarrassed. 

At the end, Auntie Sandra shrugged.

“I’ll pull three more cards,” she pointed the cigarette at Audrey. “That is all you get, though.”

“How do we say?” Her mother asked, looking at her smiling daughter.

“Thank you,” Audrey said. She looked on as Auntie Sandra shuffled. The movements were the same: She said Audrey’s question out loud once, and then continued on silently, with only her lips. At the end, she pulled out three more cards.

“Hm. Interesting fella.”

“Oh, really?” Audrey’s mom asked, moving forwards, “Good or bad?”

“Seems to be good. He’s really into something specific. A hobby of sorts. He hasn’t had an easy life, this one. Poor boy.”

“Oh, poor?” Audrey’s mother asked, with a tinge of disappointment. Audrey twisted her nose at that. She was also poor, wasn’t she? Sure, she dreamed of a big house, of a stable place, of being able to afford nice things like clothes and internal heating. But she never thought she’d get those anyhow, so it was alright if he was like her. At least they’d have that in common. 

Auntie Sandra’s next words took her out of her trance.

“Piss poor, excuse my language kid,” she pointed her cigarette at Audrey again, briefly, still looking at the cards.

“It’s alright,” Audrey said, approaching the table once more, looking down. “Is he nice ?”

“He’s nice, but he has made mistakes, plural,” she picks up the three cards at once to showcase, aligning them perfectly between two fingers. One of them is a man with a cup and a fish jumping out, the other is a man hanging from a tree. The last, and scariest of them all was The Devil, with two naked people chained to it. “You see here? These are the mistakes. This,” she tapped the other card, with the man holding a cup, “Is him. He’s sweeter than molasses, this one, just…” she tapped the card with the man hanging from a tree, “Very helpless, or seemingly helpless. At least he feels that way."

“Do you know what he looks like?” Audrey asked, looking at the card with the man, the cup and the fish. She didn’t want to focus on the hang ups and mistakes. We all make them, don’t we? She had made hers, she thought, even if she was so young, and she was likely to make more...

Auntie Sandra shrugged again.

“Hardly. Best I can tell you is that you shouldn’t dream of Cary Grant. Look for dark hair, maybe brown or black. That’s all I see.”

“Thank you, Sandra,” her mother said.

“Yes, thank you,” Audrey said too.

And that was that.

---------

The second time Audrey heard about him, four years had passed since the conversation with Auntie Sandra. She had no idea where time had gone, only that it had, and fast. It was probably flying on right now, passing her by, and she’d have no clue, just like before.

She had other things to concern herself with.

Presently, she was completely wet–her pretty, new dress was in shambles, and her newly bleached blonde hair felt like a steel sponge at the touch. The rain was pouring incessantly over the streets, and then some, hitting the windshields of the nearby parked cars. Anyone watching would think of her as a pitiful vision there, dejected, on the sidewalk. It was her date that was missing. He never showed up. 

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. They had been together for approximately two months at that point, and she could count the dates in which he showed up in one hand (two). Her mother advised her to not go out with him again and outright disliked the boy, but how could she not? He could be the man Auntie Sandra was talking about in the cards–after all, he had brown hair, and made more mistakes than anyone Audrey had met in her life! 

…Well, maybe that’s not all auntie Sandra said. He was supposed to be sweet after all, and this boy wasn’t sweet. Sure, he was, at first: They had Algebra together and he helped her with it, because she was lousy at math. He also defended her from all the people calling her a slut–mainly other boys that had professed undying love for her months prior, before they…

He had left her stranded in the pouring rain. Again. He’d no doubt call her in the morning, tell her she was beautiful and ask her to skip school to go on a ride with him, where they could make-out in the backseat. And she’d go, because she loved him and he could be the man from the reading. Right?

Audrey, looking around herself, knew she needed to make a decision. Skid Row was scary at night, but there was no ride for her, and no other way to get there. It was hopeless to try to get a taxi, even if she had the money. So, with limited options, she decided to walk home. Being in motion was better than being static.

Hugging herself to shield from the cold, Audrey promised she’d never leave the house without a jacket or an umbrella at least if there was no guarantee of a ride. A good lesson can be taken from everything. 

She looked down at her feet and counted the steps to ignore the voices coming towards her from the dark corners:

“Hey, girlie, all alone?”

“Hey baby, look at me!”

“Oh, baby, don’t do me like that!”

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing--"

“Are you alright girl?” She finally looked up, startled. A woman was looking back at her with a puzzled look from the steps of her house. She was big and her hair was wrapped in a scarf. Her brown eyes bore into her, wild and shocked at the fact she was alone at that time.

“Yes ma’am, thank you," Audrey said, faking a chipper tone. The woman wasn’t convinced.

“Aren’t you too young to be walking around on your own in this pouring rain?” She didn’t mention the fact she was herself in the pouring rain. Audrey found that odd, but thought it was better not to bring it up. 

“Yes, ma’am I am, but I’m getting right home!” The woman looked like she was going to say something else, but instead decided to stare fixedly beyond Audrey’s body. When she looked back, she saw what it was: A few men were approaching her and no doubt gave up and stepped away, when they saw she had company, back into the alley from whence they came.

"Go," the woman said. Audrey promptly resumed walking, as fast as her white heels allowed her, going over each cobblestone and trying not to trip. She was getting more dextrous at it, which was also something to be proud of. The plan now was to get to point B as fast as possible–and in that way avoid any more men.

Still, as if seized by something, Audrey stopped in her tracks. There, bathing her and half the Skid Row sidewalk, beyond the now faltering rain and night, was a bright yellow light. The building needed no identification. It was old, probably a century or so, and its decrepit brown, chipped walls were unmistakable:

She was at the steps of what people called the Skid Row home for children. It probably had a proper orphanage name once, but why beat around the bush? It was a home for those even more destitute than the destitute. Usually when Audrey went by it---or rather sprinted by it, guiltily thanking God for having a mother who loved her---the doors were closed. This time though they were open a sliver. Inside, the silhouette of a woman could be seen, talking to one of the kids. The conversation seemed to be going on for a while now, about a specific child, and despite herself, Audrey leaned in to listen.

“...Think he’s gonna be happy where he was sent to, Mrs. Jones?” Mrs. Jones was shuffling some papers and walking briskly.

“Our job is not to make sure you children are happy," she began, austere. "But to give you homes. He has a home now.” The child, no less than nine by the voice of it, pondered this.

“Yes, but that mister didn’t give me the best impression. He didn’t seem very fatherly, ma’am.”

“That mister only wanted someone to help him with the shop, so he got someone to help him with the shop. That is all. Have you taken your meds?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then go to bed, it’s late.”

When the woman got up and closed the doors, Audrey was nearly shaken awake with a jolt. She remembered where she was, looked around herself and sprinted past.

Poor child! A child who wasn’t supposed to be happy, just useful. What a miserable existence!

She didn't stop walking an inch until she was safe and sound inside of her own home.

----

When Audrey heard about him again, it was another four years later. She was working at a bar, which was bustling and loud, feeling very uncomfortable in the clothes her boss insisted the waitresses wore. It was a skimpy, sequined outfit, which she felt showed too much cleavage, but it got her tips and she needed tips: Her last boyfriend broke up with her and threw her out of his apartment where they had been living for the two years. He had essentially left her penniless again. 

It was for the best, she kept telling herself. He was not a very good man and her mother was sick. She couldn’t work as much anymore, so she moved in with her to help. And working as a waitress was good! Her hair was better than ever now that the other girls helped her know all the good products for hydrating bleached hair, and it was either this or stripping. Audrey didn’t think she was there yet, though her co-worker Sally was always trying to sell her on it.

“I mean, you just go up there and take your clothes off,” she'd say as they both looked at the stage, where a girl was dancing. She slowly unhooked her bra to whistles. “It’s totally fine. I mean, eventually a few jerks come around, but we have The Muscle for that, he takes care of ‘em.” The Muscle was a big, but sweet guy who always treated Audrey nicely. He lived with his boyfriend around the corner and Audrey never judged him for that, but they all kept it a secret from the boss, who might not like it very much

“Oh, I don’t think it’s for me," She'd eventually say. "Thank you, though, Sally.” Sally would shrug, big, wavy and luscious red hair falling over her, so similar to...

“I’m just saying that’s where the big bucks are, honey. The good money."

“Well, I just don’t feel very comfortable with that, that’s all.” She'd shrug again.

“Suit yourself, hon.” Sally would then go downstairs, to get ready. Audrey would watch her every time and then nod to herself, reassuringly. She was going to suit herself alright. She wasn’t gonna strip. Sure, she didn’t think it was a bad thing, considering everything, but she wasn’t going to do it. She didn’t need her mother to find out something like that about her and march to an early grave. Not graduating high school, skipping classes to be with boys, chain smoking behind the bleachers and coughing all over herself, having that many boyfriends… All of that was enough, she thought.

Working at bars at nights had to be the cherry on top of the cake. This itchy dress would have to be the end of it.

“Hey, honey,” a man said, approaching her with a drink in hand, snapping her out of her thoughts. She smiled. “Do you work here?”

“Oh yes, I do." She looked at him, analyzing. He was balding, but his hair was brown… Well, perhaps it was more blonde. He looked old---Auntie Sandra never mentioned anything about old, did she? She mentioned mistakes, and being sweet. Now, being at a bar like that at this time of night was definitely a mistake. Was he sweet?

“Nice cleavage.” No. He was not sweet. Audrey swallowed the urge to hit him over the head with the tray she was holding, and kept smiling, frozen in place.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Sure, give me a double vodka,” Audrey nodded and went to the barman immediately, squeezing herself in the crowded place, sinking her stomach in to go by some men who were definitely getting more out of this than she was.

"Danny?"

“Hey, Audrey, what’s up?”

“A double shot of vodka, please,” she said, looking at the man. He smiled at her, as usual.

“Coming right up!” Audrey watched as he prepared the drink and tried not to pay attention to the people around her. She would sometimes stop to watch the numbers or hear the conversations, but as it was it was just too much. She wanted out, but her shift had barely just started.

Taking the double vodka, she left.

That routine continued through the night. A man came up to her, was perhaps nice, perhaps not, ordered a drink, she gave it to him, rinse and repeat. She was glad to be used to wearing heels, because that was not a life for someone who wasn’t. At the end of the day, truthfully, the thing she liked the most about working at the bar (and there were always advantages everywhere) was when it was empty, or nearly so. The barman wiped the counter up and the other waitresses huddled together on the corner, exchanging things that happened to them that night, half acquired gossip they overheard, and cigarettes, counting tips. Audrey thought there was a nice, peaceful energy that surrounded the place then. The stage was empty and the strippers were all downstairs, powdering. They’d be up for a drink and she could talk to them about their new routines, their hair and make-up, which was always impeccable, as it should be, throughout their number. The girls were always nice, even if perhaps a bit beaten by life. But then again, so was she, right?

“Another one, sir?”

“Yes, sure, why not?” Audrey turned to the bar. There was still a man there, drinking. He was old, but not balding, so it wasn’t the same man from the beginning of the night. For some reason, Audrey decided to stop and sit by him, which she never did.

“Hello." When he looked at her, he flushed and nearly dropped his drink. “Oh, I'm so sorry!"

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, with a smile, before examining her further. He stopped at her face and squinted. “Say, I know you. You stop by the flower shop sometimes.”

“The flower shop? The one next to the corner store?”

“Yes, that one. I own it.” Audrey perked up.

“You’re mr. Mushnik?”

“The one and only!” Audrey was baffled. This was akin to meeting a celebrity.

Many times she had stopped to look at the flowers, however briefly, at mr. Mushnik’s window. She had noticed that, as time went by, the flower populace there became scarcer and scarcer, but she decided not to bring it up, for fear it was rude. Besides, they always had peonies and lilies, and Audrey adored those.

“Oh, I simply love your shop!” She said, turning her body to face the man now, all inhibitions forgotten. “It’s so lovely! When I was little, my mother used to buy flowers, and I’d play at making arrangements. Of course, that was before my dad left us…” Mr. Mushnik’s expression went darker. “Oh. I’m sorry, I...”

“Don’t worry about it, uh...” he trailed off, trying to gauge her name out.

“Oh, I’m Audrey.”

“Audrey! Say, what are you working in this joint for? No offense,” he added to the barman, who merely rolled his eyes. 

"Whatever, man..."

“It’s good money!" Audrey said, but then admitted, "well… Better than nothing.”

“And you’re not…” Mr. Mushnik trailed off once more, looking at the strippers who came up the stairs talking amongst each other. She vehemently waved her head.

“Oh no, Mr. Mushnik. Not me. Though…” Audrey glanced at the stage and then down at her clothes. She turned her body away, towards the bar, changing the subject, “I’ve never seen you here, before.”

“Oh, special occasion, or should have been,” he rolled his eyes, “My employee, Seymour, turned twenty-one these days, and I brought him here for his first drink. This was the only bar open,” he explained himself when Audrey’s expression became puzzled. He looked at his own glass. “Lousy idea. He threw up outside in the alley, and I had to take him home. So I came back here for a drink of my own.”

“Oh, that sounds dreadful!”

“It was! Kid can’t hold his liquor much like he can’t hold anything else!”

“Oh no, Mr. Mushnik,” Audrey retracted herself, her eyes wide with worry. “I meant Seymour. I hope he’s alright!”

“Oh, Seymour? He’s gonna be fine,” Mr. Mushnik said, waving his hand, before taking a sip of his drink. Audrey saw it was probably whiskey and wondered what Seymour had drunk. If he had never done it before and this man gave him straight whiskey, she thought it was no wonder that he had thrown up all of it in the alley. “You shouldn’t be working here, y’know?”

“What do you mean?” Audrey said, blinking in surprise.

“You’re a nice girl, I can tell,” she looked down, with a small smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that, mr. Mushnik…”

“Yes, you are. Say,” Mr. Mushnik downed the last of his drink and put the glass back on the counter, seamlessly pulling a few bucks from his wallet “If you need a job, come work for me. I’ll remember you, I bet.”

“Work? At the flower shop?” Audrey had thought of that, of course, many times. She never once thought it could be so, though, “What would I do?”

“You said you like to do arrangements, right?” She nodded. “Perfect! Seymour has no talent for arrangements, no taste. I’ve tried to teach him, but I’m just as hopeless. I see you got good taste,” she looked down once more and shrunk into herself. He didn't seem to notice it. “You can come work for me anytime, ditch this joint for good!”

“Well, I’ll think about it. Thank you Mr. Mushnik,” he smiled and began to leave, being halfway to the door when she yelled: “Oh, and tell poor Seymour to take care of himself!”

“Oh, Seymour!” Another eye roll “He’s gonna be the death of me one of these days!” 

And that was that.

----

When Audrey heard about him again, it was on the day of her mother’s funeral service, nearly two years later. It was a peaceful event, as she thought it should be. She was there, by the coffin, looking at her mother’s face and crying.

Few people showed up and her own father was nowhere to be found, as usual. He sent some money instead, when Audrey called him to let him know what had transpired. At least that was good. She could afford to pay for everything and then some, as he had sent some extra for her never to contact him again, so she could live and pay the bills without killing herself working for at least two more months.

Audrey caressed her mother's hair. She looked happier in death than ever. She wondered if she was going to look like that too when she passed, but then thought that maybe that wasn’t a nice train of thought to pursue. 

Drying her tears, Audrey made mention to leave, when a hoarse voice sounded behind her.

“Hey, kiddo." When she turned around, she froze in surprise. There, facing her with a cigarette in hand, was auntie Sandra and her pretty, bright, red hair. Audrey would have squealed, no doubt, if the situation was not so hopeless.

“Hello, auntie Sandra. I haven’t seen you in a while, are you well?”

“How could I be well in a time like this, kid?” She asked, expelling smoke from what seemed to be every pore of her body, “Sorry ‘bout your mom.” Audrey looked down, joining her hands.

“Thank you, auntie Sandra.” It felt odd to her to call the woman that, but she didn’t know her last name. In fact, she didn’t know anything about her. In all of the years that followed the woman’s consultation---nearly ten!---Audrey wanted to contact her, to ask more about the future. She even saved up some money for it, but her mother told her it wasn’t nice to meddle with these things too much and wouldn’t tell her where the woman lived. Other people in Skid Row offered a similar service, but Audrey never knew how to approach them, and it felt almost like a betrayal of sorts---Auntie Sandra existed, so why would she go after anyone else?

It was nearly a miracle she had found her way to her again. In fact, she was wondering how she even heard of her mother’s passing, considering she didn't call, when Auntie Sandra began talking again.

“I hope you’re doing well, kiddo,” she said, tossing her cigarette on the floor and stepping on it unceremoniously, before getting another one. She coughed. “Your mother was a good woman, one of the best I’ve ever met, and I have met many of them," she paused, scrutinizing Audrey the same way she had all those years ago. "You look like her.” She ended her statement lighting her cigarette.

“I do?” Audrey asked, looking at herself on a nearby window. She couldn't see the resemblance.

“It’s the eyes, kid, they're nice. And the voice too, I suppose. You look better with this hair, though,” Audrey lifted her hands to her head and smiled genuinely for the first time that day. It was short lived, a daughter shouldn’t be smiling at a mother’s funeral, but it was meaningful.

“Thank you, Auntie Sandra.”

After the service and the burial, Auntie Sandra insisted on giving Audrey a reading for free, for old time’s sake.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should accept it,” she said at first, feeling unwell about the ordeal. “I ought to pay you something.” Auntie Sandra waved her hand.

“Nonsense, your mother never paid me. I read to her since we were in high school, you know?”

“You knew my mother in high school?” Audrey asked, shocked.

“Yeah, before I quit for good.”

“Oh…” Audrey said, trailing off. Auntie Sandra looked at her intently.

"Say, don’t you wanna know more about that guy from all those years ago?”

“Guy?”

“Yeah, the one I told you about. I’m assuming you didn’t find him, did you?”

Audrey hadn’t. In fact, this was the first time in what seemed to her a long time, at least a year, that she even thought about him. With her mother’s illness aggravating and the medical bills – which were absurd – she was too busy to think about love. She figured Auntie Sandra’s warning was correct: It was just a possibility, not a fixed future. Even now she didn’t think about asking her whether or not she’d be married. All she wanted to know was this: “Will I ever leave Skid Row?”

Instead of saying any of that out loud, though, she contented herself with a more direct response:

“No, I haven’t.” Auntie Sandra tapped her cigarette with a long nail.

“Figures. I’ll meet you at your place, alright?” And without expecting an answer, she took off.

Audrey watched as she left – the tight dress, which some would say it’s inappropriate for her age, and the high heels clicking – wondering where the woman lived. How did she know she still lived at her mother’s place? It was for sale now, her landlord wanted to live in Europe, or something, so Audrey had her days numbered. Her mother said it was for the best, though. Rent was too expensive there, even for Skid Row.

With a small sigh, she decided to go and finish putting her mother’s things in boxes. Despite herself, she cried all the way there.

It was nine pm when Auntie Sandra showed up. She wondered if it had been a similar time back then, during her first consultation, and thought it was plausible. After all, she was supposed to be in bed by eight thirty. Little Audrey had always thought it was late into the night, maybe two am, but now, as an adult who had been out at such a late hour, she saw how that could easily be a fabrication. She smiled at the innocence of her youth and wondered where time had gone again.

“Kid? You gonna invite me in?”

“Oh, sure. I'm sorry Auntie Sandra,” Audrey stepped aside, cursing herself, and closed the door once the woman was in. 

“Place’s cleaner than ever, good for you,” Audrey smiled at the compliment and began lifting her hand to offer the woman a chair. That wasn’t necessary. Auntie Sandra was already sitting, with the cards in hand. “Sit down,” she said as if she owned the place, and wordless, Audrey did just that.

She lightly played with a fake pearl necklace she was wearing, wide eyed.

“Are you going to see into my future?”

“Yeah, kid. Is there anything specific you want to know?” Audrey opened her mouth and closed it again. Hmm...

“Well…” She began, at last. “I wanted to know about leaving Skid Row. For good.”

“I see,” Auntie Sandra said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll ask them about you leaving Skid Row then.” Before Audrey could ask who they were, if she meant her guardian angels again, the woman fell into her ceaseless prayer stage. When the cards fell on the table, she looked at the drawings and felt thirteen again. The deck was new – different, better. It was laminated and it didn’t have as many creases as before, so she could see it crystal clear, which made her happy. She wondered what thirteen-year-old Audrey would think of her if she could see her now, before Auntie Sandra took her back into the real world.

“Your fella is here again,” she said, tapping her cigarette with her finger over a leftover glass of water. “Front and center.”

“He is?” Audrey didn’t want to sound too excited, but found herself looking at the card she pointed to immediately: It was the same one from ten years ago, she knew, the man with the cup and the fish flying out. “Oh...”

“Anything the matter?” Audrey waved her head, putting her back against the chair.

“I haven’t been thinking about men much lately. Dating in Skid Row is a no go! I should have seen that from my parents’ relationship. Then again, I was never very bright.” Auntie Sandra waved her hand.

“You’re bright, kid, don’t say you ain’t. You’re seeing men for what they are after all! Lousy pigs…” She tempered with the cards again, distractedly, before taking another drag of the cigarette. “This one’s ok, though. He seems to be..." she squinted at the cards. "Sudden? Yeah, sudden.”

“Sudden?” Audrey repeated, confused.

“Yeah, sudden. You’re not gonna see him coming, and then BAM!” Auntie Sandra hit the table for effect, making Audrey jump back with a startled noise. “He’s right there with ya! You’re a fighter though,” she continued, eyeing the cards closely while Audrey removed a hand from her chest.

“I am?” she asked, recuperating from the scare. She looked down at the card that had a woman and eight swords, beside another with a woman and a lion. Audrey never thought of herself particularly as a fighter. If anything, she was the opposite: Weak willed and willing to follow. She looked down at her lap.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna see it until it’s right there, don’t even try,” Auntie Sandra continued, despite her thoughts. “You don’t think you deserve this fella.”

“Oh, so he’s not any of the ones I dated?”

“Fat chance, kid.” Audrey knew as much, but she needed to try. She didn’t believe someone as nice as that man sounded was going to suddenly appear in her life. It was too good to be true, so, retracing footsteps could be her better chance at love. “Don’t go chasing exes either, they’re off of your life for a reason.” Audrey’s head jolted up in time to catch Auntie Sandra’s cigarette hand lowering down onto the cup.

“You can read minds?” Her voice was even smaller than usual and Auntie Sandra smiled largely at that, before dismissing it with a hand wave.

“Nah kid, but I can read sweet girls like you, and they all go back to their exes, trust me.” She looked back down at the cards, while Audrey resigned herself to wait. “I get why they wanted to talk about this fella of yours.” She lifted one of the cards up to show her. “Remember this?” 

Audrey looked closer.

“Sure!” She said, fighting back the sudden urge to cry, while grabbing the card in hands “It’s the card my mother…” She paused to sniff, hoping it didn’t sound as loud in reality as it did in her ears, “That my mother said was so full of life.” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty green I guess,” she said, staring at Audrey intently “Your mother always wanted a garden, all that stuff.”

“I know…” Audrey murmured to herself, running her fingers through the surface of the card delicately, as if that movement alone could ruin the illusion.

“Well, it seems like you and your fella get that at the end.” For the second time in the night, Audrey’s head jolted up.

“We do?”

“Yep. The garden, the kids, the house. Now, it’s a small house, right there,” Audrey looked down when she pointed. “But it’s a house. If you wanted undying fortunes, you should have gotten the ten of pentacles. As it is, though, the ten of cups is good. Out of Skid Row.” 

Audrey put the card down.

“Now, here it is again, these two,” Audrey looked at the other cards indicated: A tower crumbling and a Devil with two people “I remember your reading well. I’ve done several since, but you were my youngest client,” she smiled at her, “These two came up as well, do you remember?”

Audrey waved her head. She only remembered the fish and the ten of cups. It was the nicer part of the reading, she figured. She focused on that.

“Well, you’re older now, so I can go into depth. There’s crumbling alright. Necessary. I don’t know if it's emotional or physical, but it’ll happen. Here,” she pointed at another card, “Nine of pentacles. There’s another woman here.”

“Another woman?” 

“Yeah, kiddo. Another woman. She’s greedy, wants everything for herself and nothing for the both of you. She’s your obstacle out of here, it seems.”

“Oh, well, if there’s another woman, then maybe it’s best not to get involved...” Audrey knew better than to steal another woman’s man. She had seen the fights at the bars and even her own neighborhood. Many times she had woken up startled with a woman yelling and the loud noise of a car window being smashed.

“I don’t think it’s like that, but it could be, come to think of it,” Auntie Sandra looked closer. “I’m not sure. Still, going beyond this energy here is not gonna be easy. I don’t have to sugarcoat things for you anymore, you’re not a kid. It’s gonna be the hardest thing your man does in his life, to let go of this woman, and he might not be able to do it in time.  She promises a lot and delivers too little. Poor fella.” She took a deep breath before continuing “Either way, the future changes all the time. Right now, it seems you two are gonna make it, though. Besides, you’re gonna start working again soon. It’s not in the question I asked, but it seems to be important. You lost your job recently?”

“Oh yes, at the bar. I stayed back to take care of mama.”

“Well, consider yourself lucky. An opportunity presents itself! Close to home too,” Auntie Sandra showed the Queen of Pentacles “But not this one. You’re moving.” 

“Yes, I am.” Audrey said, looking around the apartment she grew up in. “I don’t know where to go yet.” Auntie Sandra began putting the cards away, her cigarette dangling from her lips.

“My sister owns an apartment next to that corner store, you know it? Maybe you could rent it.” Audrey’s eyes lit up.

“The corner store?” She asked, newly excited “Next to Mr. Mushnik’s flower shop?” 

“Yeah, you know the spot.”

“Yeah…” Audrey said, trailing off. “I sure do!"

----

In the morning after moving, Audrey finally mustered up the courage to walk up to Mr. Mushnik’s flower shop, fixing her hair and dress all the way. It had been a while since she had stopped by the windows to look at the peonies and lilies, which were still there, although even scarcer than before, so the nervous feeling pooling up at her stomach was predictable, she thought.

When she walked in, the bell chimed to indicate a customer, and mr. Mushnik was quick in his step out of the back.

She smiled at him.

“Hello, mr. Mushnik." He looked as if he saw a mirage at first, before opening his arms expansively.

“Audrey! Audrey, right?” Audrey nodded. “Got out of that joint? Came to work for me?” he looked around, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, I’m afraid it’s not much, but it’s honest, and we still need a girl to make arrangements. Is that a deal?” She was flabbergasted.

“Sure!” she said, stepping further into the store. It was the first time she ever went in, and she couldn't believe it wouldn't be the last. Mr. Mushnik continued:

“Great! Can you start right away?” Audrey stared at him, wide eyed.

“Sure!”

“Great, fantastic news. I gotta tell Seymour.” Mr. Mushnik went to the door at the left of the shop. She had entirely forgotten about the man that Mr. Mushnik told her he employed, the same one who had thrown up in the alley.

Audrey had never met a man who couldn’t hold his liquor before. She hadn’t been with too many men who weren’t at least a little drunk, so she was eager to know what that Seymour looked like.

“Seymour!” Mr. Mushnik yelled and Audrey could hear a noise of not one, but several things breaking at the lower levels. When she made a mention to go and check it out, Mr. Mushnik stuck an arm out, preventing her. “Don’t worry, he does this everyday," he rolled his eyes. "Seymour!” 

Audrey could hear a faint “I’ll be up in a minute!” before identifying the sound of rushed footsteps coming upstairs. Her heart was racing in her chest and she swallowed a lump. She thought she was gonna faint until Seymour finally opened the door, emerging from within.

“Seymour, this is Audrey. She’ll be working for us, doing arrangements.” Mr. Mushnik said, pointing from one to the other. “Audrey, this is Seymour.”

Audrey raised her hand in a wave and both stared at each other as if they had never seen another human before, or as if they were completely alone in the world. Forgetting himself, Seymour fixed his glasses and almost dropped another pot.

"Oh!" Audrey said and bent over to help him. Crisis averted, they raised their bodies together, looking into each other's eyes.

“Hi,” Audrey’s shy voice was the first to breach the gap. “Pleased to meet you, Seymour.”

“Li… Likewise,” Seymour said, stuttering a little.

“Great, great, introductions done.” Mr Mushnik clapped his hands. “Seymour, go check the flower pots, I need you to spray pesticide on that snake plant.”

“On it!” Seymour said, finally looking at something that wasn’t Audrey, diligently lowering his head to go and tend to the plant. She followed him with her eyes all the way to the back.

“Seymour will show you the flower arrangement table next, won’t you Seymour?” 

“Yes, sir!” Seymour yelled without looking back. Mr. Mushnik glanced at Audrey and pointed in the direction of his employee’s voice.

“Go on,” he said, before putting his coat on. “I need to go out for a little errand. I trust you kids are gonna be fine until I come back.”

“Yes, mr. Mushnik!” Audrey guaranteed. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine."

“I wouldn’t worry about you. It’s the other one that’s the problem,” Audrey looked down, not meeting Mr. Mushnik’s eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Once he was gone, she raised her head to look at the window to the back, which was still open. She could see Seymour tending to the plant in there, looking at it intently. It was much in the same fashion Auntie Sandra looked at her, she supposed, but exceedingly more lovingly. She observed him at work for a second, before realizing it was also part of her job to tend to plants.

She made her way to the back, high heels on wood, and didn't notice that every single hair on his body flew up at the sound of her.

When she finally showed up at the door, he nearly dropped everything again.

“Oh!" She exclaimed, rushing towards the table.

“I'm fine, thank you, Audrey.” Realizing they were close again, but this time alone and unbothered, she took this opportunity to observe Seymour better.

His glasses were a tad crooked once more–which he fixed again upon noticing her glance–and he had no fashion sense, but not in a bad way. It was more in a quirky, cute way. He also had blue eyes, which looked into hers, even if for just a second, making her blush.

Looking away, she decided to tend to the flowers.

“You’re good at your job.” It was a statement of a fact. She didn’t need to know him for too long to understand this. All those plants looked magnificently green.

“Me?” Seymour asked, dismissing the notion in a second, with a shrug. “I just like plants.” 

“Oh, me too! I used to stare at the flowers on the window every time I walked by...” Seymour’s eyes flashed in recognition.

“Hey, I think I’ve seen you before!” he pondered for a second, but only a second. “You used to stare at the peonies, a... and the lilies!” Audrey looked at him.

“Yes!" Seymour smiled at her for the first time and Audrey caught herself mirroring it wider. She could tell he didn’t smile much by the way he tried to hide his face from her, and once he was looking at the plants again, Audrey observed him once more. The flowers were completely forgotten.

Seymour had brown hair. He was sort of helpless. He definitely was no… Who did she say at the time? James Stewart? No... Cary Grant? Yes... But he was sweet and charming in his own way. And he was poor, by the looks of it. Could he...?

No. Seymour seemed far too sweet. Far too good. She watched him spraying the plants in an almost devoted manner, trying not to trip and drop any of them on the floor. 

Audrey finally devoted herself to her own work. It was hopeless to want anything further in that direction, she could already tell. What would a guy like Seymour even want with a former waitress, a girl who never had any prospects in life, who skips from bad boyfriend to bad boyfriend? It just simply couldn’t be between them. 

She’d have to look for her brown haired, sudden man, elsewhere.

[dawnexpanse-central]

Infrequently Asked Questions

What is the Dawn Expanse, and why does it exist?

The Dawn Expanse is an aroaceagender worldbuilding project created by @roguetelepaths.

It can best be described as an act of radical imagination— if we only ever see ourselves as outsiders in an allonormative, amatonormative, binary world, then we have no choice but to accept our marginalization. If we build worlds with ourselves at the center, we can become confident enough to center our own needs and aims in this world.

Queer worldbuilding projects of all kinds are important and often neglected tools of empowerment, and this blog would love to connect with others running similar projects.

What do you mean, "aroaceagender worldbuilding project"?

The Dawn Expanse can be loosely compared to Aristasia (though without the reactionary and imperialistic overtones of that project) — a femme lesbian subculture based around a fantasy country where femininity and relationships between women were considered not just default, but a fundamental law of nature. I should note that while this subculture has been made up of people with varying and often abhorrently conservative political positions, it no longer really exists and those I've seen talk the most about it these days are mostly left-leaning trans women. There is no real-world subculture based around the Dawn Expanse, or at least, there isn't one yet, however, the basic principle is the same. The Dawn Expanse is a world in which everyone is aroaceagender. More precisely, it's a world in which gender, sexuality, and romance never had a reason to exist, and therefore do not. The project aims both to provide comfort to those who have the specific experience I'm representing here and to explore the unique social structures of such a world.

So do you hate gender/sex/romance, or people for whom those things are important?

If this blog was devoted to cat videos, would you ask me if I hated dogs?

I'm not aro, ace, and/or agender. Can I read this?

I'm not a cop.

I'm not aro, ace, and/or agender. Will I enjoy this?

I don't know. Will you?

Are you some kind of aroaceagender separatist?

No. The number of different experiences under each of those labels, the incredibly small subcategory of people who fit into all three, and the even smaller fraction of that group that experiences their identities in the same way I do would make an honest to goodness real-world "aroaceagender separatist" position both a laughable one to take and an impossible one to execute.

I am, however, an aroaceagender person who prioritizes my relationships with those who either share my experience or are willing to show that they respect and affirm it.

If the Dawn Expanse doesn't have 🌶️🌶️ spicy romance 🌶️🌶️, what does it have?

Literally everything else? Idk man, is your world so narrow that you think a piece of art has to have that to be interesting? You've got BookTok, 99% of AO3, and many, many sites specifically devoted to written erotica if that's what you're after. Let the rest of us have one thing.

But to answer the question in more detail, the tone of the Dawn Expanse aims to be tonally similar to animated series such as Steven Universe, The Owl House, or She-Ra and the Princesses of Power in its approach to balancing interpersonal conflicts with higher stakes world events. Thematically, it aims to explore community bonds, sense of place or lack thereof, and the false dichotomy of order and entropy.

Can I write my own stories in the Dawn Expanse setting?

Yes! I'll be writing a more detailed post about what to consider when doing this at some point.

Can I run a tabletop campaign in the Dawn Expanse setting?

Absolutely. In fact, one of my eventual goals for this project is a system-agnostic RPG setting guide. (Though, knowing me, it'll probably be biased towards the Cypher System, my favorite do-it-all RPG ruleset.)

You're really mean in some of the replies to these imaginary questions. Why?

I'm tired. That's why. The good news is that if you actually take the time to talk to me in good faith, I'm not nearly this much of an asshole. So the rudeness is probably not directed at you.

[snarkythewoecrow]

20 Questions for fic Writers!

thanks for the tag @mammameesh @underwater-ninja-13 💙

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

184

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,391,678

3. What fandoms do you write for?

9-1-1 (mostly buddie), MCU, dabbled in Torchwood, Sherlock, HP, and Old Guard, oh and supernatural for a while too, though I don't have a lot of my supernatural and Torchwood moved to ao3, something I've been working on since like 2012 (there aren't that many more to move, I am just amazing at procrastinating)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Overall, these are my highest: Unexpected Finds (MCU, irondad)- 5 206 If I Could Do It All Over, I'd Find You Sooner (MCU, stuckony)- 2 593 emergencies only (MCU, irondad)- 2 154 between wanting and needing (MCU, stuckony)- 2 087 abuse at your hands, broken at your feet (MCU, irondad)- 1 960 But since I'm mostly writing 9-1-1, I'm going to include my top two from there, cuz I can: I choose you, Pikachu (or the ways two idiots finally say you’re mine) - 1 595 sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) - 1 302

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try really hard to respond, but sometimes I get behind, and there are times when I'm low on spoons and I put them off, and that doesn't mean I don't love them all, seriously, people who comment are so generous and sweet, but it does mean that sometimes they will get a random reply from me two years later lol

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

honestly, not super sure, cuz I can't remember them all off the top of my head, but I guess the one I wrote for irondad, where peter was using hard drugs and it didn't end with a promise of things turning out good, hugs didn't fix things in that one

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

no idea? they are mostly all happy to some degree

8. Do you get hate on fics?

eh, not often, but sometimes, more in the mcu than other fandoms

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, and mostly gay, many kinks, from vanilla to wtf are you even writing type things, but i do seem to lean toward bdsm dynamic in smut, daddy kink often, and a/b/o (tho i really love writing non-traditional dynamic, a lot of omega/omega and alpha/alpha)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

yes, and probably sam wilson/harry potter, honestly, I really still adore that one, it worked, I swearm, harry was older and fucked up with ptsd, and sam was awesome, as usual

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of? well, i mean, i've once found them posted on small fan sites serving other countries and tbh, it didn't bother me too much, like it wasn't great, but like, hey, life's too short and they obvs liked them, and they did give me credit, sorta

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah, a handful over the years, maybe 5 on ao3? and i know i gave others permisson over the years, but they never linked back so idk

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah, totally, done it a bunch and had fun

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

steve/tony, then stucky is a close second, like they are the true standbys, I'll always love them, but I have a armada of other ships that also serve me well

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

we don't talk about bruno, dude

16. What are your writing strengths?

description maybe, or writing emotional shit? and like with dialogue, I'm either a god of it or a pathetic feral creature that has never spoken aloud

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

depending on the day, the same as what is written in prior answer

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

honestly, i try not to do it anymore, cuz I don't like making it harder for readers in anyway to consume, so unless I can keep it short and clear enough that you can still gather what they are saying without knowing the language, then I leave it out. I will try hard to find other ways, and i'm not super into translations posted after the text, looks clunky, and not super into translations at the end, but yeah, to each their own

19. First fandom you wrote for?

dudes, i dont know when i ate last, no idea, like maybe some MASH or like Highlander in notebook as a kid? probably my first shared was interview with the vampire, resulting in much anxiety as a teen

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm picking from more recent fics, and I kinda love this one atm: sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it)

tagging @buckybeardreams @limetimo @painted-doe @psychiccatpanda and anyone else who wants to do it!

Blank copy under cut for you to use 💙

20 Questions for fic Writers!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

[lily-alphonse]

-`✮´- Zelink Week Progress -`✮´-

June 28th 2024 Update

Just thought I'd update you guys since I know at least some of you are following me because of my Zelink longfic on AO3. There are a bunch of shorter fics incoming in July for Zelink Week (July 15 to 21) so get hyped :D

Under the Stars: Started Writing!

I'm very excited to be changing it up and doing Skyward Sword for this one. Tooth-rotting levels of fluff

Fading: Idea Phase

Brain empty.

No but like I have a couple ideas but maybe I just won’t post for this one idk.

Blooming: COMPLETE

I just finished writing this one yesterday so it still needs editing, but I'm so glad to be done with one. Its slightly longer than I would have hoped at about 5k words but it’s very good.

Look forward to a melancholy journey to TOTK Zelink’s happy ending with this one

Enchantment: Started Writing!

RENFAIRE AU MY BELOVED!!

I can’t wait to write this one I’ve been sitting on this idea since I watched Fall Guy. Everyone will be able to read it regardless of what games you’ve played. It’s gonna be SICK bro I can’t wait. This is going to be a longer fic so I will actually only post chapter 1 for Zelink week, and then maybe weekly updates from there.

Link in a leather jacket riding a motorcycle>>>>>>>

Spellbound: Idea Phase

Right now I'm leaning towards something to do with puppet Zelda. Basic? Perhaps. But I do love her as a concept and haven't written anything about her yet.

Sealed Fate: Idea Phase

This one I might use for angst. Maybe Link dies or something. Idk

Reunion: Idea Phase

More TOTK Zelink, this time I'm thinking just quick snapshots of them crossing paths. I have a skeleton of an idea but no vibes yet I think I will discover them as I write

You guys are about to eat so good istg

I maaaay have to skip an upload on the longfic to be able to get all this done since my birthday is also smack in the middle of Zelink week but we shall see lol

[slut4thebroken]

“I’m not scared of you” “You should be.”

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader Summary | reader is just being a brat lmao idk Warnings | sexual content, 18+, knife play, fear kink, choking, bondage Words | 1k Notes | so this was a draft that I didn't finish but I read it again recently and it lowkey slaps lol so I decided to just post what I have and if enough people ask then I'll write more lol. Ao3 link | <3 Masterlist

"Technically this was not how you intended for this night to go. Being a brat wasn't your original plan but... you can't resist making him frustrated... making him snap. It usually ends well for you. Or bad depending on how you look at it. But alas here you are.

"Kneel." Bucky's arms were crossed and his legs apart, trying to stand in an intimidating way. You're not going to tell him it's working though.

"Why should I do that?" You mirrored his stance.

"Because I told you to. You don't want me to tell you again." You rolled your eyes and his fists clenched.

"No." You smirked at him and his jaw clenched this time. Bucky took a slow step toward you, eyes never leaving yours. When he took another step your confidence faltered. On his third step you started moving backwards.

Have his muscles gotten bigger? Cause it looks like it. Every once in a while you remember that Bucky could probably kill you with just his pinky, not that he would, his mind is free and even if it wasn't everyone knows he could never harm you. But as someone with a fear kink, it's nice to think about in times like this.

Your back hit the wall and you dropped your arms to your sides, still trying to maintain eye contact. He wasn't touching you yet but you could feel his body heat and his breath fanning across your face.

He showed no emotion as he watched you. Eventually you broke eye contact and looked at his chest. You swallowed then willed yourself to look up again.

"What was that?" He had a small smirk now and he moved his right hand up to the wall beside your head.

"I-" you took a deep breath, trying to look confident, "I said no." His smirk widened and he looked at your lips, then down to your chest, his height allowing him to see down your shirt. Your chest is heaving and you know he knows you're scared. He hummed quietly then brought his eyes back up to yours.

His metal hand was on your neck, the cold pressure surprising you and making you gasp. Bucky used his grip on the sides of your throat to push your head into the wall.

"I told you you don't want me to tell you again. Are you sure this is how you want to play this, doll?" You held back a whimper and tried to calm your breathing.

"I'm not scared of you."

Bucky leaned closer and you started to close your eyes, expecting a kiss, but he stopped. Lips just barely touching yours.

"You should be." He whispered. He yanked your head forward and you let out a startled cry. Bucky walked across the room, practically dragging you by your throat, and threw you onto the bed like a rag doll- well your nickname is doll isn't it?...

You scrambled to the head of the bed, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but he seemed unfazed. He sighed as he watched you.

"Baby... the night started so well, you were being such a good girl. And now..." He looked up and down your body "you're acting like a fucking brat." He started walking to the dresser and opened the drawer.

"That's okay. I like breaking you. And by the time we're done, I will have turned you into a sloppy, desperate, begging mess." You saw him take out rope, a ball gag and something else that he hid in the rope so you couldn't see it.

"I'd like to see you try." You said, with a confidence that suprised even you. Bucky looked at you, smirk still on his stupid beautiful face, and started walking to the bed.

"Don't worry, doll. It shouldn't be too hard, you break so easily for me." His voice was condescending and you hated how that made you even wetter. "Lay down." You watched as he stood next to the bed and put everything down onto it.

"N-no." Your confidence is very quickly disappearing. His smirk was still going strong as he kneeled on the bed.

"Thought so." He sighed. Bucky grabbed your wrist and you protested, trying to get him to let go. However he took your other arm and held it to your side, then kneeled over your body to hold you still as he tied your wrist to the bed. He quickly moved onto the other one, then to your ankles.

When you were fully bound he kneeled on the bed between your legs. You started squirming, testing the stength of the knots... which unsurprisingly was very strong.

Bucky reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled out a knife. You knew he carried it on him almost everywhere he goes, mostly out of habit, so that wasn't what made you gasp. Instead it was when he brought the knife up to the top of your dress and cut it straight down the middle.

"That was expensive!" You whined. He shrugged and cut the shoulder areas so that he could take the dress completely off of you. Once he threw that to the floor he moved the knife to your bra.

"Wait-" He cut that the same way he cut your dress. "Bucky, wait-" you started as he moved to your underwear. He paused and looked at you.

"Let me ask you something, doll. Which one of us is currently holding a knife?"

"...You." You said quietly.

"And which one of us is currently tied to the bed?" You rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

"That's what I thought. Now it doesn't seem like you're in any position to be making demands right, doll?"

"Whatever." You pouted. He quickly grabbed your face and turned your head to look at him. His grip hurt your cheeks and the cold metal made you shiver.

"Baby..." he clicked his tongue, "that doesn't sound like any way to talk to someone who has you at knife point does it?"

"I'm not scared of you." You repeated. He smirked again and moved the knife to your neck.

"You should be." He whispered.

[snootlestheangel]

Tagged by @stuffireadandenjoy

how many works do you have on ao3? 14, mostly COD

what's your total ao3 word count? 145,478

What fandoms do you write for? Call of Duty, (used to be) Overwatch, and then technically Left4Dead

top 5 fics by kudos? It Means 'I Love You', Silence is Golden But Consequences Are Red, His Wounded Cry, Artemis to His Apollo, and finally And All These Broken Parts (what was my major Overwatch fic)

do you respond to comments? Yes, usually just with a couple heart emojis just cause

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? None of my fics are completed unless they were one-shots, so I'm going with the one I know will have the angstiest ending. Which is Of Earthly Things. It's a happy ending but boy am I gonna put them through the ringer first. Break For Your Heart isn't looking too good though, in all honesty. Haven't completely settled on an ending yet so for now we'll stick with Of Earthly Things

what's the fic with the happiest ending? That's probably gonna be all of them but a tie between To Love, To Let Go and His Wounded Cry

do you get hate on fics? I've only gotten like 2 comments that were less than acceptable, but other than that no

do you write smut? Technically no. But am I planning a smut heavy fic? Yes. Why? Idk I'm crazy

craziest crossover? Call of Duty and Left4Dead

have you ever had a fic stolen? God I hope not

have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge

have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope. It'd be fun probably but no I haven't

all-time favorite ship? Genji x Mercy

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Unending Devotion probably. At the rate I'm going though it seems like none of them

what are your writing strengths? Imagery, conveying emotion

What are your writing weaknesses? Focus is the big one, but imo balancing dialogue and action

thoughts on dialogue in another language? When I write it, I like specifying a change in the font or something to indicate another language, but I don't mind reading it. There are always good translators

first fandom you wrote in? These fics thankfully never made it to ao3 but Supernatural

favorite fic you've written? I used to always say Silence is Golden, but now I'm leaning really far towards Of Earthly Things

Idk who to tag so tag you're it!

[hypn0sssss]

@clueless-shapeshifter I am so sorry Tumblr hates me and does NOT want me to save asks to my drafts for some reason and always posts them before I'm ready idk why!

--------

Words: 1,107

Fandom: Ensemble Stars!

Pairing: Mayoi Ayase/Tatsumi Kazehaya

@badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Take Me Instead

TW: Mayoi-typical self deprecation/self dehumanizing behavior

OKAY before you get started it is very debatable whether this actually fits the prompt or not! I am so sorry, I genuinely could NOT think of ideas without having to come up with an establish some kind of au! If this does not fit the prompt, I could try again if wanted! I am sincerely sorry!

You can also read this on AO3!

“I think we did rather well today.” Tatsumi speaks up, zipping his bag shut.

-----

Mayoi can still feel his heart beating rapidly. The show ended about 5 minutes ago, but he can still feel the energy of the crowd as they pack up and leave. Along with the other members of Alkaloid, he was getting changed and collecting his stuff.

“I think so too!” Hiiro cheers. Mayoi and Aira nod in agreement.

“Do you guys still want to go to that restaurant afterwards?” Aira asks, wiping off his makeup.

“Of course.” Tatsumi replies.

“We wouldn't want to waste our reservation, fufu~” Mayoi smiles. He doesn't deserve to be in a group with such pure people, but it does feel nice to have calm moments like these.

After he finishes packing up, he looks over at Aira, who seems to be frantically searching his bag.

“Aira-san, what's wrong?” Mayoi asks, leaning over to see the inside of his junior's bag.

After a few more moments of searching, Aira speaks up. “I can't find the makeup palette that Narukami-senpai let me borrow! I promise I'd give it back to her after the show! I remember putting it back in here after I used it!”

Hiiro walked over to Aira. “Do you need help finding it, Aira?”

The blond looks up at Hiiro. “Yes please.”

“How about this,” Tatsumi starts. “Me and Mayoi-san will make our way to the restaurant, so that we don't lose those reservations, and Hiiro-san can help Aira-san find the makeup palette. Then, you two can meet us there.”

Hiiro smiles up at Tatsumi. “That works, Tatsumi-senpai! We'll see you there!”

After a moment, the two older Alkaloid members head out of the backstage area, walking towards the new restaurant that opened recently.

“Fufu~ You did very well tonight, Tatsumi-san.” Mayoi breaks the silence. Tatsumi smiles at Mayoi, grabbing his hand.

“Thank you, Mayoi-san. You did as well.”

Mayoi’s smile was slightly shaky, but overall grateful. A bug like him doesn't deserve to be praised by such a holy person like Tatsumi. But… Tatsumi seems so genuine, that Mayoi can't find it in himself to deny it.

The two continue to walk silently, still hand in hand. All that could be heard were the sounds of the early evening. It calms down any adrenaline Mayoi may have still had from the show.

It was when they were about one block away from the restaurant that they heard an excited squeal. Then, a group of 2 girls approaches them.

“Oh my God!! Mayoi Ayase and Tatsumi Kazehaya!!” The first one cheers. “We're such big fans!! We saw the show today, it was amazing!!”

The second one, without any warning, slings her arm over Mayoi's shoulders. Mayoi flinches slightly, but the person doesn't budge. “I’m such a big fan, Mayoi-san! You've been my favorite since Alkaloid debuted!”

He squirms slightly under the fan’s arm, but she doesn't notice. Tatsumi does, and tries to pull Mayoi away from her. It doesn't succeed, and Mayoi notices the first fan look down at the two idols’ conjoined hands.

“Nao, look! I told you they had something going on!”

Now with hands that are starting to shake, Mayoi pulls his hand away from Tatsumi’s. Tatsumi opens his mouth to speak, but the second fan, Nao, beats him to it.

“Oh my god!! I told you, Minako!!” She leans closer to Mayoi, her arm still wrapped around his shoulders. The first girl, Minako, also approaches Mayoi.

“So long has it been?”

“Have you guys kissed?”

“Do you ever plan to tell the public?”

“I've been shipping you two since the beginning!”

Mayoi can feel his hands start to shake even more. The girls are too close, they're asking too many questions, they're so loud. All Mayoi wants to do is to yell at them, tell them to stop.

But that would be rude, would it not? What if the girls told people about it? Wouldn't that bring negative attention to Alkaloid?

So he just stands these, frozen under Nao's arm and the girls’ questions. His breathing shudders slightly as he continues to shake.

“Excuse me, you two.” Tatsumi speaks up. Mayoi can feel the fan’s arm be taken off his shoulder. “Mayoi-san is obviously uncomfortable. Please back up.”

Despite him staring at his feet, Mayoi can hear the fans back up.

“If you have any questions, you can take them up with me instead.”

“Really?” Minako asks, looking over at Tatsumi.

“Yes, I can.” He answers. He looks over at Mayoi, mouthing something at him.

‘Start going to the restaurant. I'll meet you there.’

Mayoi nods, scurrying off. The rest of the walk to the restaurant goes by in a blur, and he soon finds himself in front of the restaurant. He sits on one of the benches outside of the restaurant. He can't find it in himself to go in.

As always, he was totally useless. He couldn't say a single word to those fans. He had to make Tatsumi step in. He shouldn't have had to do that, but Mayoi was just so worthless, so helpless, that he couldn't do a thing.

After a moment (it could have been just a couple minutes, or half an hour, Mayoi couldn't tell), he hears footsteps approaching him. He looks up to see Tatsumi looking at him, brows furrowed in concern.

“...Mayoi-san. Are you okay?”

Mayoi doesn't know how to answer. He's already scum for making Tatsumi worry about him this much, he can't make it worse.

Tatsumi sits down on the bench next to Mayoi, placing his hands on top of Mayoi's.

“I didn't tell them anything, if that helps. I asked them to reconsider their behavior and refused to answer any of their questions about us.”

“...Thank you Tatsumi-san.”

The two sit in silence for a moment before Mayoi takes his hands away from Tatsumi’s, covering his face.

“I'm sorry! I was so useless! I'm sorry you have to be with someone so pathetic that you had to stand up for me! I can't do anythiiing!”

“Mayoi-san.” Tatsumi pulls Mayoi into a hug, rubbing his back. “You were overwhelmed, and those fans overstepped boundaries. You don't need to apologize.”

Mayoi doesn't deserve this comfort. He knows that. But the affection feels so nice. He leans into the touch.

“Would you like to go to the dorms? Those girls already made us late to the reservation, so I could call Aira and tell them to go straight home with Hiiro.”

“...Are you sure?”

Tatsumi lets go of the hug and stands up. He gently helps Mayoi stand up.

“I am. Let's go home.”