#and I just. flip flop in between. so I can never really know what I’m feeling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sukunas-wife · 10 months ago

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Sealed Pt. 5

first try 😎 (5th really)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

It didn’t take long to buy what you needed, but your funds were running low. Which led you to believe it was a good time to return to the temple you had opened, immediately after opening the doors there was a line of women and children. It didn’t take long as you started to go through them all, “blessing” pregnant women and healing sick children. Grateful women who couldn’t bear children or didn’t want to lose their children were more than willing to pay any price for healing. You’d been there almost all night when you felt an all too familiar presence. Your back was to the door but you turned looking over your shoulder. There he stood, tall, pale, long black hair and black robes. You turned completely to face him, “You must be Lady Y/n of the Shrine, I’ve heard so many stories of how you… help people, I’m curious of how you do it.”

Kenjaku, those stitches on his forehead would give him away easily to anyone who had common sense. “Sorry men aren’t allowed in the Shrine, with the exception of my husband and son.”

“You have a husband and son?” His face was smiling in disbelief, you didn't trust him even if he and Sukuna had chatted more than a few times he always left an uneasy feeling in your stomach. “Yes but that’s not important , so tell me why you’re really here. I get the feeling you're not leaving so easy.” He hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “I came looking for something. You have it and I might need it. So one sorcerer to another we both know what you have that’s helping you so much, it was awakened when Ryomen Sukuna was reincarnated. Do you know who that is or did you stumble across this little artefact and decide to keep it for yourself.” You watched his hand move from his sleeve holding up one of Sukuna’s fingers. Unamused, you looked away, “Sorry to tell you the only thing I see is a rotting dismembered finger, if you're not here to benefit both of us please leave.” You tried to wave him off but persisted in following you, Morí put himself between the both of you so you didn’t bother to look back at him. “I’ll give you one warning, you give me whatever you took and I’ll leave. But if I have to take it myself-“

He was cut off feeling hot liquid run down his face, your hand held up over your shoulder, “This is your warning, there won’t be a next one.” The sound of his skull cap hitting the floor was disturbing, Morí wanted to gag at the sight of the brain exposed. “That was a mistake.” You turned around your robes ruffled noisily “No! You turning your back when RYOMEN WAS BETRAYED WAS A MISTAKE KENJAKU, your damn lucky you have that binding vow and that he never found out the truth you two faced coward, I used to think you changed bodies so frequently because you actually had a plan. It turns out you're just lowly scum and your intentions were never clear, you’re a coward and when things become difficult in one life you’d just pop someone’s else’s skull open and go for a joy ride until it’s all used up.”

You saw those Fox like eyes light up followed by that unhinged smile, “Well if it isn’t Mrs.Ryomen Sukuna, I heard the rumours you escaped the prison realm, I just couldn’t believe it.” You felt your lip twitch like you were going to bare your teeth, “Believe it, I’m free and don’t think I’m here to support your silly little flip flop grill cheese bullshit plan. I’m also not going to join your little club of misfit cursed wombs and deranged psychopaths. I’m here for Ryomen and my son, if you do anything to hurt either of them I swear on your life Kenjaku I’ll be the one pulling you out of that man’s skull and making sure you never find another life. I have my plans already and I don’t need you.” He seemed displeased, “That’s the problem here Y/n, your wedding vows can’t do a thing to break a binding vow.”

You laughed “That’s the thing Kenny, you two made a binding vow, Tyler’s say there’s this cute little red string tying to Ryomen, you can both push and pull in the same direction as long as the rope never breaks. But, what happens if a third party comes in and manages to cut that string.” Your head tilted with a passive smile, “Get out.”

————-

“Alright Mama-dori, it's time for little Itadori to go out on his own on a mission!” Gojo seemed excited about breaking this news to you. You couldn’t have given him a more bewildered look. “What do you mean on a mission?” Mori was by your side taking the cracking tea cup from your hand before it shattered over the tea table. “Think of it as a field mission … erm Lady Y/n.” Your face didn’t change much while you were staring him down, he could swear he’s seen that look before. “Where’s it going to happen…?”

He gave you a mischievous smile, “Well if I told you how do I know you wouldn’t interfere.” “If you didn't, what makes you think I wouldn’t find Yuji on my own.” Your smug smile didn’t go unnoticed. “Good luck finding us then.”

———

It didn’t take long of you spending your day at home lazing about waiting for Yuji to come back, you weren’t held captive in this dingy little house but you started to wonder if this is what Sukuna felt like now that you understood he was trapped inside of Yuji

“Mooriiiiii”….. “hm.” “MoorIIIIIIII” “I’m sorry?” “MORI.” You finally lifted your head from being laid out on the cushions on the floor, Mori sighed with a sympathetic smile, closing the book he constantly kept your records and plans in. “Yes Lady Y/n?” You rolled over laying your head on the pillow not looking at him anymore, “I miss- Yuji? Or is it your husband this time?” You fell silent huffing and burying your face into the pillow “bof” Mori shook his head with a small smile at your muffled speech. “We’ve talked about this Lady Y/n, if you do want both of them back they really do need to know the truth.” You moved around so the side of your face was on the pillow and you could just barely see Mori looking at you from the tea table, “Do you know how difficult it’s going to be to explain to Sukuna he was reincarnated into his son that he now sees he’s being held hostage in?” Mori’s eyes didn’t leave your face as you watched a ladybug crawl past you, “But he recognizes you even without your cursed presence Lady Y/n…”

Finally you sat up looking at him, “Do you wanna know a secret Morinozuka? Something almost no one else knows?” He seemed uneasy at the thought, hesitating as you continued, “I’ll have to kill you if you ever tell anyone else but do you know why I lived so long? Why don't I age? Look at us Morino, you were a child when I found you all those years ago. You’ve grown, look at me, I have the same face and appearance as the day we met.” You held your hand out to him, he took it in his looking over the back of it, he remembered your hands well. When he was a child you gave him that motherly love of wiping away his tears, he’d take your hand whenever he’d get scared walking in public. He watched you fill out every paper, he admired the way you would heal people, but he always noticed how people’s hands changed with their age, but your hands were the same as the day he met you. “You haven’t aged Lady Y/n but I can’t tell why.”

“I’m a curse Mori, there’s a beautiful story behind how I became a curse” he watched how you smiled looking at your hand, he watched a mark form over your finger, “But that’s a story for another time!” You were quick to get up, “Let’s make something to eat. I doubt Gojo’s not going to feed them so we can eat at least.”

It didn’t take long for You and Mori to throw together a hot pot with meatballs. You were serving Mori who insisted he should be serving you, “oh be quiet Mori I didn’t take care of you for years for you to take care of every little thing I do now, now eat.” He huffed and started to eat watching as you started to serve yourself, it was when you were about to eat your own meal Yuji busted into your new home excited to tell you about everything. Mori caught your food as Yuji tackled you in a hug “Mom you should’ve seen us it was so cool we…” he paused looking at the table where you had set up the pot of broth. “Oh you were eating, sorry.” You watched as he smiled sitting back on his heels rubbing the back of his head with a big shy smile. You couldn’t help but smile at him, “cmon sit I’ll serve you some if you want and you can tell us how your… field test went.” He sat cross legged beside you leaning against your shoulder rambling and stuffing his face telling you about the revolving sushi and this Girl Kugisaki he and Fushiguro met. You laughed hearing how he whined that she sighed after just looking at them. You leaned your head on his and he kept talking, you listened to every word until he eventually fell asleep in your lap.

You looked down at him, your sweet boy, until you saw that eye open up, and a mouth form, it was a soft call and out of character, “Y/n.” You looked at him, Ryomen, “Ryo…” you saw the malicious smile on his face “If this brat trusts you so much I think you could do a little talking and get me out of here don’t you?” He watched and you smiled, shaking your head, crinkling your nose, “Reincarnated not too long ago and you're already making bigger plans…” your smile fell “what the hell was that where are the women and children moving about anyways hm?”

He looked away making a “face” “I don’t know what you're talking about woman, must’ve misheard….” “Mhm.” He looked back at you before looking away, “It’s been lonely you know…” you leaned down pressing a kiss to Sukuna’s “cheek”, he didn’t bother trying to fight you, “I know it’s been lonely you’ve been locked up for centuries Ryo.” He hummed, before looking at you upset “What are you doing HERE Y/n! Why would you surround yourself with these sorcerers and this brat? Who is this brat? WHYS HES SLEEPING ON YOUR LAP!?” Yuji stirred and you rubbed his head, you should send him to sleep in his dorm, “Ryomen-“ you gave him a look, he rolled his eye, “as much as you’d hate to hear this, Yuji Itadori is our so- mm, hmm?” Yuji sat up rubbing his eyes, “What time is it?” He yawned and all you saw was Sukuna squinting at Yuji before disappearing.

“It’s 10:40 Yu,” you started to stand up, “You should go sleep in your dorm so Gojo to Fushigumi don’t freak out if you're missing.”

He laughed, “Fushigumi.” He’s gonna love that one.” He stood up from the ground stretching and yawning before he squeezed you in a hug, “Gnight mom I’ll see you tomorrow.”

————-

“Hm, it’s July… I wonder if Yuji will want to go watch the fireworks later this month…” you yawned leaning against the post on the porch of the little home. The afternoon sun shining on your face, eyes closed, head resting back against the post. Ungratefully one leg was propped up the other was swinging off the porch just barely grazing the grass, the vibrant red of your robes shining bright. The shoji doors were open wide with fly nets set up, futons were airing out for when you wanted to laze about on the porch or in the living room on the floor, Morí had gotten tired of watching you throw all the cushions in a pile just to complain when you were on the floor and the cushions wouldn’t stay still. You heard him hum still scribbling away, you looked over picking up the hand fan laying at your side, “This was my wedding fan, did you bring it?” Morí hummed again “you said bring ALL your precious belongings when we first left the temple I assumed since it was wrapped in fine linen and in a red wooden box it was preserved for a reason. Then I saw a painting in your temple and it all made sense, Lady Y/n.” You waved it around unceremoniously watching the little charms sway around, “Lady Y/n… was Ryomen Sukuna really your husband?”

“Is he really my husband" is what you mean, he still is my husband even after all these years being forced apart…” you paused looking down on the school, “…he’s my husband…surprisingly he was different then to now. I still love him regardless, he gave me his heart and I gave him mine, sure the wedding vows today would probably sound occult but I was his he was mine, it took years to be comfortable by his side and then we he’s our first child, Yuj-” Morí watched the panicked look on your face, when you pulled your sleeve up grabbing your arm where your binding vow has marked you. He watched you squeeze the muscle hissing through gritted teeth, “Yuji.” It sounded like a forced grunt. He watched you cough from trying to bear the pain, it stopped and you let go, you were visibly confused “Lady Y/n what- I don’t know” you cut him off, “that’s never happened before.” You watched as the mark became a lighter colour almost blending into your skin then you understood, “I NEED TO FIND YUJI.”

———

“….s..Go..” You couldn’t get the words out, you wanted to scream at Satoru, you wanted everyone to die and it filled the room the moment he didn’t let you enter and you forced your way in to see your son laying on the cold metal bed. He was stripped bare with a gaping hole in his chest, the woman in a lab coat and Gojo watched you walk right past them. You could still feel a faint lingering of Sukuna’s cursed energy. Your hand moved up slowly taking Yuji's. He was so cold. The hand you squeezed as a child, the tiny chubby hands that wiped your tears “It’s okay mommy!” The hands you held onto walking him to school, you shook your head, tears in your eyes, it’s always these damn sorcerers who are so prideful in what they do they try to play heroes and fix the world. Putting the lives of others at expense even if it means they’ll only save one or two people. Your hand trailed up his arm fingertips brushing over where your binding vow was disappearing. “Some proud jujutsu sorcerer you must be.” You could feel Gojo’s stare, having ignored all his rambling but knowing he was upset.

“My son is dead at the expense of what Satoru Gojo?”

Your hair fell over your face when your tears started to fall, ducking your head down feeling like your chest and shoulders were curling in on you. You placed your hand on his chest and it felt like everything changed. You weren’t in that room, you were standing in an all too familiar place.

“Oh,” you felt the heat in your cheeks rising when you heard Ryomen’s voice, “Well if it isn’t my pretty little wife finally coming to visit me hm?” He was behind you, his left arm lazily wrapped around your waist the right around your shoulder so his hand could hold your jaw, he turned your face to look back and up at him. His eyes were lidded and smiled down at you, “Ryomen…” he moved in closer, his lips ghosting over yours, “y/n.” He closed the gap kissing you, he could feel the way you broke out and smiled against his lips, it made him crack his own smile when you tried to hold back your giggles. You were so happy to be able to see him after so long, “Ryo.” You pulled away and he frowned slightly looking at you, “what- LET GO OF HER-“

All you saw was Sukuna grabbing Yuji’s fist and throwing him and sending him flying into the liquid a distance away. “Oh Yuji..”

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pedritomosquito · 2 years ago

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All Choked Up (Ch 1)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You're shooting a fight scene with Pedro that involves choking--you know where this is going.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: ~4.1k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, thigh riding, choking, handy, general steaminess

You had been called in for more shooting after working for a month on The Last of Us as various clickers. You were going to be doing another fight scene, but this time as your normal human self. Wardrobe had just finished with you and one of the PA’s was escorting you to set to be approved by Craig and Jeremy. It looked like they were in between takes of a scene with Joel and Ellie. Pedro and Bella were both sitting on set pieces, laughing and sipping at water.

Craig and Jeremy are crowded around a monitor with several other producers watching the latest take. The PA introduces you and suddenly all of them turn around, examining you. Craig greets you.

“Great to see you again! Thank you for joining us.”

You have to hold in a laugh, because ‘thank you for joining us’? As if you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into fucking LA traffic to be here?

“Thank you for having me,” you smile instead.

At the sound of your voice, you see Pedro perk up out of the corner of your eye. You pretend not to notice his gaze.

“This looks great,” Craig approves. “Can I see it without the scarf?”

The PA unties your neck gaiter.

“Yes, perfect,” He nods. “Thank you Jennifer,” He dismisses the PA and sends you on your way, “See you on set!”

Interesting costuming detail for Craig to be so particular about, but whatever. The PA starts to usher you back towards the wardrobe department.

You hear Bella call your name and you turn, giving them a happy wave. Pedro gives you a wave too.

“Tomorrow–You, me?”” You playfully point between him and yourself, “we’re squarin’ up!”

“No way!” Pedro replies, looking dare you say excited to hear the news that you’d be working together.

“See you at rehearsal!” You call as you slip out the door.

—--

The next day you have stunt choreography for the fight scene in the evening. You dress in a cute matching Lululemon knock off set and report to the rehearsal studio on the lot. The three stunt coordinators are there to greet you and you stretch out until Pedro arrives.

He’s in a tight workout t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Not the gray sweatpants dear LORD.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” one of the coordinators teases, “And ten minutes late, no less!”

“Fuck off, Phillip,” Pedro laughs as he approached, “I’m old and I’m tired.”

“That’s your excuse every day,” You prod.

“Well it’s true every day,” Pedro complains.

“Ready to beat the shit out of each other?” You smirk.

His laugh makes your stomach flip flop.

“Absolutely.”

The stunt coordinators demonstrate the choreography first and you have to make sure your jaw doesn’t hit the floor.

Your character stands yielding a prop knife and his character rushes at you, grabbing your arms. You struggle like that for a beat before the knife gets knocked out of your hands. He keeps his grip on one of your arms as he punches you across the face, then shoves you back up against the wall. Both of his hands come up to your neck and you fight against him until you pass out and he drops you on the floor.

You have always been on your best behavior around Pedro. The poor guy has women thirsting after him at every turn and you don’t want to add to his suffering. You have your own private thoughts about him–many of them not PG rated. But you are there to do a job, to be a professional. You never really allow yourself to entertain any of those thoughts beyond simple fantasy.

But he is about to choke you against a wall.

That alone has you entertaining several new thoughts.

“Alright, how do you guys feel about that?” Phillip asks.

Pedro just nods with a small “great.” He does this stuff pretty much every day so you’re sure none of it phases him.

Phillip looks to you and you must be a bit too wide eyed.

“You look a little uncomfortable,” Phillip notes kindly, inviting you to speak.

Pedro’s concerned expression knocks the wind out of you.

“No, no,” You assure them, “It just looks amazing and I’m hoping I wasn’t padding my resume when I said I had stage combat experience.” You give a little giggle to sell it and god bless being an actor because they all buy it.

“No worries, you definitely got this,” Phillip assures you.

Phillip had not been lying–you pick up the sequence just fine. When it comes time to run the fight with Pedro, you are feeling confident about the choreography but not much else. You mark through it, slowly going through each motion to practice.

You’re pretty sure you black out when he slides his hands under your chin. He is slow and careful and he barely even makes contact with your throat but just the idea, the notion that he could so easily, makes your insides scream.

He eyes you closely making sure you are okay. You feel safe. Somehow that makes it even worse.

You go through some notes and run it one more time slowly before kicking it up to full speed.

The intensity of doing it in real time causes an adrenaline storm. Pedro’s hands are all over you, all power and tight gripped. You desperately hold it together so you won't forget what you’re doing.

The way your back hits the padded wall forces the air from your lungs. Before you can even get a breath in, Pedro’s inches away from your face, hands around your neck. Heat spreads across your cheeks all the way down to your chest. You are sure the shock is written all over your face and you swear Pedro’s eyebrows furrow just a fraction. You take the moment of embarrassment as a good cue to drop to the floor out of his grip.

“That looked great!” Phillip approves, “How did that feel?”

You nearly choke on your spit at the question.

“Good,” you manage to squeak.

You catch Pedro side eyeing you and force yourself to look anywhere else. You bend over and fiddle with your shoelace out of sheer desperation to hide your face.

“Yeah,” Pedro echoes, “Good.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and want to leap out the window.

“Alright, let’s go full out this time,” Phillip says, “Add the acting, the drama, I want it all. Let’s take it from the line before so we can get the timing down.”

You and Pedro square up, getting into position.

“I’m not going down easy,” You play with a quirked eyebrow.

“Bring it,” He challenges.

You both slip into character and you raise your knife.

—-

“Great work, guys!” Phillip chimes, “See you on set tomorrow.”

“You drive here?” Pedro’s voice appears next to you.

“Yep,” You reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and pushing open the door. The cool night air glides a chill down your arms.

“Let me walk you to your car,” He offers, “ I just need to grab my stuff.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, that’d be—that’d be great,” You stumble over the words with a smile.

It’s a short walk to his trailer

“What’s been your favorite project you’ve worked on?” He asks.

“I always thought it couldn’t get any better than Mandalorian but honestly I think this show might be my new favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, everything on this show feels so… real. Mando was all soundstages and green screens. Last of Us really feels like we’ve been dropped into an apocalypse,” You explain before cautiously adding, “And I’ve gotten to work with you a lot more.”

“You like working with me, huh?” Pedro asks as he playfully bumps his shoulder into yours, the shadow of a teasing tone in his voice.

You can’t find words for a moment, pausing with your mouth parted. You might as well put all your cards on the table. “Yes,” you finally reply with a small laugh, “I do.”

You can safely toe the boundary of friendship here. You figure he wouldn’t read into it if he wasn’t interested.

Wait. Are you interested? Oh fuck. Of course you’re interested.

Pedro pauses for a fraction of a moment as you arrive at the trailer, looking at you. Before you can say anything, he pulls open the door and holds it for you. You climb inside and he brushes past you as he enters.

“When you showed up here on set,” He says, “I was really happy to see you again.” He sits down on the cream colored loveseat.

So he isn’t just ‘grabbing his stuff’ after all, you guess.

You join him, trying to remember how to sit like a normal human being.

“I thought you were lying when you said you remembered me,” you reply honestly.

“God no,” Pedro chuckles. His gaze on you intensifies, flitting down your body for a moment, his voice dropping a bit lower. “Couldn’t forget you if I tried, sweetheart.”

You suck in a quiet breath. Your mind begins to swim in the suddenly thickening air. How has he managed to make himself so clear in just a single uttered sentence?

He seems to search your face. You realize he’s looking for reciprocation . This isn’t the time to toe the limit at all–it’s the time to cross the line entirely.

The line between colleagues is drawn for good reason, you try to remind yourself. But all logic dissolves in the simmering heat of how he watches you from the other end of the couch.

Fuck the line. What line? Never heard of one.

You switch on a new part of yourself, cocking your head.

“You aren’t too forgettable yourself,” You reply with a soft smirk, making sure to regard every inch of him.

That is all it takes from him to start closing the gap between you, stopping just inches away. He reaches out and slides your bag off your shoulder in slow motion. You stay frozen as it thuds to the floor. The way his eyes never leave you makes your breathing pick up.

“You can leave right now, I won’t hold it against you,” He says quietly, “We can go back to before and I will never try this again.”

You can’t imagine a worse fate. You shake your head desperately.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, eyes glued to yours.

“I want you ,” You whisper.

His lips easily find yours as you feel a hand lace into your hair and another around your waist. The softness of his lips makes you forget to set yourself into motion, too busy melting into it. You finally remember to reach for him, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the side of his neck. You splay your fingers over his bare skin, brushing a thumb against the stubble on his jaw.

His fingers graze over your scalp as he gently grips a handful of your hair. It makes your jaw fall open and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt to pull him closer.

His hand travels up the center of your chest, curving over your collarbone and back down your side.

He is either being a tease or far too respectful.

You take his wrist and guide him to the bottom hem of your tank top, sliding his hand underneath until his fingers come to the elastic of your sports bra. You pull the spandex up out of the way.

His fingertips skate lightly over the bare skin before he cups you, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You whine against his mouth, arching into his touch. Your head tips back and he kisses down your neck before returning to your mouth. His lips become more insistent, the pressure of his hands roaming your body more firm. You shift to pull your leg up under you on the couch, needing to get closer to him. He untangles his hand from your hair and does you one better, reaching down, grabbing your ass and pulling you into his lap until he has you hovering over him, his knee between yours.

You pull off your tank top and your sports bra.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Pedro murmurs breathlessly as he attaches his mouth to your nipple.

“Fuck,” The word punches out of you and your hands fly into his hair. His mouth is all heat, tongue working in circles and flicks. You imagine his face between your legs doing the same and you shudder at the mere thought.

He grabs your hips and speaks against the skin of your chest.

“Sit.”

He pulls you down firmly onto his thigh.

“Good girl.”

A gasp helplessly escapes your lips and he has you all figured out. He fails to suppress a smirk and you have half the mind to admonish him, but any attempt is interrupted by his mouth returning to your tit.

He guides your hips to grind against him. The feeling of your wet leggings sliding over his sweatpants drags against your clit just right. You whimper against his temple. He tugs your hips forward again as he flexes his thigh into you and your whimper becomes open mouthed, a moan buried in his hair.

Your hips start to roll on their own accord, chasing down the friction.

“That’s it,” He says softly, licking up your chest, “Make yourself feel good, pretty girl.”

You let out a stilted sigh, dropping your head and sucking the skin beneath his jaw. You reach your hand down and press over the crotch of his sweats. You inhale sharply when you feel him already hard underneath your palm.

“You know how hard it was to control myself, hm?” He questions, voice strained as he pushes himself up against your hand, “Keeping everyone from seeing how much I loved having you pinned up against that wall?”

“ God , that was good acting,” you moan.

“Yours needs some work,” he taunts, “‘Could see it all over your face, querida. Bet you were wet for me, weren’t you?”

“Whole time,” you nod desperately.

He drags his fingers up your chest and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Oh fuck,” tumbles from your mouth.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? My hand wrapped around your throat like this?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Fuck, keep talking,” you beg, moving faster in his lap.

“You like the sound of my voice, huh?” He prods, “Like it when I tell you how good you are while you fuck yourself on my thigh?”

You only nod with a whine, reaching under his waistband and taking his cock in your hand. You nearly whine again when you feel how thick he is.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening just a bit around your throat.

The squeak he receives from you in response is equal parts innocent and filthy.

He uses his free hand to shove his pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his cock in your fist.

You pump him slowly, watching the precum leak from his slit. You release him, pausing your own movement to dip your hand into your panties. You slide two fingers into yourself, gathering your wetness, and return to his length.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, his words trapped in the back of his throat as you wrap your slick hand around him. His hand tightens on your neck and he thrusts up into your hand, jolting you back into your own rhythm.

Your free hand is slipped under the neckline of his shirt, placed on his chest to steady yourself. The skin there is firm and radiating heat. You can feel his heart beating as fast as yours against your palm.

“You gonna cum like this?” He asks, “Such a needy girl, making a mess on my thigh?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, god yes,” you babble. You’d say yes to practically anything he could ask of you right now, anything to stay in this moment.

Every word he speaks, every shift in his touch drives your fist around him faster.

“ Fuck you feel so good,” He says through gritted teeth, hand now trailing down your throat, curling his fingers to skim his nails over your delicate skin, “Doing so good for me.”

“Please, please, Pedro–” you blindly plead.

He squeezes his hand, tightening the grip on your neck. It’s hardly enough to affect your breathing, but it fuels the tension growing in your hips all the same. Your motions begin to stutter.

“That’s it, querida,” He hums, “That’s it.”

“I’m gonna–” your stutter, “I’m gonna cum.”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and every bit of air deserts your lungs.

“I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

Pure heat sparks and sets you ablaze, flames rolling down your body as you cum, cries forced from you.

“ Good girl , there it is. That’s a good girl,” He grinds out the words, pushing himself harder up into your fist. “Fuck, that’s it, fuck ,” A strangled noise catches in his throat, stripes of white painting your hand and his shirt as you ride out your high.

You lean forward to collapse against him, pressing your head to his shoulder, and you both try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, fingers absently tracing over you back.

“Thank you,” you sigh.

“ Thank you ?” He nearly giggles, “Jesus Christ, all I did was sit here!”

“Then you’re welcome,” you breathe, “Like, very, incredibly, definitely welcome literally any time.”

His laughter bounces against your chest.

“Don’t go making offers that are too good to be true, now,” he warns, and you can feel his grin against the side of your neck, “I can’t take the heartbreak.”

So you’re not the only one who wants this to be more than a one time thing. Fuck yeah.

“Any. Time.” You repeat, whispering in his ear.

——-

Coco is setting up her station next to Stephanie and Jess for the afternoon. The hair and make up department is an integral part of The Last of Us because of the extensive clicker-fication process. Coco always jokes with Pedro that she has the easiest job out of everyone–make a man, who is already gorgeous, gorgeous. Not much to do there, just upkeep on Pedro’s gray hair and ensuring he’s grimy enough for an apocalypse.

You walk into the room bundled in a scarf and find Jess’s chair, greeting her. You had never met before and you were a little nervous. Coco, on the other hand, you’d talked to a few times.

“Okay, so, I might have screwed up a little ,” You admit to Jess, immediately piquing the curiosity of the women around you. You were about to make Jess’s job a bit harder.

“Oh?” Jess says.

“So, um, I get uh–strangled, in the scene we’re shooting today so there’s going to be a lot of focus on… my neck…” You preface hesitantly.

Coco whirls around.

“You didn’t,” She gasps, scandalized.

You grimace apologetically as you unwrap your scarf.

“I did.”

There’s no way they could possibly know that Pedro put the hickey blooming dark purple on your throat unless they’re mind readers, but still. You’re paranoid that somehow everyone will know what you did last night with Pedro.

Could see it all over your face, querida.

“You have girl bossed too close to the sun,” Coco shakes her head while Jess and Stephanie giggle.

You cover your face with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess laughs, “You’re hardly the first actor to need some hickey cover up. Happens all the time–we’ll get you fixed up.”

Jess does an excellent job as promised and your neck looks pristine.

You thank her endlessly and slip out the door to go to wardrobe.

Just a moment later, Pedro speeds into hair and make-up, greeting Coco and plopping down in her chair.

“I need a bruise covered up,” he says simply.

“How’d you hurt yourself this time, old man?” Coco asks.

“Uh, it’s not exactly that kind of bruise,” he replies sheepishly. He pulls down the turtle neck he’s wearing, revealing the hickeys he’s sporting up his neck.

Coco, Stephanie and Jess all exchange a look. Stephanie is desperately trying to suppress a smirk and Jess has to turn away to contain herself.

You and Pedro are none the wiser that you’re totally busted.

“ Pedro ,” Coco scolds him playfully.

“I know, I know,” he sighs.

“Pass me that concealer, Jess?” Coco asks, “We’d better get started. This might take a while since someone decided to sell his body last night.”

“Oh shut up,” Pedro waved her off with a bashful chuckle, “Vete a la chingada.”

“Pedge, I’m immune to your spanish insults. I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Allow me to translate: fuck. off.”

“Never.”

—————-

You're sitting on the sidelines of the set, absently going over your script and blocking.

“Hello you,” a low voice rings next to you.

A smile climbs onto your lips and you keep your attention on the pages.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you chime.

“Come here often?”

You giggle, finally looking up at him, but your breath is stolen. God , he looked so good as Joel.

“Querida, your face,” he chuckles, “we talked about this.”

You pause for a moment and realize what he’s implying. You must be blushing. Or drooling.

“I have no idea how I have an acting career,” you murmur.

He’s laughing and you can’t help but be reminded of a ray of light. He’s like a bright beam, reflected and refracted into a spectrum of color, streaking boldly across a sunlit room. Maybe you didn’t understand how someone could be ‘beaming’ until now.

He looks like he almost starts to reach out to touch you, maybe tuck a stray hair behind your ear or place a hand on your waist, but he aborts the movement.

Phillip approaches you and you break from your trance.

“Hey guys!” He greets, “how about a quick dry run fight before shooting?”

“Sounds good,” Pedro nods as you agree.

Someone from the props department appears with your fake knife and you thank them.

You do a slow motion run through, making sure the spacing and blocking is perfected for the set pieces around you.

The full speed run is just as intense as the first time you had tried it the night before. You’re panting on the floor by the end, and Pedro extends a hand to help you to your feet. You look up at him from underneath the fan of your lashes and he stares down at you all the same.

“Alright you definitely have the choreography down!” Phillip sings his praises and declares you both ready for filming.

“We’re going to start shooting in just a minute here,” Craig informs the room.

Jess is there, coming over to touch up your make up one last time and the guy from props reappears, returning the discarded knife back to you.

“You and Pedro have us sharing the good setting powder,” Jess laughs to herself, taking some onto her brush before Coco steals the container with a smile as she passes by.

It hits you all at once.

You left hickeys all over Pedro last night, didn’t you? You look over and see Coco brushing the powder over the side of his throat.

“ Jess, ” Your eyes are blown wide.

She pauses, regarding you with confusion for a moment until the realization appears on her face.

“Oh! Don’t worry, we’ll never tell. Makeup artists take an oath of secrecy,” She explains. “ However ,” She adds, “I am living vicariously through you. Just full transparency.”

“Fair,” you reply a bit distantly, still watching Pedro.

—-

Coco goes over to Pedro and starts on her final touch ups.

“You know,” she says quietly after a moment, “The weirdest thing happened earlier.”

“Yeah?” Pedro asks, suspicious of her playful tone.

“Yeah,” she replies, “A minute before you came in asking us to cover up your hickeys, your scene partner came in needing the same thing.”

“That is… quite a coincidence…” He agreed slowly.

“I’m glad one of us had sexcapades last night,” she assured him, “all I did was watch tv.”

“Please never say ‘sexcapade’ ever again,” Pedro muttered.

“Look, if you’re going for subtlety–tone it down,” She advises, “You look like you’re about to jump each other’s bones, not kill each other.”

“Fuck, it’s that obvious?” He asks.

She just replies with raised eyebrows and a smirk. “But–hey,” she says sincerely, “Good for you, Pedge. You deserve it.”

“Stop–” He swats her away with an embarrassed smile, “Making me blush. Joel doesn’t blush.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” She pats him on the back before leaving.

A/N: Tell me what you liked most! I wanna know what my beloved slutty lil readers enjoy!

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal smut #fanfiction #tlou

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justalia · 1 year ago

Text

anxiety? read this

the reason why i decided to write this is because i’ve been getting the same question multiple times and i feel like there’s a need to dive deep into this issue.

anxiety in the state of the wish fulfilled

the questions i get are:

“idk why but i’m anxious when i get in the state, is it normal?”

“how do you deal with anxiety while in the state?”

“why am i anxious when i imagine my wish fulfilled?”

lucky for you i’m here to clear these doubts.

short answer:

if you’re anxious when imagining your wish fulfilled then you’re not in the state.

long answer:

now let me preface this by saying that emotions do not manifest but can arise based on which state you are in.

we all say that emotions don’t matter at all because it simply shouldn’t be your focus to feel “positive” emotions all the time, BUT with your state changing you can feel different emotions.

what is a state explained in simple words?

it is a concept of yourself, an experience, a reality you want to experience.

with this knowledge tell me why imagining yourself to be who you really want to be and believing that to be true would arise any anxiety within you.

quickly!

tell me why something you so deeply want being fulfilled, true, realized would arise anxiety within you.

it simply shouldn’t.

when you step into the state and imagine yourself to be who you want to be, believe it to be true and then anxiety starts immediately it means you haven’t actually accepted that concept of yourself to be true.

if you had you would probably feel something similar to relief, satisfaction, bliss accompanied by a confidence in knowing you now are who you want to be and have what you want to have.

anxiety and fear do not belong to the state of the wish fulfilled simply because they belong to the opposite of it: you’re anxious if you don’t know for sure if your desire is yours, you fear if you don’t know for sure your 3D is gonna reflect.

anxiety and fear are born when you don’t internalize the law and doubt it.

anxiety and fear go hand in hand with doubt.

your anxiety stems from the same place that peace comes from, you are the cause of it. you feel anxious because you think something outside is happening, something else outside of you can happen and take your desire away.

how do you deal with this “problem”?

the solution is very simple, almost so simple that your logical mind won’t allow you to accept such a thing.

the only reason why you experience anxiety is because you have not accepted your true identity.

you may think you are believing it is true but you are not accepting it as fact.

you are lying to yourself if you say you accepted it as fact but then you go and look for it, you doubt it, you feel anxious, you worry about what’s gonna happen and how you’re gonna react if the opposite shows up.

only acknowledging the opposite as a possibility is showing you which state you are in.

i feel like most of you focus on states because it looks like a method you can use to manifest but you never actually acknowledge your true identity. you don’t take your time to understand who you truly are and without acknowledging and accepting your true identity you will continue to flip flop between states.

states are not a method, you don’t choose to use states. states are all there is, states of consciousness is what the world is.

different states of consciousness are different experiences you can have within, and as within so without.

states are experiences you are consciously choosing to live in imagination. whether these experiences be good or bad you need to understand that imagination is all there is, you are always living in a world of imagination.

every single experience you have/want is just a state.

without being clear on who you really are you will continue to doubt and reason your way into manifestation and eventually you’ll be finding yourself in what seems to be a never ending cycle of trying and self-sabotaging, filled with doubt, fear, anxiety and worry.

you put your 3D world on such a high pedestal (i’m not blaming you) and you don’t believe to be who you really want to be because you are “only” imagining it.

i say that i don’t blame you because i know this new way of behaving and reacting and thinking is the exact opposite of what we have always been thought:

the physical world is reality, therefore something is real only if you physically see it

we don’t know why and how things happen to us

we need to work hard to achieve what we want

be “realistic” the world of the senses is factual

it seems so unnatural to think that WE are the CAUSE of everything, that things happen TO us and not THROUGH us.

it seems so unnatural to dismiss the physical world as basically fake and not take as fact what other people tell you.

i know it seems unbelievable but it isn’t.

it simply isn’t and you can prove it to yourself by looking back at your life experiences, you can see how everything came from imagination first, you can see how you’re always trusting your opinion over anything. you can see it so clearly and when you see it you will feel extremely dumb for not believing it.

your true identity

i ALWAYS talk about this, every answer i give you when you ask me something includes this basic information but i’m not sure you take it as seriously as i want you to take it.

there’s is no other world outside of imagination and there’s is no other self outside of imagination.

you fear because you think in terms of separation: you think theres some other cause outside of you making things happen and you think that the outer world is separate from imagination, you believe 3D and 4D to be separate.

i want this to be the only time you need something outside of you for validation, i want this to be the last post you read to check if you’re “doing it right”, i want this to be the last realization you need.

there is no inner man AND outer man, there’s only the inner man in imagination living inside of a flesh body.

you are not your flesh body (yes, this is why you can change your appearance), you are not your brain (this is why there’s no such thing as making neural pathways or convincing/reprogramming your subconscious), you are not your mind (this is why thoughts don’t manifest), you are not your state (this is why you can jump in and out of states and why you can’t be stuck in a state), you are not your emotions or feelings (this is why you NEED to let out your emotions and not be mad at yourself for whatever reaction you had).

you are pure consciousness, you are I Am.

you are all imagination and imagination is all there is, the world of the senses has no choice but to mimic imagination, it has to, there is NO OTHER CAUSE.

if you’re the inner man living in imagination always and imagination is the only creator/only reality there’s no way that what you declare to be yours isn’t fact.

whatever happens in imagination is a fact, the problem is that we have been thought to dismiss imagination as fiction and contaminate our states with the world of the senses forgetting that we created the physical experience.

the senses are mimicking imagination and unless you accept imagination as the only creator of physical experience you will not be able to let go of doubts and reasoning. you will continue to worry and wonder “is it enough?” “is it really true?” you won’t take it seriously.

unless you truly understand that you are a figment of god and all you have to do is decide that that’s yours now, that’s who you are now you will continue to go back and forth between the state of having and the state of not having.

imagination is your creator and you just need to truly internalize that you can have what you want because everything in this world is your creation whether you believe it or not.

don’t start to wonder if it’s right to just declare something as yours, if you’re worthy of it, because all that you are experiencing is your creation. everything is created by you.

by actually understanding that everything is your creation you will stop wondering about what you should or shouldn’t do based on other people’s judgment, you stop thinking things “oh maybe it’s not right to manifest my sp, why would i force anything on them? it’s not right.” because you created them not wanting to be with you in the first place.

you are not changing anyone or forcing anything on anybody. everything was created by you and if you don’t like it you have the power and the right to change it because this is your life, this is your reality, why would you choose to experience something you don’t want if you can experience something else?

there’s nobody outside of you and you don’t have to ask permission to have what you want, you give it to yourself.

you are always fulfilling yourself with something, you are always assuming things to be true so instead of perpetually being fulfilled with not having your desire why don’t you just accept it is yours now?

the concept of time doesn’t exist outside of you, future and past only exist in your mind and when you imagine you need to remove the concept of time and only worry about experiencing it now.

when you fear what’s gonna happen tomorrow it’s because you think there’s something outside of you causing things to happen.

see how just knowing your true identity solves all of your problems?

there is NOTHING other than imagination causing stuff to happen, NOTHING!!! get this inside your little head and accept that the 3D is dead and powerless. it can’t do anything to you, it’s not your enemy it’s only adjusting according to you!

you can’t be in the state and expect something opposite to happen, it means you haven’t accepted the new state as fact.

tomorrow is shaped by who you are being now!

so why worry about tomorrow if the cause of tomorrow is who you are now?

why worry about the future if the cause of it is who you are being now?

enjoy being the person who has their desire right now because that’s all you can do. enjoy being it now.

enjoy being financially stable now.

enjoy being in a relationship now.

enjoy being loved now.

enjoy being beautiful now.

enjoy being intelligent now.

because it is true, you really are it, you really have it.

don’t “pretend”, don’t think you have to trick yourself into believing it has expressed physically because that’s not your job, your job is to dismiss the 3D as not real because even your manifestation materialized won’t give you anything you didn’t give to yourself first.

you don’t have to trick yourself into believing it is physically here, you have to understand that invisible reality it’s what’s real and you don’t need to give a meaning to the 3d which is only mimicking imagination.

the 3D is only mimicking the feeling of having you are feeling.

learn to accept a new truth, new ideas of you to be true and don’t fight the old state when it tries to come back, learn to be indifferent by accepting a new truth in its place.

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ilongfor-the-arts · 2 years ago

Note

A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.5k

An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.

Was that my alarm?

No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.

I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.

“Shit!”

I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.

Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.

When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.

“Yes!”

The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.

I rolled my eyes.

Of fucking course.

With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.

“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”

I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.

“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”

Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.

“Lip, what time is it?”

I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.

“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”

There was rustling from the other end of the line.

“It’s 9 oh 3.”

I cocked a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”

Rustling.

“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.

“Left to right, at least in English.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”

Rustling.

“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”

I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.

“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”

“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”

He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.

I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.

“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”

Silence.

“Uh-that’s another great question…”

His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.

“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”

I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.

“Uh-I don’t know the address.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”

I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”

I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.

“Are you at Christian’s house?”

“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”

I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.

“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”

“Perfect.”

I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.

Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.

It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.

That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.

I giggled. He looked lost.

I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.

“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”

I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.

“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”

Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.

“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”

I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.

“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”

I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.

“Jesus Lip!”

I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.

“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”

I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.

Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.

I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.

“Lip.”

The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.

“Yes?”

I grinned.

“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”

“I got it.”

Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.

“This isn’t my house.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”

Lip squinted, still not convinced.

“Oh!”

His eyes widened as his face relaxed.

“Yeah, I remember now.”

We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.

“Are your roommates home?”

I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.

“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”

“Where did they go?”

“They went… to- somewhere.”

Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.

I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.

“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”

I reconciled.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.

I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.

“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”

I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.

“Wait…”

He said meekly.

I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.

“Come here.”

With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.

His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.

I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.

“Come closer.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.

“Closerrrrrr.”

He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.

Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.

The air hitched in my throat.

“Lip!”

I exclaimed.

Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.

“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”

Lip chuckled against my skin.

“Maybe.”

He mumbled.

“No, not maybe, definitely.”

His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.

“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”

I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.

“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”

His tone was sultry.

How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?

Smug bastard.

“I-“

I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.

“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”

He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.

He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.

I shuddered.

My knees began to shake.

Jesus.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.

“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”

I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.

“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“

His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.

“Lip, we’re friends-“

“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”

He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.

Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.

No.

Hell no.

“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”

I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.

“No?”

He asked with a sarcastic pout.

“Maybe another time.”

I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”

He asked smugly.

“Yes, you did.”

Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.

“Will you stay with me?”

I chuckled.

“What are you, seven?”

Lip groaned, his eyes shut.

“No-I’m at least 10.”

Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.

Until tonight.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Love ya Y/N.”

His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.

“Love you too Lip.”

Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.

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mediumgayitalian · 9 months ago

Text

“Woah, hey, I wanna try.”

Nico startles at the voice, tiny bone falling from his hand and sinking back into the dirt.

“Aw.” Beat-up flip-flops slow to a stop right next to him, and Will plops himself down. He shoots a bright, too-wide smile in his direction, eyes crinkling. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Nico says warily, subtly inching away. Will, either oblivious or uncaring to his intention, just leans in closer, blue eyes watching him intently. “…What are you doing here?”

“Hanging out with you. Duh. How did you do that?” He points to Nico’s hands.

Confused, Nico re-summons to the squirrel femur, dragging up the rest of the skeleton too. It chitters to life, nosing at the sliver of bare knee out from Nico’s ripped jeans, before bounding over to Will. He doesn’t even flinch, laughing as the little thing scampers up his arm and rests in his hair. Nico’s mouth twitches.

“I don’t actually know? I guess I can do it the same way you can heal. It kind of just happens, I can’t really teach you.” He pauses, squinting. “Unless…necromancy is healing, technically. Can you do necromancy?”

Will shakes his head, wincing as one of the squirrel’s ribs gets catches a curl of his hair, tugging it as it moves. “No, the other thing. The spinny thing.” He gestures towards Nico’s hands, wiggling his own in explanation. “With the — bone.”

“Oh! Oh, that.”

Closing his eyes, Nico lays his palm flat on the packed dirt, feeling around under it. He can’t see it, exactly, but he can feel buried things the same way you might feel the air shift when someone comes in an empty room. Things take up space, and there’s a record of that you can feel. Nico’s ability just extends underground, and bones, especially, are like someone entering a room loudly. He’s directed to them almost automatically.

He feels around until he gets pulled towards another buried dead. A mouse, this time, or at least a part of its skeleton. Nico leaves it. The bones are too small for his purposes.

He keeps searching until he finds a raccoon’s ulna — perfect. He drags it up, patient as it worms its way around rocks and through clay and even, notably, a snake’s burrow, and finally breaks through the surface, right up into his waiting palm. He taps it twice on the ground, shaking off the excess dirt, then poises it deftly in between his right middle and pointer figure.

Then, aware of Will’s intense gaze on him, he starts to fiddle with it.

So fast the movement looks fluid, he passes the thin bone along his deft fingers; in, out, in, out. He bends it under his hand back into the looped curve of his pointer finger when it reaches his pinky, starting the cycle all over again. The bone makes tiny swishing sounds as cuts through the air.

“Woah,” Will breathes, eyes wide, pupils wider. “That’s so cool.”

Nico shrugs, embarrassed. “It’s just — twirling. It’s not hard.”

“It’s like the bone is moving itself, though! That’s so sick!”

Nico has never had anyone look so — delighted at him, before, at his magic. Not that this even counts — he did this with sticks, when he was a kid, with pencils. It’s just a fidget, but Will grins at him like Nico’s turning straw into gold.

“I can — show you, if you like.”

Will cheers, scooting somehow closer. Their knees touch, and Nico has to bite down a gasp; somehow, even that touch is hot, even through his jeans he feels like he’s been shocked. His hands, too, under Will’s intensive, determined scrutiny, start to tingle.

“Extend your middle finger up, a little, like you’re trying to cross it over your pointer. No, don’t actually cross it, just — here. Let me.”

He grabs Will’s hands before he can think about it, and he regrets it; the contact makes it suddenly hard to breathe. He forces himself through it, breathing through gritted teeth, and places Will’s fingers the right way.

“Your heart rate’s way off,” Will comments. “You’re also producing an excessive amount of adrenaline and cortisol. You okay?”

Nico bites back a curse. Damn vitakinesis.

“I’m fine,” he grits out.

“If you say so.”

He rushes through the end of his explanation, practically flinging the bone in Will’s direction and throwing himself away, making sure there’s a healthy stretch of space between them when he sits back down.

“You try.”

Will shifts, eyes narrowed on the poised bone. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth in focus, just barely, and Nico has to beat back his thoughts with a mental battering ram. The squirrel skeleton, still sitting on Will’s head, rattles as if laughing at him.

I’ll give myself a lobotomy. I will. Do not test me.

“I got it!”

He glances back down at Will’s cry, accidentally meeting his eyes — blue, blue, gods, they’re so blue, is that an Apollo thing? First the sunrise-coloured hair, then sky-eyes? Apollo’s eyes are brown, usually. Blue only when he feels like it. Why are Will’s so identical to the heavens, then? Why do they seem to take up half his face, they’re so constantly wide, constantly watching? Attention everywhere, all the time, like everything is worth looking at, committing to memory. They go near black, when the sun sets, they get so dark. Mirrors of the night sky. That can't be mortal.

Sure enough, the ulna weaves through Will's fingers — clumsy, stuttering, not as fluid as Nico, but the foundations are there — successfully.

"Good job."

The answering smile could light up the Earth in an eclipse. Nico feels sunburnt.

"I gotta go show off to Kayla and Austin!" Ulna tucked in his ear like a pencil, he reaches up a hand, waiting for the squirrel, despite not having an olfactory system, to sniff his palm, deem it safe, and crawl in. "Come on, Sammy. Thanks, Nico! You're the best!"

"Sure," Nico mumbles. He watches him run off, cradling the little squirrel skeleton carefully. "No problem."

A small smile pulls at his face.

#thank you to the person who sent me an entirely unrelated ask that put me on a tangent until i wrote this #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #pre solangelo #pining nico di angelo #fluff #my writing #longpost #will/nico #nico/will #pjo hoo toa

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panchatea · 8 months ago

Text

GREEN

#1 of 3 Colors Series.

TRIGGER WARNING is expected, proceed with caution

Dreamcatcher Fanfiction

6322 WORDS

chacha story commissions

It was cold light blue…

Really cold and these red mosquitos were everywhere feasting and leaving itchy marks on each arm and leg. It was crippling, it was dark, but at least it was quiet.

Finally quiet.

It was white.

A sweater or a hoodie would be quite useful right now, but there was no point, right? After all, it all doesn’t matter now, there was nothing to lose or gain anymore. Just take mindless steps… mindless heavy steps with no direction. Grab the gray asphalt underneath. Feel the cold, feel all of it…

Blink.

It was dark, yet it was bright.

It was white.

All of these blinding lights were everywhere from store signages and street lights. Countless lost red and yellow souls passing by each other, and not caring about one another. After all, people have their own problems to deal with.

Problems.

If only it were that simple, but it wasn't.

It never did.

Wish it was all monochrome but no, everything was bright, too bright to begin with, too colorful, too complicated, and there was no side ledge to stand on top off to. There was no compelling, pulling, and captivating clear dark blue body of water to drown in.

Not that everything wasn’t already drowning and suffocating.

All there was just darkness, this asphalt underneath, and all of these bright street lamps.

Just breathe.

It’s not that hard. It’s not that hard to just breathe.

Hard to breathe.

“You’re green.” That was what she said before grabbing onto your hand, without asking and pulling you away from these heavy mindless steps. She held tightly as every color blurred out, and each step kept getting lighter.

Run.

Her hand was soft, but she was gripping tightly and she was shaking as if… you looked at her. She was purple.

It was fast and blurry. All these colors mixed up and there was no clear path and all you could focus on was her. Her color oozed with purples and violets. Her blonde hair. That black sweater and gray skirt. And run to god knows where she would take you.

“What are you thinking about?” She yelled, still running.

“I don’t know…

Like maybe why are we running?

Who are you?

What are we even doing?

Aren’t you running out of breath?”

“Hey calm down, Green. Geez, you have too many questions.” She didn’t answer any of them.

“Are we lost?!” You yelled back.

You could just stop and let go of her hand but you didn’t. Why because for some reason…

“It’s okay, Green.” Once again her answer didn’t answer the question, but her words, felt like they meant something else.

Like it was okay to be lost.

“Why are you calling me Green?”

“Breathe.” She stopped. You both stopped.

“What’s that expression on your face?” She added.

“How about you? What are you so afraid of?”

Once again, she didn’t answer… She just looked at you while she caught her breath.

“You can see it, right?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“The colors. Tell me what color I am?”

“You’re purple or violet… I don’t know, I don’t care. What does it even mean?”

She just laughed, loudly until it was all you could hear, breaking the whites, mixing in the dark.

“Can you just talk to me like a normal person!?” You shouted and she just looked surprised. She pouted but she didn’t say anything.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. I just, can’t deal with this right now. I don't have time for this.” You tried to walk away but her next words stopped you.

She was really pushy.

“I'm not normal, Green.” She laughed.

“You’re silly, you know.” She squatted looking at your toes, at your shoeless feet.

“It's just that sometimes or most of the time, I get into these moods. I say what I want. I do what I want. You’re right… I’m purple. You’re funny, you don't know the difference between purples and violets.” She pointed at your feet happily.

“Your toes are dirty, aren’t they cold? Don’t go running without shoes or a flip-flop. I like violet more than purple, so I appreciate that you thought I was a violet.”

She says one different thing after another.

“You’re weird.” You sighed out of frustration as you grew aware of what she pointed out, yes your feet were cold.

“It’s my first time seeing your shade of green,” she muttered.

“Usually, I would see it in restaurants or children who don’t like their veggies. Did you eat something weird? But you’re different, it’s as if you’re disgusted by yourself.” She looked at you intently, studying your expression or rather studying your expression and peeking into your soul.

“That’s none of your business scaredy fox.” You reached inside your pocket and took out the single stick of cigarette left in there and a lighter.

“Hey, don’t smoke, Green.” She jumped up while simultaneously snatching the stick slipped in between your fingers, and threw it away. “It’s bad for you.”

“What’s your problem?!” You shouted at her and she just smiled.

“How about you? What’s your problem?” She retorted sternly as if she really believed that snatching that cigarette was the right thing to do. You just sighed in defeat.

She had this commanding and carefree aura or in other words she was weird and she just didn’t care.

“Come on, just calm down and enjoy this view,” She tapped your shoulders before turning to look around. What view? All of it was just empty dark streets lit by white street lights, colorful street signage of 24-hour establishments, and the occasional passing of cars, and red and yellow souls.

“You’re weird,” you commented and she just smiled back at you.

“Keep telling me that, Green. It’s better to be weird than be normal, that sucks.”

“Stop calling me, Green. I don’t know what it means and I have a name,” you retorted while you stared at her. Now that you have a chance, you realize how beautiful this girl was… She looked like an idol, and the street lights weren’t blinding for once, they just illuminated this girl enough to show her violet self.

“So go ahead and tell me your name,” She challenged as she turned back and made eye contact.

“I don’t want to.”

She pouted, “Come on, I’ll tell you mine so tell me yours.”

“Why should I, you’ll keep calling me green anyways, Violet.”

“Haha, maybe I should dye my hair violet soon. Sure, that’s fine, let's just talk like this. Do you wanna walk? Or do you wanna sit?”

You laughed as you took a sit on the sidewalk underneath one of those white street lights.

“You made me run and then you’ll make me walk, don’t forget that I’m barefooted, Violet.” She laughed before sitting beside you.

“Here let me even out things,” She said before she removed her shoes and socks, and then threw them away.

“That’s not what I mean,” You said in a tone of frustration, “and that doesn’t even out things since we’re sitting.”

“Come on now, it’s better this way. Now go talk your heart out, Green.” She looked at you. Those eyes of hers, expecting something to come out of your mouth—the story of your shade of green.

She was really pushy(2).

“You go first, then I will go.” You smirked at her and she just pouted before breaking eye contact and looking at the sky.

“How about we play a game, Green? Let’s take turns, I’ll answer your question and then you answer mine. So that it’s fair, right?” She smiled in between her sentences.

“Sure, I’ll go first,” you quickly said and she just side-eyed in response before nodding and looking up again to the sky—that dark empty sky.

“What does Green, Purple, or Violet mean? Colors, what do colors mean?” You asked her. You could always see them everywhere but didn't really know what they meant. What do they mean? How could she even tell you could see them?

She snickered at your question, “You can see them but don’t know what they mean? You’re funny and weird.”

“I’m the one who is asking here, Miss.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll answer,” she said as she gestured as if she was grabbing something in the sky above her, “Green means disgust, and Purple is fear. Violet is still fear, but I guess for me, it is sadness mixed with little bits of anger. You know what’s funny, violet is made with more blue than red, and purple is just more red than blue. They, Purple and Violet are basically the same thing but they mean differently.”

Her explanation had raised questions. What she said wasn't clear honestly, but you just listened intently.

Her words… were just like she was yapping about something but they held meaning.

“So if red is anger, and blue is sadness. Then Purple, do they root from anger and sadness? Does that mean you’re overwhelmed by anger but were slapped with the reality and blueness of not being able to do anything with that fear? Hence, maybe that’s why you’re afraid. What does Violet even mean then, when you’re too sad but also a little bit angry?” She lowered her fist and looked at it intently before opening it.

She grabbed nothing out of the vast dark sky but there was something.

“You’re being unfair, you already asked three questions you know,” you smiled unknowingly as you watched her. “Anyways, I think you’re right though. There is nothing to be afraid of if you are happy.”

“Yellow?” She cut.

“Yes, yellow maybe as you said. Hence, fear is rooted in sadness, but sadness is just not enough. Maybe that’s why we need anger to experience fear. Sadness from the helplessness and anger from the hopelessness. Which do you prefer though? Violet or Purple?”

Once again, she looked at you straight in the eyes and something way beyond your eyes.

Perhaps the colors? Or maybe your soul?

“I prefer Violet, I already said that to you earlier. I think I’m violet… I wish I could be Violet, Green. What do you think? What am I?”

“Okay, Violet, I guess you’re too sad then, but I think you’re more purple. But I’ll keep calling you Violet 'cause violets are nice.” You smiled at her.

“Why?” She asked quickly.

“Because violet. Suppose you become more than just a violet. Let’s say super? Ultra?”

She smiled.

“Ultra-violet is all the colors at full brightness,” you joked.

“Haha, Ultra-violet? That’s so weird!” She exclaimed as she stood before once again looking up in the sky.

“Look who's talking, calling someone else weird,” you teased back.

“Just ask your question, don’t forget about it.”

“I don’t know, I’ll ask later, Green. I’ll reserve my question for later.”

“Green? I don’t think green means disgust, but rather disappointment. Yellow is Happiness? Green is made with blue and yellow, and all I can think about with that combination is disappointment. I don’t think you’re wrong though, Green might as well be disgust.”

“Why?” She asked and stood up beside her.

“Because I hate, myself.

Because I’m disgusted by myself.”

“That’s why you’re green.” She commented almost too quickly. “Why are you disgusted by yourself?”

“Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask.” She smiled in acknowledgment.

“What are you so afraid of?”

And for the first time tonight, she didn’t look goofy, and she wasn’t smiling without any care in the world. There was violet, there was purple in her eyes. You suddenly remembered her shaking hands earlier, so you instinctively held her hands.

There were shaking.

She held your hand tightly and said,

“I’m afraid of dying.”

“Why?”

She smiled, “Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Touche, Violet.”

You tried to let go of her hand but she intertwined hers with yours instead.

“Answer my why first.”

“I started to believe, that’s all.”

“And?”

“I started to loathe, and I started losing love for myself.”

“What was it that made you believe? What do you believe in?” She asked continuously. Now the game was getting more interesting.

You smirked, “My turn to ask a question.”

“Aish, go ahead.”

“Why are you afraid of dying?”

She laughed and smiled again, and for some reason, it looked and sounded forced—there was sorrow behind her smile and laugh.

“That’s simple, because I’ll die,” she stated nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing to say. Does she have some kind of illness? A terminally ill patient? She looked rather healthy honestly.

“Come on now, everyone will die sooner or later.”

“Yup, you’re right.”

That was when you saw, something unforgettable that would haunt you forever—may that be in a bad way or a good way.

It was her smile.

Different from the one she did before, it was the brightest. It wasn’t white or yellow, but rather was violet. It was something beyond beauty. And it wasn’t because of how the sides of her lips or the way her cheeks puffed or the way her eyes smiled along with her lips.

But it was the genuineness of it.

Her smile was filled with sorrow.

Her smile harbored acceptance for something beyond what you knew about her.

Her smile hinted reds of regret.

Her smile was not just blue.

It was violet.

“Ul—”

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green,” she cut as she let go of your hand and took a few steps forward.

You could no longer see her smile, or if she was still smiling even. You stare at her back while trying to process what she just said.

Her die? Tomorrow?

That ridiculous.

“Come on don’t joke around, you’re not terminally ill, are you?” You asked worriedly but she laughed once again...

“Is that a question? You're funny, I'm not sick or ill.”

If not that then…

“Are you gonna kill yourself?” she looked back, her smile wasn't there anymore.

“It’s not your turn to ask a que—”

“Forget about the stupid game! Answer the fucking question! Are you gonna kill yourself or not?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill myself,” She answered rather quickly and surely.

“Don’t ever kill yourself,” you said sternly, and she responded by holding out her pinky finger.

“I won’t kill myself, I promise.” She wiggled her finger, tempting you to take it. You took it, and she locked on it before playfully pressing her thumb onto yours.

“Why do you even care?” She teased as she broke the lock between your pinky fingers and quickly intertwined her hands instead, “You have to answer two questions in a row now, you took two turns earlier. I won’t let go of you until you do.”

You held her hand tightly.

“My best friend killed herself.” You almost choked out of your words.

“That’s why, so don’t kill yourself, and don’t ever kill yourself.

I don’t ever want someone I know to kill themselves again, because I’ll actually start to believe it, and maybe, I might just end up going after them...”

“What exactly is it?”

“That's your second question,” you said as you smiled at her.

“Yes it is, but this time you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.”

She smiled back.

“Because everyone blames me for her death, and today, I visited her grave for the first time. I went away. I wasn't there for her funeral after all so I visited and I couldn't do so for the longest time… because I was afraid. I thought I didn't deserve to visit her until I… I was finally able to make our wish come true but—”

You bit your lip, as you felt all of it, the memories, the emotions, and the trauma weigh down on your shoulders.

“but when I came to her grave… her Mom was there, and she… she said that…

I didn't change.

I was still the same monster who drove her daughter to kill herself.

I… they all said it before. That it was because of me.

And now I'm starting to believe it.

So you're right…

I’m green.

I’m disgusted by who I am.”

Tears started flowing. Words were said. Everything came gushing out. All of those that were heavy were released.

You just wept and cried.

*SLAP

“Hey, it’s not your fault.”

As the pain registered, it went silent—it went monochrome.

There were only her eyes and her mouth saying the words.

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

“I —I kn—know,” you struggled.

“It's not your fault,” once again as she caressed the cheek she slapped.

“I know and I tried, but—”

“Whatever it is, whatever you did. It’s not your fault.” she cut.

“But! Sometimes or most of the time, there are voices in my head saying how it's my fault that she had died. That I was the one who,” you bit your lip, “That they are right.”

“And I! Most of the time, I tell myself that they are not wrong for saying that.

So I… yes… I hate myself.

I am utterly disgusted by my own being.”

Green.

She pulled you into a hug and for one last time she said, “It’s not your fault.”

“So where did you lose your shoes?” she asked jokingly and you just bursted out laughing while tears flew down your cheeks.

“You are taking advantage of this, are you? That is your third question.”

She giggled.

“Come on, tell me about it.”

“You know, we probably look weird like this. Hugging in the middle of the streets and crying and laughing.”

“Do you want me to let go?”

Honestly no…

There was this kind of comfort and discomfort being engulfed by her arms.

Why would you let a complete stranger hug you like this?

A complete stranger saying the words you wanted to hear the most?

“Haha, I forgot about it… my shoes. I just ran and later realized that I didn't have one.”

“Here, I’ll give you this instead.” She broke the hug to reach for something from her pockets and took out a violet pen.

“Always keep this with you and don’t ever lose it.”

“What's this? A kid toy pen? It doesn’t even work.” You tried it on your hand but the pen didn't have any ink.

“Haha, it's my treasure so take care of it.”

“I will.” You kept it inside your pocket, replacing the cigarette from before.

“So tell me? What do we do now?” You asked her.

She took a few steps, before looking back.

“What else? We keep playing the game, Green.” She said as she held out her hand.

“Come, walk me home?”

You took it.

“Where are we even? Do you even know from all that running?” She took her steps and you followed her.

“Of course, are you not from around here?”

Once again, upon these empty streets illuminated only by white street lights, you two walked barefooted as if it was the most normal thing ever, grabbing the cold pavement while relishing the strange comfort of each other’s company.

“No, my best friend's parents decided they were going to bury her here, in their hometown so I came here to visit, but I can just look at my phone—” you patted your pockets to look for your phone only to find out that.

“I don’t have it!” you said surprised upon the realization of this predicament.

“I lost my phone,” you said to her but she just shrugged.

“Can I borrow yours?”

“I don’t have one,” she replied as she noticed the worried look you had.

“Maybe it's in the graveyard? Do you wanna come and get it?” She asked.

“No way! It's too late and there's no way I’m going to a graveyard this late. Aish, we don't even know what time exactly it is.”

She just laughed and you just sighed in defeat. Of course, you at least knew how you got to the graveyard from your accommodation, and how to get out of town, but you had been wondering without any care for some ample time, the running and now walking with this violet stranger girl seemed to have led you to someplace you had no idea about. Of course, this also means you didn't know how to get to the place you were residing at. You just know too little about this town and it was harder in the dark.

“Scaredy Cat, it's not that scary.”

She knows where things are, maybe you could ask her. You sighed in defeat.

“Let's just go, I will walk you home, and just give me directions to my shared house and then I hope I can figure the way.”

The walk by itself was uneventful, after all that happened and the things that you two shared about each other, the silence was a breath of fresh air. Her silence was odd, but everything was honestly odd about her so...

The girl you call Violet just has too many questions surrounding her.

She was a mystery.

A single-colored mystery

“What were you even doing out this late at night?” You looked at her hand, the one you were still holding.

“Hmm,” she pointed at her temple, “I was taking a walk?”

She joked and you bumped at her playfully.

“I wanted to feel the air.

I wanted to see the stars.

I wanted to see those white streetlights,

those colorful store signage,

those lost souls colored uniquely on their own.

I wanted to see the town.

Many more.” She smiled but her tone was filled with blues, yellows, and a new color, you had seen for the first time, orange.

What is orange?

“You’re being weird again, Violet.” you didn’t what to say so you just said the first sorry banter you thought of.

“But hey, I got to meet you, Green.” She looked at you, smiled and it was yellow.

You blushed…

She was strange.

She was weird.

But she had a smile that could not be described by just the words beautiful, pretty, or attractive.

Her smile was colorful.

“I don’t know, I think I was unlucky that I met you,” she punched you and pouted cutely. “Haha, I’m just kidding, I’m glad you found me.”

Yes, the word was found.

She found you.

“I can’t even imagine what could have happened to me if you didn’t do what you did.” You smiled.

“So thank you, Violet.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks turned rosy. Is she blushing?

“Oh shush, don’t mention it.” She smacked your shoulders. She’s shy?! This girl…

“You looked green.” That was maybe her own way of saying You look like you needed help.

“We’re here.” You weren’t really paying attention and you just followed her so you didn't notice until you looked around to find out you two stopped in front of a massive gate, and from afar, you could an even more enormous mansion fitting the massive gate.

On the gate, you noticed circular geometric patterns, but you didn’t think much of them.

“This is your house?” you asked her and she just nodded.

“This is my family’s. My sisters and I live here,” she explained and you nodded in response. You also told her the name of your accommodation and asked for directions but she just… shrugged…

You couldn't believe it… there was no way.

You would have no choice but to sleep in the streets.

“You could stay here if you want?” she offered.

“I don’t th—”

“Lee Gahyeon!” a voice cut came from the other side of the gate before you could finish. From afar, you saw a figure of a woman. She was walking towards the two of you.

“Lee Gahyeon?”

“That’s my name, Green.”

When the figure was finally in sight it revealed an elegant woman wearing a pure white night

gown. Red lips, sharp nose, and lazy hazy eyes of a predator.

“That’s my sister, Kim Minji,” Gahyeon whispered as the said woman opened the massive gate of the mansion.

She was gray.

“Your sister looks really attractive, Vio—” she elbowed you and you just giggled. Kim? They are sisters, right?

“Where have you been?” she asked her before looking at you up and down. “And who is this gentleman?”

A strict mom? Wait, she’s her sister.

“I just took a night stroll, we took a night stroll,” she answered as she hugged your arm.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she added, which made your eyes widen.

“I see… A stroll, without shoes. A boyfriend without shoes,” She pointed out. The older sister stared at you as if she was waiting for you to say something.

“Hi—hi! O—older Sister, I’m,” you stuttered as you introduced yourself. You held out your hand for a handshake but the older woman ignored it and turned around.

“Come Gahyeon, it's late. We should rest, everyone has already retreated to their rooms.” The older gestured for the younger to come.

“JiU-unnie wait. ” This halted the older and looked back. “Can he stay? He has nowhere to go right now and it's too late.”

“We don't have any guest rooms ready so just show him to Father’s bedroom. Let him borrow his clothes and… shoes.” Minji continued walking towards the manor while Gahyeon dragged you.

“Violet, is this okay?”

“Yup don’t worry, if she says it's fine then it's fine. JiU is the oldest amongst us 7 and she's the leader so what she says goes, and besides, it's the least she could do.” you sighed in defeat.

“The least she could do?”

“Yes! I mean her youngest sister brought home a man for the first time, the least she could do is to make him feel at home and give him some shoes.” she pointed at your toes before dragging you to go inside the mansion.

What’s with them and toes… and shoes…

The place was quite big so it took a while to even go to the front door of the mansion. It made you wonder, where did the older woman walking a few meters in front of you and Gahyeon. You saw a gazebo near the gate so maybe that was wear Minji was hanging out while she was waiting for Gahyeon? Alone, that late at night?

Along the way, you saw a vast green field lit by post lamps, well-kept plants and flowerbeds, and a few marble angel statues holding some sort of ornament with patterns similar to the ones on the gate. It was creepy looking at them so you tried to ignore them up until you arrived at the front door. Although, it was hard not to notice as even the front door had them engraved.

“Violet, what are those?” you pointed at the door.

“Those are dreamcatchers, you’ll see them everywhere,” Minji explained instead of Gahyeon.

“They are all valuable so don’t touch them,” Gahyeon added before guiding you inside the mansion.

The word magnificent wasn't enough to describe it. If only there were a word for something terrifying yet grandiose. It was only the entrance, where you were greeted by a massive grand oval staircase solely lit by a crystal chandelier. Angels on both the left and right ends of the staircase, each holding their own dreamcatcher.

The light from the chandelier was not enough to illuminate the whole place, but it was enough for you to see the place with the sunroof helping with a little bit of illumination from the moon.

Minji was right, they were everywhere from the patterns of the stair railings, to many of them hanging in the ceiling, railings, and walls. Even the crystals of the chandelier looked like individual dreamcatchers on their own.

The open space was big enough to be a function hall. At the end of it, there was a hall with what seemed to be full rooms. Similar to the one in the middle, the left and right way had a hall passage leading to parts of the mansion that you haven’t seen yet.

The place had at least three floors but it seemed like the grand staircase connected only the first and second floors but you could see a third floor from the open space above. As you looked up again, there seemed to be a silhouette looking at the three of you.

“Someone is up there,” you pointed out to the two women.

“Probably one of our sisters,” Gahyeon answered.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Father’s bedroom.” Gahyeon took your hand again and you just followed her.

“Are there elevators in this massive place?” You asked them.

“What’s that?” Gahyeon asked back sincerely as if she had never seen an elevator before.

“Really?” You asked back, but she laughed loudly.

“Gahyeon, please not be too loud,” Minji

“Of course, I know what an elevator is. We just don’t have one. My father is an old-school grandpa so he didn’t like technology so much,” Gahyeon joked.

Come to think of it, she also didn’t have a cellphone.

Soon Minji headed for her room and you two headed for their Father’s bedroom. You assumed that their father was not in the mansion because they were renting his bedroom away, but you didn’t ask about it because it might be a sensitive topic.

The room was just as you had imagined but it didn’t fail to impress you. It was the master bedroom—a king-size bed, a walk-in closet full of unbranded tailored clothes, shoes, and accessories, a bathroom of its own, and other things that screamed wealth. Gahyeon had let you borrow most of it. It was embarrassing being treated so well, but she firmly assured you it was okay.

When you came out of the bathroom after freshening up, you looked at the balcony, where you found her watching the night sky. For a moment, you stared at her before she noticed you, smiled at you and gestured for you to join her. You thought to yourself as you walked towards her that she finally looked like the color she wanted to become. Violet.

Maybe more than that.

Ultra-violet.

“I’m your boyfriend?” you teased her as you leaned on the balcony railings. You stared at her while she continued watching the stars and the moon. Beautiful. You thought to yourself. It was picturesque, her glowing under the moonlight.

“Why do you not want to? Is this my first rejection?” She giggled.

“Wow, you’re just gonna turn me into a heartbreaker if I say no?”

Any guy would want to be hers. You were sure of it. You were not even sure if she was serious about the boyfriend thing. It was just an excuse to let her older sister let you inside the mansion. She was kind like that.

“I’m serious, be my boyfriend,” She declared as she slowly inched towards you until she was close… too close.

“Do you love me?” You asked, even though you knew what was the answer.

Her violet turned into pink. Weird.

“Hmm, I find you interesting and I think you’re cute. I like you, but I don’t think I love you yet,” She explained as you backed down a few steps away from her.

“How about you, Green? Do you love me?” She threw the question right back at you.

It feel like you two were playing the game again.

“You’re be—beautiful… You’re re—really nice. Kind. Although you’re kinda odd and weird, I think any man would fall in love with you.” She inched forward, once again in an uncomfortable distance.

Yellow.

Was your eye tricking you?

“I would love to be your boyfriend, but I don’t think it’s the right time to do so,” you blurted out nervously. She pouted. She smiled differently—almost bittersweetly.

Also, how could one truly love someone when one only has hate for themselves?

“Aish, what a heartbreaker.” She flicked your forehead before running inside the room.

Now once again, her usual Violet.

“Hey! What was that for?” You chased after, but she ran circles around you, outmaneuvering you using her speed, by throwing throw pillows at you or putting distance between the two of you using the furniture. You didn’t even know what you were going to do once you caught her but you kept chasing.

Up until she stepped into one of the pillows she threw earlier and slipped. Time slowed down, and in that moment, you tried to break her fall or maybe catch her from an impending disaster. You couldn’t catch her. Thankfully, she didn’t hit her head and instead, she fell onto the bed. You sighed in relief when you saw that she wasn’t hurt in any way. But there was something strange. Her cheeks turned rosy. She had let out a strange noise.

“I’m no longer pure,” she whispered… What did she mean by that?

That was when you realized, you fell into a position where you could only see in dramas or animations, a girl accidentally falling and the boy trying to catch her only to end up in an awkward position.

Maybe, fate was rather playful at that point as you felt your body press onto her. You could feel her soft body on yours, and her face… she was too close. Gahyeon was so close that it was only an inch keeping you two away from kissing. Luckily, it wasn’t that cringe trope where the guy accidentally grabbed the woman’s breast, but luck couldn’t suppress biology as your body reacted embarrassingly.

“Green, your thing… is pressing against me,” Gahyeon said shyly to which you quickly responded by jumping out of that position.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! It’s a natural thing!” You reasoned out, but she just laughed as she fixed herself.

“Pervert,” She whispered into your ear before kissing you on the cheek.

“Haha, you’re blushing, Green!” She teased as she walked to the door.

“That’s what you get for rejecting me,” Gahyeon said before leaving you speechless inside that massive room.

What?!

Why did she do that?!

What’s with her?!

You had so many questions, but you just retreated to the bed. So much happened, and meeting Gahyeon somehow made it bearable and for a moment you forget about all those hardships.

Gahyeon/Violet was really an oddball.

“Ultra-violet,” you muttered to yourself.

Maybe it was worth trying again at this complicated colorful life.

Somehow, it not being monochrome was great as before it once had her, and now it has Violet.

Tomorrow would be a great day, you thought to yourself before closing your eyes.

What kind of questions should you ask her tomorrow?

The next day came full of anticipation. The questions still lingered.

Her kiss.

Her smile.

Her color.

That brightness.

They all lingered.

You opened the door of the master room only to be greeted by the warmth of the bright yellow sun. The sunroof filled the mansion with natural light. Light creates the ambiance of the place, as well as the expression of the structure. The wealthy took this to heart. What kind of family do they even have to afford this?

This place wasn’t so creepy after all. The marble statues, and the dreamcatchers. Maybe the dark tense vibe of the night made it creepy. The master room/Gahyeon’s father's room was located on the third floor and the fact that the mansion was vast meant it was a trip to even to the second floor.

You hummed as you walked and tried to reflect on what happened yesterday. You remembered Gahyeon’s pen, you remember putting it inside your pockets. You checked if it was still there, and to your surprise, something else was inside your pocket.

A note that said the following:

“Don’t trust anyone. Don’t keep this note. Swallow it.”

Chills went down your spine. What does this even mean? Is this a prank?

“AHH!” a scream came from below. The first floor.

Does this mean the note is not a prank?

What’s happening?

Before you could even think straight, you just did as the note said. You crumpled it and swallowed it whole before heading to the first floor. Suddenly, you remembered something from yesterday.

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green.”

You completely forgot about what she said. Your steps became heavier, but you found yourself running the flight of stairs.

Hearts were booming. Imagination was going wild. Anxiety kicked in.

It only got worse when you arrived at the grand staircase when you saw something hanging off the chandelier. The steps felt endless. You closed your eyes. You could only wish that your eyes were lying to you.

It’s not real, right?

Open your eyes. Look again.

Her smile.

Her color.

You reached the bottom.

That was when the high came crashing down as you looked at a scene that would haunt you forever. It hit hard before, but it hit harder today. Your hope was quite literally hanging in front of your eyes. It didn’t crash down. It floated, and it would never reach the ground.

That was when the colors faded.

There was so much to ask.

But there was no more chance.

A game played by one person would not be fun at all.

It was your turn after all.

Ask the question.

As your tears flew down your cheeks endlessly, they were crawling slowly from behind, hugging you. A weight on your shoulders. A blow of air right beside your ear whispered. It was a feeling you know of too much already.

Her hugs.

The way she held your hand.

The way her lips curved when she smiled.

Her bright color.

“It’s your turn, Green.” That was her sweet kind voice, but how could it be? How could it be her when she was literally hanging in front of your eyes?

“Violet,” you called her name, “who killed you?”

The game continues.

This is for a good friend of mine. Thank you for waiting for this after so many months of hiatus.

Not as good as I was and maybe too many errors but here it is.

#reader insert #kofi commission #panchatea #kpop #dreamcatcher

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toreii · 2 months ago

Text

Mortal Kombat 1: Khaos Reigns Review

Let me just preface this post by saying I’m still on the fence about sharing my thoughts. Like many, I am highly disappointed with the direction this DLC went. I would have never imagined this was in store for me last year during the summer when I first watched the Lin Kuei trailer. Khaos Reigns provoked two days of awful headaches followed by days of disillusion. Yes, NRS played me for a fool (thank god I did not purchase this). I gave them the benefit of the doubt, and it came to bite me in the ass. If I had a physical copy of the game, I’d chuck it in the trash. I’m finding it difficult to proceed forward which is hard because I like to see things through even if it sucks. All I can do is protect my vision of Bi-Han and staying true to the old lore as I try and move on.

That being said, to address my take on this expansion:

To begin, the elephant in the freaking room--Sektor and Cyrax.

I am a Lin Kuei fan overall. Not a big fan of him in general, but there has been appreciation for him and Cyrax throughout the years. When I learned that both were going to be genderbent, I had a little bit of misgivings suddenly changing things drastically. But, again, I gave NRS the benefit of the doubt. Since this is a new era, I was on board with it until the rumors started circulating about both being love interests for the brothers. I was like "That makes no sense whatsoever." To me, the Lin Kuei has always been like a brotherhood. In no given time, has there ever been any indication of personal relationships outside of camaraderie. For example, Cyrax and Smoke being vehemently upset over Bi-Han's death in MK9, and not just Kuai Liang.

The argument can be constantly made that this is a new timeline, and it's Liu Kang's creation over and over. But, when you have that man (Dominic) constantly saying the timelines are canon, but not really. But, still are. It's incredibly hard to take anything seriously right now especially with the constant flip flopping that man does for the sake of the current script. Which is another point, but back to the bastardization of our two Lin Kuei girls.

I wanted to believe in a strong, female Sektor, who has her own ideals which we can all clearly see. Like her past iterations, she lives, breathes, and bleeds Lin Kuei. I wanted to see a Sektor who slowly, but surely descended into her own madness of corruption as she pursued her goals for the Cyber Initiative. Sektor has always been known for his technological genius, and she would be no different. To see her potential constantly get staunched for her adulation and obsession for Bi-Han was hard to witness. I can understand that this may be a flaw for her, but it is a very shitty flaw. Because this one trait absolutely negates everything she stands for. I can see that both she and Bi-Han use each other to a certain extent where it seems fit. I know her horrible romance is the center of focus right now, but if you listen to her intros with Bi-Han, it seems to be all business between them. There is barely any indication that their relationship goes beyond the realm of the clan and into a personal tryst. Sektor calls it love, but it's not quite there. I mean, there's love for the grandmaster, but the love that seems to be implied between the two is not quite there. At least, in my view.

I don't know about Sektor yet, but I already deduced that Bi-Han isn't someone who's desperate to correct anyone on the spot. He doesn't have to. He doesn't owe anyone an explanation, so of course he runs with whatever people say about him. He's unbothered by anyone's opinions of him. When Kuai Liang told Cyrax the truth about Bi-Han letting their father die, Bi-Han could have stepped in at any given moment and contradicted Kuai Liang. Instead, he chose to own every word Kuai said. I've had this feeling since the end of the base campaign that Kuai Liang simply took pieces of what Bi-Han said, and spun them to fit his own narrative. (Killing your father and letting him die because of an accident are two completely different things.)

Anyways, going back to Sektor, that scene where Bi-Han's mind was being restored seems to be the only shoehorned indication that there is more to them than meets the eye. But, again, it was badly placed, badly presented as well. First of all, Sektor really should not have been there in that room at all. From a storytelling perspective, I'm supposed to believe that both Sektor and Bi-Han have this obsessive romance and codependency between each other in a few seconds of frames, than the brotherhood between Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas??? And this was my worst fear for Bi-Han too. I did not want him to be "saved" by romance. I wanted his salvation to come from within himself as he reflected on his poor decisions and the tragedy of his downfall which sadly we were robbed and negated from. If the scene only involved Liu Kang, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang, it would have been more poignant. There has always been that story between the two brothers. I understand, this is not the same Kuai of two timelines ago. But, why is MK: Onslaught's ScorpKuai a lot more wholesome than our MK1 iteration??? He was absolutely horrified meeting MK11 Noob. He couldn't understand why Bi-Han became Noob (and how). But, Kuai's first instinct in the DLC is to be absolutely pissed and disgusted? "Your new attire suits you. It is as black as your heart." Darling, no. I would have been more pleased seeing Kuai approach the table and have this conflicting expression. The hatred can still be there, but the concern and sorrow for whom was once family to him, and his eldest brother needed to be portrayed. I mean, we sort of got it with the whole coffin scene at the end. But, in that scene, in that moment, that more than Bi-Han reaching for Sektor and touching foreheads with her is a lot more powerful in terms of storytelling. I don't know why NRS is so against these two hashing it out and resolving their issues.

Now to Cyrax...oh my god...

According to Kuai Liang in the main story, Cyrax and Sektor were supposed to be absolutely loyal to Bi-Han and would abet his corruption than follow him. We obviously see that in Sektor, but what the hell happened to Cyrax? It leads me to believe that Dominic and others suddenly decided to change the script. Mind you, I firmly believe that they did so. Sektor and Cyrax being women in this game must've been a decision that came after everything was said and done for the base campaign. I'm a bit skeptical on Bi-Han suddenly turning on Cyrax because I do recall some time ago listening to some leaked audio in which Bi-Han says "Kuai Liang was supposed to give Cyrax back." It made me think "Oh shit. Does Cyrax get held hostage or something?" Like, what the hell happened? And, I'm realizing, are we missing dialogue now? There is so much that does not make sense!!! Why would they turn on her all of a sudden?!

She's supposed to be close to Bi-Han just as much as Sektor. And suddenly, Cyrax is presented as a free thinking individual who abides by her own ideals and tradition. The moment that is threatened, she feels like she can no longer follow Bi-Han and his ambitions. To make it worse, she feels so much remorse with Kuai Liang that she's ready to give up her life in penance to make up for it. It just makes no sense. And to make it worse, she spends the rest of the DLC following Kuai Liang like a little puppy ready to serve her new grandmaster. Why was she even presented as a strong individual when all she wants is Kuai Liang's adoration as well? Not to mention, it was a really gross line to include in the intros where Noob threatens to spill her relationship with Kuai Liang to Harumi. We're seriously cheapening these two women to typical high school romance tropes? Like others have expressed, this is fanfiction levels of madness.

Kuai Liang is all levels of messed up too. I am so sick and tired of him prancing around like he does no wrong, and everyone believes every word he says. Suddenly, he's the self appointed grand hero of the story when you have Liu Kang's champions sitting around and twiddling their thumbs? Why not place faith in them and send them with Kuai to resolve the current threat. I understand Kuai's Shirai Ryu is now the new protectors, but you also have these other people and beings who are preparing themselves as well for these upcoming threats. I hate that they just suddenly bled into the background, and disappeared completely. Somebody needs to not only knock Bi-Han but Kuai Liang as well a few pegs down. He too is not without his own flaws and they need to be addressed. And Liu Kang's line "Trust your wife. Avail yourself of her wisdom." The same thing with Sektor and Bi-Han. Here too. This fucking trope cannot be it. Love cannot only be the thing that saves the day. His anger, his vengeance, is no where near the levels of Hanzo. Hanzo legit had a reason to be like that. Kuai is literally throwing a bitch fit at Bi-Han, and pointing fingers anywhere but himself. Seriously, his anger and disgust against Cyrax was so unwarranted. And every time she was flustered and tried to explain, he barely gave her time to say a word. Always cutting her off, and rejecting her apologies until the end because it is implied Harumi stepped in. And he seems to just completely simmer down a bit in the presence of Noob. Where was the you who tried to take him on earlier in Chaosrealm? Suddenly, you don't feel like butting heads with your brother? Kuai Liang is such a hypocrite, and I'm tired of seeing it.

Liu Kang was also another that just got dragged through the mud. A lot of his words and actions did not make sense. He's content with disposing of Titan Shang Sung and Titan Quan Chi, but he won't let Bi-Han finish off Titan Havik because he isn't sure how he's tied to his timeline, and doesn't want to kill innocent lives? What about the timelines tied to the other two? Liu Kang had no problem ending those. Why is Titan Havik's timeline any different? Bi-Han is right. Why does that timeline matter when the most important one is theirs, Liu Kang's timeline? He tells Raiden and Kung Lao to do their best and pray they make it out alive, when Liu Kang could have better prepared them. Gets his ass handed to him, can't even go save Geras himself. Sends Kuai, Cyrax, and Sektor to Chaosrealm in blindly. And, snaps at Bi-Han for the most part towards the end instead of having a meaningful talk with him. Not just simply telling him "This is what you are meant to do. Defend Earthrealm." Well, geez, why not elaborate on that, Liu Kang? Can't you give Bi-Han a few minutes of your time to air out grievances and come to a consensus?

And what the hell happened to Titan Havik? Is he dead? Does he still live? Trapped in the void? The Kamidogu were briefly mentioned, and then dropped. They were hyped to be of importance in this DLC. I'm certain they'll make their return eventually if NRS continues the story involving Onaga when the time comes. But, Havik had plans for them as well. And we only see him fusing with the Kamidogu. That final fight with him felt pretty lackluster. Just a regular match like any other.

We are definitely missing script, and scenes. We were supposed to have gotten a whole lot more. Ed Boon said this was their project for the next few years. I suppose they felt compelled not just to omit certain things, but cut out others for future DLCs. This was setup to be more than what we got. The bar absolutely fell short of what the end product was. To charge full price is absolutely heinous. I'm sorry, but I do not have $50 on hand for each DLC that they plan to release. They charged full price for the main game, and now they plan to do so for every little story line that comes after? I can't in good conscious support this kind of marketing. I'm devastated with the story. Like, I could work and make sense and justify every decision made with the main story to a degree. I can't do the same with Khaos Reigns.

I know I was making gifs of Bi-Han last week, but after KR...my heart right now really isn't in MK1. Every time I come across posts and remotely start thinking about it, I get headaches. They are not as bad as they initially were, but this is how horribly this DLC affects me. It keeps giving me headaches. I know I probably regurgitated the same sentiments and ideas as many others have already. But, a friend told me it would be cathartic to do this. So, instead of my journal, I am here expunging these thoughts and emotions. I don't know what my future with the brand will entail, but godspeed NRS. I wish you well on your future endeavors, and that's really saying a lot on my end. I can't even hope anymore. They massacred my heart and left me to die just like papa Lin Kuei (I wish we had a name for him).

#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat khaos reigns #mk1 khaos reigns #mk1 review #bi han #sub zero #kuai liang #scorpion #cyrax #sektor #liu kang

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inkblot22 · 8 months ago

Note

(PS I don’t actually know the source material for idia I just stumbled upon one of your fics while looking at FFXIV Yandere fics so sorry if this sounds OOC)

I’m not super creative but what do you think might actually be Idia’ routine with his darling? Does he fall into any routine, does it change a lot?

Have a wonderful day (and happy late bunny day!) 🫶

I actually am of the opinion that this is a very creative thought! You should give yourself more credit. I like to idealize the day to day life, but it never occurred to me that writing it down might be a good idea. On that sentiment, I think maybe Vil or even Leona would have a better day to day routine. Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Also, wow, what a pipeline, FFXIV to twst?? You've got good taste lmao welcome to my blog.

I'll put this under the cut, and I'm also not promising that this will be very good. I use the 24 hour clock. I am constantly getting told irl that American people don't do that, but I'm evil, so I'm putting the times in 24 hour clock format.

TW for mentions of noncon, coercion, captivity, someone keeping someone else awake, a hint of Idia being an asshole

+ Idia doesn't really seem like he has much of a set schedule, but Ortho absolutely does and Ortho is lowkey kind of bossy, so...

+ Yeah uh, Idia's partner is absolutely out of luck. Idia likes night gaming a lot, and he gets loud, so good luck sleeping. Idia himself goes to bed late and wakes up whenever the heck he wakes up. He could go to bed at 0300 in the morning and wake up again at 0700.

+ As his kept partner, the schedule is a little more normal, like I said. Ortho doesn't really need to sleep from what I understand, (I haven't read all of book 6, no spoilers or else I WILL temporarily block you) but it's silly to imagine that he doesn't wake up or attempt to wake up everyone else around him as early as 0600.

+ After waking up, Idia will eat breakfast. I think it'd be delivered usually since Idia and his partner are basement dwellers, one by nature and the other by force. After breakfast begins work...

+ Or procrastination. Idia flip flops between extreme focus on what he should be doing and what he should not be doing. He manages to get his schoolwork done, but more often than not, he's asking his partner to cuddle up and watch a movie, drama, or his fingers flying across the keyboard. Idia will not ask them to cuddle if he is doing schoolwork or virtually attending classes.

+ I like to think that he smells smoky, on account of the flaming hair, and he runs hot, so prepare to SWEAT. In the case his partner doesn't really want to hang out with him, he will usually sulk and only occasionally get upset to the point of doing something about it.

+ I don't think he showers every day. I think he's an every other day type of showerer, based solely on him not being particularly active. This means that his partner doesn't have to run on his showering schedule and gets extra hot water on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

+ By the way, in the case that Idia's darling ever gets peckish, Idia has a snack stash that he proudly pulled out and showed them as soon as they were allowed to wander a bit. I figure they get hungry some time around 1400, especially if Idia is also eating at that time.

+ I think his metabolism is fast, but also a bit odd. He is a young person, and therefore he strikes me as the type to get randomly hungry. If asked very nicely (and with the promise of physical affection in some form) he'd be incredibly willing to make his partner something to munch on when he makes his own.

+ Despite Idia's partner being literally held captive in his room, with all his suspicious items and, worst of all, himself, Idia is about as respectful as a kidnapper can be about demanding sex. He doesn't like to be physically forceful about it, and he often will just jerk off in the bathroom.

+ The reason for this is very simple: If Ortho ever saw Idia having sex with ANYONE, Idia would spontaneously combust. Well, obviously he doesn't know that for certain, but it's a theory that he is not willing to test. He won't even talk about his preferences around his little brother.

+ As far as I'm aware, most people in captive situations do not tend to ask their kidnapper to fuck them unless they're being threatened in some way, but Idia's partner isn't typically being threatened (ignore the shock collar,) so they never ask Idia to have sex.

+ This does not stop Idia from being a whiny bitch about not having sex enough as soon as Ortho is gone for a few hours. The close quarters and sudden advent of a human being who he doesn't mind touching him is a big thing for Idia.

+ Ortho goes on "walks" in a sort of unusual schedule. That is to say that he doesn't have a schedule. If something needs to be picked up, he's tired of Idia not listening to him, he has his own stuff to do, or he just feels like it, Ortho will go out, sharing his location with Idia. From there, Idia will typically calculate how long it'd take Ortho to get back paired with whatever Ortho said he was going to do before he left, and see if he can squeeze in some coerced touching.

+ So. Good luck, Idia's partner. Idia will make a big stink until he gets bored or his partner gives in. His partner usually gives in, based on fear of what he might do alone.

+ Bedtime is somewhat randomized. If Ortho was out, when he comes back and it's any time after 2000, he will very subtly try to get Idia and his partner to start winding down. If both or one ignores him, he'll start getting upset.

+ Like I said, Ortho is kinda bossy. He will nag someone, and the worst part is that he's usually got their best interest in mind.

+On the off chance that Idia decides to go to bed at a decent time, he curls up behind his partner. He runs hot and smells smoky, and at some times it's not the worst thing. Some times.

+ By the way, a lot of this flies out the window in the event that Idia decides to attend classes in person. This is rare, so don't expect it to happen often, but it's not as good as it could be. Ortho goes with him and he locks up any way to reach the outside world, so all his partner has to entertain themselves is his manga collection, or the fun pastime of destruction of property. (This is a very bad idea, and I can expand on punishments later.)

+ In Idia's partner's case, every day is much of the same but just a little different, which makes it hard to keep track of time. The fact that Idia prefers low lighting and no natural light doesn't help this whatsoever.

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prncssie · 6 months ago

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miffy’s note this is something i wrote for kuna a while back and discovered i actually struggle to write him rn so this never got finished but im posting it as is bc this concept will probably never get finished pfft. enjoy her as is c: nothing really happens but mdni as always

nighttime in the summer is a little sweeter than the rest of the year. the stars glimmer brighter, the air feels more crisp, even the moon is illuminated with such a shine you kept help but admire her from miles below.

nighttime in the summer is meant times like these, providing you a sense of safety while you enjoy your youthfulness while you can.

you lean against the silver porsche cayman, sitting idle in the mall parking lot. the owner, pink-haired and bubbly, stands in eyesight, sparking up a conversation excitedly with his friend — a brooding dark haired man you’ve come to learn is megumi.

you can only hear bits and pieces of their conversation over the engines revving around you but nevertheless, their friendship is the same, with yuji excitedly waving his hands to display his thrill and megumi casting him sideways glances. despite the annoyed disposition he gives off, everyone knows he doesn’t really mind. if anything, megumi just considers most people a general inconvenience.

“has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” megumi asks with an unconvincing roll of his eyes. the slight lift of the corners of his mouth give him away as he begins to walk towards you, hands tucked in the pockets of his black shorts, soft and cottony.

it does nothing to deter yuji who just grins, trailing behind him. glint brown eyes glimmer with joy, no matter that he’s being chastised by his own friend. “just you, all the time. you’re such a good friend, megumi. i value our friendship so much.”

megumi pauses midstep to turn and face the other. his eyes are narrowed into slits and he just stands there as the seconds pass, glaring silently. he considered slapping his hand against yuji’s chest but he doesn’t. he simply clicks his tongue and makes his way towards you, grumbling under his breath.

“i’m getting bored,” you say with a huff. your arms are crossed tightly across your chest as a symbol of your protests. “you guys told me it would be fun and i believed you because you never agree on anything.”

“it will be fun. it’s fun right now but you’re standing here guarding my car instead of doing anything else.” yuji positions himself beside you. he gets a view of the parking lot, full of modded cars blowing hazy exhaust smoke into the night sky.

it was his idea to attend a local car meet and him who first sent the invitation your way. you were only enticed to attend when the rest of your friends agreed to join, as well. frankly, it’s not really your thing to leave the comfort of your home and watch cars do donuts, screeching and leaving skid marks all over the road.

it may be entertaining but it’s not your thing.

“what if your car gets stolen? you’re gonna wish i was here guarding it.”

“no one wants his shitbox. i can promise you that,” the black-haired man snickers. he eyes the cayman with faux disdain.

“don’t be upset my car is better than yours, megs. not everyone can be as good as me.” yuji clamps his hand down on megumi’s shoulder, patting the lean muscles sympathetically.

you think their friendship is strange, often flip-flopping between enemies to acquaintances to besties. if you didn’t know any better, the thought of them being related could have crossed your mind. you know better, though, having already met his brother before. “where’s sukuna?”

yuji shrugs, glancing around the strangers that mill between cars. “i dunno. he’s somewhere. he rode his bike here so he’s probably riding around somewhere.”

“and nobara?”

this time, you both turn to megumi — the one who was in charge of bringing her here as yuji has done for you.

“i’m not her babysitter. i don’t fuckin’ know. maybe she found some guy to french kiss or something. that’s not my business.” megumi gives a small shake of his head. he’s not open to having this conversation; there’s no point. what she does in her free time has nothing to do with him.

this time, you find yourself giggle lightly. it’s drowned out by the growing vibrato of an engine rolling up to approach the three of you. it brings a breeze with it, sparking goosebumps to rise across your skin.

with the season heightening the nighttime temperature, it’s warm enough that you’re able to wear a sleek, athletic skirt. it’s dark gray material is smooth against the tops of your thighs and is accompanied with a tiny pair of shorts attached to the inside, necessary when you consider the short length. you paired it with a thick-strapped camisole, scented with a flowery perfume the wafts through the air when you walk by. you have yet to get hit with a sudden chill since you’ve stepped out of yuji’s car. after all, he enjoys blasting the ac in tandem with the volume of the radio, blasting j. cole through the speakers connected to his phone through airplay.

“i drove around for ten minutes looking for you brats.” a motorcycle comes to a smooth stop a few feet away, humming its gas away. the driver, decked out in gear, wraps a gloved hand around the helmet and tugs it off. his voice is muffled behind the layers of plastic and kevlar.

still, its familiar and your suspicions are confirmed when you spot the same pink hair of the younger itadori, the one who’s standing by your side now. you still remember the day sukuna and yuji dyed their hair after a drunken promise they were forced to uphold at the threat of being called a pussy for months to come. it was recent, merely a few weeks ago.

sukuna has his own genetic differences, though. while the two could be a splitting image, there’s little things that set them apart. yuji, having only recently turned twenty, looks more boyish with rounder eyes and a perma-smile. on the otherhand, sukuna has a much sharper jawline.

the angles of his face are more prominent, giving him a stronger bone structure. his eyes are slimmer and sometimes glint with a color so brown, they almost appear red. when he smiles, it appears like a smirk, with white incisors poking over the bottom of his pillow soft, pink lips.

your stomach twists and turns under the surface.

“have you seen nobara?” yuji tilts his head with his question. his hair, grown out from his last haircut, flops over the tops of his scalp until its waving on the opposite side. “we were just talking about how we don’t know where she is.”

sukuna furrows a brow. he breaks his eye contact temporarily to push the kickstand down and turn his bike off. “no . . .? i’m not looking for that girl.” he swings his leg over the seat of his bike. a thick, black boot makes contact with the asphalt with a weighty thump.

“her lo’ says she’s here.” megumi jumps into the conversation, flashing the bright screen of his phone to display the “find my” app. surely enough, nobara’s silly sleeping face — eyes closed and mouth hanging wide open — is hovering over the same lot you three stand in now.

“then she’s here.” sukuna barks out, that smile-smirk gracing his lips. “fuck are we waiting for?” his eyes find their way to yours and you’re convinced they taunt you, a breath hitching in your throat. every time sukuna comes around, it always gets harder for you breathe.

you’ve known sukuna for a few years now — yuji, megumi, and nobara too. you’ve even come to meet the itadori siblings half brother, choso, who really only

comes around on big holidays due to strain between their parents, to which of neither of their faults.

five years ago, when you first moved to the rolling hills of the suburbs, nobara was the friend you made but not the first person you met. megumi was the first person you met in your accelerated history class but he didn’t come off that welcoming. it wasn’t until nobara introduced you into the long-standing friend group that he even became open to the idea of accepting you into his general circle.

somewhere along the line, after months of establishing a friendship with yuji and spending time after school at his house, you met sukuna, the slightly older brother who could be described as a bit rude and blunt, slightly abrasive. sukuna never had a filter and he speaks as he sees it, through his world view. you suppose it’s that harsh demeanor that draws you to him out of curiosity.

“ ☆ said she’s bored so we were going to race. cops are about to be called anyway; we’re making so much noise.” yuji pulls his car keys out of his pocket and click the little unlock button. behind you, the cylindrical latch jumps up with a shick!

“we are?” megumi reels his head back in confusion but his question falls on deaf ears because you’re asking a question too, with more purpose, whipping your head to stare at yuji.

you look suddenly frightened, eyes widens dan mouth hanging open, gobsmacked. there’s a small twinge of fear that sparks in the base of your warm tummy. “who is about to be called?” you stand on your feet, solid in the fresh white new balances.

you can’t afford that, the three of them know that. your future holds too much to risk, with another year wt your prestigious college approaching at the summer months dwindle away. you’ve never had so much of a blemish on your file in school. you’d never be open to committing a crime in public and sending an infraction to be documented in a report.

you’re convinced your internship would be flushed down the drain if you get even a minor infraction, not to mention the pushback from your parents. though you, yourself, are twenty years old and only return home for the summer, you can only imagine what they’d have to say.

sukuna clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes. he’s always been a little sassy like that, angling his head in the direction of his yamaha. “relax, princess. if you’re so worried ‘bout your daddy finding out, ride with me. no chance they’re catching me and i don’t have any tags.”

you’re unconvinced, squinting your eyes at the two seater. your attention bounces between the bike and sukuna, wrapped safely in the safety of stiff fabrics to protect him from any possible accidents, breathable enough for him to move comfortably. “i don’t have a helmet, sukuna.”

“i do,” yuji shifts his car keys in his hand until his thumb skims across the smooth depiction of the trunk of his car. the keys jingle around the ring, once silver and tarnished after months of use.

he pops his trunk open and round the back until he’s standing at the tail of the silver caymen, peering into the squared space. yuji plants his hands on his hips and scans the mess, glancing over discarded papers, shoes he’s been meaning to take out for months, and other junk that’s been collected from friends throughout the weeks. “there should be one in here. i keep a spare on me.”

“it might be too big, though. your head is like . . . huge. i don’t know how you’re still so stupid with a bobble head on your shoulders.” megumi chortles. a tanned nike makes contact with a pebble and it goes skittering along a thick white line and disappears beneath yuji’s two-seater.

“it’s sukuna’s, you goof.” yuji’s voice maintains that lightness he always has, reaching into the upper layer of his trunk to dig around. he pulls down a few jackets, nobara’s blanket, and a purple hair tie.

underneath the layers and layers of multicolored fabric lays another helmet, white in color and just as shiny as the one sukuna sports now. it’s a bit more dinged up, covered in scratches and scuffs from being tossed around.

“oh, you got nothing to say because it’s mine now, right?” sukuna raises an amused brow. these days, he’s taken a bit of a liking to megumi, having grown some version of twisted brotherly love that makes him push and push at his buttons, knowing megumi wouldn’t fight back. he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. anyone fighting sukuna is predestined to a losing battle.

megumi knows this, lifting and dropping his shoulders in a careless shrug. “whatever. i’m going to go look for nobara since obviously, no one else cares.”

you can’t help but snort. “don’t pussy out, megu. you were the one who said you’re not her babysitter and now you wanna look for her.”

he casts you a glare on his way out, prolonging his gaze over his shoulder as he turns, digging the heel of his shoe into the black asphalt. “piss off,” he spits out before wandering away with purpose.

small giggles escape the plump gates of your lips as the man’s shadow disappears into the crowd, hazy and cheering as cars race by, occasionally accompanied by a motorcycle or two. it all reminds you of your original conquest, turning your attention to yuji, and just in time too, because he’s tossing the white helmet in your direction without warning.

“yuji, what the fuck?” you’re lucky that you acted fast, even if your fingers fumble clumsily to maintain a firm grip. “you could have said something. were you just going to let it hit me?”

yuji raises his hands apologetically. under the streetlights, his cheeks brighten with a subtle rosy glow. his wordless apology isn’t enough, though, and you’re prepared to scold him some more but sukuna beats you to it, sighing obnoxiously.

“quit your fussing, put the damn thing on, and let’s go. i don’t have all night and i haven’t done shit since i got here.” he takes the initiative to walk up to you and pull it over your head himself. he doesn’t have time to hear you wail and cry about how you don’t know how to do it, how you don’t appreciate how he’s talking to you, or whatever else your princess brain could come up with.

he supposes that’s the side effect that comes with growing up upper middle class, being so accustomed to living the plush and comfortable life that you feel every little thing is an injustice to you. after all, your mom works as a dentist and your dad a physical therapist.

for as long as you can remember, every wish and whim of yours has been granted. your parents went as far as enrolling you in the expensive, competitive dance classes. you spent many weekends at friend’s houses, sleeping over and riding with them to and from competitions when your parents weren’t able to take you themselves. on top of that, you’ve always attended the best private schools your parents could afford, leading you to a gateway of open doors and opportunities you would have otherwise missed out on. you’re a spoiled little thing; sukuna supposes that’s what draws him into you, a sort of fascination, a morbid curiosity.

your grumbles become muffled behind the thick layer of polycarbonate and sukuna smiles. finally, peace. “hey brat,” he turns to his brother — who’s playfully shaking his head, slamming the hood of his trunk shut — “stick with fushiguro. he ain’t smart, either. last thing we need is the both of ‘em locked up overnight. i don’t have the funds to get ‘em out.”

the younger itadori, much better at complying with directions, shakes the mop of hair on his head and tucks his hands in his pockets. “okay fine, i guess. i’ll text you later if something happens and meet you somewhere, i guess.” nevertheless and despite his slight complaint, yuji gets settled into his car and rolls away, headlights illuminating thin clouds of smoke.

all that’s left is you and sukuna, standing in front of each other. for a moment, you consider this could be a sweet sentiment. that is until he knocks the palm of his hand against your helmet, sending your head off balance and derailing what coordination you did have.

“sukuna.” you grit your teeth and deliver a similar blow to his helmet. it lacks the similar strength and yet, his eyes flash with annoyance.

“hit me again and i’ll kill you. do you want a lose helmet or do you want to keep your head.”

you scowl, invisible behind the dark tint. you say nothing in return, partly because your voice is exhausted from having to yell just to be heard. the other part is because arguing with him is pointless. so you just huff, brush past him, and stand by his bike until he’s ready, signifying you’re going to drop the conversation and move on to more important things. what a dick, he is.

you aren’t entirely sure how it happened. one moment you’re sitting on the back of sukuna’s bike, arms wrapped around his waist and pressing your chest against his back. he drives around at much slower speeds than he usually would, for your sake. he takes a few laps around the crowd and occasionally kicks you off to showcase his skills, throwing his weight to the edge of his seat and lifting the front wheel of his bike. this particular part trick gets cheers from the crowd that only encourages his behavior and sends pleasant adrenaline coursing through his vein.

ten minutes later, you’re still off sukuna’s bike but hidden within the empty courtyard of the mall. you’re still under the moonlight, yet no one has bothered to come this far, not interested in the empty marble fountain or the metal seating, all placed strategically on the pavement. your butt is firmly planted on the metal table. the black paint still stands strong against the forces of nature.

your legs are pulled apart to make room for the figure in between you and then some, with calloused hands gently circling around your joints. it’s surprising when you think about the contrast in the way he kisses you, hard and with a fervent hunger. he doesn’t even have to hold your head against his because you’re doing the work for him, looping your arms around sukuna’s neck.

it was inevitable that you’d both end up thisp way, after all the tension was palpable between you. once everyone else left you in the company of each other, your fates were set in stone. plus, there is always something so intoxicating about being with each other this way, bantering or barely talking in front of the group but sneaking off to have secret escapades, much like this one.

you couldn’t count on both hands the amount of times you’ve locked lips with sukuna when no one else was around and if you were lucky, it would venture into something more. now though, you’re outside so the only thing you really can do is kiss each other, connected by strings of saliva.

it started off plain and simple but that didn’t last very long. it only takes a few seconds for the need to take over and sukuna ends up sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. he nibbles on the skin, pulling it back and releasing it. it bounces back into place with a soft juggle, interrupted by the onslaught press sukuna’s lips against yours again.

you’re a whining mess, the heated region between your thighs craving more, wanting his touch. yet, you can’t have it and you know it. there’s too much that could go wrong and if sukuna was going to touch you, then he was going to fuck. it would have an ending, an orgasm from at least one of you that isn’t promised in such an unstable and risqué situation.

“ ‘kuna,” you keen against the soft pads of his pink lips. your eyes flutter in tandem with you cunt, gaping for any friction available.

it’s so funny to him how that switch flips somewhere in your brain that makes you so pliant and only with him. you look at him to make all your decisions, handing over your autonomy and placing it in his hands. when you want something, he can tell. you look at him with a certain glint in your blown out, brown eyes. your mouthiness suddenly halts and you plead in that tone.

“don’t start,” he shushes you by sticking his tongue down your throat, swirling the wet muscle around the cavern of your mouth. your spit combines in a sloppy mess that just barely gathers in the corners of your mouth. “i don’t wanna hear it. don’t ask me shit.”

you frown but it doesn’t last very long, not when sukuna takes your chin between his fingers and lifts your head. his lips make contact with your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin there, too. it makes you gasp with a twitch and sukuna offers his apologies by lapping at the faint marks left in his wake. “and fix your face, spoiled. got you dickmatized so bad you just don’t know what to do, huh?”

you turn your fingers towards the nape of sukuna’s neck, brushing the silky brown undercut. “s - shut up,” you mumble. a small flame of humiliation sparks to life inside you. your senses are slow the wake with sukuna’s light degradation. maybe you only feel that way because it’s true and almost out of character for you.

however, you’re thrown right back into that state of submission when sukuna lifts his head. “and just who are you talking to? you want to try that again?” his eyes have hardened over with a firmness yet he seems entertained by your weak bite back.

you feel a bit stuck as different variants of responses flash through your head at rapid speed. you could apologize, you could double down, you could even dismiss it. no matter what decision you make, there still isn’t much that he could do. you’re in public and that is you’re one solace.

you’re interrupted before you can get a single word you. sukuna’s phone buzzes on the table beside you, lighting up due to the quick text yuji sent from wherever he was. the man standing comfortably between your limbs leans in the direction of his phone, staring at the screen until the text is readable and unlocked.

yuji : bibs here. leave rn

“lucky girl,” he says, red eyes skimming the four words before patting your leg and taking a step back. “yu saved your ass. guess you owe him somethin’.” sukuna reaches for his helmet and pulls it over his head once more. he waits for you to get the clue to do the same but in the meantime, he’s already gone to start his bike and roll it up beside you. “gotta get you outta here. i’ll take you home. get on.”

#ִ •°. *࿐. *. ⋆ ▻ 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙡𝙪 #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader

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arumidden · 26 days ago

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Agatha All Along Finale Thoughts (A Lot of Them)

Honestly, found the finale kind of a let down. It felt so lackluster and wobbly compared to how insanely strong and awesome Lilia’s episode had been last week. I have a LOT of thoughts and here’s what I felt about each part (spoilers below cut):

About Rio/Death:

I feel like a lot about Rio/Death kinda of fell flat because of a) how they fought her, and b) Agatha turning into a ghost.

The fight felt weirdly lackluster to me. Partly because it somewhat devolved into CGI effects when this whole show has relied on more practical stuff, but also because of the way Agatha flip flopped between (seemingly) legitimately trying to offer Billy to Rio and trying to defend him by sacrificing herself. Clearly, Agatha is projecting Nicholas onto Billy, so why even bother with her still offering him up in the final battle? Why not have Agatha say that she’s not gonna let Rio take another boy she cares about before his prime and give her a heroic sacrifice and redemption?

Since we know that Rio said Billy would have to kill himself, since Rio can’t kill him herself, so why not instead have Rio try and egg Billy into offing himself by feeding his fears that by trying to find/save Tommy, Billy has killed an innocent boy. Rio hands Billy her knife and Billy tries to kill himself but Agatha stops him, takes the knife and stabs herself instead.

Plus, Agatha turning into a ghost so quickly really cheapens Rio as a villain. The whole point of her is that she is inescapable, and this is Agatha finally reaching the end of the road, both the Witches’ Road and her own life. For her to come back as a ghost immediately shows that this ending has no real importance or weight, and that Rio/Death is a kinda pathetic villain. All that build up just for Agatha to essentially escape immediately? Why not have Agatha reach the afterlife, see Nicholas, and feel like she needs to help at least one other boy achieve his live goals before she can stand to face Nicolas? So she begs Rio to let her right this wrong and Rio maybe reluctantly agrees? Or maybe even Rio says that Agatha got a long time before Rio lets her go again, and have Agatha return as a ghost only after Billy has reached some other hardship in the future and he summons her for help, letting her serve as a surprise return?

About Nicholas:

How does Nicholas’ story make any continuity sense? Doesn’t this episode contradict the hallucination Agatha had in episode 3? Why would she hallucinate seeing Nicholas’ cradle with the darkhold inside of that never even happened? Everyone else had hallucinations that were accurate and reflected their real traumas. Why does Agatha have one that is based on rumors? Is it meant to be that Agatha’s worst fear/trauma is what the others think of her? Cause that seems incredibly out of character.

Also, was Agatha killing witches to keep Nicholas alive longer, or just because she was greedy and wanted their power? I really wasn’t sure; it wasn’t super clear.

Why not have Agatha be tempted by the darkhold and sacrifice Nicholas for it, only for her to regret it and try to bring him back, so she kills witches/makes human sacrifices to Rio in an attempt to balance it out? This way, the line about the truth being worse than what actually happened is still correct? Cause honestly I don’t know how the truth is somehow worse than the rumor that she sold Nicholas for the darkhold. The kid just died randomly in his sleep.

About The Road/The Ballad:

I’m also not a huge fan of the Ballad being something Agatha and Nicholas just made up. It feels like it cheapens both the experiences of the coven as a whole and especially Lorna and Alice’s deaths. Their whole lives circled around the song, so for it to all turn out to be one of Agatha’s cons feels dirty.

Plus, if the ballad was a real song (whether the Road itself was real or not doesn’t even matter), I think it could have been a better push for Agatha to become a better mentor for Billy. The idea being that Agatha had tried to reach it in the past but failed because she just wasn’t Scarlet Witch levels of powerful would’ve given her a reason to steal other witches’ powers, thinking that she could maybe get around Rio and bring Nicholas back to life by defeating the Road. At some point, she’s become so powerful but still can’t reach the Road, so she figures it must be a myth and concedes to using it as a con to trick witches, only for Billy to finally open/create the Road himself. This shows Billy as being on a whole other level of power from Agatha, setting him up to be even more powerful than her or Wanda.

About Jen:

Hell yeah Jen survived the road. But what did she do that was so important in the last trial? Didn’t Lilia say Jen was going to be important? All she did was figure out how to unbind herself, and then Billy and Agatha figured out the rest in their own. Also, her leaving without tying up the loose ends or even saying goodbye to Billy afterwards felt wrong. Her arc was coming to care about the others. So why did she disappear as soon as she left the road? I think Billy being shocked to see her all covered in dirt in his room would’ve been a better ending, especially since I think she would be more empathetic towards Billy and understanding of his fear that he killed the others on the road. Plus, she could’ve then asked him if he got what he wanted out of the Road, which he could use as his segue into Finding Tommy.

#agatha all along #agatha spoilers #agatha harkness #agatha all along spoilers #nicholas scratch #rio vidal #billy kaplan #billy maximoff #aaa spoilers #aaa #agatha #alice wu gulliver #jennifer kale #lilia calderu #God that finale made me more frustrated the more I thought about it #Frustrated enough that I had to rant about it

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

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Tell Me a Secret | Stiles Stilinski

“Okay, one more. One more.”

Stiles groans as he tosses an arm over his eyes in a playful attempt to hide from your invasive line of questioning. “God, fine. Go.”

“Okay.” You sit up a little higher in bed. “Okay, if Lydia is riding you…and somebody dies…and she screams…I mean…you’re dead, right? Like boom. Face melted and just…dead.”

His arm drops as he rolls his head over to look at you. “Oh…my God—”

“Am I wrong?” you argue. “No, because I was thinking about it—don’t look at me like that—I was thinking because…I mean, even a gag wouldn’t help, right? Cause if she screamed, it would just be…disintegrated. Right?”

He blinks at you, lips dancing with the idea of smiling. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead fucking serious,” you correct, expression firm. “No, honestly, I’ve always wondered this. Because…I mean like, a sex scream is definitely different from a banshee scream, right? ’Cause it only applies to death. And not like, ‘Oh, you murdered this pussy,’ kind of death. But like…dead people death, right?”

He blinks at you, doing his absolute best not to laugh.

“So, if you’re anywhere near her when it happens…and she has to scream—cause she can’t stop it—I mean…like you’d be dead. I mean…right?”

With an amused sigh, he rolls his lips into his mouth. “I don’t know. I guess? We never really…I mean that was never really a problem.”

“Right, right. Cause she was more worried about killing you in a car.” You nod as his eyes roll. “Feel like the sex-scream would be a lot more troubling, but whatever. Okay, next question.”

He groans and flops over onto the other side of the bed.

“So…Malia, right? Like she’s the one that introduced you to bondage, I’m assuming,” you begin, scooting closer despite his protests. “How did that…I mean, how would that have worked exactly? Like were you into tying her up, was she into tying you up…cause I saw the rope and handcuffs, so you can’t tell me that wasn’t a thing—”

Suddenly, just before you can even finish your train of thought, he’s flipping back over and lunging at you.

You have about two seconds to catch your breath before he’s managed to wrangle you onto your back as he straddles your waist.

Instantly, a breath catches in your throat as he smirks down at you, his large hand smoothing up your neck to capture your jaw in his palm.

“Are you done?” he murmurs, slowly dipping down to bring himself closer to you. “Because…I don’t want to think about them right now. In fact, I don’t even want you to think about them. I just want you...to think…about…me.”

The tip of his button nose brushes against yours as your lashes flutter. “I’m just confused…about…the logistics,” you pant faintly as he grins.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says firmly. “Only thing that matters is you. Us.” He leans back to catch your eye. “Yeah?”

You nod quickly.

“Good,” he whispers, head tilting until his lips can ghost over yours, sadistically teasing you with a kiss. “’Cause I’ve got something I wanna show you tomorrow.”

You perk up, fingers mindlessly tangling in his white sleep shirt. “Oh? What?”

Now, he moves to your cheek, mouth trailing along your feverish skin as you swallow a whine. “You always wanted to see Eichen House, yeah?”

Your eyes widen.

“Well, they’re tearing it down in a couple of weeks,” he continues, taking note of your excitement. ��Thought we’d give it one last look.”

You gasp as you push on his chest until you can fully see his face. “Wait, really? You’ll take me? Actually?”

Stiles nods, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. Eichen House (and Beacon Hills in general, for that matter) has always been a sore spot between the two of you.

He likes to keep you safe in this part of his life. He likes who he is now.

With you.

And the idea of introducing you to how things used to be...how he used to be...

He was sure you'd never be able to look at him the same.

You'd done your best to assure him that you didn’t care about his life before. Because everybody has a past, and that's not something he can change.

It's nothing something you want him to change.

You love this Stiles. You always will.

He hadn't seemed too convinced before.

But now, well...now it looks like your nagging has finally done you some good.

You throw your arms around his neck to pull him down in a grateful kiss as he exhales a laugh and slides his hand down your side.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his bottom one. “It’s not gonna change anything between us, you know.”

“I know.” He’s quiet. Reluctant, even.

You know how much of himself he has to be fighting just to give this to you.

So, you decide to take his mind off it.

After all, it’s the least you can do.

“And once we’re there, you can show me all the places you and Malia did it,” you add eagerly, and you’re rewarded with the sound of his annoyed groan.

“Oh, that’s it,” he declares, wrapping an arm around your back to roll you both over to the other side of the bed.

And you’re more than okay with that.

Part one, maybe??? Listen, I thought going with them to Eichen House might be kind of funny so 😭

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#dylan #dylan o'brien #stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinksi #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o’brien imagine

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huggybearhughes43 · 10 days ago

Note

Dom Ethan finding out his shy best friend likes to read spicy hockey books and it leads to smut

Really, smut?

A/n: So… I’m alive

Warnings- Friends with benefits, oral (fem! Receiving), that’s basically it

Summary- in request

Word count- 1k

Ethan hiked up the stairs of his best friends apartment. Practice sucked today and he really really needed to see her before he actually went ballistic. He flops his duffle bag down before knocking on the door. He hears a soft ruffling and a creak to notify him that she was looking through the peephole. A quiet yet excited, “oh!” Was heard through the door which already began to cheer Ethan up. She opens the door with a bright smile, “Hi Ethan!” She can already tell he’s upset but she figured since he was just at practice she already knew why. She realizes she’s standing in front of the door and she moves out the way to let him in.

He picks up his bag again and moves it inside, muttering and quiet thank you as he walked past her. Her nose scrunches as she closes the door and looks back at Ethan, “stinking up my whole apartment with that bag.” He smiles brightly, his mood already being way better than before, “Sorry, Princess.” She rolls her eyes at the nickname and sits down on her couch that wasn’t too far away. There was a book on the side table that Ethan couldn’t quite make out the cover of but he didn’t think anything of it knowing his friend’s tendency to read.

He plops down on the couch next to her and steals the remote to change the channel. “Hey-“ she begins to protest him changing her drama show but he loops at her with an exaggerated pouting face and she crumbles. “Okay, fine.” She huffs and magically the pout turns into a big smile while he turns the channel to a New Jersey Devils game. He turns his head with a random curious surge to look at his book. A look of confusion washes over his face as he picks up the book and examines the cover.

“You read books about hockey?” She looks up from her phone and her face contorts to one of slight horror at the book named “icebreaker” in his hands. “Uh…” she thinks of something to say but he doesn’t wait for her words and flips to a random page. “Wait! Ethan-“ she reaches to yank the book away but he’s quick to pull it out of her reach as he begins to read aloud, "That isn't a yes. Do I need to get on my knees and beg you, Anastasia? Is that what you want?” She shakes her head and laughs. "The only time I ever want to see a grown man on his knees in front of me. Nate, is when his face is in between my legs. So no, I don't want you to beg me."

Ethan’s wondering eyes peek back at his best friend, audibly laughing when he sees her red face in her palms out of embarrassment. “What? Do you think the same, y/n?” He jokingly falls to his knees in front of her, abandoning the book onto the couch. “Ethan please get back up” she whines and he just shakes his heads and laughs. “No can do, not until you answer me.” She peaks between her fingers to see Ethan Edward’s on his knees right in front of her knees with puppy dog eyes. He was clearly faking it, in her six years of being his best friend she knew for a fact he wanted to burst out laughing right now.

“Come on, Ethan” she nearly begs him to get back to his feet but he shakes his head. “I’m supposed to begging right now. Or, no wait- should my face be in between your legs.” He teases and y/n just shakes her head but stays silent. “You aren’t saying no.” “Ethan-“ “tell me to stop and I will” he shrugs softly and almost smirks when he doesn’t hear any protests. “Ethan…” “yeah?” “Please” the word slips out as if instinct. “Yes ma’am” he kisses each knee before slipping his hands to tug at her sleep shorts.

They’d never gone this far before. Sure, they’d made out a few times and left a few marks but they’d always stopped after that. Still, it felt natural for Ethan to be this close. What harm could it result in? Everyone on campus already knew they were a thing, so what did it matter?

Ethan slipped her shorts off along with whatever underwear she was wearing under. He pushes her knees apart to get closer. “If I knew you fantasized about this kinda stuff I would’ve done this a lot sooner.” He smiles softly from between her legs and she finally lets her hands fall into his hair instead of covering her face. “Ethan…” “I got you, baby.” His eyes don’t break contact with hers as her dives his tongue into his best friend’s tight hole.

“Oh~” she throws her head back, finally breaking the eye contact as he laps at her. She could feel the smirk against her at her reaction. She nearly bit her bottom lip off at the attempt to keep her sounds away from her neighbors ears. With just the mere feeling of his tongue she was already teetering the edge of her orgasm. She tugs harshly at his dirty blonde hair and he knew immediately why. She looks back down at him, their eyes connecting once again. His moments don’t falter, his mouth pushing her over the edge.

He continues his moments to both allow her to drag out the orgasm and to collect all the juices he could on his tongue. He pulls away with a goofy smile, “you taste amazing.” She rolls her eyes and tugs at his shirt. “Can you get up now?” “Oh come on, don’t pretend that wasn’t amazing” he stands up and sits back next to her, helping her back into her shorts. “Not my point” “see, I knew it.” She can’t help but smile at his goofy and happy expression. “What if I told you people imagine you as the main guy in that book?” Ethan smirks, “what if I told you I already knew that.”

#smut #nhl #hockey smut #new jersey devils #ethan edwards smut #umich smut

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shawtythatluvsurgut · 23 days ago

Note

What made you go from feeder/ffa to feedee?!

Also, what is your biggest feedism kink that really gets you going?

(before you read this, please know that nothing i said in response should be taken as me being upset with OP because i am not at all upset with this ask)

i’ll answer the bottom part in my video, but i want to address the top question because i received it more than once.

I am still a feeder. I am still a FFA. I’m a part-time feedee and FULL-TIME feeder.

I am not saying that i’m not a feedee because, I mean, cmon look at my page lol. but i am still a feeder first and foremost. that will never change. i decided to get into testing out the feedee role because i didn’t have anyone irl who i knew that was into feedism or even willing to try it. my last partner made me think he was into it for a bit, but then did a huge 180. it wasn’t until one of my close ‘friends’ (😏) and i started flirting a bit that i realized he was actually into the idea and it brought me back into feeder mode. just because i am dipping my toe into the feedee realm does not mean that i am not a feeder first, so please stop taking that title from me.

i know i have a lot to prove. between my dad’s health rapidly declining which led to my disney arc being cancelled and also my constant switch between feedee and feeder content, i know i’ve disappointed quite a few people recently. for that, i am sorry, but i also don’t regret spending that time with my ill father instead of making feedism content at disneyland ngl. i know a lot of people were pissed (i can tell by how many subs i lost) and i do feel bad and sincerely apologize, but life gets in the way of work at times and i needed to prioritize life in that moment. as for my indecision between being a feedee and a feeder, ive realized that im much more into the feeder role. i love eating and doing it for you all to enjoy which is why im not rejecting the feedee position and am still leaning into it, but i get much more pleasure from being a feeder. i’m much more into the dominance and control that i get as a feeder. however, i do like the plushness on my body that i obtained from being a feedee. i say this all to make the point that i still play both roles, but Feeder will always be my main role. it comes to me naturally and sometimes i have to force myself to be a feedee which can kinda ruin it over time.

also please keep in mind that i’m 21, so i’m still at an age where i flip flop between my sexual identity so so so frequently. I like being a feedee at times, but i always have and always will LOVE being a feeder. now that i have the december trip planned and have someone willing to let me feed them that i also happen to know really really well, im excited to get back into my feeder mode. i will probably switch between the two for a while, and i’m sorry if that annoys any of you.

also, just because i mainly feel like a feeder does not mean i am planning to get ripped or skinny again or any of that. i’m just not focused on gaining right now and haven’t had the appetite or $$ to do stuffings. i am not trying to lose weight; it is just happening naturally due to life circumstances. please stop messaging me accusing me of being a fake feedist or saying that im ‘intentionally getting skinny again’ because that is not true. i don’t care what my size is tbh, im comfortable in my body, i just have other priorities right now and a lack of appetite.

just please stop trying to imply that i’m no longer a feeder because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. it sucks having other people tell you who you are, especially when you’re still figuring that out for yourself. please keep that in mind.

thank you and ily guys. and NO I AM NOT MAD lol. i am not mad at this ask at all; just wanted to clarify what my role in this community is and that is full-time feeder/part-time feedee.

Thank you.

Nico

#ffa #female feeder #ask box #my asks #female feedist #submission #female feedee #nico speaks

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mermaidxatxheart · 2 years ago

Text

Ribbed II

This is the sequel to Ribbed. I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs show me love.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 4450

Warnings: Benny is taking over as the pussy eating king. Sorry Pedro, usual smut, idk. does it even matter?

Previous Part

Master List

Come over.

You stare at the text message for a solid minute before dropping your phone onto your desk. Benny needed to stop. What happened between the two of you last week could never happen again. He’s your brother’s best friend, and if Mick ever found out, he would probably explode.

Please?

You groan and flip your phone screen down to avoid temptation. You flex your fingers over your keyboard and try to focus on your work. But the memory of Benny crowds your memory, fighting for dominance at the forefront of your brain.

“That’s my girl.” Whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder. “So fucking good.” A breathy moan, your name a desperate plea that traces down your spine.

“God damn it.” You mutter, grabbing your phone.

I have air conditioning.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You type out a quick reply, fingers flying over the keys on your screen.

We can’t. It has to be just the one time. We were drunk. It doesn’t count.

Setting your phone down, you shake your hands as you try to rid yourself of the anxiety bubbling up inside you.

I don’t want it to be just the one time. It definitely counts if I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.

You press your thighs together, fighting against the memory of the way he felt there. The tender feel of his lips against yours. It didn’t feel like a random hookup at the time, but you’re definitely a coward. You’ve been avoiding both Benny and your brother ever since that night.

Come over.

Staring at his name, with his picture, your weak will power crumbles and your fingers are typing before you can really protest or talk yourself out of it.

…..when?

Tonight?

You sigh, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

Fine. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work!

He doesn’t text you back, but that’s just as bad. Jesus, fix it.

***

You pull up in front of Benny’s house, looking at the windows with no small amount of trepidation. You can’t loiter outside all night and if you don’t show, he’ll just pester you until you do. You shut off the engine and climb out, heading for the front door.

Your fist hovers over the wood for a long time as you get your courage up. If he doesn’t have you naked within ten minutes, it’ll be a miracle.

You groan, give your whole body a forceful shake and rap quickly on the door before you can talk yourself out of it. You stare at the welcome mat beneath your heels, wishing you had stopped at home to change out of your work dress and into comfortable leggings and flip flops. The wait stretches out and you tell yourself you’ll give him thirty more seconds before you leave and tell him you knocked but he didn’t answer. His fault.

Then the door opens and a gust of what can only be described as Benny hits you and your knees go weak. Irish spring soap, hint of sweat, old spice deodorant, and something specific to him that makes it all work.

“Hey, I’m just making-wow.” He says softly and you look up, frowning. You wish you hadn’t. He’s wearing gym shorts that hang loosely on him, a Motley Crüe tee shirt, his stupid backward hat, and a dish towel slung over his broad shoulder. Droplets are clinging to his hair, like he’s just gotten out of the shower. Looking so domestic shouldn’t be such a turn on. You have to force yourself not to notice all the little things about him that make you want to drop your panties right here in the doorway.

“What?”

“You look amazing.” He says, stepping back to let you in.

“Oh.” You enter carefully, determined not to slip on the polished hardwood floor. Benny never struck you as the type to have his shit together. He seems like the type that bounces around from apartment to apartment when his lease is up, the bare minimum of furniture: a couch, a tv, a bed. But his house is… nice. The hardwood floors are well taken care of, polished, clean, dust free. There are pictures and decorations hanging on the wall, some of it art, some of it personal. There’s a rug under a coffee table and the most comfortable looking couch you’ve ever seen, plush and tall. It looks like it will cradle you and support you in all the right ways. There’s a damn shoe rack by the door, what the fuck.

You pause, looking at the shoe rack with his boots and sneakers lined up neatly. You lift your foot to pull off your heel and he stammers.

“You can leave them on.” He manages and you chuckle.

“I don’t wanna scratch your floors.” You say, but also, your toes are cramping. He offers his hand for you to use as balance and you grip it tightly, pulling off your shoes and placing them on the rack. You look back up at him, significantly taller than you now.

“You said you were making something?” You prompt and he nods, pulling the towel off his shoulder.

“Chicken Marsala.” He says, turning and heading for the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I thought maybe we could talk…” he trails off. He stirs a pot on the stove and you lean against the door frame, watching him.

“Talk?” You repeat.

“Yeah. I figure we owe it to each other.” He says, licking sauce off his finger as he meets your gaze. “Right?” You nod mutely. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some wine?”

“I think drinking is what got us into this situation.” You remind him and he grins.

“Fair.” He grabs a bottle of your favorite red wine and sets it on the island bar. “Whenever you want it.” He says, going back to cooking.

Oh, what the hell. You’re gonna need something to make it through this. You pour yourself a glass and move through to the living room. There’s a dining table off to the side, in front of some sliding glass doors to the backyard. There are actual chairs at the table, a complete set. Color you impressed.

A polished mirror hangs over a side table with pictures of him and his war buddies. You look at the pictures, Benny catching your eye in every single one. Strong, tall, competent. Then you lift your gaze to the mirror and spot him watching you from the kitchen. He sends you a warm smile, wiping his fingers on the towel. You straighten your shoulders and a mark at the base of your neck catches your attention.

Instantly, you remember Benny over you, pressing you into your couch, sucking and biting on your neck as you cum around him. Your face flushes and you drop your gaze once more. You need stronger willpower. But then, there’s a reason your gym membership has lapsed and there’s a half eaten package of Oreos you got yesterday.

Soft fingers trail lightly down your arm and your entire body electrifies. You suck in a breath, looking up to meet Benny’s gaze in the mirror. You can see the plates on the table but as you turn, you only have eyes for him. His gaze is intense, trapping you. Memories of that night dance through your mind, the way he felt on you, the desperate way he held you.

You want it again. Your brain short circuits and before you know it, you’ve pulled him to you and you’re kissing him.

God, you don’t realize how much you need this. His hands grip your back, lifting you and kissing you like his very life depends on it. He lifts you up and walks you backward into the edge of the table, still kissing you desperately. You moan against his lips, dragging in a ragged breath of air before giving back into him.

His lips are feverish as they trail down your jaw, your neck, leaving blisters of pure bliss. He has you up on the table before you even realize it, leaving marks on your neck. The heat that blazes down your spine is unreal as you pull his face back up to yours.

Did he kiss you like this last time? This feels different, almost possessive.

His big hand slides up your thigh, avoiding that spot behind your knee as he grips the meat of it, spreading you a little wider for him. His hips are rocking against yours, dry humping you despite the fact that he towers over you.

Fuck, he’s a great kisser.

You rock back against him, trying to angle your hips for better friction. The heat is pooling low in your belly now, simmering while all of his attention is focused above your waist.

“Lean back.” He whispers, pulling away from your mouth just long enough to urge you backward. You want to keep kissing him, you never want the kissing to end, but the look in his pretty blue eyes has you obeying.

He drags his nose down your torso, kissing the fabric of your work dress as he goes, his fingers curling around the hem of it at your thighs. He pulls it up as far as the table will let him. He guides your feet to his shoulders, kissing your ankles.

“Lift your hips, baby.” He says and you hesitantly push against his shoulders. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He promises, gripping your calves. You push a little harder, surprised when he doesn’t budge an inch. Your hips lift off the table and he pushes your dress up over your waist, exposing your stomach as well. He steps closer, lifting you higher and he pulls your panties down slowly, watching them track down your thighs, over your knees, your shins before they’re dangling on your ankles in front of his face.

You expect him to push into you, primed as you are in this position, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kneels, lowering your legs slowly. He takes off your panties and they disappear, never to be seen again. He guides your legs to either side of his head, dragging his nose up your thighs, inhaling and kissing his way.

“You smell like heaven.” He murmurs, spreading your lips. “Fuck.” He moans, licking a slow stripe up your heated center. You whimper at the promise of pleasure. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, Benny Miller knows how to eat pussy.

His tongue flicks at your clit and the series of moves he does next leaves you breathless and gripping at his hair. His hat had been knocked off at some point during your make out session.

“B-Benny,” you gasp and he dives deeper, fingers gripping your waist as he holds you to him, drinking from you like he’s dying of thirst. His blue eyes flicker to yours and he buries his mouth against your clit, sucking it right off your body. He growls, it vibrates through you and you arch off the table at it. “F-fuck! Right there right there.” You urge and he doubles his efforts, shoving you head first over the edge. You cum in his mouth and he slurps it all up, not showing any sign of slowing down.

Your muddled mind flashes on a comment he made last week, Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand.

Oh god.

His tongue and lips are pulling noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. No part of you is left neglected by his mouth, he’s determined to live up to his word. Your legs are shaking as his tongue nudges and swirls and flicks at your clit. You’re trying not to trap his head between your thighs, but somehow you really don’t think he’d mind. He moans, and that needy sound sends you over the edge again. Your hips buck and you grab for his big hands. He laces his fingers with yours, blue eyes on your face again.

His tongue laps at your slit, catching your cum, but he doesn’t come up for air. He just keeps eating you. Puffs of his breath skate over your mound and he’s back to sucking your clit right off your body.

“B-Benny,” you gasp, vision spinning and you feel his grin. You try to pull at your stuff dress, it’s restricting, you can’t breathe in it. He urges you to one more orgasm, this time your legs do trap his head for a minute as you tremble through it. Then he pulls away, almost reluctantly, helping you sit up.

“Let’s get you out of this dress, baby.” He mutters, reaching around you to unzip it. You wrap your arms around his waist for support as he does the work. You can’t help yourself, you press kisses against his chest, nuzzling into him. He’s so solid, so permanent against you. In return, he’s kissing along your neck as he struggles with your zipper for a second. “How do you do this by yourself in the morning?” He mutters, lips fluttering against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. You moan, arching into him.

“It’s easier in the morning.” You pull at the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers along his taut muscles. You lift it up to expose his bare chest and you lick and kiss at him, blindly finding a nipple and teasing it with your tongue.

“Mmm.” He hums, finally sliding the zipper down. He pulls it, loosening the dress around you before lifting the dress off over your head. His lips are on yours before it’s even left his hands. He’s kissing you desperately, holding your body tight against his. Fucking shouldn’t have this much kissing, right? He shouldn’t be kissing you like his very life depends on it. And yet, you’re kissing him back just as hard. His fingers pinch your bra clasp and that’s gone in the blink of an eye. You’re fully naked on his dining room table.

“Can you stand?” He asks softly, pulling away enough to tilt your head back and kiss along your throat.

“Yeah, I think so.” You reply, holding onto his shoulders.

“Okay. Lay back.” He urges, kissing down your chest and trapping a nipple in his mouth.

You lay back, the wood cold against your newly exposed skin. He kisses his way down your body and spreads your thighs once more.

“You’re fucking delicious. I could spend hours doing this to you.” He says, tracing your clit lightly with his thumb. You buck your hips in response to the touch and he chuckles. “In fact, I just might.” He adjusts your hips and dives in again, starting off strong. You moan, not sure how much more you can take from his perfect mouth.

He lets your legs drape over his broad shoulders, big hands now cupping your tits and teasing your nipples as he eats you to blinding orgasm after orgasm. One bleeds into the next, your eyes are rolled back into your head, or crossed, you don’t even know. Your thighs are shaking constantly, but you can’t move, can’t squirm, he hasp you trapped. He’s making just as much noise as you are, moaning and growling possessively

After six, or maybe nine? You try to push his head away, whimpering. “N-n-no more.” You beg and he’s slow to pull off, still sucking your clit as he does.

“Fucking best pussy I’ve ever had.” He says, massaging your thighs a little. “You did so good.” He looks down at you, panting and boneless on his table. “Mhm, I need you like this every day.” He says, moving around you and hooking his arms under your knees and shoulders.

“Can’t handle every day.” You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “Okay, every other day.” You don’t even argue because you know now you don’t actually have the power to resist him. He’s too good, too much of what you need.

He sets you gently on the couch and starts undressing himself as you watch. He’s a fucking work of art, muscles within muscles, long and lean and powerful. You reach for him, wanting to taste him. He stopped you last time, but you need to this time, if only to give your poor cunt a break.

“Pretty girl,” he captures your wrist.

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “I wanna taste you.” You say softly and he groans, running fingers through his messy hair.

“Can you kneel?” He asks, moving around to the back of the couch. You nod and roll, propping yourself over the back of it. It’s the perfect height for him. He strokes his hard cock, giving it a forceful tug as you open your mouth. “If you make me cum before I have a chance to fuck you again,” he starts.

“I’ll just get you hard again.” You promise, reaching for his shaft. Remembering how good it felt inside you had you dripping. You’re not leaving without it tonight.

You lick the tip slowly, tasting the salt of his sweat, the sweet precum. You drag your tongue around the crown and slide him into your mouth. You suck as you pull him back out, focused like a laser on this part of him. In as deep as you can get him, sucking hard on his way out. Tongue flickering against the tip and massaging along the sensitive underside as you slide him in deep.

It isn’t until he grunts, fingers buried into the back of the couch that you think to look up at his face. Twisted in concentration, he’s watching your every move like a hawk. Your own eyebrows furrow, wondering if you’re doing it wrong.

He lets out a breathy chuckle and smooths your eyebrows back down. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me with your hot little mouth, I’m trying not to cum immediately.” He says and you smile around his cock.

You pull it out, licking down his shaft. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I wanna taste it. Plus, I came plenty in yours. Fair is fair.” You remind him, flicking your tongue out against his balls. He hisses. You lift his hand off the back of the couch and place it in your hair. Something about a man’s hand fisting in your hair as you suck him off has you weak. Especially if that man is Benny Miller.

You worship his balls for a minute, licking them, sucking them into your mouth as you watch his face, lazily stroking his shaft.

“Oh fuck.” He moans, pulling your hair tie out and gathering your hair in his hands. He definitely has a thing about your hair being down while he’s with you. He did it last time, too. “Right there, baby. Oh fuck, that’s perfect.” He moans.

You kiss back up his shaft, sliding him deep into your mouth, tapping the back of your throat as you start to bob your head. You grip his ass, pulling him closer so you can get deeper. He slides down your throat and you swallow around him. He growls and bucks his hips.

You start bobbing your head faster, using your tongue wherever you can reach. His hips are starting to thrust, too, and watching him use your mouth for his pleasure when so far he’s been all about yours, is such a turn on.

You pull him closer still, holding him in place where he can’t pull out at all. He’s throbbing in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer. You start sucking harder, massaging his balls. You look up at his handsome face, finding his eyes already trained on you. His cock swells in your mouth and you bury him down your throat, feeling him cum. You let him pull out slightly, his cum spurting onto your tongue and filling your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss, tasting it, rolling it around as you suck and massage his shaft for all of it.

Finally he pulls out and you swallow every last drop with a soft hum of approval.

“Fuck.” He surges forward, kissing you hungrily, fingers tangle in your hair as his tongue invades your mouth, licking into every corner and dancing with yours. You pump his cock, feeling how hard he still is. “You’re fucking perfect.” He groans, pulling back to look at you. You kiss him again but he only allows it for a second before pulling away.

He moves around the couch and you’re about to sit back down but he grabs your hips. “Stay right here, beautiful. This is how I want you.”

You arch your back down, presenting your cunt to him with a playful wiggle of your ass and he groans, spreading you and licking your cunt again. “So fucking good.” He moans, starting to eat you out once more. The desperate way he’s devouring you triggers an orgasm before you can even try to stop him. You cry out, bucking and grinding against his face. He really is insatiable. He holds you firmly in place as he eats you out again, this time sliding two fingers inside. You tighten around them involuntarily as he finds your g-spot. They stick to it like glue, rubbing in time with his mouth suck you and you’re seeing stars. Mouth hanging open as he drags another three orgasms from you this way. Your cum is dripping down your thighs, his elbow, his chin, but you can’t stop. He won’t let you.

You're nearly in tears when he finally pulls away, his fingers sliding out of your drenched cunt and leaving your trembling walls to flutter around nothing.

You feel his cockhead press against your entrance and he slides in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. His arms brace against the back of the couch, caging you in. You can feel his broad chest, mere inches from yours. He nestles home inside you, forehead resting against the back of your skull.

“Lean forward.” He urges, guiding you forward until you can’t anymore. He rocks into you slowly, shifting his arms around you, holding you. It’s so tender, so soft, it doesn’t belong with two people who are just fucking. But it feels right. It feels like Benny.

Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head, down the side until he reaches your ear. “Feel so fucking good around me.” He praises softly. “So fucking good. I can’t get enough of you.” He kisses down your neck. “I’ll make it okay.” He says and you frown slightly, wondering what he means, but his words are soon forgotten as he starts to move a little more inside you, building up to a good speed.

You whimper and he clutches your hands, holding you tight against him. You can only cling to his long fingers as he fucks you, that pleasure building fast. He’s filling you in a whole new way, reaching parts of you he didn’t last time. Kisses are pressed against your shoulder as he thrusts faster and faster, marks are sucked into your skin, claiming you for himself.

You didn’t notice the mirror hanging on the wall across from you. It’s hanging at the perfect height to see him fucking you, lost in pleasure as he buries his face in your neck. Puffs of breath on your heated skin, and he looks up, seeing you watching him in the mirror. Never mind your own fucked out look.

“So fucking pretty, baby. Look how good you’re taking my cock. Look how pretty you look.” He murmurs, his eyes trained on your face in the mirror. “Cum. Cum for me baby. See how pretty you are when you cum. See why I can’t get enough of you.” He urges, thrusting faster, deeper. He nibbles at your earlobe, fingers, still twisted in yours, pinching at a nipple. You buck, mouth falling open as he makes you cum. He kisses up your jaw, licking and sucking another love bite. “Fucking gorgeous.” He praises. “You have me wound so tight, I won’t last much longer, baby. You feel so good.” He growls.

One hand stays trapped around you. The other slides between your thighs, strumming your clit and you let out a pathetic cry, cumming again. Your walls squeeze and roll against his shaft, trying to keep him inside you.

“That’s it baby. So good. Squeeze me so tight.” He praises, keeping his fingers moving against your clit. “Keep watching us, pretty girl. Watch me cum inside you, fill you to the brim.”

Despite the fact that your eyes desperately want to roll back in your head, you watch him in the mirror. His forehead furrowed in concentration, his eyes focused on you and you alone, his hair messy from all the times you grabbed it while he ate you out.

Another pinch to your nipple, rolling it between his expert fingers. He licks a bead of sweat off your shoulder and you thrust back against him.

“Do it.” You tell him, watching his face in the mirror. “Fill me up. Cum inside me. I wanna feel you filling me.” You beg and his whole face relaxes. His forehead rests against your crown. He’s mumbling something but you can’t quite make it out. He doubles his efforts on your poor abused clit, forcing another final orgasm from you before he thrusts in completely, cumming inside you. He growls, thrusting once, twice, three times to bury all his cum where it belongs. You slump in his arms, completely worn out. He rests against you, not quite his full weight but enough of it to keep you where he wants you, under him. You watch his face in the mirror, entranced by the tenderness you see there.

He doesn’t move for a long time, keeping you stuffed full of his cock, making sure his cum doesn’t leak out. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly.

You nod. You’re better than okay. You’re orbiting Saturn in orgasmic bliss.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He offers and you look at him, twisting your face to the side.

“Yeah.” You nod and he kisses you deeply, leaving no doubt in your mind that this will happen again. Probably in a couple hours.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He pulls out of you with a reluctant groan and you have to agree. You’d like him to stay right there forever.

“Then can we eat?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing.

“Yeah, baby. We can eat.”

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose @littlenosoul

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