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thesilmarillionblog · 4 months ago

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COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious.

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.”

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.”

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner.

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.”

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle.

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying.

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble."

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it."

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance.

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds.

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands.

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you."

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage.

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt."

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though.

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair.

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.”

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties.

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried.

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment.

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together.

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled.

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly.

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?”

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow.

“You already heard me.”

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly.

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response.

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree.

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made.

Ben mumbled, ��I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest.

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that.

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks.

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you.

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip.

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down.

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you.

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen.

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body.

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm.

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue.

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more.

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits.

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes.

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed.

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it.

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?”

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

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torialefay · 6 months ago

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Take It Like A Real Man

sub!chan x dom!afab!reader 🔞

✨ synopsis: Chris has been a consistent dom throughout your entire relationship, which is why you are very surprised when he asks for one of your biggest sexual fantasies to come true.

✨ request from: @chrizzztopherbang

✨ warnings: degradation, offensive language, anal play, pegging, probably some more?

You’d been toying with Chan for the past several weeks. With the way that he made you feel, how could you not?

You loved your boyfriend, don’t get me wrong. And sex with him was amazing every time. But maybe you just wanted to… spice things up a bit?

Chan was the most dominant guy you’d ever been with in the bedroom. Choking you, spanking you, and pounding the absolute shit out of you almost every day. You felt so small underneath him. Like a toy to him. But lately… you thought about what it would be like for him to be a toy for you.

He’d been looking too good recently. Walking around in his slutty little tank tops and his sweatpants. His jaw was looking sharper than usual and you could tell his biceps were getting bigger day by day. You’d almost shudder from excitement every time he came up to hug you from behind, feeling the outline of his bulge graze you ever so slightly, though you knew that wasn’t his intention. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly one thing, but there was something (everything) about him that was driving you insane.

So you decided to… test the waters. You began to initiate the make-outs more. You decided you’d be the one to climb on top of him more. The first to grind into him and take charge. To push him down and hold him there while you rode him on top. And the more you got comfortable, you felt like you could be rougher too, lightly choking him and whispering dirty things to him.

And by his reaction, you could tell that he fucking loved it. However, by the end of the night, he always ended up taking over. He’d still fuck you into oblivion with your face in the pillow until you couldn’t breathe. No matter what you did to him, he was a dom after all.

One day after work, a bright sign caught your attention. You’d driven past it a million times without a second thought. But today, something about it felt different. The sign for a sex shop.

You figured it couldn’t hurt to go in and look around. Maybe buy a few things that looked fun. You strolled through each section, getting some essentials like lube and sex toy cleaner. But as you walked past, the bondage and sub sections caught your eye. One thing specifically. A strap on harness with a vibrator built in for your clit.

You couldn’t help but be curious. And let’s be real, Chan would never want that… Would he? He’d always ended up giving into his dom tendencies no matter how much you offered up.

‘It would be stupid to buy it,’ you said to yourself, pulling your arm back in. ‘Just a waste of money.’

After you’d stepped only a few feet away, you were already stopped by another product you’d only ever seen online. A cock ring.

You took the box into your hands, reading it over and flipping it around to get a good look. It didn’t look too intimidating. Nothing too scary.

‘Now this… maybe this I could work with,’ you grinned.

You balanced the box in your hands along with your other products. You turned on your heels to exit the section and head towards the register before you could be tempted by anything else that you saw. Everything that Chan wouldn’t want.

You walked only a few feet though before you stopped. Your mind couldn’t kick it out. The strap on. How hot Chan would look under you. If he was able to take it all and give in to you. How fucking beautiful he would look moaning for you and getting so overstimulated that he couldn’t stand it.

Fogging your head, you decided to just buy the damn thing. ‘So what if I lose some money?’ you thought. A girl can dream.

A few months had gone by with a pretty similar routine. You’d often take the lead at the beginning, and about halfway through, Chan would finish it off. That is, IF Chan didn’t initiate it first and set you up from the beginning.

But today felt a bit different.

Chris had just gotten home looking (surprise) fucking delicious. It had been a late night studio session, so you could see the tiredness in his eyes. Which is why you were startled when he seemed to actually be in a great mood.

“Hey baby!” he said, coming up to squeeze you in a hug on the couch and nuzzling his head against your cheek. So cute. So different from his tendencies in the bedroom.

“Well someone’s happy!” you giggled back. “Good day today?”

He looked at you with excited eyes. “We finally got done with a track we’d been stuck on for weeks. I think it turned out so good. This is really one of the best songs I think we’ve made,” he smiled.

You gave him a tight squeeze. “That’s great baby. I’m so proud of you.” You leaned in to place a soft peck to his nose.

He blushed a bit as he said thank you.

On instinct, you scooted yourself to the side of the couch a bit. “Wanna lay your head down?” you asked, patting your lap.

You knew this was Chan’s favorite. Laying his head on you and letting you brush your fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp as you went. It was the most amazing way for him to destress. But at this moment, when he got it and he wasn’t even stressed? Well that was an even higher rush for him.

He grinned ear to ear as he moved to lie on his back and place his head perfectly in the middle of your lap, giving you access to him right underneath you.

You continued to talk about both of your days. The best and the worst parts. Apparently the boys were annoying all day, so having the good session tonight was exactly what Chan needed. You talked to him about the song, with him teasing you and telling you he wasn’t gonna show you yet.

“You know that’s not fair!” you protested, trying to pout. “Come on pleaseeeee.”

“No, I’m not gonna show you,” he teased again, shaking his head cutely.

You began to run your hands more softly and slower through his hair, hoping it would coerce him a bit. Let him know that you would take your time with him.

“It’s okay,” you smirked. “You’re gonna give in anyways.” Did you sound like a know-it-all? Yes. But did you sound like a cute know-it-all? Also yes.

Chris smiled. “Not this time. I’m putting my foot down.” He innocently raised one leg on the couch just to push it down sharply as if he were fake stomping.

“Oh really?” you started, dragging your voice down. You began to slowly glide one hand from his head, down his neck, and then to comfortably rub across his pecs, massaging them at your own pace. “I’ll do anything,” you plead with big eyes, trying your best to seduce him into it.

Chan put a look on his face to act like he was puzzled. “Aaanything?”

“Say the word-“ you leaned down to press a short kiss to his mouth, “and it’s yours.”

You took this moment to rub down further, down his abs, tracing lines along the way, until you got just above his waistband. You teased around a bit, dragging your finger along as if contemplating what to do with it.

You waited patiently as Chan wiggled underneath you. Observing his reactions, you realized how blushed he was.

“Is this what you want?” you asked softly, moving a few fingers past the band of his boxers. You didn’t want to touch him- yet. Just wanted to watch him and see what he would do.

“Mhmm,” he huffed out, repositioning his head so that he could see better.

After massaging around him and around his thighs, you brought your hand up to your mouth. You spit in it as best you could before lowering it back to it’s original position.

This time, you snaked your hand straight down to where his dick was. Almost completely hard already without you having to touch it. You decided you’d be bold.

“Oh, is this what you like baby? You like this?” you smiled menacingly as you rubbed up and down, covering his cock with the saliva.

Chan was embarrassed. You could tell. Was it because he didn’t like it but didn’t have the heart to tell you? Or was it because he was enjoying this more than he thought he should… you being in charge of him. Talking to him like this.

From how hard his dick was underneath your hand, you were willing to bet it was the second one.

You let yourself stroke a little bit harder, making sure to swirl the tip of your thumb around his opening. He hissed slightly at the feeling.

“What is it baby? Feels too good? You can’t even talk to me?” You teased.

Chan just wiggled in response, bucking up into your hand for more contact.

You let him go on for a few seconds before abruptly pulling your hand away. Now was the time to try.

“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give you anything baby,” you smiled, knowing how flustered he was.

Chan relaxed his head as he laid it back, closing his eyes and letting himself catch his breath. After a few deep breaths, he gave a hesitant sigh. You watched as he began to fidget with his fingers. Knobby and lacing around each other, they were almost shaking. He looked… mad?

With one final suck of air, he sat himself up. You didn’t quite know how to react.

“I’m sorry,” you said impulsively as he turned his body toward yours. You were a bit frantic trying to fix things. “I didn’t mean to push you into doing something you don’t like. I know you’d rather be in control, and I like that too. Let’s go back to that, okay?”

“No, it’s not-“ Chan cleared his throat. “It’s not that.” He cracked his knuckles while looking down. “I need to talk to you about something first… I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for a while, but I guess I’ve just been nervous about what you’ll say and how you’ll react and what you’ll think of me, and just, I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it a big deal for nothing. I just don’t want you to think differently of me if you’re not into it and maybe if it’s weird to you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything. And I don’t want you to think it’s not enough for me if we don’t do it because I do love the way that we are now. Things have been so great and I don’t want any of this to mess us up-“

“Babe, you’re rambling,” you stared at him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

He held his breath for a moment before continuing. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I pinky promise.” You reached your hand to rest on top of his, intertwining your pinky finger underneath his own.

He let his pinky grip to it tightly. “Well ever since you’ve been getting, you know, more involved in starting things with me, I have really enjoyed it. But you know it’s kind of just instinct for me to take over. I can’t really help it, you know. Just when you look so good, it gets too hard for me to stop myself…” He waited for a moment before trying to start again. “But I’ve been seeing stuff… Like porn, I mean," he cleared his throat sheepishly. "And that combined with the way you’ve been acting lately, I think- I think I’d like to try something. But it’s kind of weird and nothing we’ve ever talked about, so you can absolutely say no. I mean, I may have even ended up hating it, so maybe it’s best we didn’t even have this conversation and we just forget about it so-“.

“Christopher! Please for the love of God just tell me. What do you want to try?” You’d spoken louder than you’d meant to.

Fidgeting with his hands again, he finally admitted it. “I want to let you be more dominant. And I want you to be in control the whole time.”

“That’s it? You’re embarrassed about that?” you almost cackled over how ridiculous it was for him to make such a big deal about that. It wasn’t like you weren’t slowly working your way there.

“Well, no. I also wanted to try… maybe, I don't know... pegging? Like if you were pegging me. If it’s weird, we don’t have to, but I’ve been th-“ he got cut off by the sound of you.

“Oh my gosh!!!” you sprung up from your seat and quickly made your way to the closet. There, at the back, you’d had your secret stash hidden away for months. You grabbed the bag filled with lube, the strap on, and the cock ring. You squealed as you ran back into the living room where your boyfriend was waiting with a confused face. He squinted his eyes at you, waiting for you to go on.

“Okay SO,” you started, voice full of pep, “a little while back, I was just shopping around and, well, I saw these and thought maybe one day, I’d be able to convince you to let us try.” You smiled as you pulled out both the strap on and the cock ring at the same time, letting the lube in the bag hit the ground.

Chris started laughing, not able to believe his eyes. “Hahaha, no wayyy,” he carried his raised voice.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you teased, swaying your hips as you walked up closer to him. As you took a seat on the couch, you snaked your arms around his neck. You gave him a few quick pecks on his lips before smirking and running one hand down his torso as slowly as you could, letting him enjoy it. You leaned in beside his ear, letting hot breath hit it for a moment. “We need to move this to the bedroom. But you’re gonna be good and listen to me this time, okay?”

You felt Chan shiver and get shy all of a sudden. “Okay,” a tiny grin appeared as he crossed his hands in his lap.

You stood first, holding your hand out for him to grab onto. You quickly bent to retrieve your lube and new toys. You gently pulled Chan’s hand along to follow as you made your way to the bedroom. As you walked, you were silently thankful that you’d already taken everything out of the box to clean it.

You gingerly tossed everything onto the bed before turning to wrap your arms around Chan’s neck again. As you found his lips, you used your position as an advantage to pull his neck down and his face closer to yours.

Chan scared to put his hands on you, you pulled back, smiling, feeling like you’d won already. “You can touch me now, Channie.”

He blushed before resting his veiny hands on your waist. This time, you were sure you would attach your lips to his permanently. As you kissed, you bit and tugged and pulled as Chan gave into you. He let out little moans as you kept pulling him in closer, devouring every inch of his plump lips. You ravaged until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

With a dramatic gasp, rushing air into your tight lungs, you pulled back. You stared into his face. It was so nervous yet excited. It was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen. You smirked as you watched him groveling.

“Clothes off. Now.” you instructed.

You watched as Chan immediately was humbled. Without hesitation, he stripped himself of his top, revealing his rough abs, which he seemed to be shy about all of a sudden. He covered himself by crossing his arms slightly as he pulled his pants down and stepped out of them.

You stood, running your eyes up and down his exposed body, cocking one brow. You knew he felt so exposed like this.

“Underwear?” you ordered more than asked.

He looked so small as he hunched over to remove them, revealing his already semi-hard cock.

You smiled, obviously staring at his dick. “You’re that excited already?”

He gulped, not knowing what to say. Standing meekly, hoping you wouldn’t make him continue with words.

“It’s cute you’re this riled up for me baby,” you said, walking in closer and quickly grabbing his dick in your hands. You began to stroke it quickly, dry, with no warning.

He hissed in response, contorting his face.

“I think we could do better though, huh? Pull my clothes off of me,” you demanded.

He hurriedly reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. He hooked around for the bra straps next, running his arms around your back as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to disappoint you so soon.

You swatted at his arms. “Did I say you could see my tits? So fucking greedy… Take off my shirt and pants ONLY. I don’t want to have to say it again.”

If the instantaneous stiffening of Chan’s dick was any indication of how much he was enjoying this, then he must have been on goddamn cloud nine.

He whimpered slightly, moving his hands back slowly and down to the area just below your waist. He swiftly undid the buttons on your jeans and lowered himself to be able to remove them from you fully.

“Stay,” you instructed.

You couldn’t have loved this sight more. Your boyfriend bent for you, looking up with doe eyes. Right at the level of your pussy. What could be more perfect?

You placed a hand in his hair, harshly pushing his head forward until it was almost touching you.

“Lick. Now. Like you fucking mean it.” Your voice came out bitchier than you thought possible. But that was the point.

Chan hurriedly leaned in to run his tongue along the outside of your clothed pussy, starting from bottom to top. The slight sensation felt almost too good after all of the pent up tension you’d been feeling. You watched the way his tongue moved slowly, up and down. If he wasn’t in this position, you’d think he was teasing you. But with your hand resting on the back of his head, you knew you’d have full control. And he knew that too.

Chan moved his tongue suddenly, intently, to the side of your pussy, toying at the fabric of your underwear. It was like he was trying to move it out of the way with the force of his tongue only.

“Keep going,” you instructed, releasing a light moan. “Lick underneath them and keep your eyes up here.”

Chris was quick to follow your instructions, swiftly locking his eyes into yours. You smiled at him- encouragement that he was doing so well for you.

You shivered as he planted his cheek into the side of you pussy, letting his tongue run along underneath the material of the the underwear.

“Taste that baby. You’re gonna taste all of me. Take it in your mouth,” you directed.

You observed the look on his face as he bit the underwear up and into his mouth, inhaling deeply. His eyes shut for a moment, taking in the experience. It looked utterly blissful for him.

“Eyes! I’m not going to fucking tell you again!” you yelled, yanking his head back so that he’d look up at you.

Big, shiny eyes flashed onto yours. Apologetic, but loving. After all of this. He loved this. He relished in this. Nothing could beat this.

“Back to to my pussy. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” you ordered him, keeping one hand on his hair as the other reached down to move your underwear out of the way.

Chan did as instructed, which earned him a pleased smile and a ramming of his head into your pussy. You quickly guided his head up and down, soaking his nose and tongue in your juices. The combination hit just the right spot.

You froze as you felt the euphoric combination. His nose hitting you clit with his tongue poked perfectly into your entrance.

“Right there, holy shit,” you moaned, fucking his face in this position. You held his head steady as you bounced yourself up and down on him. The feeling was almost indescribable.

You felt him trying to pull back slightly, needing to search for air.

“You don’t breathe unless I tell you to fucking breathe!” you shouted, pushing his face in harder.

You watched him sink down slightly, his body creeping lower to the floor. You used this to your advanced, moving your hips with a quickening speed across his face.

Going and going and going until you almost couldn’t anymore.

Once you were almost satisfied, you bunched Chan’s hair in your hand and yanked him off of you. His eyes scrunched closed as he heaved in heavily, gasping and panting heavily.

“Finally put that big fucking nose to good use, huh? You liked that, didn’t you? Burying your nose so deep in my fucking cunt? You’re such a dirty boy.”

You used the hand that was once holding your underwear to rest on his chin, spreading your thumb to hold one side of his face and the rest of your fingers on the other. You squeezed his cheeks hard, making his lips puff out as you lowered yourself to get closer to his level.

You leaned in to plant a kiss to his waiting lips. You slid your hand down to release his face and instead take hold around his neck. Your other hand laced around to take residence in the hair at the back of his head.

Now, you kissed, him deeply, throwing yourself into him and making him take it all. He threw his tongue into your mouth, letting out soft mewls as you bit back.

You were so lost in the kiss that your head began to spin, moving his head in every direction to gain access to new parts of his mouth.

You began to stand, clutching Chan’s neck to pull him up with you, never disconnecting his lips from yours. The smell of saliva and your juices took over as you each buried yourselves in. Locking into each other as you were both fully erect.

You each tangled your hands around each other as you stood for a long few moments, enjoying the passion between the two of you before you started toying with him once again.

Once the air was rushing out of your head, you pulled yourself back harshly. You scanned over his beautiful face, drenched in liquid. His lips were red and puffy, his eyes clouded over, but chipper as if awaiting what was to come next.

‘This fucking boy,’ you thought.

You quickly spit onto your hand as you hastened your hand down to grab Chan’s dick again. Jerking quickly, you could tell by his face that it was completely overstimulating all too quickly. But you couldn’t help it. He just looked too cute.

He whimpered as you kept going, looking like he would lose his breath at any moment. The sounds just turned you on more.

“You can’t even handle this? Can’t handle getting your dick touched without fucking blowing? You better not fucking cum Christopher,” you demanded.

Chan’s face contorted, puffing out his cheeks and throwing his head back to stifle any moans that would have come out. His face was visibly red. His abs began to twitch as you stroked him even harder. Faster. You knew he wouldn’t be able to last anymore. His dick peaked, as hard as you’d ever felt it. A new sensation had been unlocked. A few more pumps and he’d be over.

As suddenly as you started, you jerked your hand back and off of him. Below, you watched in awe as his dick was still quivering from the arousal it had been getting. Up and down, back and forth, slightly as he let out muffled whines, eyes almost tearing up.

You chuckled softly, making sure it was loud enough so that he could hear it. “You really are a subby baby, aren’t you?” you smiled deviously.

Resting a hand on his beating chest, you walked him backward until his knees undid over the bed and he was propelled down.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the brightly-colored lube bottle next to his head and squeezed it out into your hand. It was cold, which you figured would be perfect for the occasion.

You perched yourself on your knees next to Chan, reaching your hands down to begin massaging the lube onto him. He winced at the chill of your touch, but soon started to warm up as you massaged it into him. He let his eyes flutter closed as he began taking deep breaths, enjoying this small stent of peace.

“No falling asleep now,” you teased. “Wake up and put this on,” you demanded, throwing the cock ring at him.

Before he could react, the plastic-y material hit him in the chest, bouncing down to land on his torso. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down with wide eyes and his mouth gaped.

You watched as he swallowed harshly, looking as if he was trying to find the right words. He took the toy and rotated it around in one hand, searching for an answer.

“Uhmm, I don’t-“ he started, looking defeated. “I don’t think I know how…”

“Awww, little baby can’t figure it out?” you taunted, leaning down. “Can’t wrap his pretty little brain around it? Poor thing.” You quickly jerked it from his hand.

“Watch,” you raised your voice at him, lifting your eyebrows as if to threaten him. You held the ring in your hands, coating it in the left-over, slippery lube. Pressing it down and onto the tip of his dick, it was already a tight fit, wrapping around him snuggly. You admired the way the blood rushed through, leaving the tip of him totally engorged. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?” you giggled as he let out a breath he’d been holding in, writhing and looking pitiful beneath you.

“But you can do more,” you said airily as you began working the ring down his length. He let out small moans and grunts along the way until you made it to the base of his shaft.

It was the perfect size. Just tight enough to keep him wiggling, but not too tight to stop him from experiencing the heightened sensations.

“Mmm, isn’t that better?” You smiled. “Good boy,” you praised, lowering your face to plant a slow kiss on his tip. “For now,” you jolted up. “Now flip over. I want you on your hands and knees,” you instructed.

Chan offered an overt gulp before complying with your request.

Once he’d gotten into position, you could tell he was a bit nervous. This was the most vulnerable he’d ever been with you. And a part of you questioned if he would back out now. Would he make it this far before he realized he couldn’t go through with it?

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, realizing that those were your insecurities in this, not his. And you’d make for fucking sure that he wouldn’t want to stop this.

You grasped his hips and pulled them back, arching his back slightly to get his ass higher up. Stealthily, you held onto each side, rubbing harshly before planting short smacks, leaving behind the sound of sharp skin.

A smile eased across your face as you heard Chan moan the slightest bit. Like he was trying to conceal it.

“What was that?” You smirked, landing a larger, rougher slap to one side of his ass.

His face scrunched up before sucking in sharply.

“I didn’t hear you baby. What is it? Do you need more? You need more before I can even fucking hear you?!” Your words were forceful now. Challenging.

You violently shoved his hips down more so his ass was even more prominent. One after another, you began to plant harsh slaps until his cheeks were visibly more and more red. Loud moans now escaped his lips, growing in intensity with each smack.

Chan started panting heavily, letting out a small cry that only turned you on more.

“Fucking slut,” you muttered. “Like getting spanked by your own girlfriend? Like looking like a sloppy mess for me? Not even able to shut your fucking mouth and take it like a real man?” you taunted him. Hearing Chan’s cries getting louder and louder was all the confirmation you needed.

“Because you’re not, are you?” you chuckled, pulling your hands from him. You quickly pulled the strap on towards you to shimmy inside. You clicked the button to start the vibrator as you secured yourself in place.

“No, you’re not a real man…” you continued as you placed more lube into your hand. You tried to steady yourself as the new buzzing over your clit settled in, knocking you back the slightest bit. After regaining your footing, you went on.

“You’re just a tiny little hole who wants to be used, huh? Is that right?” You rubbed the lube along the length of the dildo strapped onto you. “You just wanna be used like the fucking slut you are?”

With that, you used one hand to place another solid smack over the redness that had already been formed, while using one lubed finger to push slightly into Chan’s asshole.

An auditory moan was heard as the wind was knocked out of him, feeling a sensation he’d never known was possible. You let him adjust slightly before pulling out and pushing back in.

Chan relaxed his arms and let his face hit the mattress as you continued with your finger in him, growing faster and faster by the second.

Tiny whines of pleasure worked their way out of Chan’s throat with every stroke. He began to move his hips along with the motion, throwing his ass backward so you could reach deeper inside him.

“Ahh fuck,” he mumbled as you kept going.

“Goddamn, already cursing for me? That’s not a good sign,” you tsked. “We’re just getting started,” you smiled. Deep panting was all you received in response.

“But the baby wants more, huh? Poor little baby,” you mocked. “You’re gonna get what you get then. And you better take it all without fucking complaining.”

Suddenly, you pulled out and brought a second finger to his hole, inserting them much quicker than you’d done with the first.

Underneath you, Chan gripped the bedsheets with his fists, settling with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled back, holding in any noise he possibly could.

“Ahhh, good boy. See, it isn’t that hard, is it?” you grinned again before beginning to ram your fingers into him quicker. You worked your way up, as fast as you could before curving your fingers into him.

With that, Chan couldn’t help himself. He let out the loudest, most ungodly moan you’d ever heard. Pure ecstasy in every last ounce of breath he put out. You could tell that he was doing all he could to not scream from the pleasure.

His reaction mixed with the tingly feeling that had washed over your clit by this point, got you to the level that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.

After giving him a few more pumps with curved fingers, you pulled out, running your hand along the shaft of the dildo again. He whimpered at the loss of contact, earning him another huge smack, essentially telling him to keep quiet.

“You still can’t shut the fuck up, can you? You like being degraded like this. I never knew my boyfriend was such a fucking whore.” Another slap.

“Now,” you continued, “we’re both gonna sit here until you start acting better and ask nicely for me to put this dick inside of you. And ask like you fucking mean it.”

Chan stilled for a moment, breathing heavily as if his brain was fogged over and he couldn’t comprehend what he needed to do. Slowly, he arched his back further, pushing his ass to the perfect angle. You both sat in silence for a few moments before soft words began to slur from Chan’s mouth.

“Please… will you fuck me?” he whispered timidly, his face the brightest shade of red.

“Maybe if you’d say it loud enough that I could FUCKING hear you!” you yelled, lining yourself up to him. You impatiently let the tip of the dildo circle around his outline. You brought your hands to his waist, grabbing onto him with the most force you could muster, taking him off guard.

Chan yelped loudly at the contact. “Please baby… PLEASE will you fuck me?” he cried out in desperation.

His pleas left you with a soft smile. “See, that wasn’t too hard now was it?” you excessively teased before pulling his waist back to force him down onto the dildo.

As quickly as it filled him, you felt it too. The insane increase in the vibration of the vibrator now rubbing up to the perfect spot on your clit. You let out a harsh moan at the feeling, enjoying this more than you’d thought possible.

“Ahh fuck baby,” you spat out, pulling your hips back before snapping them back in. The pressure was too good for you to handle.

All you could hear was Chris cursing under his breath and letting out the most guttural, obscene moans you’d ever heard. Like a symphony that had just died and been resurrected, unknown that life could take form like this.

He panted heavily, writhing in the sheets as you began to plow into him, faster and faster. Your hands gripped onto him so tightly that you were sure he’d have bruises. But that’s what you wanted. You needed him to slap into you as hard as possible. You needed to feel all of it.

“I’m not gonna-“ Chan tried to get out before pausing to let out a loud whine. “Fuck,” he cried, “I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admitted lowly, ashamed that he was already so close to being on the edge.

“Yes you are,” you smacked his ass again as you thrust in. You wrapped your arms swiftly around his waist to pull his torso upright. The dildo was still resting deep inside of him as his body came up, his back pressing into your chest. You squeezed him again, making sure he was pulled taunt to you before snaking a hand up to his throat.

“You are gonna last longer because I’m fucking telling you to. Is that clear? You’re not done until I cum. Stupid fucking whore,” you threatened, directly into his ear.

Your hips snapped up, not giving him a chance to answer. He could only let out the sweetest moan you’d ever heard.

As you began humping into him, you felt that prominent tingly feeling at your core. You knew if you kept this up, your orgasm would come sooner than you’d hoped. But you couldn’t stop pumping into him. It felt too fucking good. Your clit throbbed and your knees were about to give in, but nothing could hold you back now.

You grabbed Chan’s throat harder, squeezing it until you knew he’d have trouble getting steady breaths in and out. You used this as your vantage point to steady him as your other hand folded around his waist and down to his dick. You grabbed it into your hand quickly, not wasting any time.

He hissed as you began to quickly jerk him up and down while pounding into him, trying to focus on his breathing before giving in entirely.

You felt him clench down onto the dildo, putting more pressure onto it and the vibrator attached. You felt your inner thighs begin to twitch. Your own breathing began to falter out. You knew you needed to make the most of these last few moments.

“You are such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” you whispered into his ear, licking it softly before turning his head toward you by his throat.

You connected your mouth to his, saliva going everywhere as you devoured him until the last second. Biting at him until you could taste blood. Choking him until he was gasping under you for air. Blood rushing to your head from the adrenaline and the sight of your boyfriend totally and completely at your mercy. Your bitch. Anything you wanted him to be.

You rammed his body down by his throat to push him into you harder, fucking into him with everything you had. Your hand was fast on his dick, working him up to the point that tears began to stream down his face.

“This is what you wanted,” you smiled, biting down on his shoulder. “Wanted to cry your fucking heart out to how good I could use you... Ahhh fuck,” you growled, the stimulation about to send you over.

“My sweet little baby Channie,” you whispered into his ear ever so lightly, placing one more kiss to it. So soft it was almost a tickle. You could taste the salty liquid that had spilled out of his eyes and had run across his face. Tears still coming down while your hand stifled his cries and moans.

“I know you want to cum,” you breathed out, fucking him with your hips and hand as fast as possible. “Cum for me baby. Let it all out,” you purred.

Suddenly, without your permission, your own body jolted, hitting your high. You began to convulse uncontrollably, sending shocks throughout your very core, leaving Chan with sporadic, trembling thrusts and shaky hands.

“Fuck Channie,” you cried, trying to ride out your own high, but almost passing out in the process. “Cum right fucking now. Right fucking now!” you yelled, not knowing if you’d be able to survive the overstimulation of fucking him any longer.

You let go of his throat long enough for him to take a deep gasp for air and cry out as he too began to shake around you. His limbs began to flail as his body gave out, screaming and crying as he lost control. Cum shot out of him with more force than it ever had, leaving his head spinning and mind completely numb.

Losing hold of him, he collapsed out of your arms, spasming the same as you as he tried to regain his sense of being.

You took a deep breath before falling next to him on the bed, heaving heavily until your breath came back to you. Chan was doing the same while covering his face with his hands, embarrassed again all of a sudden.

You gave him a moment to collect himself before leaning over to kiss his forehead and remove his hands. You placed a soft kiss to his nose while you held his hands in yours.

“How was it baby?” you smiled as you whispered.

“It was…” he contemplated finding the right word. “Insane,” he laughed, finally coming back to his normal self.

“Hopefully insane in a good way?” you cocked a brow toward him.

“Yes, in a good way.” He squeezed your hand before turning his head slightly to look up toward the ceiling, not making eye contact with you. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself.

“You don’t really think I’m a ‘fucking slut’, do you?” he kept giggling, teasing the way you’d talked to him.

“Oh I do. I think you’re my fucking slut,” you lightheartedly winked. You brought your lips back to his as he smiled into the kiss, shaking his head back and forth.

“What am I gonna do with you now?” he laughed as he pulled back and brought you into his chest.

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months ago

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Author's Note: My period started, I had some feelings, wrote some established relationship fluff/smut; enjoy!

Content Warnings: Rhys uses his daemati powers for a quickie (because he absolutely WOULD and you cannot change my mind on that)

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It was a mistake to go back to work this soon. My whole body aches, the newly accepted mating bond pulling on my bones like it’s a living thing crawling around beneath my skin. I can’t escape the searing heat of it, not even with the office windows thrown open, the dark lace curtains billowing in the soft autumn breeze. I should be cold enough to wear the sweater I’d stolen off the armchair this morning, but it sits draped over my desk chair instead.

Rhys had been called back to the Hewn City two weeks before we were scheduled to return from our retreat. Or as he was so affectionately calling it “The Mating Bond Sex Romp of the Century”. We were supposed to have a whole month to ease into newly mated bliss; the extra time was supposed to help with the chafing and general irritation that would come when we inevitably had to separate and return to civilization. And of course Keir had gone and fucked that up for us. We’d flown in last night, and Rhys was gone before dawn this morning. The empty Townhouse was going to drive me insane and training with Cass and Az would have driven Rhys insane, so my only solution was to come into work and handle two weeks worth of paperwork. There’s certainly enough to keep me occupied for the day, except I can’t think straight! The words in front of me blur, the meaning of them nonsensical. I shouldn’t be here! I should be tangled up with my mate; the only thought in my head should be how much deeper I can take him.

I lean back in my chair, palms pressing into my eyes with a groan of frustration. Stupid fucking Kier! The only sounds I should be hearing right now are my mate’s as I run my lips over his chest, tracing tattoo and muscle and that dark little patch of hair that leads me down…

“Well isn’t this a pretty little thought to walk into.” Even his mental voice is enough to make the bond shiver in delight and I throw down my shields with abandon to let him in further.

“Come here and I’ll make it more than a thought,” I return. We are beyond pretense and formality now. I want-need-him. My body feels like it might burst into flame if his hands are not roving every inch of my skin. I knew the bond would be intense, but not to this degree. I could live or die with just his touch alone.

Night chilled shadows swirl around our shared mental ground like a cat brushing up against its owner. The gesture alone makes me slump down into the seat and sigh. “All worked up, aren’t we?” He purrs, but his voice is strained.

“I’ll rip Keir’s throat out for this. We were supposed to have more time.” I snarl.

The longer my shields are down, the better my mental view of him becomes, until it looks as if the two of us are standing on an adamant bridge, surrounded by endless starlight. Like this he has free reign to all of me, mind and soul; a brush of his fingers and he can walk into any memory he wants, a flick of his wrist and he can take complete control of my body and I’d be powerless to stop him. We are equals and he makes sure I never forget it, but like this, when there is no damper on his power, when he doesn’t have to hide behind a courtly mask, all his power untampered and wild--there are few things I love more. I love him like this. I love being able to surrender to the power of him, yield my own and let him take control so that I do not have to think beyond the pleasure he’s capable of ringing out of my body.

He reaches out and brushes his fingers over my cheek and I could scream under the heat that flares through my physical body. It’s not quite the touch I want, but it’s enough to make my blood sing.

“I know, love, and I’m sorry.”

I turn my head and press my lips into his palm, catching his wrist so I can keep him right where I need him. “Please,” I whisper, because even here in this space I can’t shake the desperation that claws its way up my throat. “Just for a few minutes. I need you.”

A growl sounds in the back of his throat as he leans in and crashes his lips against mine. It’s a flurry of tongue and teeth, his free hand threading into my hair and I drop his wrist in favor of tossing an arm around his neck. There are too many clothes between us, even here, and I claw unabashedly at his shirt until he gets the hint and magics it away.

There is no feeling like the warmth of his skin against mine. Only when we’re chest to chest, my own top disappearing, does the fire in my veins finally turn from painful to pleasurable. I am warm everywhere he touches, no longer consumed by this insistent ache. I sigh contentedly as I nip at his lower lip.

“Better?” He asks as he slides an arm beneath my ass and lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. My back hits the handrails of our shared mental bridge, the cold stone biting into my flushed skin.

“A little,” I say as I press soft kisses along his mouth and chin.

He rocks his hips against my still clothed center, the friction so heady it makes me toss my head back and moan, giving him the perfect access to nip and suck at my throat. “I only have a couple minutes, we’ll have to make this quick.”

I don’t want quick. I want that slow rhythm we’d found that first night in the cabin, his hips slowly rocking into mine, his cock dragging through my dripping folds, my nails clawing at his shoulders as he drew moan after moan out of me, until I had begged him to finish inside me. I want the lazy roll of his hips as he holds me against the mattress, taking his time, teasingly nipping at my throat as he tells me how pretty I look around his cock, as he drags out every stroke and thrust until there is not a single thought in my head but him. But the burning beneath my skin is returning, and I can feel the pull of his duties in the back of his mind as if it’s calling to me instead. This is all the time we have right now, I will have to take it.

The rest of our clothes disappear in a rush and he slides right into me, all the way down to the hilt and I let myself scream into the endless darkness of our bond.

He presses his nose into my neck, where it meets my shoulder as he lets me adjust. Not that I truly need to here, but the gentleness of the motion, how concerned he always is for my well being, makes me want him even more. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.”

I pull him in for another searing kiss, my hands tangling in the silky strands of his hair. “Make it up to me a couple times?”

He slides almost completely out of me before thrusting back in, stealing the air from my lungs in a rush. “As many as you’d like, Darling.”

With the way I feel right now, I don’t think any amount will truly satiate me. I think I may just need him like this for the rest of my immortal existence.

Pleasure licks up my spine as he speeds up his movements, the stones at my back biting into my skin, keeping me grounded for a few seconds longer. His hands squeeze at my ass, kneading my tender flesh as the motion spreads me open a little more for him.

“Fuck,” he hisses into my neck. The stars overhead spin and swirl like a glittering storm, darkness leaking off his shoulders as his wings threaten to appear. I rock my hips into his, matching his pace with a swirling motion I know drives him crazy. “Maybe I really should just kill Kier.”

The sound that comes out of me as he hits a spot inside me that makes the bridge shake as my mental grip on the psychic plain slips is more moan than laugh.

“Then I could fly right home and take you like this against every surface in the house.”

I clench so tight around him at the thought that he growls and sinks his teeth into my shoulder in retaliation and I let my head fall back further to grant him more access to me. I want his mark everywhere, to the point no collar of the sweaters I’ve stolen from him can hide them.

“If you’re asking my permission,” I bite out through a gasp as his fingers slide between my legs, teasing at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to that glorious edge. “You have it.”

His thrusts grow sloppy as his speed increases, his own release barreling towards him as I slide a hand out of his hair and down between the valley of his shoulders. I’ll leave my own marks tonight, so everyone knows he is as much mine as I am his. If his wings were to make an appearance, then this would be where I would trace the thin membrane until I find that spot that drives him crazy. But he’d never bring them out for a quickie, they are too sacred for that. I will settle for his shoulders for now.

My chest brushes his as I gasp for breath, so close to the edge I can feel it in every nerve ending in my body. The bond between us glows warm and bright, filling up every bit of me as he hits that sweet little spot inside me. My eyes screw shut, thigh muscles tightening around his hips as he hits it again and again and again.

“Love you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Love you so much.”

One last thrust and I’m gone, his own release chasing mine as I whimper out his name.

From somewhere outside of us I hear a male voice call his name, demanding to know if he’s listening.

Rhys grumbles nonsensically into my neck as he holds me for a moment, my body trembling as it comes down from its high. This is the first time all day I feel like I can breathe and I cling to his shoulders for a moment, begging for more time.

“Better, love?”

I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “If I say no, will you stay?”

From somewhere outside of me I hear a knock, probably the company’s billing department wanting those expense reports I was attempting to work on earlier. Seems the real world needs things from both of us, regardless of our wishes.

My heart sinks in my chest as I slowly unwind my legs from my mate’s waist and touch solid ground. He is High Lord and despite his protests, I hadn’t been ready to let go of my job, even with a title of my own to deal with, this was territory we would have to deal with eventually, even if we’d had the month we were supposed to.

I stretch up on my toes to kiss him again, gently this time, but there is no less fervor in his response than before. Perhaps that pulling beneath my skin was not just my own need, but his, calling to me from across Velaris.

“I love you,” I say as that knock rattles the bridge, our mental grip slipping as reality beckons, louder and louder. “I can grab dinner on my way home.”

He steals another kiss like it’s his last meal. “As long as I still get you for dessert.”

And then he’s gone, nothing more than a star flecked shadow curled in the corner of my mind as reality comes crashing back in for both of us.

I try not to fidget at the uncomfortable wetness between my legs as I straighten the papers on my desk and tell the incessant knocker to come in. I won’t be doing anyone any favors if I start dishing out the same judgment my mate is on Kier here in the office.

“You got those papers for me?”

I leaf through the stack on the desk, using a bit of magic to hide the glaring scent of my arousal. I just have to make it a couple more hours. Then, Rhys is all mine, and I’ll have to find some creative ways to keep him in our bed until the bond finally settles.

If it ever settles.

#rhys x reader smut #Rhys x reader fluff #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand x reader fluff #Rhys x reader #rhys x you #acotar smut #acotar fics #Rhys fics #my writing #my fanfic

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leonardcohenofficial · 1 year ago

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vinyl + turntable basic info / general tips

while i am by no means a real audiophile or vinyl expert here are some tips that have worked for me over my almost two decades of collecting!

turntables + speakers

do not buy suitcase players. i cannot overstate this enough. do not buy suitcase players. the all-in-one players are generally cheaper, but there isn't enough support from the platter because they are smaller than 12 inch LPs. this can lead to shitty sound quality, the needle can fall out of the groove, and you can actually break your records. save up and pay a little more and get a proper turntable

there is a lot of debate about belt vs. direct drive turntables (belt drive turntables use a belt to spin the turntable while direct drive turntables have the motor directly under the platter) and which is better. very generally speaking if you want better sound quality, belt drive is the way to go; if you want a player that's a little easier to use that's also a little more durable, direct drive is a better option (most DJ turntables are also direct drive, as a side note)

i currently have three turntables and they are all audio-technica, which is a well respected brand (especially for beginners)—i have an AT-LP60X ($149) which is a belt driven player, as well as two AT-LP120XUSB ($349 each) which i use for practicing DJing/selecting. i also have a stanton M.203 mixer (insane to me that it's listed for $350 on amazon, i paid eighty bucks for mine on ebay), audio-technica ATH-M20x headphones (they were a gift but are listed for $49 on amazon) and a set of edifier R1280DB bluetooth speakers ($149). the speakers are hooked up directly into my mixer, but because both the speakers and the AT-LP60X are bluetooth, i can also play records on that turntable too

change your needle! general rule of thumb is to replace your needle every thousand hours of listening; for the average person if you change it once a year you should be good, i'm on the cautious side and change them every six months

i really like my setup; it's on the cheaper side when it comes to "grownup" gear but true audiophiles would probably scoff at my basics. regardless of what you end up getting, a decent turntable that doesn't have the speakers built in that fits within your budget and a good set of speaker or headphones is all you need

buying records

any time that you can, i recommend buying vinyl directly from the artist! whether it's through bandcamp their website or at a show i think it's better to buy direct when you can (and often times it's cheaper than buying through a third party)

when you can, buy local. not only is it good to support independently owned shops, developing a relationship with local music people is great and if they're good they'll start to know you/your tastes. it also allows you to get good at crate digging, because you never know what you're going to find in a dollar section

utilize listening stations if the store has them! people can be pretty fast and loose with grading used records, so it's better to listen to it and see if the audio quality corresponds with the price (i don't always buy mint/nearly mint records and can tolerate a fair amount of noise but not if i'm being ripped off lmfao)

look things up on discogs to see if you're getting ripped off. not only is discogs great for keeping track of your collection (also you can friend me here!), the online marketplace is great for checking average sale prices for a given release. also handy for seeing how rare a release is!

buying records on discogs can be a crapshoot, ebay even more so. read seller's reviews; if there's feedback that they generally grade conservatively, that's a good thing

i have such a large collection that maintaining a record of what i have is really necessary; discogs is really fantastic for this. you can even scan barcodes on specific releases to find them through the discogs app! it's super handy for me as sometimes i forget that i have certain albums already and end up buying multiple copies and having to get rid of them (i need to get better at cataloguing immediately after i get new stuff, i currently have about forty five records i still need to add lmfao)

storing + maintaining records

keep your records clean! get a good cleaning kit and have microfiber cloths on hand to keep your vinyl as dust free as possible. also use those storage sleeves, it makes a different in keeping your records cleaner longer

a general rule of vinyl storage that i learned from the owner of the shop that i've been going to since i was nine years old is to store them in less than 70 degrees F environments with less than 70% humidity (funnily enough this is apparently the same rule for cigars)

i recommend those ikea square storage bookcases, as they're generally study, aren't too expensive, are pretty easy to put together, and hold a lot of records (do not store your records in milk crates long term)

actually listen to your records! there are very few releases i keep sealed for the sake of keeping them in mint condition. vinyl can be a very expensive habit (800+ records later i am living proof lol) but it's no fun to keep them sitting around. have fun collecting and play your music!

#vinyl #music #records #sorry this took a minute ben lmfao #also folks are welcome to share / please feel free to friend me on discogs!

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tyforthevnm · 2 years ago

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MCR Interview - June 14, 2002

Source: wertica_ on LiveJournal

This one's from a webzine called indiesort.com, and was done on June 14th 2002. I think this was Frank's first show...

An Interview with My Chemical Romance

by Kat Brady

In today's NJ scene many successful bands have come out, and many more new bands continue to come out with their unique styles in their own way. But I'm not sure if NJ is ready for what has just came into the scene. What was once laid dormant is now iridescent. Their style of music is exhilarating; with their chaotic melodies and hard driven beats. This one of a kind style caught the eye of "Eyeball Records", and their new found success will surely blow you away. Their stage performance is astonishing. I haven't seen anything like it before. The exuberance in people's faces that will astound you. The maniacal screams that fill the air transcend into your mind leaving you speechless. Who else can I be talking about? No other than My Chemical Romance. These five chaotic, rogue, guys will surely transcend in the NJ scene.

I'm here with the band "My Chemical Romance" all of you guys say Hi.

Gerard: Hi

Mikey: Hi ya

Matt: Hi

Frank: Hey

Ray: Hi

Your views for tonight playing at Krome?

Gerard: It was a lot of fun, you know. Thanks for the crowd, they made it easier for me, being in the condition I am in. It felt great, it felt really awesome. It felt like home up there.

Mikey your views for tonight?

Mikey: I had an excellent time tonight. Umm, everyone was really cool, like all the people up front.

Matt your views?

Matt: I had a blast, I couldn't hear anything except guitar and vocals, but it was very high in scream, but it was great.

Frank your views?

Frank: Tonight was my initiation!! And um the whole time I was like 'don't fuck up, don't fuck up.'

Ray your views ?

Ray: I'm just really proud of Gerard, for just going up there, it was a real break through. It's like going up there with no fingers on your hands as a guitarist ya know, it was incredible.

How did you come up with your band name "My Chemical Romance"?

Gerard: It was all Mikey.

Mikey: I was at work one day, and someone left Irvine Welsh books, and on the back of one, it was talking about his genre, "Chemical romance." And we added the "my" and there ya go.

Gerard: Then Mikey, had this name and he wasn't even in the band, and we were like we need that fucking name dude.

Ray: So that's how we got Mikey in the band , we used him for his name. Haha, no no, now he's a fucking awesome bass player.

Gerard: This kid picked up the bass.

Ray: Fucking 6 months.

Gerard: Not even that! Since January he's been with us, so wait... yeah we have been together 6 months.

Is this your first interview?

Gerard: No this is our second interview. Our first interview was with "SnaggleZine," Kim and Chris who are interns for Eyeball [records], they did ourfirst interview in Garfield at a show. They asked us questions about Disney character's and stuff, it was fun.

Any new stuff coming out , that I should know of?

Gerard: July 23,2002, "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love." It's on Eyeball Records, it was recorded at Nada Studios with Geoff Rickly, John Naclerio, Alex Saavedra producing. It was really hard for me to make this album , I had a lot of problems and hospital visits.

What do you mean Hospital visits?

Gerard: I was in the hospital 5 times during recording, and I saw 7 doctors and they couldn't figure out what I had. If I had a "stroke" or facial nerve paralysis, they gave me a Catscan, ended up being a fucking tooth. It was driving me so insane, I was fucking delirious, and these people here saw me in the hotel one night.

Frank: Ha ha yeah, spit was coming out of his mouth and he was laughing maniacally, it was fucking great.

How does it feel to be on Eyeball?

Gerard: It's fucking amazing, we love it, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. So many great bands, and there's so many great bands coming out like Sleep Station.

Frank: Little Joe Could, there new album is fucking sick.

Ray: A lot of good stuff is coming out, I'm glad to be a part of it.

Frank how does it feel to be a new band member of My Chemical Romance, after the break up of Pencey Prep? How do you feel?

Frank: It's like your a fan of a band and one day they ask you to be in it and you get to be a part of it. I'm like a fucking kid up on stage, it's like the fucking shit.

Gerard: Having him up there I felt so complete, and that's why it made it so much easier, it felt like all like a fucking unit, like another person to throw out energy, it was fucking incredible, I love it.

Frank, I have to ask you about your hair, what the fuck is up with your hair?

Frank: It was suppose to be dread locks, but I'm a white kid so it's just there. It's fucking itchy and sucks.

So when are you going to shave your head?

Frank: I have a horrible shaved head, it comes into a cone.

Gerard: Ha ha, his hair is fuck'n great.

Ray: Like really.

Frank: I think that's the only reason they asked me to be in the band.

Gerard: Mikey is trying the James Dean hair, I'm trying the wolverine hair, it's working.

Mike why don't you ever eat?

Gerard: When he was a kid he was so fat.

Mikey: But I eat food though.

Ray: He eats Pizza Hut, he eats Popeyes.

Gerard: Century Buffet, I was there and this kid here ate a lot, if the kid wants to eat he eats.

Mikey: I ate my weight in sushi today.

Gerard: Like this kid just dropped so much weight one day and now he's skinny as hell. I use to be like 250 pounds.

Frank: We were all fat kids at once, we were all fucking fat.

Gerard: It's good now.

Ray: See how Matt's staying quiet.

Matt: Shut up, I'm 250

Ray: I'm 235

Anything funny happen lately?

Gerard: Ha, no it's all tragedy, nothing worth smiling.

and a picture to go along with the interviews (posted above)

#frank iero #ray toro #mikey way #gerard way #matt pelissier #june 14 2002 #june 2002 #2002 #interview #rica.archive #bullets era #glue locks #cw weight

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reikurusu · 5 months ago

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Ask Meme

I got tagged by the lovely @jalapenobee!! Thank you!! <3

Do you make your bed?

I neatly fold the cover open during the day so it can air out a bit? xD But when I go to bed, I always pull the mattress cover (whatever that's called in English) neatly because it often crumples up. But I don't daily make my bed, no.

What's your favorite number?

Not really.

What is your job?

I've worked at a local library for a little over a year now! It's really fun to do! I have to take care of the adult non-fiction section, which is more fun than I would've thought, as well as admin and helping people during opening hours. Right now, a colleague has been absent for 6+ months, so I've been taking on her section as well, which is youth (fiction and non-fiction) and comics. So quite a lot at the moment. But it's a really fun job!!

If you could go back to school, would you?

I'm not sure... I didn't hate going to school and it was actually a lot less stressful than adult life. I think I'd mainly go back to be my younger self again and maybe do things differently?

Or are we talking about going back to school at this age? If school was the only thing I'd have to focus on, and money and all didn't matter, I think so, yeah! Probably something creative or art history or something.

Can you parallel park?

I can.... But it's either perfect on the first try or I have to retry like 5 times. And if there's a car waiting while I'm failing... Yeah, we're going around the block again and try again afterwards.

A job you had that would surprise people?

I think my previous job. I worked in retail as a Saturday job during college. After graduation, I worked at a company for two years but I quit because it wasn't my thing and was lucky that the store I used to work at was looking for someone. I really liked working there and there was a lot of varied work (admin, window dressing, helping clients,...). But I feel like people at my current job (library) are surprised when I tell them I worked retail? I don't get it, though.

Do you think aliens are real?

Hmmmm... I don't think aliens like the stereotypical aliens exist, but there's no way the universe is this gigantic and Earth is the only place with life.

Can you drive a manual car?

It's the only kind I know how to drive. I've never driven an automatic car. I actually love shifting gears. It gives me something to do while driving, if that makes sense xD

What's your guilty pleasure?

Uhm... I don't think I have one? At least not something that no one else does? Nothing special comes to mind atm...

Tattoos?

None. I just have no idea what I'd want to have permanently on my body. So I doubt I'll ever get one.

Favorite Color?

Blue! All kinds of blue! But I really like a minty-blue, like this.

But lately, I've come to love yellow as well. I'm not sure why, but it's been making me happy for some reason.

Favorite type of music?

In general I either like a song or I don't like it. And because of this, my taste in music can vary a lot. I can like certain songs by a certain artist, yet despise the rest of their music.

As for favourite artists, I love Taylor Swift, The Script and Niall Horan. I think those are my top three artists (she says without any actual proof of it).

Do you like puzzles?

Like, riddles or jigsaws? If it's jigsaws, I haven't made one in years! I'd love to, with some music or tv show in the background, but I don't have the time for it. If it's riddles, yeah, I love riddles! Doesn't mean I'm good at them but I played my fair share of Professor Layton growing up!

Any phobias?

None that I know of. Like, I'm not a fan of creepy bugs and heights and blood and all those typical things, but I wouldn't call them phobias. Like, I'm not a fan of spiders, but I'd never kill one and just put it in a jar and take it outside. So nothing I'm insanely scared of.

Favorite childhood sport?

I don't think I had a favourite sport growing up? I'm not really the most athletic person. But I do know that I was decent at shooting basketballs into the hoop, even for being short lol

Do you talk to yourself?

... Do people not do this? I do this all the time??

What movie(s) do you adore?

I'm not sure if I have an actual favourite movie, but I love Tangled and The Lion King!! I also really love Back To The Future. *looks at dvds* OH! The Holiday and Love, Rosie as well!! I think these are all films I'm always down to watch.

Coffee or tea?

I'm definitely more of a tea person. I most often drink black tea with milk (like, at breakfast, in the evening and when I'm not at work, in the afternoon as well).

I also drink coffee but when I do, I have to have it with milk and sugar and often with some sort of syrup (vanilla, hazelnut or caramel). Or iced! Iced coffee!!

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

I think I wanted to become a farmer? At least that's what my mum told me. I can't imagine being a farmer now, I think kid me thought it would be fun to have a bunch of animals and be outside all day. Grown up me knows it's very different from that. And very often not that nice for the animals...

Also a veterinarian! But.... Y'know, blood and cutting into animals... Pass.

I'm going to tag a couple of mutuals and followers I very often see in my notes, but obviously anyone who wants to do this, can!

And don't feel obligated to do this just because I tagged you! <3

@silversoulstardust @actually-the-devil @in-a-faith-forgottenn-land @keeeegs @aflockofravens @heytheredeann

#Thanks so much for the tag!!!#Tag Game

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what-gs-watching · 1 year ago

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“Saving people, hunting things…the family business.”

Alright. We’re gonna do it. We’re gonna talk about Supernatural. We can’t talk about ALL of Supernatural, that would be ridiculous, but it deserves a comfort show spotlight.

I’m going to admit it: I resisted for a long time. My husband used to stream a shit ton of tv, he needed something to fall asleep to, so in the past I’ve groggily slept through random episodes. And I didn’t really care about it.

I remember when it came out, I loved Jared from Gilmore Girls naturally but I never got into it. Honestly, I was really annoyed there was a character named Dean that wasn’t Jared, I’m a fickle bitch.

So it was whatever. But again, I lost all sense of everything during the pandemic and started binging. I went through all of the X-Files (even the newer seasons, I did it all, it was a thing). I went insane watching Fringe. I was devastated when I lost Peter Bishop, aka perfect New England boyfriend. And then Netflix really started flinging Supernatural at me. Like, really hard.

Last December, I was already spiraling with my job a bit, I can see that now. I was tired. And I needed something else to get lost in. TV was literally the only thing I had energy for. And there were 15 fucking seasons. That’s too many seasons. So I begrudgingly gave in, and I started it.

Y’all know what it’s all about: two brothers, Sam and Dean, are hunters (of monsters) because their mother was murdered by a demon when Sam was just a baby, and their father, John, couldn’t let it go. So he packed the boys up for life on the road, hunting the thing that had ruined his family, thrusting his kids onto a path they did not choose.

And I’m gonna be honest, I fought the whole way. I really did. I kept asking my husband what the eff was up with Sam and Dean. Just…why? I kept shouting at the screen that the two of them needed boundaries. But I also kept watching. I like a good Monster of the Week. And I’m a weirdo for overarching storylines. I like the lore, I do. Secret nerd, me.

And like I said, there’s no real way to talk about ALL of Supernatural, but that’s okay because it’s really about the little things for me.

The brotherness of it all Does Sam and Dean’s absolute and unwavering dedication to each other drive me nuts a little bit? Yes. They make so many stupid decisions to save each other - Sam with the demon blood, Dean selling his soul to save Sam, Dean with the mark, Sam jumping into the cage with Lucifer. There are literally probably hundreds of examples. It’s exasperating.

Dean thinks his entire existence is meant to protect Sam, I get it, he was conditioned that way, and Dean is basically the only thing Sam has left in the world, so it’s mostly mutual (except for that whole purgatory situation, he really didn’t try at ALL to find him? C’mon) but it’s also heartbreaking. John fucked up their lives, that dude was driven by the singular thought of avenging his wife, when he had a six month old and a four year old to take care of? Like, she’s dead my dude, but you have these two little fragile things you’re supposed to take care of and protect and foster, and this is the route you take? Fuck, man. I can’t imagine going through that.

Creating your own family Which leads me to Bobby. Crotchety, kind, beleaguered Bobby. Those boys needed an actual father figure and this weirdo stepped up so perfectly. He encouraged them and tried to guide them with a gentle hand - he knew those idjits would fuck it all up but he went along with them as much as he could, playing that parent game of trying to let them make their own choices as long as it wouldn’t destroy them. The episode where he’s fighting his reaper, trying to get away, and his last memory is an innocuous movie night with Sam and Dean? Tragic and sweet. I’m still mad my boy Bobby was done dirty, dying during one of the worst seasons (Leviathans, am I right?) but I appreciate their grief over losing him was real.

On the topic, I also have to say that I love the people Sam and Dean end up pulling into their orbit. Charlie was a fucking delight, and her bond with Dean was so pure; she was the little sister he never had and you can tell he let her in right away. When she says “I love you” and he just says “I know” it’s as far as Dean can go and it’s just good. I don’t think I could have forgiven Sam for getting her killed in a stupid plan he purposely kept from Dean. She agreed to help because she wanted to save her brother and she got murdered for it. Good deeds don’t go unpunished, gang.

Also, Jodie and Donna. In a show that doesn’t really seem to care about women at all, you get two badasses that can hold their own and won’t take any shit, and Sam and Dean acknowledge how strong they are. Out of all of the random spinoffs they tried over the years, theirs is the one I would have preferred to get lost in.

And, I’m gonna say it, Jack. I was ready to hate that little antichrist but he charmed the hell out of me. Mostly because of the ‘three men and a baby’ vibe, Dean and Sam and Castiel trying to rear that sweet summer child away from destroying absolutely everything and eventually, really really succeeding. I might be in the minority, but it was really satisfying. Jack is my babe, I’ll shout that shit from the rooftops.

Castiel Castiel is a whole thing, I know. And I love it. He gets his own category.

Sweet, complicated Castiel. I have a special place in my heart for Cas. And it’s not entirely because of the whole Destiel situation. That crazy angel had a big ol’ character arch and I truly appreciate it. Hated him in the beginning, and then that whole “assbutt” moment happened and he turned away from heaven and the great plan and toward humanity. And then a lot more drama, trying to rule in heaven and the leviathans, ending up as a human for a bit, his whole thing with Metraton, etc.

But Cas is important because Dean is long-suffering, always the one to lose and make the hard (sometimes stupid) choices and he’s so resigned to his fate but Castiel is the buoy in all that. He’s the only one fully committed to Dean. The episode where Dean forgets who he is and he stands in front of a mirror repeating ‘Sam is your brother, Cas is your best friend’ - of all the things Dean is and needs to remember, that’s important. Castiel raised him from perdition, searing him with the mark of his grip. They’re bonded.

I really love that Castiel gets to be his own thing a part from the boys, he grows so fucking much, but he’s also always Dean’s anchor. No matter how you feel about Destiel and the implications, the fact that Cas comes to understand humanity enough to say that just telling someone you love them without that being returned can be the best moment of your life, can be true happiness, is really something. Sometimes that is enough. Getting out of your own way can be enough.

I clearly have a thing for angels that can be a little bit of a bastard. I will ALWAYS root for Castiel.

Baby I’m not sure why I’m so charmed by the dedication to Baby, but I love it. It appeals to a very specific aesthetic in me. Of course that’s the kind of car they roll around in, perfectly old and beautiful, all sharp black lines and power and time. It’s Dean’s dedication to the family business and one of their only constants. He teaches Sam how to care for her, and he rebuilds her over and over. He even manages to pick her out in the first place, eventually. It’s sweet that Baby is home. She’s the heart, gang. Solid, strong, broken over and over again but always persisting.

The universe One of the best pieces of Supernatural is the universe it creates for itself. How adamant they’d been in the beginning that yeah of course demons exist, but God definitely doesn’t, but the random other gods found in lore throughout history do. It's so easy to change a universe that draws a line in the sand, and it just keeps getting bigger and more complex and silly and reckless.

I love the little touches. The fact that there’s a Supernatural book series, with an underground fan base enough to host a con (though I don’t want to get into the Chuck of it all, I’m still absolutely irate over all of that). Sam and Dean being so utterly embarrassed by them is hilarious, but it’s a way for them to get the recognition they deserve, even if it’s through fiction. People love those books, their story, and even if they never get thanked in real life, there are people out there believing in them.

I mean, the all girls’ school musical? Absolute perfection. That episode was meant to be a love letter to the entire thing, and it’s so perfect. Sam wonders why it isn’t “Samstiel”, and Dean is upset to learn about BM scenes, aka boy melodrama. The song girl-Cas sings, I’ll just wait here then… and their stripped down version of the boys’ unofficial anthem. It makes my tween heart sing, it satisfies my cravings for all things meta (jesus I’m basic). It’s just warmth and love and appreciation.

Frenemies AKA, unlikely and this-is-a-stupid-fucking-idea allies. All good shows need this. Crowley was never a true favorite of mine, but I appreciate that he saw how valuable keeping a tenuous relationship with the Winchesters could be. And I will still always and forever laugh at the fact that Dean was in his phone as ‘Not Moose’. One of my absolute favorite gags. Those two are perfectly Moose and Squirrel. His affection for the two of them proving that demons can be a little bit human, too. But that doesn’t get him off the hook for convincing Dean to take on the mark, even though I secretly enjoy their bromance once he does become a demon. Sometimes you need to have that friend you secretly kind of hate a little because they’re a dick, but they’re useful.

(Side rant: the Crowley/Crowley situation between Supernatural and Good Omens is making my brain bleed, I can’t make myself say it differently enough in my mind for there to be a good enough distinction because y’all, one is an obvious smash and one is an obvious pass. I’m just sayin’. It’s making it difficult to yell at the tv…)

Also. Rowena also falls into this category. Again, another strong woman in a room full of idiot men, holding her own. I’ve been that woman a lot of times, surrounded by boys who just can’t get their shit together and you stand and you watch and you help or hurt when you can, because at the end of the day. you need to be out for yourself. I respect the fuck out of her for looking out for herself. She was world weary because she had to be, she lived through hundreds of years of oppression and she was gonna get what was hers, but by the end, she came around to those boys. She’s the friend you keep at a distance because you’re never sure what the fuck they’re gonna do, but you can appreciate her seeming unpredictability because sometimes she uses it to help you, or thrust some unfortunate truth at you that you need to hear.

The point is: all of these little random things amount to something absurd and funny and gruesome and welcoming and silly and strange. And I could probably write ten different posts like this, pulling out more things that make Supernatural what it is, and that’s what makes it so all-encompassing.

So. I spent four months watching this show. Every day, some ridiculous Sam and Dean adventure. What were they gonna get up to? I never knew, but it was reassuring to know they’d always get out of it. It was my main comfort, and four months is a really long time.

When I got to the end of it, I was mired in yet another ridiculous work emergency and everything about me was fried. I was raw, fraying ends. So when I watched the finale, I sobbed. Like, really sobbed. Trying to take breaths I couldn’t quite make deep enough, while Dean was driving Baby and they were playing ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’. The episode ended and I kept crying. I went and found my husband and just cried at his face. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever watched the end of it or not and I tried pathetically to explain why I was crying so hard. I cried for everything that I was. It broke a dam I’d been holding in. And I felt stupid for it, who gives that much of a fuck about a show about hunting monsters?

But it wasn’t necessarily about the show, I mean it was a little bit, but it was also about me and whatever the fuck I was going through. And that’s what content is for. I’d wrapped myself in a Sam-and-Dean blanket for months to try and blunt a bunch of things, but they brought those things up to the surface anyway.

Feeling the real emotion of things through fake things. Is it healthy? Probably not, but it’s an art form, it’s a coping mechanism. I was crying about software and work melodrama and life frustration (can I still claim to be having a quarter life crisis if I’m in my 30s?), but also about Dean dying on the job in the way he’d always assumed he would, about Sam’s kid having the same tattoo, about Bobby being there at the end, about Sam being there at the end. It’s just easier that way.

All that to say, I can’t recommend the Sam-and-Dean blanket enough. It’s cozy and it’s sprawling and ridiculous and complete. I put it down for a month before yet another stupid thing happened to rattle me (so many things this year), and I knew right away where I needed to go. Back to the blanket. Which means I’m in the middle of my second watch. And I’m pretty sure, that at any point in time in the future, I’ll be in the middle of some rotation of it, even if I go off for months at a time. It’ll always be in the queue, because I know when I need it, there’ll always be an adventure I'm sure Sam and Dean will get out of.

#what g's watching #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel

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rearranging-deck-chairs · 2 years ago

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If I may, #1 ("Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?" - I am more and more curious about the technobabble you've been posting, haha), #3 ("What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need?") and #18 ("Do any of your stories have alternative versions? [...] Tell us about them.")

1."Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?"

current project is a thasmissy fic (wait do people even know that portmanteau? ive just been using it. yaz/13/missy) set between revolution and flux. it's basically vault times but with 13 and yaz instead of 12 and bill. it's about coming to terms with trauma and coming to terms with your sexuality i think most concisely put. or in other words i think ive put it like it's about "the things we dont want to touch and the things we DO want to touch". heres the video i made of it last year for anyone who hasnt seen it:

youtube

this video took a full month to make and drove me almost insane which makes sense bc editing this fic rn is driving me again insane. just need to finish two more scenes. one of which is the technobabble

it's really fun to do but also takes soooo much time. my favourite tardis wiki page is the tardis components one so im on that a lot, and then ive got a thousand wikipedia pages open about philosophical, linguistic and mathematical concepts and then i try to put words together in a way thats at least superficially a little bit convincing

it's completely incoherent of course but it sounds fun. my browser history looks like this now:

no idea what any of those things actually are <3

3 "What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need?"

honestly i dont think i have a lot of those? i think generally my writing process is just that i write the scene i want to write, and either that turns into the whole fic, or i combine it with other scenes i wanted to write and shuffle then all around for a long time until it resembles something like a story. who needs set up? just jump into the medias of res babey

18 "Do any of your stories have alternative versions? […] Tell us about them."

full stories probably not or maybe there were but i dont remember now. but theres a lot of scenes with alternative versions in this thasmissy fic bc i had to puzzle and recut and rewrite a lot until it made the least bit of sense due to aforementioned "shuffle around until it resembles a story" approach

theres one scene where there was a really clear fork in the road where first i went down one route and then i was like 'oh no i cant do this, it breaks the relationship beyond what i want it to' so i had to go back and take the other path. im still fond of that alternative scene because it was also an interesting one i think

it's a scene between yaz and missy and in the cut version yaz said/did something that sort of cemented their dynamic as an echo of what my interpretation is of vault times thoschei, ie that the doctor keeps the master trapped. half physically half emotionally. because i think the master could leave, the vault or 13's tardis in this fic, but emotionally it's more complicated than that. the power the doctor has over them is that they want the doctor's love, especially missy is super overtly driven by that. the master always is but missy is unashamed and almost unresentful of it i think. missy will say "love me" out loud, basically. "i need my friend back" you know?

and what i had yaz do put missy in that same kind of position she is wrt the doctor. and they both immediately realised that and missy was like "youre just like her" and yaz was like "oh shit i fucked up". it's an interesting scene i think because being like the doctor is what yaz wants, right? and being like the doctor is why missy is drawn to her. but yaz doesnt want to replicate the relationship dynamic of the doctor and the master. she wants to be like the doctor but she also has that I Can Fix Her instinct. and i think with missy that is way more important because missy doesnt need another doctor (even though she also wouldnt be interested in someone who wasnt a little bit the doctor, you know? hi clara. i think 12/missy/clara and 13/dhawan/yaz are like two sides of the same coin. the companion a mirror to both the doctor and the master)

#sorry for Very long answers but thank you for asking <33 #thasmissy

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eoieopda · 1 year ago

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HI JADE AHUDJEW I JUST SAW YOUR POST ABOUT SHARING OUR SVT BIAS AND I AM HERRREREEEEEE!!!! (Ok I’ll calm down I’m just always overexcited to talk about them lmao)

So when I first “met” svt Vernon was the first member I noticed bc somehow I always find the weird ones right off the bat hehe and then Wonwoo snuck in there a bit but then as I watched through Going Seventeen I really started to notice Mingyu being so big and tall and dumb (affectionate) but also I noticed how smart he is? And he’s so funny? Like what sealed the deal for me was his confidence using English in one of their videos exploring NY and ultimately in the first 돈’t Lie when he came up with the name… (I’m a words/language person so I find people v v attractive who use multiple languages and when they make jokes using those languages??? I’m gone.) and I also relate to him being the butt of all the jokes (along with Dino) in the friend group so there’s that too 😅 and he very quickly became my ult bias of all time. Like I generally stay pretty level headed as a fan but he gets me going a little delulu at times. I was ranting about him and his latest shenanigans to my sister driving with my boba a couple months ago and I got so worked up I squeezed my boba cup to calm down bc road safety and all that and I spilled my boba all over my lap (and anyone who knows me irl knows you do not mess with my boba).

My bias line besides Gyu has to be DK (human sunshine and also secretly Built), S.Coups (leader and complete alpha vibes but also the cutest softest giggliest fluffy-haired teddy bear), and Joshua (man is CRAZY. He comes across as a sweet lil gentleman but let me tell you he is unhinged… Jeonghan’s other devious half. And his latest promo show with Jun was them playing with children for children’s day and when I say my ovaries exploded……. He’s so natural with them!!) and Hoshi. I don’t even have words for hoshi… like, his tiger agenda is such a Thing and his duality is Insane like he goes from squishy lil ball of hamster to sexy dance god and is equally himself in both forms and I just cannot with him. He cannot hold his liquor and is so driven and talented and Wow.

This absolutely turned into an epistle and I’m so sorry lmao 😂 I’m like a dog with a bone or something when someone brings up seventeen 😅 looking forward to seeing you find who claims you as your bias!! Teehee welcome to caratland!

omg no, i love this. i love hearing/reading people go full tilt about things/people that excite them and this was 🤌🏻

also i died at the spilt boba because last week, i got so physically excited about something that i jumped weirdly in my seat and pulled a muscle in my groin, lmao. unabashedly overexcited girlies RISE!!!!!

#jade speaks #dvalitaes #moots #svt

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polyjuicedpadfoot · 1 year ago

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Fuck I hate it in my city rn, rant under the cut…

TW: Homophobia, Racisim, Transphobia

There’s this guy who spends his afternoons standing at a popular intersection in my neighbourhood with a sign and a Canadian flag, me and my family call him Sign Guy. In the past and for the past year +, he’s had signs that bash the gouvernement for making the pandemic up to control us and other anti vaccine things that are really just bs and conspiracy theories he’s spreading to the public for no reason.

But today his sign was different. I haven’t driven by him at the time he stands there yet this month, but today I did and he had a new sign for Pride Month.

I took a picture but it was so blurry that you can’t read it so I’ll describe it for you. It says this:

0 Pride

1 Race

2 Genders

3 The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit

Now this guy is insane, he’s there in rain or snow to spread his hate about the pandemic which is whatever. But this, this three in one hate train is targeted towards actual people who fucking drive by this guy every day.

Not only that, but the honks. I was in a drive thru across the street for 5 minutes and I heard so many honks. Now in the past, there haven’t been many honks but there were so many today. Not only that, but I don’t even know if they are in anger or agreement, but either way, I don’t feel safe, just in case all those people driving by and honking believed that.

Anyways, I needed to rant because I’m frustrated and sad and scared in my own neighbourhood and I hate it here and that he gets to advertise his sick ideas with no consequences to his own personal well being while everyone who was targeted by that sign has to live in fear of what his little stand will mean to the community.

#homophobia #racisim #transphobia #Im fucking angry #and sad #and scared #em rants

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partysongs-4-urfuneral · 1 month ago

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1/10/2024

so, the best month of the year has started, and i have nothing but complaints. that probably speaks lots about me as a person, but right now i'm a little bit angry and sad over a few things.

i stopped being friends with a boy who made me feel awful. which i know realistically i should feel more about, but right now i'm just comfortably numb. tommorow is gonna be awful i'm sure, what with not knowing where im gonna sit at lunch and where my other friend is gonna fall in the equation of it all, but to stay another day dealing with his constant barrage of insults im not sure were all jokes would have actually driven me insane. seriously, who says "you're a fucking slut and this world would be better off without you" as just a gag? and then is shocked when i get mad? ugh, boys.

i really don't want to sound like i have a complex or anything, but i just wish i could connect with people in my year on more than the surface level. like, to have someone to genuinely share my interests with? someone who's quick-witted, well-spoken and well-read, who listens and cares about what i have to say instead of just worrying what's going to come out of their own mouth next. i feel like i want someone who doesn't exist, and it's slowly driving me a little bit insane. and realistically, i can't be that special. surely, there's someone out there in my year who i can have a genuine, good friendship with? why is this so hard?

sometimes i think i feel things more deeply than i ever really should. but, not quite. like, at the huge things that should affect me, i'm left silent and strangely numb, yet at the little things i blow up and get irrationally angry. i'm not naturally that angry of a person, yet something small will make me want to crawl out of my own skin and bite like a rabid dog. on what, i'm not sure. but there's definitely teeth, and something cathartic in it.

actually, i think my period is due soon. that explains why i'm like this. let's hope i dont do something i'll end up regretting

#partysongs 4 urfuneral

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offthegridliterally · 1 month ago

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September 25, 2024

Boredom: Taking Things Up A Notch

I woke up sick today and, consequently, felt like the world was against me. Thus, I watched a couple of videos on "gap years." Most of them happen to be positive takes on the matter; now, keep in mind, I am into almost month 2 of my very own gap year. The video served as a form of consolation and comfort as to "Yeah, other people are also doing this, it's fine!" since I have been feeling a little isolated.

For context, for the past two years, I have been living on an island in the East Coast of the United States, which, don't get me wrong, is awesome. I met the most incredible people and the dearest friends here; these past two years have been an insane dream. However, since graduating from high school here, those amazing people have thus moved on to college. I am going to college, too! Only, next year due to my and my parents' decision to take a gap year. Moreover, living on this awesome island has its downfalls, especially as we head into fall and winter.

Academically and career-wise, I have been having no issues with it. I have applied to internships focused on the career I want to follow pos BA, am studying different languages, and reading more into courses and topics of my philosophy major. However, seeing my friends in college makes me feel as though I am missing out on a social life more than anything. Visiting them in college is no problem, but, to keep things in perspective, it takes a 45min ferry to the mainland and a 2-hour drive to the nearest city. I have no problem with either of those circumstances, only it makes it hard to visit every weekend or even every two weekends.

Consequently, this does not diminish the people and communities I have in my favor on the island.

Moreover, after spending some time watching videos of people talking about their own journey with gap years, I have decided to keep and follow a list of activities that can and will keep me busy during these 9 months of self-growth. I am a very schedule and pressure-driven person, so I am making these next nine months a period of learning to let go as well as self-discipline!

The island is beautiful and the people are the nicest around. Why not make connections and take advantage of what it has to offer: beautiful beaches, landscapes, experiences people, and much more I want and must explore.

I wanted to keep my thoughts and ideas on paper, but find that I am a way better typer, so keeping a blog is the most versatile way to do that. I am very excited about this and seem to have found a new purpose other than academic validation.

I want to include pictures, music, movies, quotes, and everything that I deem important for the day.

#hopecore #girlblogging

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percontaion-points · 11 months ago

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Packless chapters 3 & 4

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 3

Only Driftwood wasn’t my dad, and please wasn’t enough to change his mind.

I don’t know what this has to do with anything. In chapter one, it said that they were her foster family. So does Driftwood have legal custody over the child or not?

Note: I don’t know a lot about what foster parents can and can’t do. Can a foster parent decide to send a child hundreds of miles away to a boarding school?

My protest faded to a strangled gasp. Because not only was the blond as naked as the day he was born… but a pale mist rose from his body, only to be replaced a moment later by a huge, golden wolf.

Chapter 3 summary: Now that the narration has introduced the concept of this school to us, it wastes literally no time in having Driftwood dump Vail at the school. He’s gone by the first page of the chapter.

From there, Vail is driven down an excessively long drive to the actual school, where she meets the principal. She’s like “school started more than two months ago, so there’s a lot for you to catch up on!” Which is fair.

She then opens a door and shoves Vail into a room where three boys are waiting for her. They kind of mock and belittle her for how little she knows… And it’s at this point that I realise that Vail has literally no idea that werewolves exist. What an insanely shitty thing for Driftwood to have done, to send her to a werewolf school when she knows literally nothing.

Anyway, the boys are like “Alright, time to show her!” so one of them literally strips naked and then shifts into a wolf in front of her.

Chapter 4

“Best way to break it to you, is an up-close look at the goods. Wolves exist. This school belongs to the Hunter Moon Pack. And you’re here because someone thinks you have a wolf inside you, too.”

I still think that chucking her at this school without any sort of explanation of wolves or shifters is the shittiest fucking thing that anybody could possibly do.

I didn’t have to believe any of this, because as soon as the welcome committee got distracted, I was slinking out a side door and taking my furless ass home.

There’s no way in hell that I’d go back to Driftwood. That shitfuck can burn in hell for all I care. Time to lie about your age and find a job.

I’d barely brushed my ponytail in days, so I just got onto my knees with a sigh. The humiliation was immediate, but plenty of girls were gazing up at the dais with hope in their eyes. Buzzcut had just implied they were going to work as maids for these jackasses. Did they have no self-respect? Or did they just figure with the amount of floor scrubbing in their future, they might as well start toughening up their knees?

When we were all settled, the other two boys started to circle the group. The blond was smiling again, even nodding at a couple girls whose faces erupted in pretty blushes.

While the entire concept of forcing rank on people who aren’t living up to your imagined expectations is beyond icky to me, this is somehow a billion times worse.

And I’d seen firsthand the hairy beast that hid under his good looks and smooth smile. I might have just met my first werewolf, but a girl in a red cape, I was most definitely not.

Chapter 4 summary: As I mentioned in my commentary about the third chapter, Vail literally had no idea that werewolves existed, and she fainted. As she wakes up, she asks them if they really are werewolves. The boys insist that it’s simply “wolf” or “shifter”, not “werewolf”.

They say a lot of demeaning shit to her, like how she’s “packless” and “clawless”... But again. If a girl didn’t even know that this shit existed, saying all of this right now is exceptionally meaningless.

They take her into the next room, where there’s a bunch of girls, all in uniforms. They line Vail up at the end, and then begin to explain. The girls in the room are either half-wolf (ie, they can’t fully transform) or are duds, which is to say no wolf at all. If this is the case, then they’re going to be mistreated in school, given shit bunks, and shit food. If it’s still the case come graduation, then they’re basically signing up for a lifetime of indentured servitude to a pack.

The boys force the girls to get down on their knees. As Vail moves to comply, she looks around at the other girls who are blushing up at the boys like this is the place where they belong. Like I said: ICKY.

They continue on and say that there’s a chance that the girls could be omegas. Which is to say, at least somewhat useful. The narration kind of glosses over this, but I got the impression that omegas are mainly used as breeding stock for alphas.

Prediction: She’s going to be an alpha or something, isn’t she?

#Packless #hunter moon academy #readers of tumblr #bookblr #book review #omegaverse #werewolves #reverse harem #supernatural romance #romance novels #fantasy novel

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gureishi · 2 years ago

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come on, baby, take me there

✧ — Summary: They talk about friendship. They talk about love. There’s one thing they never say, though—and it’s starting to drive her insane.

✧ — Pairing: Saeyoung x Eunji (CMC)

✧ — Rating: E (m/f sex, bjs, fingering, facefucking, biting)

✧ — A/N: I hadn’t written smut in eleven months, and then suddenly, in May, I felt like trying again. This is my first ever CMC smut, which feels really vulnerable (probably why I only shared it with a couple of close friends until now). But it also ended up one of the bits of fanfiction i’m proudest of, so (after all) here it is!

Eunji counts the things in her life: people she’s loved and the ones she’s lost; stars and clouds and raindrops; steps and eyelashes; boards in the floor and cracks in the sidewalk.

Her mother’s office had black and white tiles, and Eunji would jump from one to the next, careful to always land within the lines. She had good balance, but no child is perfect: when the tips of her toes crossed two differently-colored tiles, she’d cry so hard her mother would send her home.

Her old apartment had a shape on the ceiling that looked like little islands: three hundred and seventy-two of them.

When things are bad, she counts her own movements: two taps with alternating right and left fingers; eighteen blinks as she makes her coffee; eight hundred breaths till she falls asleep.

It took her thirty-eight steps to walk from one end of Rika’s apartment to the next.

She’s never been any good at math—gave it up after high school, still uses a calculator for basic subtraction—but she knows exactly how many cars they’ve driven past today.

That count wasn’t a hard one. The road’s almost empty: they’ve seen just twelve other cars, and he’s driven a little faster each time they’ve passed one.

Now, it’s late enough for the stars to come out, and she tucks her knees to her chest, pulling her sweatshirt down over them: not cute, but almost like a blanket. Saeyoung glances at her, smiling when he sees the way she’s made herself comfortable. He’s got one hand on the wheel, his pretty fingertips tapping along with the music. The corners of his eyes are pink, the only sign he ever shows that he’s getting tired.

“Better?” he asks, using his free hand to pull her hoodie all the way down to her ankles. “You can sleep if you want to.”

She knows this routine. You’re tired, he’ll say, and you’re the one keeping us alive, she’ll remind him. He’ll ask her to sleep and she’ll ignore him—he’ll smile indulgently and turn the music down and she’ll wake up an hour or so later, disoriented and stiff, when he pulls the car into another of his inexplicably undetectable hideouts.

“How long?” she asks. He checks his GPS—not the one on his phone but a funny little contraption of his own invention, which she’s tried (and failed) to understand.

“Forty-four minutes,” he tells her. “I know a place.”

He always does.

Eunji starts counting down, though she doesn’t mean to. She’s actually happiest here, in this neat little car with its soft leather seats, where she can feel the heat from his body and hear the sound of his breathing. She’s never loved driving, but she’s beginning to feel like she could spend the rest of her life in his red Maserati.

She counts minutes and seconds, days and weeks, months and years.

She spent six days in hell, alone—four days in hell, beside him.

And there have been seven days of endless road—seven nights in strange, cramped spaces. One week of holding his hand while he steers with the other, smiling at the sunlit look in his eyes and wishing—for the first time—to be nowhere but here.

They talk. Then they’re quiet. Then they talk some more.

Eunji has always feared silences, which are akin to death. She fills them with meaningless chatter, shatters them with laughter she doesn’t always mean. She asks people questions they don’t want to answer—agrees with the stupidest things just so somebody’s speaking.

And he is the same: scared of death (though he says he isn’t); afraid of quiet (though he was always alone). On the phone, they sometimes talked over each other. It gave her butterflies.

Silence with him is starting to make sense.

Sometimes, they sit in silence for hours: music on, but they’re not really listening; eyes on the road, the rhythm of their breaths making a melody. Other times they talk: about the things they want and the things that frighten them; about where they’ve been and—most tentatively—where they’re going.

He’s told her how it felt to come home to a quiet house, heart racing as he wondered what might have happened while he was away.

She’s told him about everyone she’s ever loved, and all the ways she found to leave those people behind.

He’s told her about the times he’s hurt people—and how he’d hide himself away afterwards, half-hoping no one would find him.

She’s told him how she hates living in her own head. He knows the feeling.

He’s told her about his dreams, too: the long-forgotten wishes he buried a million years ago; the family he’d given up on finding till he heard her voice over the phone.

He’s never said any of this out loud before, and she loves him all the more because she understands what it means for him to be honest.

They talk about friendship. They talk about love.

There’s one thing they never say, though—and it’s starting to drive her insane.

Eunji has liked Saeyoung since the first time they spoke—loved him ever since she saw his lonely, laughing eyes. She’s never fallen in love like this before: so hard and fast she forgot to count the seconds. She’s known him for seventeen days—liked him, loved him, wanted him.

It’s the longest she’s ever gone without getting what she wants.

“Hey,” he says now. “Look down.”

She opens her eyes, not having realized she’d closed them. They’re driving over a bridge, a dark river sparkling beneath them, shimmering with the reflection of the stars.

“Pretty.” She looks from the river to the road—from the road to his hand, from his hand to his shoulder. He’s intuitive and perceptive and brilliant, but he’s got no idea, she thinks—no sense of what happens to her when he shifts in his seat, muscles flexing under her t-shirt as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

He says something else, taking a right at the end of the bridge, lifting his hips to reach for the phone that’s tucked into the center console. Her stomach flips.

“You’ve got a very cute look on your face,” he says, grinning the way that stirs her up like the center of a storm. “What’s on your mind?”

She sits back so her hair falls over her eyes, pretending she’s sleepy. It’s easier than saying touch me soon, or I’ll die.

He giggles, knowing she’s faking it (not knowing why). With her eyes closed, she really does feel tired—and the rhythm of his car is familiar, the engine beneath her humming a lullaby, and he inhales—exhales—one, two, three, four, five…

“Wake up, princess,” he whispers. “They’ll look at me funny if I carry you inside.”

Her head’s heavy, but skin vibrates as his fingers brush her arm. She never remembers her half-asleep-late-night-engine-purring-car dreams, but she has a strong feeling those hands played a starring role.

She’s not sure how she’s going to survive another night like the last few.

“You’re the princess,” she tells him, tucking her hair into her hood. She pouts till he smiles.

“Good thing you know who you’re dealing with.” He’s parked at the edge of a large, tree-lined lot: unlit, without another car in sight. “Let’s be quick,” he says, “just in case.”

Eunji knows this by now: never linger in a stopped car; never step outside if there’s anyone near. She pulls his backpack from its spot at her feet and he fills it with the same things as always: four phones (three are his); five IDs (none are real); the gun from the glove compartment, which she wishes weren’t here, though she knows why it has to be.

“There’s someone inside?” she asks. Saeyoung nods, handing her a neat roll of bills.

“They know better than to ask anything here,” he says, stepping out into the night. “Still.”

She follows him, the wind stinging her eyes and making her shiver. It’s getting colder every day, and the nights out here are brutal. She pulls her hood tighter: no one who’d want to find them knows her features, but her hair would give them away.

“Be good,” he says, coming around the front of the car to give her a fleeting kiss. “See you soon.”

She knows he means be safe, but her legs still shake. It’s not from fear.

Sometimes they spend the night in abandoned houses—cabins—hideaways. Other times they sleep in mysterious little motels she can’t seem to find on a map. This is the latter.

Eunji relishes the sound of gravel crunching beneath her feet as she walks to the entrance alone. It’s the third time she’s done this, and she’s starting to feel sure of herself. He never said being with him was easy, but she finds she doesn’t much mind.

She locates the short, balding man at the tiny desk in the dark, ramshackle lobby—says “hello” and “goodbye” as she gives him the cash Saeyoung’s already counted—suppresses the deeply-ingrained instinct to smile politely as he hands over the keys.

Saeyoung’s already waiting for her in the hall.

“You’re too quiet,” she mutters, shaking her head as she counts the doors (seven—eight—nine). “Some day, when we’re safe, I’ll teach you how to make noise.”

He chokes, eyes wide in the darkness. Her face burns. That’s not what she meant.

(It sort of is, though.)

She avoids his eyes for the moment, throwing open the door to their room: small and dingy, with shades on the windows and shadows on the walls. The bed takes up most of the space. She wonders how he’ll handle that.

He is already busy, checking the locks on the door and the one on the windows—scanning the corners and floor boards for cameras. She knows this routine by now, though she’s not sure how much is habit rather than necessity.

He checks inside the lamp before turning it on: its light casts a golden glow over the tiny room, doing a dance with the shadows.

Eunji locates the tiny bathroom. She’s carrying everything she needs in one backpack by now, though she hasn’t managed to organize: it takes several minutes to find her face soap and even longer to dig out a hair tie.

She feels more alive once the warm water touches her skin.

When she returns to the bedroom, Saeyoung’s leaning against the window. There’s a little more space there than before.

“I moved the bed,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’ll sleep over here.”

He’s done it again.

Night after night, he finds a space for himself that’s separate from hers—divides up tiny rooms into sections so he can sleep on the floor.

All the things left unsaid are driving her mad.

“Will you sit with me, at least?” She doesn’t mean to sound sharp, and her chest aches when he lowers his gaze. “Sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

She sinks into the bed, wondering—as she often does in the early hours of the morning—whether she’s only still here because it’s too late to leave her. He said he’d bring her in the first place so he could keep her safe, but he’s sworn since then that he wants her by his side.

It’s hard to believe—harder still when he won’t come close.

One, two, three, four, five floor boards to the door.

The bed springs creak as he sits. Her heart squirms like a too-big fish in a manmade pond.

“How are you holding up, starshine?” His fingers find her face and the familiar calluses and scars make her stomach do somersaults. She twists so she can see him, torn between laughter and tears at the way he perches on the edge of the bed: he’s hardly putting any weight on it, like he’s ready to run away at a moment’s notice.

In the car, everything’s easy, with the console between them and the stars in their eyes.

Here, in this tiny room, on this creaky bed, she doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m good,” she tells him. “I’m tired. I need to stretch my legs. I like the musty smell of this room. I want to kiss you.”

“Oh,” he says. His cheeks are a familiar shade of pink, the tips of his ears bright as his hair, and she smiles. It makes her feel better when he blushes. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Is that your final answer?” She reaches for a strand of his hair, which sticks up in all directions because he runs his fingers through it while he drives. He shifts nervously and the bed squeaks beneath him.

“Kiss me,” he says, his voice hoarse and strange. “Please?”

Please is better than okay. He makes no attempt to move closer so she crawls to him, sighing with longing and lust and days of pent-up frustration when his hand lands on her waist. His lids are lowered and his eyelashes make pretty patterns against his pink cheeks. She takes his face in both hands and lingers for a moment, looking at him.

He’s beautiful.

Gently, she thinks. So he knows he’s loved. So he knows he’s safe.

Her lips brush his (one) and he breathes in deep (two) and his chest is warm (three) and her stomach flips (four) and she forgets the promise she made herself to be patient.

(Five, six, seven.)

Her lips crash into his and she’s got two hands curled in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, wishing he was naked, wishing he was inside her, wishing she could stop time and fall into him forever. For a moment, he goes still—then he makes a sound that’s almost a growl, rough hands gripping her hips, then her waist—roving up her sides, grasping her hair so hard it hurts.

She’s a second from falling apart.

She kisses him harder, gripping his thighs—wandering, wondering—and he shudders, his perfect fingers shivering against her scalp, his breath so short she’s sure he’s dizzy.

One, two—

And he’s gone.

Saeyoung stands up so suddenly she almost falls backwards, a wild look in his eyes as he walks back and back till he’s touching the wall.

“Eunji,” he hisses, looking everywhere but into her eyes. “God.”

It’s not the first time he’s done this, nor the second or third. He kisses her like he’s falling then runs like he’s remembered he doesn’t know how to fly.

“Fuck,” she says, because it’s the only thing she can think to say. “Sorry.”

She doesn’t look at him. She knows the drill by now.

He will collect himself, making a joke about nothing and breathing till he sounds steady again. He’ll find work that probably doesn’t need to be done and apologize for ignoring her, waiting till she’s in bed to turn off the lights.

Three, four, five—

He stays where he is.

Eunji throws herself back onto the pillows. It’s the memory of his hands in her hair that breaks her resolve.

“Saeyoung,” she says to the ceiling. “Why don’t you want to have sex with me?”

There’s a silence: too many seconds for her to count.

“You,” he says at last. His voice sounds strange, and for a moment she thinks it’s all he’s going to say. “You think I don’t…”

She hears his ragged breathing, then another groan from the bed as he sits. She can feel his body heat from here.

“Is that what you…” The bed rocks them both as he scoots back to sit against the headboard.

She peeks at him. He looks pitiful.

“Sorry I said it like that,” she mutters. She’s already apologized so many times tonight.

“You don’t need to…”

“Is it a God thing?” She sits up, reaching for the silver chain around his neck (he shivers a little but doesn’t stop her). She untucks the cross from his shirt and runs her fingers over the polished silver. She’s never touched it before.

“No,” Saeyoung says seriously, waiting patiently for her to lay the cross back against his skin. “It’s not a God thing.” He looks into her eyes and gives her a very small smile. “You sure found a cute way to ask that, though.”

“Even if you don’t want to fuck me,” she says, “at least I’m adorable.” She means to tease rather than antagonize, but he’s got a hopeless, miserable look in his eyes.

“Please,” he stammers. “Stop saying I don’t…”

“Do you?”

She’s not an idiot, though she feels like one: she knows he’s got a million more important things on his mind, and she wishes she knew how to be soft and sweet and all the things he probably wants from her.

But she’s neither of those things.

She’s got sharp edges, haphazardly pieced together like a poorly-mended storefront after a burglary, and she needs an answer even though she probably shouldn’t even have asked in the first place.

“My god,” he sighs, shutting his eyes, laying a hand on his heart like he’s praying for patience. “How am I going to explain this to you?”

“If it helps,” she says. “I’ll be fine either way. I don’t need you to rip all my clothes off and totally wreck me. I just wish that you would.”

His eyes fly open and he makes a sound that’s neither a laugh nor a squeak, but somewhere closer to a groan. He takes a long, ragged breath and drops his face into his hands.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he mutters, voice muffled, tips of his ears redder than before. She almost feels bad for him—almost—but the way his hands shake makes her triumphant.

“You’re pretty smart,” she says, laying a hand on his knee (he almost jumps out of his skin). “Why don’t you try telling me how you feel?”

This time, she waits. She listens to him breathing—quickly at first, then slower. She counts to ten—twenty—twenty-five—thirty. He spreads his fingers and peeks at her between them.

He is the one who’s adorable.

“Okay,” he says at last, hands falling into his lap, eyes a tiny bit clearer. “You know how I like…um, chips?”

She should’ve known he’d find an analogy rather than telling her outright. She really loves him a lot.

“Yes, baby. I know how you like chips.”

“So the thing about the chips…” He gestures vaguely and she bites back a smile: an onlooker would never guess that he’s probably the smartest person in the world. “Did you know that it’s actually not so good to eat chips for every meal?”

She giggles and pokes his stomach. He half-heartedly swats her away.

“I knew that,” she tells him. He nods sagely.

“There’s a lot of reasons I’ve never eaten normally,” he says, quieter now. “One is that I’m not used to it. Another is that I really can’t cook. But the other reason is, like…”

She scoots closer so she’s facing him, gently prying his fingers apart to hold both of his hands. She loves the long scar on his right palm and the callouses covering the tips of his fingers—the sharp angle of his thumb and the way he traces the curve of her knuckles.

“It’s just that it always felt like a waste,” he says. “Why make myself eat proper meals when I was never meant to last very long, anyway?”

Whenever she thinks he’s done ripping her heart apart, he breaks it a little bit more.

She squeezes his hands too tight. He doesn’t stop her.

“Know what I thought the first time I saw you sleeping on the apartment floor?” she asks him, searching his face for some sign he thinks differently now.

He gives nothing away.

“What?”

She remembers too well: his head on his balled-up hoodie, his laptop humming loudly beside him, her poor restless heart screaming something she’d never felt about anyone before.

“I thought you were the strongest person I’d ever seen,” she says. “I thought you were beautiful. And I decided I was gonna care of you for the next hundred years.”

Saeyoung looks at her for a second that lasts a minute that lasts forever.

“That’s a really long time.” She lays both hands on her chest, and he leaves them there.

“Luckily,” she says, “I am determined, impossible to sway, and annoyingly in love with you.”

He narrows his eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. Before she can say another word, he kisses her swiftly, all hot skin and short breath and shaky hands.

“I love you too,” he whispers. “And I know you are. And it’s a metaphor.”

He’s making it incredibly hard to think straight with his lips so close and his hands on her hips. He smells the way it feels when you lay your bare skin on hot sand: burning and blindingly bright.

“Am I the chips,” she says, “or the food?”

Saeyoung laughs the bright, melodic laugh that made her fall for him in the first place.

“Are you gonna make me say it?” He looks flushed and dizzy and she wants to kiss every inch of his skin.

(She’s starting to think he might let her.)

“Tell me,” she says.

She counts his breaths and his fingers tapping her skin.

“Having sex with you scares me,” he says, “because I was never supposed to feel satisfied. People like me aren’t meant to have the things they want most.”

She knew, though she still needed him to say so.

Eunji thinks of the people she’s left behind because it was easier not to be loved—of the jobs she’s lost, the friends who won’t speak to her, the lies she told so no one would see she was scared of being alone. She thinks of her mother’s office with its black-and-white tile floor.

“It’s too late,” she tells him. “You’ve got me.”

And she kisses him, running her hands up his thighs, pressing his body back into the headboard. He growls, heady and low, and she decides she’d do anything to hear him make that sound over and over again.

His legs shake. She traces the seam of his jeans, grinning against his lips when she finds an obvious bulge straining against the inflexible fabric.

“You do want me, don’t you?” She opens her eyes to find him looking thoroughly wrecked already, pupils huge as he struggles to focus on her face.

“You have no idea,” he hisses. “I’m…all the time…”

She thinks of him in the car. His strangeness seems different now.

All those times she teased him—tickling his side, kissing his fingers, running her hands through his hair—the times he shifted in his seat and turned up the music and drove a little bit faster—

“You poor boy,” she says. “You’ve been falling apart, haven’t you?”

He starts to answer but she palms him again and he utters a string of syllables she can’t understand, hands—usually so clever—grasping helplessly at her clothes.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable,” she purrs, feeling powerful all of a sudden, fingers finding the button of his jeans. “Can I help you?”

He tries again to speak but only swallows, and she waits for an answer. She’ll wait all night if she has to—all year—the rest of her life.

“Help,” he says.

She’s really pleased she doesn’t have to wait forever.

In a matter of seconds, his jeans are undone and pulled over his hips. He groans as his cock springs free, bound only by his underwear. She wants to see it—touch it—taste it. She kisses his tip through the fabric and he makes an inhuman sound, burying his hands in her hair.

“Can I take these off?” She has never in her life been so cautious. His fingers dig into her scalp, hurting her the perfect amount.

“If you do,” he says hoarsely, “I can’t promise I’ll be coherent enough to say a whole lot afterwards.”

She runs a hand along his length, through his underwear—it’s hot to the touch, which makes her want to feel it on her skin.

“And you’re okay with that?”

She presses her lips to his base and he groans, hips twitching erratically beneath her.

“God,” he hisses. “Make me stop talking.”

She’s wanted to for ages.

He releases her hair and grasps at the sheets, knuckles going white as she tugs his pants all the way off, then lifts his underwear over his cock with quick, gentle fingers.

She giggles.

“What,” he hisses, “Don’t—why…”

She brushes his tip with her thumb and he loses the rest of his words.

“I’m sorry,” she says, stroking him gently, grinning as his hips start to shake. “I haven’t seen one of these in a while.” She feathers tiny kisses across his hipbone and his hips jerk upward, questing toward her mouth. “I like it,” she whispers. “Really, really, really.”

He mumbles something incomprehensible and she takes his cock in both hands, smiling at the sight of her colorful fingernails against his skin. He feels almost feverish, or maybe it’s her—there’s hot, desperate desire in the pit of her stomach, and she grinds against the bed, seeking out seams in her underwear for some sort of relief. His eyes are half-closed, but he makes a sort of guttural sound, so she’s pretty sure he sees.

She bends her head, tasting him with the very tip of her tongue. He squirms, gripping the sheets so tight she thinks he’s going to tear them.

She wouldn’t mind being held just like that.

She wants him in and on and around her. She wants him lucid and commanding—long-lost and desperate. She looks into his eyes and says his name and his head falls back, hips already shaking so hard she has to use both hands to hold him down.

“Do you want me to?” She’s afraid her breath against his skin will destroy him, but he’s stronger than he seems. His hands tug helplessly at her hoodie and she sits up to pull it over her head, almost yelling in frustration when it gets caught in her hair. She’s still wearing a tank top and jeans, but she doesn’t think she can make him wait any longer—his eyes are wide and wild and his chest moves with the rapid rhythm of his breath.

The sight of him makes her ache. She straddles one of his legs, rubbing against his thigh, sparks bursting behind her eyes from the friction of her panties and the look on his beautiful face.

She forgets to count the seconds.

“I want you,” he whispers.

It’s enough.

She grips his thigh with her legs and takes him into her mouth, gasping as he shifts beneath her, hips stuttering, thrusting himself deeper without any idea he’s doing it. She uses one hand to guide him and the other to hold his hips, white hot heat building inside her as she suctions her lips around him, increasing the pressure till she’s sure he can’t stand it anymore.

It’s like nothing else in the world.

She has been in love, and she’s fucked, and she’s fucked people she’s loved.

She’s been desperate before, but she’s never needed anything the way she needs to see him undone.

She takes him deeper, releasing his hips—and he’s half-fucking her mouth without meaning to, losing his sanity the way he once promised her he would. Her eyes fill with tears, but they’re wonderful ones—and she gives into the feeling, tumbling headfirst into a soft spot somewhere deep in her spirit, gasping as she realizes she’s got him at last.

He comes hard, and suddenly. It takes every thread of her fractured consciousness to open her throat so she can swallow. She takes short, frantic breaths, fingernails digging into his hips, blinding heat bursting behind her eyes.

It takes a moment—two, three—before he falls back to earth again.

She sits back, wiping her mouth, gazing hungrily down at him: he’s still got a shirt on for some reason, so she tugs at it with fingers that are almost numb from holding her breath. He mutters something, wiggles his hips, then struggles to a sitting position, lifting his arms obediently.

She wonders whether she’s stolen his words from him permanently. He blinks a few times, struggling to focus on her, beautiful eyes blown out and blurry and dark.

Then: “Not fair,” he whispers.

She can’t think of one single thing that could possibly be unfair. She brushes his hair off his forehead and tries to memorize the wasted look in his eyes.

“What isn’t, baby?”

He breathes deep, which is code for wait for me, I’ll catch up soon.

Her blood runs hot and cold. She shifts her hips against the sheets again, hopelessly tingly. He runs a trembling hand across his eyes then drops it—and when he looks at her, something has changed: his cheeks are still pink and his lips are still swollen, but his eyes are hard and hot as the very core of the earth.

“Eunji,” he says. He’s not moaning now: he speaks steadily, voice so serious she thinks she might give him the world. “Take off your clothes.”

Whatever’s come over him, it’s stealing the last of her senses. She tugs her tank top off and throws it aside.

“Wait,” he breathes. “Sorry. Was that too—you don’t have to…”

He is everything all at once: firm and strong and steady—sweet and soft and full of wonder.

“I’m getting naked either way,” she says. “But I like it better if you tell me to.”

She’s never loved anything the way she loves him now.

“I’m gonna lose my mind,” he proclaims. “This is the end for me.”

Eunji giggles. She means to put on a show but she’s overeager and uncharacteristically clumsy, stumbling as she scrambles out of her jeans, laughing as he lifts one hand to trace the shape of her bra.

“Are you gonna take this off too?” He sounds irreverent.

“If you say I should.”

Saeyoung swallows, fingertips skimming across her stomach.

“Take it off,” he whispers.

She does, unhooking it and letting it fall to the bed, grinning when his eyes grow comically wide.

“Oh,” he says. “Um, wow.”

She’s gotten pretty good responses from partners over the years, but this is by far her favorite.

“Touch them,” she says.

His warm, rough hands make her feel less jagged than usual—now, she’s dreamy and blurry, growing somehow smaller and silkier as he runs his scarred hands over her soft skin.

“How do I make you melt for me?” he asks, tracing the edges of her body with a fingertip. “Show me what to do.”

She’s only waited seventeen days for him to ask.

For weeks, she’s fallen asleep to the sound of his fingers tap-tap-tapping his well-worn keys. She’d happily swap out her beating heart and warm skin for screens and wires—anything to get him touching her.

“Here,” she says. “Feel.”

She takes his hand in both of hers, guiding him between her legs, pressing his fingers to her panties—sticky and soaked already from the way she’s rubbed against them. He swallows, huge eyes following the curve of her body down, down, down to gaze at his hand against her wet panties.

“Did I make you…” His voice is hoarse and there’s a look on his face she can’t quite read.

“It’s all you, baby.” She wiggles, feeling hot and helpless again. He hasn’t done anything yet, but the way he’s watching her is almost enough to drive her mad.

He meets her eyes and she recognizes, in a flash of delight, the expression on his face.

It’s pride.

“Where should I…how do I…”

“Touch me,” she says. “You’ll know when you get it right.”

“How will I know?” He shifts so he’s got a better angle, crooking his pointer finger and flicking it upwards. Sparks fly like soldering metal and she gasps, squirming beneath him.

“Oh,” he breathes. “That’s how.”

She’s watched him work for days on end but she’s never seen him focused the way he is now: he zeroes in on her, eyes dark and hungry—exploring her underwear, feeling for heat, listening for the subtle differences in sounds.

“Can these come off?” His clever fingers hook over the lacy band of her panties and she lifts her hips, mouthing a yes, lost in the way he’s looking at her.

She’s so raw she’s sure she’ll lose her head before he even touches her skin.

He parts her tenderly, dutifully, and then his finger finds the spot that’s already swollen, white hot and hopelessly impatient, and all of a sudden there’s no more minutes or seconds—no cracks in the sidewalk, no clouds or cars or airplanes, no wishes or dreams or fears.

“Like this,” she pants, making the motion with her own finger against his hip, and he copies her perfectly, the precision she’s seen wreck impenetrable security systems dissolving the very fabric of her existence.

She crooks her finger, brushing the skin of his leg so soft, so fast, and he mirrors her motions till she doesn’t have to guide him anymore, and time has no meaning, and she’s known him for days and weeks and years—an eternity—and she’s never wanted anything more, never lost track of the seconds, never forgotten how many miles she is from home or how many steps it would take to sprint out the door.

She can’t see straight anymore. Her vision’s clouded over and she hears the sounds she’s making like distant music in someone else’s dream, and there are no more numbers or words or rhythms, only the absolute certainty that she is alive.

“Saeyoung,” she says, unsure she’s even making sense, searching for his face through the blinding heat behind her eyes. She wants to say fuck me or you were always supposed to be mine, but the words don’t come and her hands scrabble helplessly at his hips.

Words don’t matter as much as they used to.

“Now?” She feels him shifting, sitting, and his finger’s still moving but he shakes as she grasps at his hands.

“Stay there.”

She scrambles to a sitting position, throwing her arms around his neck, giggling as the air clears and his heart hums and his breath grows shallow. He’s already hard again and his whole body shakes when she runs a hand along his length, gasping as she climbs into his lap.

She looks in his eyes—eternal like the sound of the sea, bright as the summer sun the day she ran away from home—and he nods.

He lived, he lives, he’ll live.

And then he’s inside her, hips twitching as she guides him deeper, his body rigid as he struggles valiantly to stay still. She rocks once, twice, and his fingernails dig into her waist, making her moan.

She wishes he’d cover her with marks the shape of his perfect fingers, dissolve her, devour her.

“I can’t,” he hisses, hips shivering helplessly as he tries in vain to let her set the pace. She grins into his dark, dizzy eyes.

“So don’t.”

All he needs is permission to lose control.

He lifts her off him and she lands hard on the pillows, vision narrowing to a single point as he finds his way back to her, hips bucking erratically at first and then steadier, stronger. His lips graze her collarbone—neck—ear, and when she whines he bites down, teeth sharp and solid—her favorite kind of pain.

“Do it again,” she says.

He bites her earlobe so hard the room swims before her, and she throws her legs around his waist and murmurs a million words that are something or nothing, numbers or letters or the precious sound of his secret name. She doesn’t know if her eyes are open or closed but everything’s bright stars in an endless night sky, pleasure so hot it burns her skin as he fucks her harder, faster, letting go of a lifetime of loathing and waiting and longing and hating.

There’s no need to remember someone who’s been where you’ve been—who’ll go where you’re going.

His hips stutter and she squeezes her legs and they fall together, bodies one single mass of energy hurtling through the sky at the speed of light.

He’s shaking.

Then he’s still.

She says his name once, twice, and his hands are in her hair, his body disentangling from hers, his strong arms wrapping around her waist and holding her tight.

“Fucking love you,” she mutters, lips pressed against his chest, head heavy, limbs like molten lava. He laughs and she thinks it’s the song of the stars.

“Your ears are really red,” he says. His voice is husky so she kisses his throat.

“No, your ears are red, ‘cause I make you nervous.”

She blinks till she can see his face again. He’s grinning.

“Maybe,” he says. “Yours are red because I bit them a lot. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“You can bite my ears all day long.” She smushes her face into his neck and his hands lift her hair, which was stuck to her skin with sweat.

“Right now?” He nibbles her earlobe and she squirms, still tingly all over, desperate and happy and particularly in love.

“You’re not gonna sleep on the floor anymore, are you?”

“God.” He exhales heavily, squeezing her tighter. “How’d I ever sleep before?”

“You didn’t.” She peeks at his sleepy, sweet, satisfied face, grinning at the silly look he gives her.

When she holds him, she imagines a million things.

She thinks of the good dreams she hopes he’ll have now that he’s hers—the happy ending they’re heading toward, because she’ll stop at nothing till he has everything. She thinks of the pleasure of living and the certainty of never being alone. She thinks of a hundred more years of him falling asleep in her arms.

She doesn’t count anything else tonight: not the steady sound of his breaths nor the seconds till she falls asleep—not the shapes on the ceiling nor the shadows on the floor.

Loving him isn’t numbers or patterns, rhythms or music.

It’s quiet. It’s shimmering.

It’s the sound the earth makes when your feet touch solid ground.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #cmc eunji #saeyoung x eunji #spicy spaceship #fics from my tumblr absence <3

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critrolesideblog · 3 years ago

Text

Caleb Widogast pushed his hair out of his face for the ei--nineteenth time in about as many minutes. Caleb and Essek were reading for pleasure this evening, with the aid of Comprehend Languages: Caleb the collected poems of Erdan Niemi, a famous Drow bard, and Essek, Die Waldhexe und andere Zemnische Volksmärchen. They were seated at opposite ends of one of the sofas in the tower salon, their legs in the middle not quite touching. But some time into Essek's reading, the repeated scrape of sweater against paper edge and rustle of hand in hair became too much for him to ignore.

It was a long time coming really. Essek recalled that it had been Veth who had braided back Caleb's hair for him, when they were in Aeor last. Since there was no Veth to braid it this time around, Caleb had fallen into the habit of roughly tying it back in a ponytail or bun, with varying degrees of success, depending on the amount of effort he put into it, which, lately, was middling, and tonight, none at all. There were times when the mess was charming: when Caleb shuffled into the dining room in the morning, stray locks framing his face; when he ran his hand through his hair in excitement at a new discovery; when some friendly wind caused wayward strands to brush just so against his lips. At the moment, though... Essek took a large sip of his wine and set the glass gently back on the table. "Caleb?"

"Hmm?"

Despite the response, Essek knew better than to continue right away. Caleb's head tilted up toward him slowly, but his eyes lingered on the page a moment longer. When blue finally met lilac, Essek took a deep breath breath. "May I... braid your hair for you?"

Caleb blinked once, twice, three times, before his eyebrow and lips quirked up with a humor that was a little too insightful. "Well, if it’s bothering you..."

Essek gave a huff of laughter at being caught, before pressing his hands together in front of his lips, arranging his features into a semblance of solemnity. "It is driving me insane." Caleb laughed, as Essek hoped he would.

"I apologize if I have driven you to distraction," he replied, in a voice that sounded not remotely contrite. Essek averted his eyes and took another small sip of wine to provide an alibi for the warmth in his cheeks. "Please, by all means." Caleb pulled free the tie holding his hair in place, and with a small shake of his head, the copper strands fell down around his face and shoulders.

Essek gathered his composure, clearing his throat slightly. "Excellent -- ah, Liesl?" He said quickly, turning to the tortoiseshell cat relaxing in front of the fireplace. She opened one amber eye in response.

Liesl was Essek's right-hand cat. She had been standoffish at first, it was true, but it seemed Essek's years in politics were not wasted in the ruins of Aeor. "Liesl, would you please have Jaakko fetch me some additional hair ties and a comb?" Liesl, without raising her head from her paws, turned her gaze to the cat in question, all black and slender, whose interpretation of cleaning apparently included batting a piece of crumpled paper around the legs of a desk with incredible enthusiasm. At some unseen signal, he turned his attention to Liesl, and after a series of tail twitches, trotted off into a nearby cat door. She turned her gaze back to Essek. "Thank you, Liesl. That will be all." She chirped at him in response and returned to her nap.

Caleb's eyes were back on his book now, but Essek did not recall anything in Niemi's works amusing enough to justify the grin on Caleb's face, which Essek now had an excuse to give due consideration. He did not think the braids that Verin favored in their youth would suite him particularly well, and they were a bit elaborate for a night in, besides. Perhaps just a variation on the Gwardanian-style braid Veth employed.

Jaakko returned in no time, the items required laid out neatly on a tray held aloft by his long tail, and, with one last small sip of wine, Essek rose from the sofa and moved to stand behind Caleb. He took a deep breath as he picked up the amber comb from the tray. There was no cause, he told himself sternly, for his heart to be racing as it was, which was, of course, a lie. He raised the comb above the copper strands. "I am going to begin now?"

"Ja, danke."

Whether the thanks was for the impending braid or the warning, Essek was not sure, but he drew the edge of the comb gently back along the scalp, carefully delineating a section of hair at the top of Caleb's head. He tied the sides and back out of the way, and if his face warmed at the brush of fingertips on neck, there was no one able to see it. He gathered up the hair closest to Caleb's face and divided it in thirds, before weaving the right third over the center and then left over center. He repeated the process, carefully gathering more strands in on the sides as he went. He was about halfway through with the braid, when Caleb leaned to the left without warning, nearly pulling the locks from his grasp.

"Pysy paikallasi!" Essek hissed, decades-old habit causing the words to spill from his lips in Undercommon, but it did not matter. Comprehend Languages was still in effect. "Mitä sinä teet?"

"I want some wine," Caleb explained, extending his arm to the side to demonstrate that the glass was just out reach.

"Did Veth allow you to move around when she braided your hair?"

"She never complained."

"Then she spoiled you terribly."

"Will you hand me the wine?"

"No," he replied sternly, gathering the strands into one hand, careful not to mix them up, and then leaning over and passing the goblet to its owner.

"You are a riot, Herr Thelyss," Caleb said dryly, but Essek caught a glimpse of a grin as he straightened.

"I am glad you think so. I have been thinking of taking my comedy show on the road when we are done here."

"You should ask Veth if she has any material you can use. Will there be a Mighty Nein discount on tickets?"

"Please, if anything, I should charge you all extra for the honor of heckling me."

Caleb gave a mock gasp. "The Nein? Heckle you? We would never."

"Ha! Tell me another one!"

Caleb's shoulders shook with quiet laughter.

Essek stopped gathering new hair into the top braid, braiding the remaining length of the locks together, and tying them off. He then shifted to the left and began the process again with a section starting at Caleb's left temple. From this vantage point, he could spy the gilded edges and precise black script of the book in Caleb hands (and what hands they were! Capable, as he knew, of both great destruction and healing. And, perhaps, from this vantage, he could also glimpse the stately sweep of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, the strength of his jaw, but who was to say.).

"How are you enjoying the poetry so far?" He asked, affixing his eyes firmly to the task in front of him. He had not known whether Caleb enjoyed poetry, when he gifted it to him. He had doubted, though, that Caleb had much opportunity to avail himself of Kryn literature during his time in Rosohna, and Caleb had seemed delighted, even touched, by the gift. He did not seem to be making quick progress through the text, however.

"Very much so," Caleb replied after taking a sip of wine. "I imagine I am sometimes missing some nuance or cultural context -- Comprehend Languages is a bit of a blunt instrument -- but I am enjoying it even more than I thought I would. You almost made it sound dry in your description, when you gave it to me."

"Ah, no, not dry. Only, all young Drow are forced to read his works as part of our schooling, and it colors our enjoyment of it somewhat."

"I see."

"Do you have a favorite passage so far?"

Caleb did not respond right away. "Yes..." He admitted, at last, and added, "It is from the Courtship of Lael."

Essek nearly lost his grip on the braid as he fumbled the strands mid-crossing. He had forgotten the Courtship was so early in the text. "Oh?" He asked, hoping it came across as polite interest.

"Would you like to hear it?" Caleb's voice had a softer, deeper hue than usual.

"If you like."

There was quiet for a moment.

Caleb did not turn to the page -- he did not need to. He merely cleared his throat lightly, and began:

"My lover's skin is a field of stars. What bliss to wander among the heavens! Let me approach as a pilgrim from the dark. Let me worship on my knees before the holy light. Let no beacon go without a prayer from my lips."

Every opalescent freckle on Essek's skin was now a flame. He swallowed hard. "That--that was, ah ... evocative."

"Ja, I thought so too." Caleb chuckled.

Essek tied off the left braid and moved around to the opposite side. They passed the time in quiet, as Essek's dexterous hands, having found their rhythm, made quick work on the braid on the right. And if he had a new awareness of the freckles that made fiery constellations along the slope of Caleb's neck, he gave no indication.

"You know it is a good thing you are braiding my hair up, with us going deeper into the Genesis Ward tomorrow." Caleb said at last, as Essek gathered the braids and the loose strands left over in the back up into a neat ponytail, tying it off with Caleb's original tie. There was more than a little mischief in his voice. "I should hate for Devexian to see me for the first time in months with my hair a mess."

"You are a riot, Caleb Widogast," Essek drawled.

"I'm glad you think so."

----

Notes: Pysy paikallasi! Mitä sinä teet? - Stay still! What are you doing?

#some fluff for your Sunday evening #this was originally going to involve more reflections on Essek's childhood #but Caleb had other ideas #Caleb: I'm gonna read him my actual favorite passage from this book. Me: you don't have to. Caleb: No I'm gonna #Shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shoutout to neverlain for fixing my Finnish!#my writing tag

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