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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years ago

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So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

#actuallyautistic #not a shitpost #holy shit how did i spend 3 hours writing this what even is my blog #this blog is supposed to be blue whale anxiety and uncomfortably sexy clown jokes #what am i doing #sensory processing disorder #sensory issues #mental health #actually autistic #NOTIFY ME OF ANY TYPOS #i proofread this 5 times my eyes weep an unceasing flood of blood and regret #adhd #actuallyadhd #autism #sensory problems

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 5 years ago

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A Moment of Peace

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral (m & f), daddy kink, thigh riding, dom/sub, grinding, fluff, and some angst (I’m sorry it just happened I swear)

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: So I like to think I’m getting better at writing smut. We shall see. I also didn’t mean for some angst to seep through but I’m fucking terrible when it comes to that so I apologize in advance. The next chapter is a little filler one before the last two before hiatus. As always, requests, prompts, and taglist are open!

The Mandalorian’s Love Series

The Mandalorian could hear laughter. They were pure, chimed in a natural sense. Not completely sure on which planet he was on, Din inspected the green land laid out before him. Behind him was a cottage, beautifully decorated on the outside; he smelt hints of smoke in the air from the direction of it. There were fields and fields for miles, soft colors of flowers coloring patches around the fields. The air was fresh, and the distinct smell of rain was tanged in the sweetness of it, though the sun burned bright and heavy; his skin, beautifully tan, basked in the glow of it. This was a different kind of warmth, one Din had not felt in years; not as free now. He could feel it on his face too, and the simple feel of the rays terrified him at first. Din was shocked to see skin when he looked down at his hands. There were no gloves – considered to be second skin by nature – no helmet, no beskar armor or a weapon’s belt.

Before he could get over his shock, he heard his name being called out from afar.

“Go get him!”

It was Y/N. Even as disoriented and confused as he was now, the sound of her voice was enough to make him snap back.

He couldn’t get a good look of her though when two small figures abruptly tackled him with a giant hug. They giggled as he ‘oofed’ and nearly fell back.

“Hi daddy!” They said in unison.

Daddy. They called him dad.

“Hey, go easy on the old man!”

Din snapped his head up towards the tease. Y/N stood there, smiling that beautiful toothy smile that made him smile in return without fail; she was wearing a light blue dress, stopping just barely above her kneecaps. Her Y/C/H pulled in a half bun, Y/C/E still holding that gleam that Din could only describe as being solely hers; mesmerizing, unwavering.

The two moving kids still in his arms brought his attention back to them. On his right side was a girl, about near eleven years old, who resembled Y/N so much that it was scary; but there was no denying Din was there too, with the same pouty lips and small dimples. To his left, a boy, who looked to be six or seven; he definitely got his looks from his father, hair and eyes just as dark as Din’s, but somehow, he had Y/N’s smile.

“What’s wrong dad?” The boy asked.

They both pulled away to look at him, and Din found that he already missed their little arms wrapped around him.

“Uh,” he had to clear his throat. “N-nothing. Just�� feeling a little off is all.”

Y/N pursed her lips, obviously seeing through the lie. Not that it was a complete one anyway.

“Go run around a little, kids, we’ll join you guys in a minute.”

They both screamed with excitement and ran down the small hill leading to the field. Y/N strolled to Din’s side, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was natural instinct to lay his hands on her hips to bring her closer.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered gently.

Din should’ve shuttered at the constant feel of her skin against his like this, under the warmth of the sun and the feel of wind breezing between them; unfiltered and no defining barrier between them. He never felt this kind of stimulation before all at once, the sensory overload being nearly too much and yet he was so calm, so used to the feel of it at the same time. It was like switching back and forth between this Din Djarin and the old Din.

He wanted to say that they didn’t have this. That there was no possible way they could have this, at least not now. That maybe this was too good to be ever be real, because Y/N always deserved much more than what he could give her, and yet she still stayed, and she was still in love with him. That, he would never be able to really understand how or why, maybe not until Din was absolutely sure this is a reality for them.

Instead he said, “Nothing I’m just… I’m just happy.”

And that was true. His doubts, fears, and any insecurities they haven’t battled yet could all say that this was impossible for someone like him, but this moment of peace and content is enough to say that he can have a peaceful and happy life, so long as Y/N was still a part of the picture. He always prided himself on his independence, but he wanted to depend on Y/N, or more specifically their love; no matter how tragic or bitter, though he never wanted to think about it, their relationship could ever end, he would still want her love because it would always be a part of his happiness for him. It would always hold the part of him that finally felt worthy of the peace he longed to capture, that was capable of good and change.

Y/N grinned at him, pecking his lips softly. Din chased her lips, going in for a more slow kiss, mapping out her mouth as if this was the first; missed her taste.

She broke it with a soft giggle, placing a hand on his chest; his heart thudded softly against her palm.

“Now Djarin,” she drawled with a poke to his nose. “Save that for later,”

Din laughed and gave the tip of her nose a sloppy kiss, grinning even more at her squished expression.

“Yes, my lovely wife.”

They both turned to watch the boy and girl run around the meadow, giggling and screaming. Din smiled softly at the sight and hugged Y/N closer.

Din gasped. The first thing he felt was the soft scratchiness of his blanket against his face. The room was pitch black. The bed was cold, empty without Y/N. The hatch door was closed, but he could still hear the faint sounds of her voice, no doubt talking to the Child. He slowly sat up, feeling around blindly for his helmet as sleep was still evading his mind. When his knuckles brushed up against it he hesitated to put it on, remembering the dream and how free he felt. It shook him to the core, the hesitation; how far he was willing to go to get what he desperately desired.

He didn’t bother putting on his boots as he trudged off the cot, rolling and stretching his muscles; they were usually tense from the armor and the stiffness of the cot, and it seemed to be getting worst with age.

“Hey!” He heard the soft coo of her voice.

Walking towards the fresher, his heart stopped at the sight before him. Y/N was on her knees, hair pulled back in a bun and a bucket of water next to her, gently splashing water onto the giggly Child. The Child bent down to try and splash the water back and Y/N had to grab him before he could flop on his face. He found himself smiling at them, leaning against the doorway.

His wide brown eyes found him first. He raised his little green hand towards him, cooing at him. Y/N turned her head around, smile bright and whole.

“Hey,” she greeted. “There’s some food for you by the cockpit. Eat while I finish up here.”

Y/N wished she could see the smile that she didn’t doubt for a second crossed across his cheeks in that moment. She naturally leaned into his touch as he caressed her cheek, hands bare for now. He gave a gentle swipe across her cheekbone and bent down – she bit down her giggle at the creaks of his bones as he did, the soft, quiet grunt that quickly followed – to give the baby’s ear a soft caress of his own.

“Alright big guy,” Y/N exclaimed. “Let’s actually clean you up.”

The Child babbled back, plopping down on his little butt and going back to splashing. Y/N didn’t mind the water that spilled over her clothes. She washed the little gray hairs on his head gently, making sure none of the soap got into his eyes. After he was clean she let him play for a few more minutes in the water; he needed this, just as much as Y/N and Din needed this small but perfect moment of peace.

They were on a backwoods planet, nearly no habitants on the small, gray planet. It wasn’t the most ideal, but it would take at least a day or two before their signal was traceable again. There were on day two of their stay and would have to start moving as soon as night fell.

This was the first time since she started travelling with him where they could actually sit and relax, even for a little bit, without the threat of every bounty hunter known in the galaxy hovering over them. Y/N had to force Din to sleep the night before, because she was one-hundred percent positive that there were definitive dark circles under his eyes; the sluggish way in which he started to move and talk proved right.

He refused to sleep until she was next to him, wrapped up in her arms. She held him to her chest, gently messaging and scratching his back. His soft groans and sighs of content made her heart tighten, in such a good way, though it felt as if it was going to implode; she knew it was never going to go away. Din no doubt could hear it but chose not to say anything about it much to her relief. He needed to rest, and this was probably the only time he would be able to like this for a while.

It made her feel angry, and even more defensive and protective of him. He was on his own for so long before her and the Child came into the picture, and Y/N strived to make sure that he knew that no matter what, she was here now; that he could relax a little, could rely on someone else without the fear of them leaving.

The Child, now cleaned and clothed, snuggled into his pod, snuggling into his makeshift blanket. Din and Y/N only found out recently that the baby slept better with the scent of them pressed against him, so an old, tattered sweater of hers laid out underneath him as padding and one of his shirts laid atop the Child’s blue blanket.

Y/N gave him a small kiss on the forehead, smiling as his beady eyes shut. The kid was going to be out for a while, Y/N and Din having tired him out by playing various little games with him until his eyes started to droop.

Y/N saw a side to Din that was new to her as they played with the Child. She always knew he loved the green creature, despite how much he could get annoyed with him. There was never a time where Din wasn’t gentle with him, and, though he could have a temper, never ever raised his voice at him when the Child would mess with the switches or spill something on the ship or in a cantina. Din was patient with him, and during the games nothing by playful – it came out awkward at first, testing the waters – but eventually he couldn’t hide the small laughter that mixed with the Child’s own giggles. Y/N fell even more in love with him if that was possible.

But now, as Y/N sat on the edge of the bunk, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that washed over her. They had to get rid of the imp responsible for the bounty over the Child’s head. Otherwise, they would never stop coming for him. She knew that this was logical, but the eeriness of the situation was starting to plague her now more than ever. Tomorrow they would travel back to Sorgan in need of Cara Dune’s aid and Y/N was happy to be seeing Cara again. She just wished that she could shake this feeling off.

Unbeknownst to her, Din was feeling the same way. He knew how dangerous and risky this plan was, but it was for the Child, and possibly the only chance they’ll ever get at ending this whole thing. Whoever was after him was persistent, dangerous all on its own. Y/N was already stressed enough, so he didn’t tell her that he was completely unsure on if he was going to make it through this. Not to say he’s never felt this before; in almost every single job he took, he kept in the back of his head that this day could very well be his last. It didn’t bother him as much when he was alone. But now the thought of leaving Y/N and the Child stirred fear deep into his core. He was aware that Y/N could take care of herself and the baby without him, and that alone always made him feel better when there were blaster shots grazing him or knives being thrown at him. Because he wouldn’t be leaving them behind underprepared and no defenses.

And the dream? It certainly didn’t help the situation. Never once did he ever imagine himself as a father until then, until Y/N. Truth be told, Din liked the fights. Maybe it’s because he was raised into it, but he often found himself hesitating when it came to family. He chalked it up to fear, which wasn’t a lie on its own.

He didn’t remember finishing up the last of his still warm meal. Didn’t remember making his way to the bunk, mindlessly searching for his love.

“I’m sorry,” Din apologized, sitting down next to her, shoulders pressed tightly against each other. “For sleeping for so long.” He added at her frown. The moon was already almost up.

Y/N shook her head, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing to apologize for. You needed it.” She gave his knee a soft squeeze.

Din could only nod. She felt the way his muscles relaxed at her touch and the way his shoulders sagged. Times like these were where Y/N could really see just how exhausted and aged he was. When he didn’t have the strength to hold himself back, his true colors shown brightly; most times they were sad, lonely. Only the comfort of her warm hugs and melodic voice could soothe them away, make them disappear like the sun does with the clouds.

“You do too,” he finally whispered back.

Y/N gave him a stern glare. “You let me sleep all the time.”

The look in her eyes told him not to argue. He decided that it was best he didn’t. Their time seemed precious now, and he didn’t want to waste it with arguing. Instead he wanted it all. He wanted her to see him in the light, allowing her to feel him without the use of the dark, hands searching blindly. He wanted to spend what could be their last peace inside her, around her, just everything that you can do to be as humanly tied; tethered by a strong, unbreakable thread, two souls embracing with the stars above them. He could no longer deny her the sight of him.

But the Creed. It was a constant reminder of the oath he was sworn into, the people that took him in and raised him when they didn’t have to. He thought back to the dream, the clear, alluring atmosphere that surrounded them. Din wanted it more than anything in the world. It’s just the timing was all wrong. He needed it to be perfect, for when they were both ready to settle down and out of danger. He realized as this being slightly selfish, and that Y/N had just as much as a right as he did. But he owed the Mandalorians that much.

“I – I want to try something new.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. She saw that he was deep in thought and that something was bothering him, but she knew better than to push. He’d tell her when he was ready, always.

“Close your eyes.”

His voice was gruff, heavy even behind the decoder. Y/N didn’t hesitate to close them, breath even as she heard the shuffle of him getting up and closing the Child’s pod. She heard the hiss of the helmet being taken off, the rustle of his clothes being pulled off. Din couldn’t help but swoop in for a kiss, then a small peck before placing the helmet back on.

“Open them.”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she opened her eyes. Her lips parted at his body, shed of all clothing. She always felt the soft muscles on his arms and back, the soft fat of his stomach – still holding strength and just as beautiful to her – but to actually see him bare to her like this. It made her want to cry, because this was a big deal for the Mandalorian. Because he trusted her, loved her, wanted her.

He was nervous at first but seeing the way her eyes shined with awe and then lust, exploring every inch of him, not only relaxed him, but it made him incredibly hard. Y/N trailed down his stomach, soft patches of curls that lead down to his sprung dick, which she had to smirk at. She stood up, hands reaching up to lay on his shoulder and chest. She wanted to kiss him, but she knew the only way to do that was to either blindfold herself or complete darkness, and she was too intoxicated at seeing what she was only aloud to feel.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Y/N found herself whispering. Din sighed, outlining her lips with the tip of his finger. He really, really wanted to kiss her.

Y/N’s leg brushed up against him as she pulled her shirt over her head, making him let out a hiss through his teeth. She smiled in apology, wrapping her hand around his length and giving it a slow but firm pump.

“Lay down,” she whispered by his ear. It made him shiver, and he did as he was told. His hands laid on his sides, itching to touch himself.

Y/N was starting to breathe heavily as she shimmed her pants down her legs, kicking them off as if they were an insult. She was just as naked as he was when she crawled over him, straddling his right thigh. They both sighed as her wet pussy rubbed against the meat of his leg. Her hands trailed down his arms, down his chest. He tensed his thigh when her fingers brushed playfully against his nipples, grunting. The sound made her whine, hips rolling on their own accord. The hairs of his leg felt divine on her bundle of nerves, tickling her in a delicious way.

She smiled devilishly and ducked down. Her lips met his collarbone, biting down and sucking until there was a purple mark. Din moaned softly and rolled his leg up in time with her hips, making her nip at his chest, just above his left nipple. She kissed it before enveloping it in her mouth. He cursed and bucked his hips up against her stomach. She let go with a pop, trailing more kisses down his stomach until she settled herself between his legs. Y/N groaned at the loss of his leg under her, but she had to taste him.

Din looked down just in time to see her envelop his entire dick in the cave of her mouth, gagging as the tip of him hit the back of her throat. He moaned loudly, cursing and clutching a handful of her hair. His hips stuttered up, and she had to tap his hip to let him know to take it easy. Her hand gripped what her mouth couldn’t fit, sucking lightly at the head of his cock. His grip on her hair loosened only a little, the other holding the hand that was now on his thigh.

Y/N pulled up for air, a trail of saliva trailing from his dick and her mouth. She kissed up the length of his girth as she continued to pump him slowly. He almost came when she sucked lightly at the skin of his balls. He pulled her before she could continue, taking in her shiny lips and watery eyes. It was a sight he would fully commit to memory. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips moving against his in perfect symphony, needed to have her taste lingering in his mouth and –

“Ow!”

Din did not estimate just how close she was before going in for a Mandalorian’s kiss, banging his helmet against her forehead.

“Shit I’m so sorry!” Din fretted, petting her head back to check for any forming bumps or bruises.

Y/N laughed on top of him, shaking off his concern and going in slowly for what he failed to attempt. They both closed their eyes at the contact, though Din could not feel it. She stared into his eyes through the T of his helmet, kissing where his lips would be.

Din lightly trailed his nails down her spine, making her arch her back, her own hands caressing the skin of his stomach; they tickled down his sides, making him squirm.

They both took their times exploring each other. Y/N lost herself in the language of their caresses, untainted and honest. Din couldn’t get enough of it, the feeling of her against him, the way he felt the goosebumps rise on her arms. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get quite used to it.

He used the grip on her hips to line her dripping entrance over his dick, watching intently as she lined herself up and sunk down ever so slowly until his length until he was fully sheathed inside her. They moaned loudly at the feel of each other; the stretch of him left her pulsing around him, velvet slick walls begging to be used and filled up.

Y/N finally gave an experimental roll, moaning at the curls that scratched her pulsing clit. Din moved in sync with her, rolling his hips up as hers came down, hitting her as deep as possible; she wouldn’t be surprised if you could feel him in her stomach.

He was hitting the soft, spongey spot inside her repeatedly with every thrust, leaving her moaning and whining any chance she drew breath. Their pace was hard but slow, dragging out their pleasure. He clenched his teeth, wanting to go faster but needing to fuck her slowly.

“I want to kiss you,” you pleaded softly. “Please, Din, baby.”

Din moaned and eventually nodded, waiting for her to close her eyes tightly before he tugged the helmet off and yanked her down; their teeth clashed, and it did hurt but they didn’t pull away.

“Shit -.” He broke the kiss with a groan when she swiveled her hips. “F-fuck keep doing that, beautiful. Just like that.”

Y/N did, the friction against her folds a little painful and utterly amazing. Her teeth scraped against his neck, just under his jaw. He bared himself to her, inviting her.

She wondered how she survived the fire that burned in lower stomach, how she could ever live without the feel of Din’s cock hitting her g-spot to near perfection every time he was inside her. It was too much and not enough.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Din continued to moan. He palmed her breast, gripping it tightly. “These tits? They’re mine,” he snarled.

It was hard to keep her eyes shut at the dirty talk. It was making her wetter, and Din already almost slipped out of her pulsing cunt once from the sheer slickness of it.

He abruptly flipped her onto her back, covering her eyes quickly with his hand before she accidentally opened them in surprise. His thrusts remained slow and powerful, propping one leg around his waist and the other on his shoulder.

“This pussy? This beautiful, dripping cunt is mine,” he growled.

Y/N cried out – almost pornographically – and gave a weeping cry when he pulled out of her.

His hand was still over her eyes, and she could hear him breathing heavily; his hand gripped her thigh painfully hard, but she said nothing.

“I -.” He gulped, running a hand over his face. “I wanted to take this slow. But - ”

“Fuck me,” Y/N interrupted. “Please daddy, fuck me.”

His eyes widened, and hers would’ve as well. This was a kink never discovered or discussed until now, and she held her breath as she waited for his reaction. Without so much as a warning he plunged deep into her, making her body shift upwards and her mouth open in a silent cry. His pace was hard and unforgiving, her tits bouncing furiously and hands gripping onto his biceps; her nails dug in sharply enough to draw blood, but he didn’t mind. The pain only increased the pleasure, both going hand in hand with the drag of his rigid cock across her sensitive walls.

He thought back to the dream. The thought of her belly round with their growing children was enough to make his hips stutter, for some primal urge to overtake him. With her hips in his grip again, he bounced her on his cock, grunting at the nonsense babble that was dribbling out of her mouth.

Din started to mumble what she could only describe as praises above her in Mando’a. He had started to teach her the language of his people only recently, so she was still fairly new to the language. She would have to ask him what he said later.

“Gods Din,” she moaned wantonly. “I’m gonna –‘

He jackhammered his hips into hers, and Y/N was sure that this was it, this was going to fucking destroy her and she’d let him over and over and over again. Her mind was a fog as the pool in her stomach started to coil, walls clenching furiously around him.

“Your pleasure is mine,” Din grunted. “Maker, you can feel it too, can’t you?”

Y/N could. She knew just how much Din loved her and the Child. Knew how much he hated the thought of them in any type of danger. And the longing. Yes she felt that as well, for a life akin to peace and normality. It was new for Din, awkward even, as it was for Y/N. It was a tread they would have to cross carefully.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh yes Din! F-fuck I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

His mind zapped to when she got shot, how scared – no petrified – no. There is no word to properly describe how he was feeling that night. He could’ve lost her if the shot was just a few inches to the right, and he wanted to say everything his heart wouldn’t let him spill, and it fucking hurt him.

“I love you too!” Din gasped. He tasted salt on his lips; he didn’t even notice he was crying. “Damn it, how could I not?”

Y/N dug her nails into his skin as her orgasm was fast approaching, his admission only making her wail. They were music to her ears, and she was so fucking happy she heard them before blood started rushing into her ears.

“Shit princess I feel you,” he growled. “I’m gonna cum in that t-tight little pussy. Fill you up so good that you’ll feel me for days.”

The thumb on her clit triggered her release. Y/N croaked out a mix of a moan and a scream, her pussy tight and throbbing around his dick, still thrusting. He fucked her through her orgasm, and when he felt the familiar pool he kissed her sloppily, tongue twirling with hers in an erotic dance.

“I’m fucking cumming,” he growled.

Y/N fisted his hair, licking around his earlobe before biting down on it.

Din let out a deep, loud grunt mixed with a snarl that was downright sin and gave one hard final thrust before she felt the warmth of his cum deep into her cervix. He was right, she would feel him for days, seeping out of her.

He gently placed her leg down and propped himself up on top of her, careful not to crush her. Their hairs were a fucking mess, tangled and mused. He found it to be gorgeous on her.

“Is it… is it okay if I stay? I just… I just want to feel you.”

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, and kissed his head sweetly, eyes still closed. Din kissed her once, twice, then three before burying his head in her chest, arms wrapped under her.

He said it he said it he fucking said it.

She didn’t question the taste of salt on her lips from when he kissed her, or the way his cheek was cracked and dry from the tears. She knew him well enough to know the meaning behind them.

“I think you should call me daddy every day,” Din mumbled into her skin, pushing her away from her thoughts.

Y/N laughed and could feel the grumble of his. “Okay, daddy,” she teased with a sultry voice.

Din groaned and lightly slapped the side of her ass. “Damn fucking right.”

She hummed and scratched his scalp, relishing in the afterglow. After a few moments Din shifted, causing them both to squirm from the short burst of pleasure. She was still very sensitive, and when he pulled out of her slowly she couldn’t help but hiss and whine at the loss.

He started to pepper kisses down the slope of her stomach, nipping at her hip bone before kneeling down at the edge of the cot. His hot breath hovered over her quaking pussy, her juices and his cum leaking out of her.

“Oh Din, I don’t – fuck!”

Din licked a broad stripe up her cunt, moaning at the combined taste of their cum. Y/N’s thighs immediately started to shake and quiver around his head, whining and moaning pathetically. She thrashed when he attached his lips to her clit, giving it a powerful suck.

“Fuck Din I’m – I’m gonna cum again!” It was breathless, high pitched, and fucking music to his ears.

He groaned into her, lapping up every ounce of her release before crawling back up to catch her lips with his. He tasted sweet, tangy and salty.

“You have one more in you, princess?” He whispered hoarsely into her open mouth.

Y/N nodded desperately. She could see white flashes behind her eyelids, dancing through the pleasure.

She felt him line himself up at her now definitely swollen lips, only letting the tip of his cock into her, teasing her.

She gave him the best glare she could give considering her state, which made Din chuckle darkly.

“What is it sweetness?”

That motherfucker. She tried rolling her hips, but he held down with a firm palm on her belly. Y/N huffed.

“Please daddy, please fuck me. I want your big dick inside me, daddy. Please,” she begged.

She was awarded with a slow thrust into her gaping heat. All the air seemed to leave her body, chocking on what little of it she had left before he pulled all the way out to the tip before thrusting back in. She felt the cot dip as he covered her body with his, grinding into her.

This was soft, slower than what had just taken place before. He caressed her eyebrows, cheeks, lips as his own lips sucked a mark onto her pulse point. Each shift of his hips brought a new sense of euphoria to the both of them, the chorus of soft moans filling the air.

“I really do love you,” he whispered, forehead resting against hers. “More than life itself. And I’m so fucking sorry that I don’t tell you enough, th –.“ He paused when she clenched around him, cursing under his breath as his hips sped up. “That I’m holding you back. Nothing could ever compare to your love, my sweet, sweet Y/N.”

Y/N hated it, but she started to cry. “You’re not holding me back,” she whimpered. She tugged his hair back to give him a sloppy kiss, their orgasm’s near.

“You could never do that to me, Din. And you don’t have to tell me with words. Fuck you s-show me every day. When you let me sleep in, listen to my stupid stories, the way you pay attention to me. You fucking bought me that pin at that stupid market we stopped at twice because you remembered that it reminded me of my mother.”

They both let out small chuckles at that, breathless and so so close. His pubic bone was shifting just right against her clit. Din’s hands slivered over the sides of her breasts, palming her ass and lifting her up to meet his thrusts.

“Gods daddy, make me cum,” Y/N cried.

“Daddy is gonna take care of you,” Din promised. “Always gonna.”

It was amazing, the whiplash between something so honest and heartfelt to something so fucking filthy. But hey, it worked for them.

“Ca - can I cum on your tits?” Din suddenly asked. It came out nervously, slow. She’d let him do anything to her and thank him afterwards.

“Of course, daddy,” she purred.

“Then play with your pretty pussy.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice. She reached down between them and with a few flicks of her finger she came hard around him. He pulled out with a growl, pumping himself vigorously before grunting loudly, thick ropes of cum spraying across her chest.

“Shit you - .”

They both giggled. Y/N gathered up some of the cum onto her finger and hummed at the taste of him. If only she could see the way his dark eyes lit up.

He reached around, grabbing an old used cloth to clean her chest before collapsing next to her.

“Just give me a minute,” he grunted before she could open her mouth to speak.

Y/N could only nod, her throat becoming sore from the screams. She felt satisfied, her body spent. Din eventually got to his feet, dressing himself slowly as he helped Y/N do the same, giving her a kiss before placing the helmet over his head. It felt heavier now. She checked on the Child as he climbed up the ladder to the cockpit. Bringing the sleeping child up with her, she laid him down in his makeshift seat as Din started the ship.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders, now covered in beskar. “We’ll be okay.”

He remembered he said the same thing to her before she got shot. But this time, this time he believed it, because she did. Because he had to, for all of their sakes.

“I know.”

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @outlawers, @hejahockey, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @angel-hunter-winchester, @tedpicklez, @momc95, @sailorflowermoon, @creatingjana, @stories0fhope, @pascalisthepunkest, @coffeeandtodd

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian smut #star wars #the mandalorian's love series #the child

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monster-creator-12 · 4 years ago

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Grabora

Nomenclature

Title: The Precambrian Life Form

Nicknames: Gurabora, The Big Worm, Burt’s Worst Nightmare, The Super Graboid

Biological Information

Species: Graboid

Height: 60 meters

Length: 100 meters

Weight: 36,000 tons avg ( slightly varies by forms)

Affiliation Information

Relatives: American Graboid, African Graboid, Arctic Graboid, Pacific Graboid

Allies: El Blanco, Messerschmitt

Enemies: El Gusano Gigante, Amerigon, Jigora

Bio

Grabora is the peak of Graboid evolution, a titanic subterranean predator that far dwarfs its small relatives. This adaptable kaiju can be found world wide, but it prefers to stick to the American Southwest and Midwest, where the lack of numerous mountains and the abundance of flat open space works best to its advantage. It similarly enjoys the deserts of Africa, Australia, and Asia for this reason. It also prefers to stick to North and Central America due to the smaller amount of other burrowing kaiju found there as opposed to other continents. With very little competition in North America, it is able to carve out a substantially larger territory than it would be able to in other regions.

Physically Grabora resembles the typical American Graboid with some notable exceptions. Its body shape is more similar to that of Baragon, with a short, rounded torso, and a short tail coming off the end. Grabora also has two sets of clawed limbs, each limb ending in a large spade like claw. The back claws are larger and wider while the front claws are shorter but sharper. Grabora’s whole body is covered in overlapping plated scales, acting like chainmail for the kaiju. These scales lie flat against the body but are raised and pointing on its tail. On the subject of its tail, Grabora’s tail is very similar in function to an Ass Blaster tail. With a shake of its tail it mixes a cocktail of explosive chemicals which are released in a concentrated explosion from a hole at the tip. This shaking makes a rattling noise caused by the looser raised scales, which also acts as a warning to any attacking kaiju. Finally, its head is nearly identical to that of an American Graboid, but with thicker, more robust mandibles. The upper beak has two rows of serrated growths on the roof of the beak, acting like teeth. In its mouth are three tentacles, each capable of stretching 20 meters, and each tentacle comes equipped with two pairs of sensory horns, capable of sensing body heat, and a set of jaws, lined with rows of jagged teeth.

Grabora may be impressive compared to other Graboids, but is a lower tier kaiju when compared to similar burrowing beasts from around the world. It has an especially fierce rivalry with the other large burrowing kaiju found in the America’s, Amerigon and El Gusano Gigante. It is because of El Gusano in particular that Grabora doesn’t go further south than Mexico since the larger kaiju has attempted to Grabora on several occasions, leading to drawn out dangerous battles. Amerigon typically tries to avoid Grabora since Grabora consistently wins their own battles, but Amerigon’s presence has still kept Grabora away from the eastern United States despite Grabora’s high win rate. Still, Grabora will enter the Gulf of Mexico freely, which does place it at risk of earning Amerigon’s ire.

Abilities wise Grabora is a rather unique kaiju. As previously mentioned it is capable of blasting fire from its tail, and it can use its beak and claws to tear apart any enemies of prey. Its tentacles can also be used to restraining larger foes and snag smaller prey. It can of course burrow, and is one of the fastest burrowing kaiju on the planet, which is useful for both chasing down food and running away from greater threats. It is even capable of leaping into the air from below the ground, not dissimilar to a shark leaping from the ocean to grab a meal. To enhance its jumps it can use its tail blasts to further propel itself upwards, greatly increasing its jumping height. Like the Pacific Shrieker, Grabora possesses a sonic shriek which can be used to incapacitate other kaiju. It is thought that the reason Amerigon’s have much smaller ears than their Eurasian counterparts is due to evolving alongside Grabora’s kind, since smaller ears and less sensitive hearing makes them better suited to fighting off Grabora attacks. Grabora’s most fascinating ability however, is its numerous forms it takes depending on what environment it spends time in. It is unknown what causes it to be able to change into these different forms, and how it is able to do so in such a timely manner since Grabora only needs a few days to change its form to suit its environment. Below is a list of all of Grabora’s current known forms.

Base It's typically coloration and the form most commonly associated with Grabora. Has a very similar coloration to the American Graboid, with a grey head and a greyish brown body. It does however have a metallic sheen across its body due to the metals incorporated into its scales while digging. Its abilities such as its speed, beak hardness, scale hardness, and blasting power are predictably average which is understandable given this is its base form.

Desert Grabora’s second most common form. Colorization wise it is lighter than its base form but otherwise has no other noticeable differences. It is the fastest form however, and is also the lightest. Its scales are smoother as well which helps increase its speed. Its claws are however softer than normal as well as its scales. Its blasting power is slightly weaker than its base form but does come out faster. This form is closest to its base form.

Mountain A rarer form spotted around the mountains of Arizona, hence the name. The mountain morph is a bright red in color, with darker red splotches found on its back, head, and tail. This form has the second strongest set of jaws and claws, which are necessary in order for it to dig through the rock of the mountains. Its blasting power is more explosive than normal, perfect for blasting away both enemies and mountainous rock. It is also nicknamed the landslide form.

Swamp At first mistaken for as a brand new kaiju, the swamp form is possibly the most different form taken by Grabora. Grabora turns a dark green, with its head turning a lighter green and both the tip of the tail and the lower mandibles turning a light yellow. Grabora’s underside takes on a bright red coloration with black markings throughout, resembling a fire belly newt. This form has the softest scales, and its scales are especially soft on its belly. To compensate, this form is capable of secreting a thick mucus, which gums up any attacker's jaws. This forms blast is also highly aberrant, instead of coming out as an explosion, it instead produces a thick cloud of gas that it then ignites with a snap of its beak. The explosions produced aren’t the strongest, but do cover a very wide range. It also seems that Grabora becomes more unappetizing in this form since Amerigon reeled back in disgust when biting some of Grabora’s exposed flesh while he was in this form.

Tropical This form is taken when Grabora decides to travel aquatically. With a gold head and back, as well as metallic aquamarine scales and ruby red claws, this form is considered by many to be its most eye-catching. Its blasts last longest of any form and is its primary method of swimming, alongside the occasional paddled from its claws. Its claws are the weakest out of any form since it hardly uses them while swimming. It takes this form on during the fall, feasting on the plentiful amount of sea life that congregates there during that time of the year.

Oil Field This form is thought to be a mutation of it’s artic form, brought about by extensive time spent in an oil field in Alaska, attracted to the field due to the vibrations caused by the mining for oil. It has a jet black head, and a rainbow colored shining body, like an oil slick. It has the greatest blast range of any form, with the fluids produced coming out less like an explosion and more like a flamethrower. It is also capable of setting itself ablaze, burning down everything around it.

Sulfuric Hot Spring This form comes about from when Grabora extensively fought Jigora in Yellowstone National Park. The constant exposure to the corrosive springs bleached Grabora’s shell a neon green and turned his beak a neon yellow. This constant acidic exposure has also resulted in this form having the softest beak, but it compensates for this by now possessing acidic saliva. Its tail blasts are also different, the new chemicals in the tail no longer result in an explosive blast, but a superheating spray of corrosive fluid that both scalds and dissolves opponents in equal measure.

Hollow Earth The strongest form Grabora takes on. Grabora undergoes metamorphosis into this form when he decides he needs to traverse the Hollow Earth. This form is a dark metallic red with hints of gold and bronze in its scales. This form has the strongest scales, claws, and beak but is also conversely the slowest form due to being weighed down by its new metallic armor. This form also has the hottest blast, capable of melting through solid bedrock in seconds. Grabora rarely takes on this form, and only does so when he needs to travel to other continents. This form also takes the longest to shift into, since it requires the consumption of a large amount of heavier metals to make its new armor.

This is what happens when I find a new creature to obsess over and need a distraction from my day to day life! Expect more Devil’s From Below soon, for now I’m gonna finish some sketches and enjoy a soda.

#Grabora #graboids #Gurabora #kaiju #Godzilla #King Kong #my writing #my creatures #vinyl figure #sofubi #fan art

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jungkookiebus · 5 years ago

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Komorebi | kth

Genre: fluffy fluff, sensory drabble Pairing: lowkey strawberryfarmer!Tae x reader Word Count: 1.1k+ Summary: This is another sensory fic, so it’s more immersive that it is plot and dialogue. It’s much like my Jungkook drabble that helped with anxiety. This one is meant to bring peace to anyone who reads it.

The warm spring breeze blew through the trees; the smell of honeysuckle wafted into your nose and a thrush sang somewhere above you. Your body felt weightless, having fully relaxed in the hammock you had been in for the better part of an hour. But that wasn’t the only reason you were totally relaxed; your head rested on the chest of Taehyung. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear and you sighed deeply as you melted into him even more. One of your legs was slung over his, arm around his waist, as his wrapped around your back, allowing him full access to rub his hand over your scalp and through your hair. The breeze picked up and the rush of leaves blowing against one another sounded like waves crashing on the shore. You brought your knee upwards while squeezing him tighter in a sudden urge to just swallow him whole with your body; you hadn’t felt so relaxed in a while. The hammock swayed lazily as the late afternoon wind picked up. Around you, dandelion seeds blew on the current of the breeze, a few catching in your hair and on your face. Jutting out your bottom lip, you blew upwards to send a wayward one on its way back to repopulating the floral community. Tae’s fingers periodically massaged the crown of your head, spreading his fingers outward, pressing firmly, and drawing them back in before starting over again. Occasionally, he’d move his hand as much as his wrist would allow to massage the base of your neck sending goosebumps washing over your skin. His other hand occupied itself with the one slung over his waist, intertwining his long fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

The sun was warm, rippling across your skin as the trees moved. In the distance, you did hear the waves crashing on the shore, as your home was close to the coast. Beneath you, Tae took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, your view changing slightly as your head traveled upwards and back down to its original position, peering out over the open field that lay beyond your little retreat.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mhmmm.” His was voice deep, almost in a trance-like state and you could tell without looking at him that his eyes were probably closed; a look of serene complacency cast across his face.

Cicadas started to sing around you as the wind began to die down a little. The sun set under the horizon, casting the world in a purple, gold, and orange glow. The smell of a distant thunderstorm filled the air and the pressure seemed to build gradually. Birds began to quiet for the evening and when you opened your eyes you saw the tiny lights of fireflies dancing among the buttercups that bloomed in the field. Tae had fallen asleep some time ago, breathing steady, firmly, always a constant in your life that you could depend on. His heart slowed to a steady rhythm, one that you could identify out of hundreds if you had to. His hand came to rest on your neck, fingers softly spread from your jaw to the base where his pinky barely touched your skin. You shifted slightly to look at him and saw that his mouth had opened a little, soft snores escaping as you watched his eyes move back and forth as he dreamed. The smell of rain got stronger and you looked beyond the trees to see dark rain clouds approaching. The last golden rays of sunlight started to give way to the clear, starlit sky in the distant, opposite direction of the rain clouds. Orion could be seen twinkling over the dark hills that blocked your view of the shore.

“Tae,” you whispered. You dug your fingers lightly into his side and shook him.

His hand on your neck tightened momentarily before relaxing once more and a small sigh escaped his lips, but he didn’t stir.

You tried again. This time you heard him swallow as he re-wet his dry mouth, pulling his hand from yours to wrap his arm around you and hug tightly. He groaned as he buried his face into your hair.

“It’s getting dark and it’s going to rain soon,” you murmured against him.

“Is that so?” His voice was deeper than before, thick with sleep.

Crickets chirped around you, a nightingale took the place of the thrushes, and the space around you seemed to swirl with an otherworldly feeling; you felt caught between reality and a realm just beyond your reach. Thunder rolled through the sky, deep, like rocks in a landslide. The wind picked up in the trees and a shiver ran through you since the warmth of the sun was no longer kissing at your skin. Tae’s lips came to rest on your forehead, breath fanning against your skin. Heat lightening lit up the sky momentarily before shrouding you both in darkness once more.

“It’s beautiful this time of year,” he stated.

“Like you.”

“Saying I’m not beautiful every other time of the year?”

You giggled knowing full well you didn’t need to defend yourself. Thunder seemed like a drumbeat, delved deep from the earth, as it rumbled overhead. A stray drop of rain landed on your cheek as the clouds came closer.

“I’m in the mood for strawberries and cream anyway,” he said rolling to the side to exit the hammock, making sure to keep a hand on you to avoid you from coming with him. Once he was upright, he held his hand out to yours as you swung your legs around. He held you close around your waist as you both walked back to the house. The sky lit up in rapid succession as if nature were holding its own celebration. Thunder cracked closer and more powerful than before. The small fireflies still danced in and out of the tall grass and flowers, trees swayed wickedly in the wind, and the drops fell a little faster. Before you were able to reach home, the sky opened upon you. You both tumbled, laughing, into the back door of your warm home, hair dripping with water, and clothes clinging to your bodies. Tae’s face was bright, and warmth spread through your veins at the sight of him. He cupped your jaw, kissing you lightly, small laughs leaving his lips as his hair tickled you, causing you to scrunch your nose. He sighed contentedly as he gazed as you, your hands tight on his wrists as you both stood in the hallway. Your shoes squeaked on the floor as you shifted your weight to the other foot.

“Let’s get dry and then we’ll have those strawberries I picked today.”

And with that, Tae led you down the hallway, taking you further into the depths of your warm home, into that familiar feeling, letting it settle deep into your bones, committing it to memory, and storing it away.

Drabble Masterlist

#bangtanarmynet #taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #strawberryfarmer!tae #taehyung x reader #reader insert #bts au #bts imagines #bts scenarios #fluff #nonidol!taehyung

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levirens · 5 years ago

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[fanfic] of flavoured names and coloured sounds (chapter 1 of 2)

Summary: "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."

In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name.

LINKS

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567740/chapters/56541799 FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13547597/1/of-flavoured-names-and-coloured-sounds

CHAPTER 1

synaesthesia: a condition in which two or more of the five senses that most people experience separately are mixed so that, for example, a person may see colour when they hear a particular sound or read a particular word

He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. They create a firework display in front of him whenever they talk, varying in intensity depending on the nature of their conversation. He falls asleep to soft shades of blue and wakes up to freckles of purple.

(The albino peacocks produce varying shades of reds and violets, the house-elves create splashy tones that have the tendency to give him a headache when subjected to prolonged exposure.)

It’s only later, when he grows up, that he starts to discover the names of these colours, stops referring to them as various shades of the same six hues he knows and combinations of them. He comes to learn that his mother’s voice is composed of aquamarine notes, interspersed with azure, Maya blue, Bleu de France, teal, and harbour grey. When he tells her this, she gives him a curious look and makes him promise he would never tell anyone about these sensory experiences of his.

Tasting words and names is an experience that is more peculiar and, sometimes, less pleasant. As a child, the flavours are fairly simple: words like absinthe, python, moth, and thunder taste bitter, while words like cheery, rye, and cutlery taste sweet. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him. When he hears the word Dementor, he develops a sudden overwhelming urge to vomit as the word tastes like rotten meat and mouldy bread. The meaning of the word sends a chill down his spine and he thinks his taste buds hit the mark with that one.

(Pansy, his childhood friend, has a name that tastes like steamed broccoli, and the taste is so odd that he never says her name when he fucks her, much to the witch’s disdain. It doesn’t help that her moans are coloured like coal.)

Harry Potter’s name is a mixture of sweet and smoky. The name Harry is sweet, much like cheery and rye, but he finds the sweetness nauseating. Potter, on the other hand, is smoky, so he settles with that and decides to call the boy the smoky name. The name Ron tastes like milk that’s been left out for hours, better poured down the drain than allowed to linger on the tongue. The surname isn’t much better, reminding him of the time his father had made him eat some blue cheese and he gagged it all out, leaving his tongue and throat burning with stomach acid. Every time he says the ginger’s name, his face automatically pulls into a sneer of disgust, his taste buds protesting the abuse.

During their first year, most everyone’s voices make him see light colours, but as they grow older the male voices turn darker shades and the females’ a softer hue. Some voices grate on his nerves, the explosion of colours too vivid, with no sense of harmony, and he often finds himself snapping at these people to shut up.

That’s when he becomes certain that this condition is unique to him. If they could see the colours he sees and if they could taste the flavours he tastes, they would all be snappish too.

Then there’s Hermione Granger.

Hermione reminds him of a summer trip his family had taken to France before his first year at Hogwarts. His father, ever the champion of luxurious delicacies and drinks, always insisting that he must develop a taste for the finer things, had insisted that his mother let him sample a glass of white wine.

His eleven-year-old tongue quickly detected hints of white peach, dill, and coconut, but they were overwhelmed by the bitterness of the alcohol. He had not appreciated the taste then, not even trying to hide his grimace to the amusement of his parents.

“When you’re older, you’ll learn to value the flavour of an excellent Sauvignon Blanc,” his father had reassured him.

Now the intoxicating flavour is back, every time he hears Potter call her name and every time it flashes through his mind. The taste of it never changes throughout the years, but his reaction to it does. Understandably, his younger self only felt disgust, but the older he got the more willing he became to accept that his father had been right all along—he’s learned to value the taste of Hermione’s name, learned to savour the white peach along with the dryness unique to the drink.

Sometimes, he could convince himself that he could get drunk just from her name.

Granger was safer, and even in his younger years he had enjoyed the taste of the surname on his tongue. Granger tastes like green apples. It’s the first thing he grabs at the dining table every morning for breakfast, and it’s a flavour that he chases after constantly. His immature self had found a way to say it every chance he could get, enjoying the sudden burst of citrus inside his mouth with every call of her name. He would resort to taunting, teasing her about being a swot, insulting her and making sure to use her last name by the end of every sentence.

He had been foolish, he soon realises, and so he stops saying her name to her face all the time lest people notice that he has developed an unhealthy habit out of it. He says it in private now, in the confines of the baths and in the privacy of his bedroom. At first it had only been so he could taste the green apples, so he could relive over and over again the tangy sweetness of her name, but later on it became less innocent.

(Later on, he started to favour the alcohol of her given name over the fruit of her surname whenever he would stroke his cock through his sleeping trousers.)

Unsurprisingly, the word Mudblood tastes like dirt in his mouth. When he first hurls it at her, the sensation is so intense that he almost gags before the weasel can even attempt his slug-eating spell at him. It repulses him, but she had insulted him and annoyed him to no end, and not even the sweetness of her name could soothe the headache he got from the bursts of vibrant colours her voice made him see whenever she opened her filthy mouth. Potions quickly became his favourite subject, not only because his Godfather favoured him, but because he almost never allows Granger to recite in class.

He finds that his annoyance slowly dissipates over the years as her voice goes from irritating and migraine-inducing to almost melodic and soothing. The colours stop being so harsh, become muted shades or pastel versions of themselves. He finds that in the splashes of colour he sees every minute of his waking hours, he looks forward to seeing hers.

The first time he realises her voice has ceased to be a source of annoyance for him is during their third year. It’s an odd thing to feel, to suddenly yearn to hear the colours of her voice, when two years ago he had wanted to bolt from every room she was occupying. That annoys him, too, because all his life he’s been told that his kind should rule the wizarding world and her kind should not even be welcomed, so who is she to drive him out of a room? Throughout their first and second year in Hogwarts, he would stay, not only because he had no choice but to stay in classes he shared with her, but because he’s a pureblood and she’s nothing but that dirty word that makes him gag.

The sound of her palm connecting with his face is the colour of autumn leaves, a bright orange thunder-like streak that flashes behind his closed eyes. Everything is a sensory blur, and he finds himself running away from her, from them, feeling the shame welling in his chest and the taste of her given name still heavy on his tongue.

The word foul tastes like oatmeal and the word evil tastes like cold chicken soup.

The yule ball is a ticket to a night of sensory overload. The music they dance to causes him to nearly go into a catatonic state, his head thrown back and his eyes following the lights bursting in and out with every note and every chord. Pansy has been clinging to him ever since he had first fucked her three weeks ago, and now he knows what a colossal mistake it had been to ask her to be his date to this ball. She has somehow convinced herself that they’re exclusively seeing each other, much to his disappointment, so he’s been planning to “break up” with her despite his father’s approval of their supposed relationship.

He’s thinking of a way to tell her the sex is good (not good enough really, considering the taste of her name and the colours of her voice) but he’s simply not looking for a relationship when he catches sight of her again. Immediately the spiked punch is replaced by Sauvignon Blanc and green apples at the thought of her name. She’s a periwinkle blue blur from his vantage point, but from what he had seen approximately an hour ago, she’s an absolute stunner tonight.

He turns his head so he can fully watch her, difficult as it may be with the pulsing colours interrupting his vision, and all but forgets the witch hanging on to his arm. He watches her dance with Krum, ignores Pansy’s demands for him to take her to the dancefloor, and then barely notices when his date finally lets go of his arms and stomps away from him. He watches Granger skip over to her friends, then he watches her get into a row with the weasel before promptly walking out of the ballroom.

None of her friends move to follow her, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to do it but he’s rising to his feet and moving towards the direction she had gone to. He keeps walking down the hallway until he spots her, snivelling in an alcove and using her hands to wipe at her face. When he gets close enough, he sees that her makeup is ruined, but it’s the fact that he doesn’t seem to mind that gives him pause.

“If you’re pining after the weasel, don’t you think you should have gone with him as your date?” he asks, startling her.

She jumps up and whips around to face him, wand already tightly held in one of her hands, tear tracks still marring her face. “Malfoy? Did you… did you follow me out here?”

He shrugs, moving to plop himself down to take her abandoned seat on the alcove. “I think I may be drunk,” he admits, the colours still blurring his vision and the word alcove tastes like garlic in his mouth.

She eyes him, her gaze darting back and forth between him and the empty hallway. He can practically hear her calculating her next steps, can hear the cogs in her brain working double time to assess the conundrum in front of her.

He cringes, the taste of residual beeswax coating his tongue at the thought of the word conundrum.

“How can you be drunk? Alcohol’s not allowed—”

“We spiked the punch,” he cuts her off, reaching for the flask hidden in the inner pockets of his robes. She stiffens, her wand raising ever so slightly to point at him, but he just retrieves the flask and waves it at her. “Paranoid.”

Granger watches him return the flask and fold his wandless hands on his lap where she can see them. “Well, it was very bizarre chatting with you, Malfoy.” With that, she turns to walk away, the floaty periwinkle blue robes moving with the sway of her hips.

When he returns to his dorm room, he places about half a dozen silencing charms on his bed, draws the curtains closed, and for the very first time, wanks himself off to images of Hermione Granger.

They’re prefects, and he should have expected this to happen. Sooner or later they would get paired to do patrols together, he had known this, but he had been foolish enough to neglect to prepare for it. He knows that her voice will no longer make his head throb, has been familiar with the shades of her still-swotty voice for more than two years now.

The castle is quiet, and his eyes are blessedly free of colours bursting around his vision as he and Granger walk the castle grounds side by side. Neither of them speaks, but the silence isn’t antagonistic. Last month, they had been paired up for an Astronomy assignment, and although everyone in the bloody castle had been surprised by the pairing and had expected things to blow up, they miraculously did not.

Granger may be an insufferable know-it-all as his Godfather had put it, but her diligence, as he’s come to learn, perfectly complements his occasional bouts of perfectionism. He had fully expected them to buttheads, get into rows as bad as the one that had landed him that nasty slap back in third year, but they had ended up working quite well with each other. By the end of the two week-long assignment, he had to begrudgingly admit to himself that his father had been wrong to accuse her of cheating to get good grades.

It had hurt his pride and he had ignored her completely after that. He only resumed “talking” to her last week, when she had come up to him to ask if he was finished with the DADA book lying on his table in the library. He had wanted to say no, tell her to bugger off and find her own copy, but had found himself gesturing for her to take it.

The witch had instead taken the seat in front of him and began working on her own essay right there, in his space. He had floundered for a good minute or two, just staring at her furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment, getting ink everywhere. Nobody would have seen her sitting there with him, his little corner hidden from the heavy traffic of the library. After a while he had given up trying to understand what the swot was hoping to achieve by infringing upon his peace so he had resolutely returned to working on his Transfiguration homework.

When she had finally gotten up to leave, he noted that it was just a little over ten minutes before dinner time. “Thanks for letting me use the book, Malfoy.”

From what he can tell, the school isn’t abuzz with gossip surrounding the two of them so he can only assume that she had told no one of their little study session, nor the two that had followed the first. He doesn’t know what they’re doing but he knows that he doesn’t mind it as much as he’d like to fool himself into thinking.

“Draco.”

He knows the taste of his name, of course. Draco tastes like an expensive brand of chocolate that his mother had indulged him with when he was a kid, and Malfoy tastes like leather. The fact that his name tastes like chocolate had been the only redeeming quality he found out of having sex with Pansy. Every time she moaned his name, the taste of chocolate would make the flashes of coal slightly worth the trouble.

Hermione’s voice doesn’t bother him anymore. What does bother him is the fact that he has spent months imagining what colour her moans would be and what colour his name would take when it leaves her lips.

Now he knows the answer to one of those things. It’s salmon pink, much like what her other notes sound like, the ones she would produce when talking about a subject only she knows about in class and the ones that would leave her lips when something particularly good happens to her.

He can’t imagine a reason why she’s speaking his name like that, but he turns his eyes to her and gestures for her to keep speaking. He can only hope that she doesn’t notice the blood rushing to fill his cheeks in the darkness.

“Why did you save me last year?”

The question catches him by surprise, so much so that he stops walking and only stares at her for a long moment. He instantly knows that she’s talking about the world cup, about the warning he had given the trio. Slowly, his features harden, and he feels a scowl replacing his baffled expression. “Is that why you’ve been hanging around me? You think we can become what, friends, because you assumed that I had saved you that night?”

She doesn’t immediately respond, instead taking a step closer to him. He feels his chest tighten at the proximity, every word out of his father’s mouth about pureblood superiority suddenly swimming through his head and causing an explosion of varied flavours to occur on his tongue. She’s so close, close enough that he can see the freckles dotting her nose, close enough that he can detect the scent of coconuts from her hair.

“I didn’t assume anything, Malfoy. You saved me that night.”

Aunt Bellatrix trains him, and she becomes fascinated with his condition when she learns about it from his mind. It occupies her interests enough that she doesn’t stumble upon the thoughts of her, and he’s so frightened by the possibility of her finding out that he’s been lusting over a muggle-born that it speeds up the process.

He’s always been a quick study, but there’s nothing like the fear of your infatuation being exposed to your deranged aunt to really get someone to master a spell.

He had expected that the dark mark would affect his condition, make the colours duller and the flavours blander. He’s right—once the ugly black thing gets branded on his skin, he can instantly tell that the colours will be nearly transparent now, the various hues no longer as defined as before and no longer obstructing his vision. His aunt tells him it’s a good thing, as he wouldn’t want those silly hallucinations coming in the way of a successful Avada or Crucio. The thought of the Dark Lord’s name no longer brings up an overpowering seaweed flavour, the taste subdued now.

When his mother plays the piano for him, the colours are still brighter and more pronounced than when people speak, but it’s no longer a fireworks display. She looks at him with a forlorn expression, one that he hadn’t expected but can understand because, as much as hated the migraines he got from those colours, they had been his. They had been bright, sometimes blinding, sometimes erratic enough that he feared he would go into a seizure, sometimes causing him to miss the target of a hex, but they had been his.

With his Occlumency walls safely in place, he allows himself to think of her name. The Sauvignon Blanc isn’t nearly as potent as before, the flavour of the green apples no longer as crisp, but he tells himself he can only be thankful that it’s still there.

#dramione #harry potter #hp #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fic #dramione fanfic #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #order member draco malfoy #spy draco malfoy #smut #light angst #romance #eventual romance #my writing #my fanfic

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adventuresloane · 5 years ago

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Original ask: "Can you do Lup for the soft meme? No one lets her be soft and she is SO SOFT"

Lup! Is! Soft! Girl!

-what they smell like: I love the idea that, as a lich, she always smells like something burning, but the specific scent changes depending on her mood. She smells like a big bonfire when she's happy and with her family, like sulphur or burning hair when she's angry, like a campfire with roasting marshmallows when she's feeling playful, like the sweetness of smoking pinecones when she's with Barry.

-what their favorite smells in the world are: Warming spices. She's got a particular fondness for the smell of cloves, but she loves anything you'd want to put in a hot cider, cinnamon and allspice and ginger and more, in endless combinations. (Also Barry's morning breath. Yes, even though it objectively smells kind of bad. She loves anything that reminds her he's near.)

-what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: She and Taako are both fussy about their sleeping situations, given that they're not that used to sleeping anyway and can often only do it when they're super comfortable. She's got sets of silky pajamas and nightgowns, many of which Barry and/or Taako bought for her.

-my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute headcanon about them: If it wasn't obvious enough from the previous answers, Blupjeans! I really enjoy the headcanon that Lup, confident as she is most of the time, was equally as smitten with Barry as he was with her, and also equally as reluctant to make the first move in case she was misinterpreting his signals. At the same time, her main "love language" is gift-giving, which meant her once staying up all night making multiple batches of oatmeal raising cookies just to perfect them, then presenting them the next day casually as if they were just something she'd whipped up for the group in her spare time. (Taako is well aware that Lup hates oatmeal raisin. Taako is also well aware that Barry loves them. Taako never lets her live this down when they're gossiping privately.)

-my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute headcanon about them: I love thinking about her relationship with Magnus. Among the Starblaster crew, I think they're the only ones matched in boundless energy, and they're constantly having little friendly competitions, racing each other up the mountain to get to the Light or downing shots. I also think it'd be really cute if she and Ren struck up a friendship through Taako post-canon, in which Lup gives her some "real" magic pointers, much better than the "boring Transmutatiom shit" Taako taught her.

-a song that reminds me of them: The cover of "Skeletons" by Of Monsters and Men has always given me massive Lup-inside-the-umbrella vibes. I think of her singing it to Barry and/or Taako while she's inside there. On a lighter note, "Hot Knife" is an excellent Blupjeans song from her perspective, imo.

-what animal I think they would be if they were an animal: I'm very torn between two rad phoenix-like birds--the Cooper's hawk, which is a social bird of prey known to hunt in groups, and the lammergeier, which colors itself bright red and eats bones and is decidedly punk rock.

-what position they sleep in: Curled up, preferably on a nest made of the softest possible pillows and blankets and plushies for that good sensory time.

-their favorite drink: She loves really fancy, fruity cocktails that cost like $18 and barely taste like alcohol. A really good Cosmo, for example.

-a gift I would give them if I could: I honestly think she would be so into Lush products. I would give her like a million bath bombs and soaps and also the money to get her to open up Fantasy Lush in Faerun.

This was wonderful!!!

#lup #barry bluejeans #taz lup #headcanons #moine #ask meme #nightingale sang #blupjeans #taz #the adventure zone #the zone cast #ren #taako #taz ren

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anartic-monkeys · 5 years ago

Text

[fanfic] of flavoured names and coloured sounds (chapter 1 of 2)

In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name.

LINKS

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567740/chapters/56541799 FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13547597/1/of-flavoured-names-and-coloured-sounds

CHAPTER 1

(The albino peacocks produce varying shades of reds and violets, the house-elves create splashy tones that have the tendency to give him a headache when subjected to prolonged exposure.)

That’s when he becomes certain that this condition is unique to him. If they could see the colours he sees and if they could taste the flavours he tastes, they would all be snappish too.

Then there’s Hermione Granger.

“When you’re older, you’ll learn to value the flavour of an excellent Sauvignon Blanc,” his father had reassured him.

Sometimes, he could convince himself that he could get drunk just from her name.

(Later on, he started to favour the alcohol of her given name over the fruit of her surname whenever he would stroke his cock through his sleeping trousers.)

The word foul tastes like oatmeal and the word evil tastes like cold chicken soup.

“If you’re pining after the weasel, don’t you think you should have gone with him as your date?” he asks, startling her.

She jumps up and whips around to face him, wand already tightly held in one of her hands, tear tracks still marring her face. “Malfoy? Did you… did you follow me out here?”

He cringes, the taste of residual beeswax coating his tongue at the thought of the word conundrum.

“How can you be drunk? Alcohol’s not allowed—”

When he returns to his dorm room, he places about half a dozen silencing charms on his bed, draws the curtains closed, and for the very first time, wanks himself off to images of Hermione Granger.

When she had finally gotten up to leave, he noted that it was just a little over ten minutes before dinner time. “Thanks for letting me use the book, Malfoy.”

“Draco.”

“Why did you save me last year?”

“I didn’t assume anything, Malfoy. You saved me that night.”

He’s always been a quick study, but there’s nothing like the fear of your infatuation being exposed to your deranged aunt to really get someone to master a spell.

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guccisvt · 6 years ago

Text

A Different Side

Genre: Smut Word Count: 5k Warnings: Sexual content (Duh), multiple orgasms, daddy kink, sight deprivation, use of a vibrator, demeaning words/ phrases, constriction but hey, all in a trusting, controlled environment. Please don’t read if it doesn’t butter your biscuit. Summary: To prove that you had more to you than work, you decided to try out a club per your friend’s recommendation. You didn’t know that your assigned partner would bring out a whole new side of you. A/N: I have nothing to say other than I don’t know who wrote this but I hope she appears more often. Just read it and let me know what you think;) Thank you to @j0shuwua for beta reading and helping me fix some mistakes♥

You sighed in frustration as you heard the same sentence repeated for what felt like the billionth time. You were on lunch break with two of your friends, just conversing about everyday things when things took a turn. The subject of college popped up and annoyed to remember that they were there for your college career. You studied until your ass fell off, only drank wine or a beer once everything school-related was said and done, and only joined an association so that you didn’t look like a total shut-in. As your close friends were out and about socializing in and out of their sorority, you kept your circle as small as possible.

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice to live the “best part” of your life like that but that diploma was the only thing on your mind and now, it had been years since you got it. You had a respectable, cushy job that you loved and a great paycheck you made sure to utilize. You still rarely went out but there were better things to do. You weren’t exactly one for new experiences but once in a while, you could be spontaneous.

“Hey, I’m not boring.” You pouted as you slouched in your seat. Your friends laughed heartily across the table as you got more annoyed. They talked about all of your boring qualities and sad excuses for “new experiences”.

“Sure you aren’t. You’ve only been to a club what, once, drank alcohol a handful of times, you don’t really make friends outside of work and... when was the last time you went on a date? Or got laid?” Sam asked from beside you.

The last time you remembered being touched was years prior. It was only your second time too. The first was in college when you decided at the very least, you didn't want to graduate college as a virgin. You went to a party, met someone and got it done with. When you were finally out, you had found a boyfriend and tried something with him but it didn’t work out. You hadn’t been on a date in four years much less had sex. It wasn't something on your mind though. You got through your days without it although you had craved it some days.

“I haven’t been on a date since... David?” You awkwardly smiled at your friends as their jaws dropped. Dana reached her manicured hand to touch your forehead.

“Are you okay?” She asked in a dramatic whisper. You pushed her hand off with a chuckle and said you were fine. It wasn’t hard to get through the day without a penis.

“Don’t you ever miss the feeling?” Sam asked, putting her head in her palm, giving you her full attention.

“Sometimes? I don’t really think about it.” You shrugged.

“So you’ve never even thought of having a one night stand?” Dana asked in a low voice.

“A random man in my bed or vice versa? The idea isn’t very appealing.” You shook your head in disgust.

“Well. If you’re open to new experiences, I have a spectacular one for you.” Dana said as she slid back in her seat.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” You asked incredulously.

“I became a member of a private club about a year ago. I think you should go to free your spirits a bit. It’ll be really fun and hey, you could finally get some dick.” She winked.

“What kind of club is this?” You asked in a questioning voice.

She dug through her bag quickly to find a business card for you to read. You stared down at the title, Club Euphoria. The punchline was “The only sin that will send you to heaven.” Inspecting the card further, you found the details of what you had really been wondering and gasped.

“You want me to join a swingers’ club?!” You almost screamed, attracting the nosy stares of a few around your table.

Dana shushed you before slapping your shoulder. “It’s not a swingers’ club! I’m not crazy! It’s more like a...” She took a few seconds to find the words. “...a sex dungeon?”

“Are you serious? Do I sound like the type to try BDSM? Do I look like I want to call some stranger sir while they slap my ass with a riding crop?”

“That’s not what this club is about!” Dana sighed exasperatedly.

“It’s not. I can vouch for her. She referred me to them and let me tell you, Y/N, I’ve never had better sex than I have in that place. When they say, private, they mean private. The rooms are all separated and soundproof, they have security measures in place and they ask for everything before you can even join. They even ask to see your testing records.” Sam explained elaborately, making Dana nod fervently to agree with her words.

“Okay, how much does thing cost?” You asked after a bit of hesitation.

“For you, I’ll pay this time. A regular member has to pay around seventy-five to three hundred depending on the duration and how ‘satisfactory’ it was.” Dana explained. “People don’t go there for a quicky, they go for a whole experience.”

You were actually thinking about it. The idea of being taken care of in a safe environment, even if it was by a handsome stranger was very tempting. You said that you were going to be open to new experiences. Maybe this was the time to start exercising that thought.

You sighed deeply before nodding and calling the number on the card to make an appointment. The operator had such a soft voice, it made you think about how all kinds of people work in the sex industry; all with their different jobs. Dana had explained to the operator that she was a regular and wanted to refer a friend. You chose a time and date that would be appropriate for you. You were instructed to email an STD test result to prove that you were free from any diseases. You would be sent a confirmation email the day prior to your appointment. It was much more professional than you thought it’d be.

“Aren’t you already excited?” Dana squealed as she and Sam high fived in triumph.

“I guess.” You tried to play off her question. Although you wouldn’t show it, you couldn’t wait until Saturday.

The week dragged along and you had managed not to go crazy as it went by slowly. You had successfully sent your test to say that you were clean on Thursday, two days after your appointment was set up. It was Friday evening when you were sent a confirmation email and an excited phone call from Dana. You asked her as many questions as you could think of out of both excitement and nervousness.

“What are the rooms like? Should I bring a change of clothes? How is this going to go down? Am I going to need a safe word?” You rambled, making her laugh.

“Calm down! I’ll answer almost all of your questions. New experiences do involve not knowing everything that’s going to happen.” She giggled through the phone.

You took a deep breath before resuming your questioning. “What are the rooms like? Is it a Fifty Shades of Grey schtick?”

“Not necessarily but it all depends on what you fill out on your questionnaire.” She explains. “And you might want to get there a bit early to fill that bad boy out. It’s quite a bit but they’re trying to make sure you want what’s happening and that it pleases you in the best way possible.”

“Should I bring a change of clothes?” You asked, running your hands through your hair.

“You can if you want to. Sam’s had her shirt ripped off before.” You gasped, subconsciously clenching your nightshirt together. “But that’s what she thinks is hot. He ended up getting her a new one before she left, anyway.”

You sighed before asking probably your last question. “Am I going to need a safe word?”

Dana’s light laugh on the line did nothing to ease your nerves. “It depends on what you fill out. Do you think you’ll be needing a safe word?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you looked around the modern-looking reception area. When you arrived at the venue, it was not at all what you had expected. It had a lobby with a hallway past the receptionist. You only saw one other man there, probably awaiting his appointment. The walls around the area were white and decorated beautifully. It reminded you of a classy doctor’s office but more spacious. You walked up to a very pretty, young receptionist who offered a bright smile when you caught her attention.

“What can I do for you today, ma’am?” She asked politely.

“I um- I have an appointment today.” You cleared your throat.

“Can I have your last name and see your confirmation email?”

You told her your last name and pulled up the email you received the night before on your phone. She nodded and clicked on some things before pulling out a small packet, a clipboard, and a pen.

“You’ll have to fill this out before your session can start.” She smiled again, making you reciprocate the action.

You sat down a few seats away from the older man you saw earlier. The questionnaire in your lap stared back at you. The first questions were basic information but as you moved on, it was all about your kinks and what you were and were not comfortable with. Wanting to show your friends that you were not one to always shy away from new things, you darkened the circles next to constriction, sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms and something you never thought you’d want to try out. There were others you were hesitant to try but threw in there for the heck of it. You were taking a risk on this place and the person who would be assigned to you. All of the things you jotted down, you had thought or dreamed about at least once.

You sighed before looking over the document once more and getting up to give it to the receptionist. She took it and got up from behind the large semi-circle desk that she worked on.

“If you’ll follow me.” She directed with a hand movement. You followed her down the hallway you saw when you came in. There were rows of doors that led to where you would be. Although you heard nothing, you couldn’t help but think that there were people already ‘enjoying’ themselves. When the receptionist opened the door with a key and ushered you in, you were in awe.

“Please change into one of our complimentary robes. If you brought a change of clothing or would prefer to be nude, please feel free as well. There is a storage space for your belongings. Please do not leave them around and about. We are not responsible for your lost items.” She informed. “Your partner will be here momentarily.”

You nodded in appreciation before watching as she left. There was a lock on the inside of the door which you chose to use before surveying the room more closely. The walls were a deep navy color. The bed, couch, and vanity all complimented each other. You wondered if the people here had personal interior decorators. You drifted towards the nightstand next to the left side of the bed. Out of curiosity, you opened it to find a pack of wet wipes, a bottle of baby oil, a bottle of lotion, a vibrator, a pack of condoms, and a bottle of lube. Good to know they were truly prepared.

You remembered that you did not want your partner to enter and find you still clad in your jeans and button up. You stripped, taking everything but the matching bra and panty set you had on, off and carefully folded your clothes into your bag with your change of clothes before putting your bag away. You took a silky burgundy robe off of the bed and tugged it on, enjoying the feeling and fresh smell that emanated from it.

You sat patiently, waiting for your partner before realizing you should probably turn your phone off. You walked to your bag and took out your phone, catching about three messages in total from both Sam and Dana wishing you luck. You smiled before shutting the device off and putting it back.

You were walking back to the bed when you heard a knock at the door.

“May I come in?” You heard a soft voice ask.

You straightened yourself up before walking over to the door and unlocking it. You strode back to the bed before telling him that he could come in. You watched as the door opened to reveal a lithe man with beautiful, tan skin. His black hair covered his eyes before he shook his head, allowing you to look him in the eye. He turned to lock the door before walking towards you and putting his hand out for a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Joshua! And you are...”

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Joshua.” You said, smiling to yourself due to his own blinding grin.

“Why are you standing around? There are places to sit.” He teased before leading you to the couch in front of the bed.

You chewed your lip nervously as he observed you, unashamedly racking his eyes up and down your figure. You stared back at him, however, taking in his all black ensemble. At least he looked comfortable.

“So, before we get started, I just want to go over some things.” He began, crossing his fingers and leaning on his knees. You nodded slowly.

“I made sure to carefully look at your preferences and it seems like you were looking for quite the rough activity.” He chuckled. “That is why we’ll have to issue a safe word. Are there any that you have in mind?”

You had thought about this the night before. You didn’t know what you were in for but knew what you wanted and it was all but: “Vanilla.” You finally uttered.

The man sat next to you with wide eyes and a large smile as he heard the word pass your lips.

“Vanilla?” He queried and you nodded in reply. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

“That’s the point.” You laughed back at him.

“Well, Ms. Y/N, I also have a point to get across.” Joshua leaned closer to your form, his body eventually glued next to yours. “For however long you’re in here,” He began as his hand came to graze your cheek before taking a hold of your chin. “I’ll be your one and only daddy.” His face came closer to yours, pulling your lips to brush his. “And you’ll be my babygirl. My perfect little slut.” He growled.

You whimpered a bit before trying to nod the best you could. Your cheeks prickled with heat, surprised by how his personality had changed so quickly. Such a fun, care-free person had suddenly turned into a man that exuded such a dominant air.

“I need you to confirm in your big girl words, baby. What do you say?” He asked with a mischievous tilt of his head.

“Yes, daddy.” You responded right away.

You felt his lips curl upwards before they finally met yours in a searing kiss. You leaned further into the kiss, pulling on Joshua’s t-shirt before he pulled away and turned you around, pushing you face down into the couch. He stayed sat upright, admiring the way your ass was so close to being exposed by your tiny robe. His hands grabbed yours quickly before he took off the fabric belt that held your scarce ensemble together and looped it around your wrists to keep your hands restricted behind your back.

“First rule: no touching.” He leaned down by your ear to whisper.

“Any other rules I need to know of?” You mumbled into the soft furnishing.

You could feel your hips being lifted to rest on Joshua’s lap. His surprisingly calloused hand freely groped your backside. He lifted to end of the robe to fall at your midsection, displaying your ass for his enjoyment.

“Rules two and three,” He delivered a quick, painful slap to your thigh. “Don’t talk back and don’t get smart with me.” His hand quickly came down on your ass, leaving a delicious sting. “I’m not the one practically begging to get fucked, am I, bitch?”

You gasped as you felt another harsh hit against your skin. Your fingers squirmed in their restraints but to no avail. You took every slap given without another word, loving the sting and how it added to your growing arousal. After about ten more spanks, Joshua had finally calmed down. His large hand circled the skin he had come so close to bruising. You almost got lost in his comforting touch before your scalp experienced a sharp pain. Joshua grabbed your hair and pulled you toward his mouth. He pulled so hard, your back arched achingly.

“Fuck up and disobey me one more time, I dare you.” He warned deeply, sending a shiver down your spine.

He let your hair go, making you fall unceremoniously back toward the plush couch. Joshua pushed you off of him, not so much as giving you a glance as he stood up to gather some things. Once you were sat upright once again, you watched intently as he set some kind of fabric on the bed before standing a few feet in front of you.

“Time to make it up to daddy.” He smiled sadistically while waving you over to him.

You managed to stand despite the blissful dizziness you were already experiencing. You hadn’t even taken a step when Joshua barked, “Crawl.” You got down on your knees and shuffled by the best you could on the carpet. Joshua peered down at your already disheveled figure. You could see the clear outline of his growing bulge. How you hadn’t notice when he had you sprawled over his lap? No idea. You watched carefully as he unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper.

“You’re going to be good for daddy, aren’t you?” He had finally freed himself from his confines and looked expectantly of you.

“Yes, daddy.” You replied before feeling that now familiar pain at your scalp again. Joshua’s nails dug into your scalp as he told you to open. You complied with no qualms, doing as he said immediately.

“I’m going to get myself off on fucking your face. If you act right, maybe you’ll get a reward afterward.”

His other hand came to join the first before positioning them at the back of your head. He began to push his length into your mouth, watching your expression closely. You looked at him with big, innocent eyes while swallowing around his cock. His head tilted back and he gave a devious smirk before pushing himself to reach the depths of your mouth. You sat patiently with your jaw slack as he continued thrusting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat a multitude of times, making you gag. Each silent moan that he let pass continued to spur you on. Spit rolled down your mouth and fell on your chest. Your robe was falling down your shoulders and on one arm, it landed halfway on your arm. The sight alone was one worthy to make Joshua cum. He knew, however, that he wanted to get you off before finishing himself. In reluctance, he pulled his cock out of your warm, welcoming mouth before bending down to your level on the floor.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He said as he observed your messy hair and spit covered face. “This look just tells me that you want that pretty little pussy wrecked.”

You nodded at him, pushing your face forward to capture his lips only to have him pull back. His right hand grasped your face, squishing your cheeks together and bringing them close to his face.

“Manners, babygirl.” He said lowly.

“Yes please, daddy.” You whined before being rewarded with probably the most sensual kiss you were ever going to experience in your current situation. Joshua’s hand came to the back of your neck, pulling you further into the kiss. You let a tiny moan escape, rubbing your thighs a bit for some much needed friction. His tongue intruded easily, tasting whatever he could before pulling away breathlessly. “I think you deserve a reward, babygirl.”

Joshua lifted you by the arm before pulling you towards the bed you were sitting on just earlier. You sat down in anticipation before you felt Joshua’s large hands at your restraints. He whispered, “No touching” before untying your wrists. He pulled your robe off of you before flinging it off the bed. His hands roamed your body and made it even harder for you not to do the same to his mostly clothed body. In a moment of thoughtlessness you had almost lost it and grabbed him, Joshua looked at you with dark eyes as his bangs settled over his forehead.

“What are you doing?” He asked as his hands parted your thighs quite roughly. You hadn’t even realized the way you had been slightly rubbing your thighs together. Apparently, he had. “I’m the one supposed to be making you cum and yet here you are. Pretty thighs pressed together, you really want to get off, don’t you whore?”

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me already. I really want to cum.” You responded quickly.

“I can fix that.” He smiled.

Joshua unclipped your bra and pushed you to lay down, pulling off your panties before tying up your wrists again. “I’m sorry babygirl but since you can’t wait for daddy, it seems like you’ve earned another punishment rather than your reward. I warned you but I maybe you actually like punishments more.”

You squirmed on the bed, your head thrashing at the pillows in frustration. Next thing you knew, Joshua was telling you to sit up again before enclosing something soft over your eyes. He gently pushed you to lay back down. You could hear him open a drawer beside the bed before rummaging in it. You heard him close the drawer again before feeling two fingers at your heat. His fingers ran along your wet folds, eliciting a long hiss.

“Wow, so wet just from sucking my dick. You really are beautiful, babygirl.” He plunged both fingers in with no warning before curling them expertly. You arched your back, letting out a moan as you felt his tongue at your taut nipple. Your legs began to close unconsciously until Joshua pried them back apart and delivered a hard smack against your heat. You yelped in surprise, making him smile before he got off of the bed again. This time, you could not hear what he was doing.

You eventually felt a cold object pressing against your nipple. You wracked your brain trying to figure out what it was before you were surprised by sudden vibrations to your chest. He had gotten the vibrator from the drawer you found earlier. “Since you don’t want me getting you off, we’ll be using my little friend instead.”

He left the device on as he dragged it down your body from your nipple to your clit. You let out a shaky breath as relief suddenly swept over you. You stretched your fingers as best as you could with them being under you. Alongside the vibrator, you soon felt warm breath fan your heat. The sensation alone made you dizzy. When he licked a stripe up your heat to gather your wetness, you couldn’t hold back your lengthy moan. His tongue did wonders but you bit your lip, not wanting to be caught off guard and told that being loud was another broken rule. Joshua saw this and stopped for a second to watch you writhe under his gaze.

“You’re holding back on me, babygirl. Let me hear those pretty moans.” He said in a voice dripping in sex and authority.

You let go of all worried thoughts and let out every moan you had. Joshua’s tongue was talented and highly complimented the device constantly stimulating your bundle of nerves. With constant stimulation from both sources, you felt heat building up in your abdomen. As your noise level continued to escalate, Joshua got up on his elbows and pumped his fingers deep into you. “Go on and cum, babygirl. Cum on daddy’s fingers.” He coaxed.

Your fingers curled underneath you, digging into the skin of your palm as you came undone. You let out a scream as Joshua felt your walls convulse around his fingers. He grinned as he saw how hard you had cum. Your fluids practically covered his hand as he continued to slowly thrust in and out even as you began to whine in discomfort and squirm.

Much needed, huh? Bet you’ve never cum that hard from someone’s tongue.” He said as he pulled his fingers out of you. You let out a breath of relief and began closing your legs again. You heard a chuckle come from the end of the bed before you could feel the bed move again. You were suddenly exposed to the lighting in the room around you. With squinted eyes, you looked at the figure to your side. Joshua was suddenly naked with all of his tan, supple skin and display. A small smile played on his lips as he told you to lay on your stomach. You rolled around onto your stomach slowly, breath heavy and eyes still adjusting.

You felt your restraints being untied again before your hips were lifted. Your head was buried in the sheets where you wanted it to stay forever. As you continued to regain your energy, Joshua was rolling a condom down his shaft with ease. His large hands suddenly gripped your hips before pulling you back onto him. His dick teased your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down your folds before letting the tip sink in a bit. One hand ran up your back, leaving tiny sparks up your spine before he took a firm hold of your shoulder and pulled you back onto him. He pushed all of his length into you in one stroke, not caring for your tiredness or the tingling from your previous orgasm.

Your fingers clawed into the sheets beside you as he continued pounding into you. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pulled up again by the hair. The tips of your fingers still pressed into the bed as Joshua ran his tongue along your neck. “You like it when I pull on your hair, don’t you slut?” He asked as the hand on your hip moved towards your clit. “You’ve never been fucked this good, have you?” The whisper had your spine tingling and mind reeling.

“No, daddy. You’re the only one who’s fucked me this good.” You cried out as he grasped your breast. You heard a deep chuckle before he bit a spot underneath your ear. “How bad do you want to cum?”

You let out a groan before bringing your hands to his butt, pulling him closer to you, letting him push deeper into you. “So bad, daddy. Please let me cum. I’m gonna lose it if I don’t cum!” You nearly yelled. His only response was to let your scalp go and let his nails dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. You nearly broke out in sobs as he brought one hand to your clit and began rubbing quick, fluid circles. You went silent as you came, seeing stars when you closed your eyes. Toes curling and breath lost, you gasped into the pillows. Joshua’s hold on your hip soon subsided as he came, a deep groan coming from him. He pulled out and let your body fall limp on the bed as he stared at you.

Eyes closed, chest heaving, and hair everywhere, it was sight he truly appreciated. He sat on the side of the bed, also regaining his energy before he finally asked if you had a change of clothes. Your consciousness was in and out at this point. You only wanted to fall asleep on the big, comfortable bed you were currently curled up on.

“Earth to Y/N? Do you have a change of clothes or should I get you another robe?” Joshua asked as he pulled the bed cover over your form. You mumbled where you had left your purse and that he would find clothes in there. He stood in his still naked glory and threw away his condom before finding your purse and taking out your button up and another set of panties you had brought. He laid them on the nightstand by the bed before stroking your hair.

“You did so well, beautiful. You were such a good girl.” He purred as you enjoyed the feeling of his hand patting your head. “You need to stay awake though. Do you want some water?” His hand lightly shook your shoulder before you whispered a tiny yes please. He walked with a smile plastered on his face, enraptured by your adorable behavior. He grabbed a robe from one of the storage units for himself before also grabbing your bottle of water. When he walked back to the bed and sat down beside you, he also grabbed the baby wipes from the bedside table.

You were told to sit up before he handed you your bottle of water. You drank the entire bottle, wanting to hydrate your dry throat and sore body. “Do you want me to clean you up or are you up to doing it yourself?” He asked as he held up a wipe in one hand and the remainder of the pack in the other. “Can you please clean me up?”

He nodded before pulling the covers off of you and wiping your thighs, butt, and face. You makeup came off easily along with whatever else was on your face previously, making Joshua stare at you longer. “You really are a beaut.” He commented before wiping himself clean and throwing away the dirty remnants.

He came back to help you up as you stepped into your panties and he helped button up your shirt.

“Can I see you again?” You asked as you focused on his expression as he finished buttoning your shirt.

“You could always request me. I’d be glad to have you back again.” He smiled.

“I’d like that.”

-M

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dreamingofjoon · 6 years ago

Text

A Different Side

Joshua Hong x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Sexual Content (Well, it’s smut), degrading words/phrases, contrsiction, visual deprivation,

A/N. Yes, hello, this is something I’ve written on our group blog and wanted to share here as well:) I’m working on a Monster Woo scenario right now

“Sure you aren’t. You’ve only been to a club what, once, drank alcohol a handful of times, you don’t really make friends outside of work and… when was the last time you went on a date? Or got laid?” Sam asked from beside you.

The last time you remembered being touched was years prior. It was only your second time too. The first was in college when you decided at the very least, you didn’t want to graduate college as a virgin. You went to a party, met someone and got it done with. When you were finally out, you had found a boyfriend and tried something with him but it didn’t work out. You hadn’t been on a date in four years much less had sex. It wasn’t something on your mind though. You got through your days without it although you had craved it some days.

“I haven’t been on a date since… David?” You awkwardly smiled at your friends as their jaws dropped. Dana reached her manicured hand to touch your forehead.

“Are you okay?” She asked in a dramatic whisper. You pushed her hand off with a chuckle and said you were fine. It wasn’t hard to get through the day without a penis.

“Don’t you ever miss the feeling?” Sam asked, putting her head in her palm, giving you her full attention.

“Sometimes? I don’t really think about it.” You shrugged.

“So you’ve never even thought of having a one night stand?” Dana asked in a low voice.

“A random man in my bed or vice versa? The idea isn’t very appealing.” You shook your head in disgust.

“Well. If you’re open to new experiences, I have a spectacular one for you.” Dana said as she slid back in her seat.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” You asked incredulously.

“I became a member of a private club about a year ago. I think you should go to free your spirits a bit. It’ll be really fun and hey, you could finally get some dick.” She winked.

“What kind of club is this?” You asked in a questioning voice.

“You want me to join a swingers’ club?!” You almost screamed, attracting the nosy stares of a few around your table.

Dana shushed you before slapping your shoulder. “It’s not a swingers’ club! I’m not crazy! It’s more like a…” She took a few seconds to find the words. “…a sex dungeon?”