#and the fact that the only people who can help her now will very easily be put in the exact same situation the second they're caught | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fel-09 · 2 months ago

Text

You are his problem

Tommy Shelby x reader

Author's notes: Caring Thomas Shelby This is my own separate Roman empire

Plot : You are his problem, one continuous headache, an irresponsible woman whom he loves madly.

Words :1.3к

The night in Birmingham covers the streets with a thick, lingering gloom, and only the light in Thomas Shelby's house is on. Dim, amber, staining the old wallpaper, it barely breaks the twilight in his room. His desk is littered with papers: contracts, invoices, unresolved issues, each line weighing on him more than the bronze storm lantern next to it.

And on his bed, stretched out in lazy tenderness like a cat, lies she.

Her light breathing almost merges with the rustle of paper, her arms spread out in carelessness, and on her face an expression of serenity he can never reach. The perpetual chaos she carries with her is strangely peaceful to him.

Her clothes are lying somewhere in the corner of the room, and if anyone had said she had even a shadow of neatness, he would have only laughed. Stockings-one on the back of a chair, the other must have gotten lost in the folds of a blanket. The garter, the one he'd fastened on her pale skin himself, was gone without a trace, as was the earring she'd bemoaned last week.

She doesn't care about order, doesn't bother with things, hardly remembers where she puts them. He's used to picking up her brooches off the floor, picking up forgotten gloves from the dresser, and searching for her hairbrush, which invariably gets lost between the pillows. He's used to the fact that every morning begins with her searching for missing items and ends with her wearing the first thing that comes to hand anyway.

Thomas runs his hand over his face tiredly, bringing himself back to reality. Long fingers transfer the ink stain from the paper to his temple, but he doesn't care. He needs to finish his work so he can drift off to sleep as easily as she does - as if she doesn't have to think about anything, as if this world requires nothing more than the lazy movement of her hand to once again take possession of everything she desires.

He looks at her and feels a slight weariness, but there is a strange, quiet pleasure in that weariness. He shouldn't be babysitting, shouldn't be taking care of a man who can't even find his own stockings. But apparently that's what he had become.

She rarely did anything on her own. Not because she was lazy (though she was lazy too), but because whenever she did, it turned out to be a disaster. Inept was the word that best described her. If she tried to fix something, the result was always something completely different, most often for the worse.

She could sleep half the day, forgetting all her chores, she could lose her things without leaving one room, or she could try to help, and in doing so she could drive the situation to the point of absurdity.

Like that morning when she had suddenly thought of helping Thomas tie his tie.

He was standing in front of the mirror, frowning at his shirt and the carelessly thrown on piece of cloth. She stretched lazily, yawned, and, seeing his hesitation, suddenly suggested:

- Let me do it.

He only raised an eyebrow, but apparently he was too tired to argue.

So the tie was in her hands.

She took hold of the knot confidently, trying to pull it tight, the way respectable people do. The problem was, she'd never had a talent for this sort of thing. With each new movement, the fabric twisted into something unimaginable, and the harder she tried, the worse the result became.

By the time Thomas suddenly began coughing, she realized she was literally choking him.

His hands immediately flew to her neck, trying to loosen the deadly noose she had so diligently tied.

- God, I'm sorry! - she released the tie so sharply that it tightened even more, and now Thomas was looking at her as if deciding whether to let her live.

He loosened the noose abruptly, took a deep breath, and turned around slowly, very slowly.

- Don't move," he said, burning her with his gaze.

She did the only thing she could do in a situation like this - she put her hands up, feigning complete innocence.

- I'm sorry. I just wanted to help.

He looked at her, then shifted his gaze to his tie, which now looked like it had been used in a fight, and back at her again.

- Did you really want to help or were you trying to kill me?

She laughed nervously.

- If I wanted to kill you, I would have found a more subtle way.

He rubbed his temples and seemed to mutter something quietly to himself.

She concluded that helping was not her forte. Better to lie on the bed, entertain herself with harmless thoughts, and let Thomas deal with things on his own.

At least it was safer for his life.

And for some reason it doesn't annoy him at all.

Thomas had never said it out loud, but he seemed to have accepted that he wasn't just her lover-he was her guardian, her nurse, her controller, the only person who could keep her safe from herself.

She couldn't even take care of her own clothes.

Once he had left her alone for five minutes, and that had been enough for her stockings to disappear into the abyss of the room and her corset to somehow end up tightened on the wrong side. No one could explain how it happened, but the fact remained that if left unattended she inevitably turned herself into a mess.

So he dressed her himself.

At first he just helped - adjusting the straps, pulling up the stockings, buttoning the buttons. But then he realized that if he wanted to leave the house in the next hour, he'd have to take

he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

She sat on the bed, yawning and stretching as he carefully arranged her underwear in front of her as if he were dressing a porcelain doll.

- Lift your leg," he said briefly.

She lazily complied, and he confidently pulled the thin silk stocking over her.

- The other.

She smirked, but complied.

When he was done with it, she ran her finger along the edge of the lace.

- You tie them better than I do.

- Because I don't turn simple things into disasters.

She grinned wider.

- 'You don't trust me too much.

He looked at her, assessing her disheveled hair, the pillow mark on her cheek, and the chaos around her. His gaze dropped to her hands, which were carelessly going through the folds of her skirt.

- And have you given me any reason to trust you on this?

She shrugged her shoulders.

- Probably not. But it's still nice to have you take care of me.

He silently pulled his shirt over her and buttoned it, not even bothering to comment. He was used to it.

Used to the fact that she could go through the day without realizing she'd put her dress on backwards. Used to the fact that every morning started with him looking for clothes for her while she sat lazily on the bed, legs dangling.

And he knew he'd keep doing it.

Because she couldn't survive otherwise.

You couldn't say he was looking for trouble. They found him on their own, as if there was an invisible sign on his shoulders: "You get in trouble, you don't get out."

But then, that day, on the narrow street with the smell of fresh baked goods, he hadn't realized he was in trouble yet.

That day she accidentally forgot her wallet, and he, out of the kindness of his heart, without understanding why, bought a bun for the stranger.

Thomas hadn't realized what a mistake he'd made. He hadn't realized that the girl's parents would just as easily sell her to him, and she would be like an ownerless cat, cautious at first, and then just stay.

And he wouldn't be able to kick her out, of course.

Thomas wasn't sorry. Wasn't angry. Wasn't really angry.

To be honest, he encouraged her behavior himself.

Sure, he scolded her, spoke sternly, arched his eyebrows and gritted his teeth that she'd managed to lose her hairpin again, knocked over the inkwell again, stepped on her hemline again, and nearly tumbled down the stairs.

But as soon as he left the room, he froze outside the door.

And listened.

How she grumbled to herself, how she mocked him, how she tried (unsuccessfully, of course) to cope with another disaster on her own.

Sometimes he peeked out.

Standing in the doorway, watching her try to button the buttons of her dress and then give up and sit on the bed, frowning frustratedly. How she climbed under the bed for her lost earring but got stuck there, and only her muffled exclamation told him that the operation had failed.

And at times like this, he found it hard to hold back a smile.

But as soon as she turned around, his face became stern again, his voice steady, his steps confident.

- Why did you go under the bed? - he asked calmly.

- I lost my earring.

He nodded, walked over, bent down, and after a few seconds pulled out her find.

She looked up at him with slight indignation.

- You mean you found her right away?!

- I did.

She rolled her eyes and looked away, and he smiled imperceptibly again as he walked away.

She was a disaster. But somehow a disaster for him.

He loves her.

Not just loves her - madly, desperately, to the very edge where love becomes obsession.

He loves dressing her. Smoothing the hem of her dress, buttoning the tiny buttons, pulling her stockings over her soft skin. He loves tying ribbons in her hair because he knows that if she tries to do it herself, the knot will be so tight that the devil himself can't untie it.

She's his problem.

A cheeky, cunning, lazy cat who always loses her things, stumbles over things, and can't tie his tie without trying to strangle him. The cat he scolds and then eavesdrops outside the door, listening to her mumble something to herself.

And when her parents came back to get her...

He didn't even let them finish their sentence.

No.

They'd left her when she'd been a helpless girl at the doughnut counter. They abandoned her like she was worthless. And now that she was his, now that he was used to buttoning her dress, stroking her hair, sorting out her morning mishaps with her and watching her throw her stuff all over the house, they decided to remember they had a daughter?

Too late.

- She's staying.

A simple phrase, said without too much emotion.

She lives with him now. She is now his concern. His disaster. His curse.

And damn it, he loves her

her like he's never loved anyone before.

#reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fanfic #x reader #fem reader

782 notes · View notes

baepsays · 15 days ago

Note

I really like your geto and cat satoru fic,

I don’t know if you do request but I wanted to make one where cat Satoru keep opening getos bedroom door. His last straw was when him and reader are about to get intimate but cat Satoru comes in and thinks he’s trying to hurt her so he swats at geto to protect the reader. So geto changes his bed room door lock from a handle to a knob(the round one) so Saturo can’t get in.

A nice mix of cute,funny and steamy 😂

oh anon you are cookiiinggggg!! ok I'll add my two cents

cw: crack, cat Satoru, fluff, NSFW, MDNI, smut, biting, violence (cat on human crimes 😔)

If you told Satoru 'curiosity killed the cat', he would probably shrug his little kitty shoulders, meow, and still jump up to turn the knob on the door to your and Suguru's bedroom. To strut in like he owned the place.

Unfortunately for Suguru, his cat, Satoru, has become so attached to his girlfriend, one could say more than he is probably attached to Suguru. Before he started dating you, Suguru and Satoru had this mutual understanding that sometimes they owed each other some privacy. Satoru did not bother Suguru when he would busy himself with work, and Suguru would not bother Satoru when he would be cleaning himself.

So it was honestly surprising to wake up that morning when you came over to his place for the first time, to see Satoru practically throwing himself in your arms every chance he got. Especially for a cat who does not beg for attention—because it is simply given to him, it was shocking to say the least.

And it only got worse with time. Suguru and your relationship started off in a little eccentric way, because most people would make a face if you told them you started dating a guy you met at some club, drunk out of your mind, and went home with him to meet his cat. The fact he became your boyfriend within a month, was not even a surprise to you or your friends. Considering how easily you got infatuated with him, and Satoru definitely had a hand, correction, paw in that.

These days more often than not, you are over at Suguru's place, and whenever you are there, no one can take Satoru even an inch away from you. You are watching the tv with Suguru, he is lying on the couch, you are in between his legs and leaning on his chest, and Satoru is on top of you, with his nose in your neck and his whiskers tickling you.

You are cooking in the kitchen? Satoru is following you around like a good sous chef, and slytherin between your legs for more attention, he even has his own chef's cap! Very professional of him.

You are folding laundry on Suguru's bed? He is sitting beside you , following your movements very carefully, and putting his paw on your hands and meowing at you; offering help like the gentleman- the gentle cat he is.

As cute and adorable as you find Satoru's clinginess and as equally attached you are to him, Suguru does not appreciate his feline roommate wooing his girl. Especially whenever you are in his room by yourself, he has to race to the door to get in before Satoru, so Suguru can lock the door in his face. All of that just to have some quality, cat free, time with his own girlfriend.

At first Satoru used to just scratch on the door, or slide his paws under the door, and meow very aggressively, so you would always give in and open the door for him.

"I feel so bad, Sugu." You turned your face on his chest, to now look at the door, itching to open the door for your poor poor Satoru.

"Do not baby, he is just being dramatic, you know that." Suguru sighed and continued running his hand through your hair.

“MEOWWWWWW MEOW MEOWWWW.” Satoru kept on screaming at the top of his little kitty lungs, saying something like, ‘LET ME INNNNN.’

"But, his throat will hurt later, it always does."

“Then it’d be his own fault. Like it always is.”

Sure Satoru is a cute cat, lethal to any human with even the tiniest amount of weakness for cute creatures; but you are honestly just worse than Satoru. Suguru can ignore Satoru and his tantrums, but he cannot say no to you or your pout. That is the only reason why Suguru always ends up staring at the ceiling in his own bed, while his cat cuddles his girlfriend, and if he even tries to reach out to hold either one of them, Satoru would swat his hands away. Like the territorial little prick he is.

To combat this whole situation, Suguru had to install sound proofing for his room without your knowledge. And for further precaution he needed to bribe Satoru with treats and toys. All that to distract his annoying little cat from butting in between him and you.

So far it has been working great. Sure sometimes Satoru would catch on mid way through eating his treats, or playing with his toys, so then he would sprint to the locked door to meow and scratch at the door, for you would open the door for him. Sadly for him, you were behind that door, being absolutely devoured by Suguru, drowning in the sounds of your own moans and his groans—oblivious to your poor cat’s agony, thinking he might be taking a nap, like Suguru told you.

And after he would be done, when Suguru would open the door to check on Satoru, after cleaning you up and putting you to sleep—he’d find an angry and sulking Satoru, hiding under his favorite coffee table.

“You want to sleep under there?” Suguru crouched down to check on Satoru.

“Meeeow.” Satoru hissed in response adn sprinted straight for the open door, and snuggled up in your arms. Hissed some more at Suguru when he returned to bed, swatted his hand that draped over you, and fell asleep in your arms, with Suguru’s hand petting his back.

Things were going good for Suguru, until, the day Satoru figured out how to fumble around with the door knob just enough, that it opened.

Satoru was a fluffy cat, but under all that well groomed white fluffy fur, maintained by the best of the best shampoos and Satoru’s expert tongue—was a long stretchy cat, longer than most cats. He has always been a big cat, but when he stretches, there is no competition. So he used that to his advantage, and fucked around with the knob with his trimmed and painted claws—Satoru never liked getting his nail trimmed, he would scratch up Suguru so bad he had to start going to a cat groomer, and even then they’d give up on Satoru, saying something like,

‘NO WAY ANYONE CAN HANDLE THAT STUBBORN ASS CAT!’

Yet, when one day you bought this pretty baby blue nail polish for him, made for cats, he became all putty in your lap. He sat all cute and steady there, staring up at your face, while you concentrated on trimming his claws, making sure to not hurt him. WIth pretty blue nails, he just got cuter, and posed like a supermodel for your camera—while Suguru sat in a corner and judged you both.

‘click.’

So with his pretty blue claws, he opened the door. And the first thing he heard when he heard he opened the door was your whimpering. And his ears twitched, perked up, as he steadily made his way into the room.

“O-h-fuck.fuck.fuck-SUGURU!” Your hands tightened around Suguru’s neck, nails on one hand dug themselves further in his shoulders, while your other hand’s fingers tightened around his loose locks.

“Y-eah baby, uh uh, louder. Come on. Gimme me another one.” Suguru murmured beside your ear before he bit down on your earlobe.

“Fuccck. S-stop.” Your voice was becoming more shrill with each thrust.

Suguru had you basically folded in half, in a mean mating press, legs suspended in the air, and thighs pressed down by his hands; digging into the soft skin of your inner thighs. It was simply dizzying, how his hips were positioned to piston into your cunt, every thrust went straight against your cervix, and up to your head.

“C-close, so close baby. Where d’you want it?”

“In-inside.”

Without further exchange of words, his thrusts got deeper and sloppier. He was close, so close, you could tell. And you were close to your, god knows which number, of orgasm; and he could also tell. It was just the way your walls were squeezing around him a little bit more harder than how it was before,

“Fuck. Fuck, b-baby, I’m, I’m gon- WHAT THE FUCK!”

You were dumbfounded, with your eyes shut tight, anticipating for Suguru to fill you up; instead you met this empty feeling inside your pussy, and suddenly the weight on your body was also gone. It took you a second to realize what was even going on, and it was only a particular noise that finally made you open your eyes.

“MEEEOOOOWWWW!!!!” Let’s say Satoru was cursing out Suguru in his own feline language as bad as he could for a pampered cat, who had a decent amount of street cat friends.

“GET OFF ME YOU STINKY WHITE RAT!” Suguru tried his best to get Satoru off his head, and Satoru in return tugged on his hair as he swung left and right in the air, holding as tightly onto Suguru’s hair, as his little paws allowed him to.

“MEOW MEOW !!??” Let’s translate that, ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING TO HER YOU ASSHOLE!!??’

“SATORU! YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Suguru finally got a hold on satoru, and suspended him in the air like you hold a baby, while Satoru thrashed around in protested and swatted his hands as hard as he could, going as far as to bringing out his pretty manicured claws, to teach Suguru a lesson! How dare he try to attack you! How could he! Satoru knew he was up to no good! So this was his plan all along! To separate Satoru from you so he would not be able to protect you! Maybe he attacked you because you were now Satoru’s favorite instead of him. How petty of Suguru really, Satoru expected better from him.

“Ok. Leave him. Give him to me.” You wrapped yourself up in the blanket lying on the floor, after you managed to somehow get up with your back almost giving up on you.

“DID YOU NOT SEE WHAT HE DID! HE IS STILL BEING A BITCH.” Suguru shook poor Satoru by the scruff on his neck in the air like a dirty wet towel.

“MEOW MEOWMEOW MEEEOW!” Maybe Satoru understands human language, ‘WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH YOU PIECE OF SHIT!’

“YEAH I CALLED YOU A BITCH, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO HUH?”

“MEOWWWWWW!” Satoru grumbled in return, ‘TRY ME ASSHOLE!’

“ALRIGHT! Both of you, disperse.”

Like obedient good boys, they both stopped fighting, Suguru let him go, and Satoru landed on his all fours, to run straight into your arms. While poor Suguru, and his deflated cock, made their way to the bathroom, while giving the ball of fluff in your lap a stink eye. And Satoru gladly returned his hateful gaze.

“Meeeeeeoooowwww, meow meow?” Satoru licked your face, trying to check where you got hurt or not. While pawing on the blanket around you, to reach your face.

“I am fine honey.” You patted his back, trying to sooth him, and calm him down.

“I’ll get you back for this, you little shit.” Suguru murmured to himself as he slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

NICE TO MEOW-T YOU

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: divider by @/enchanthings-a

lol i yapped on sm it became a whole oneshot. about the request thing- i am not necessarily taking them, but if you have any ideas or requests about smth i have already released then hell yeah tell me more i'll write you smth about that.

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @soupicidesquad @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi

444 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 4 months ago

Text

Benefits

Hi lovebugs! This can be read as a standalone, but this is a 3 parter. The first part will be put up here but the next two are Patreon exclusives if you’re interested. (Part two is up now) I hope you guys love it.

Check out our Patreon for part two and 220+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.6k

Warnings- Asshole-ish H, smut, slight degrading, oral, slight possessiverry, etc

She knew he was watching.

A subtle smirk played on her lips as she helped herself to a drink in the kitchen, nearly able to feel the man’s eyes on her as he traced her dress. One she wore just for him, but would never admit to. He wasn’t good about hiding how much he watched her, how much he had been curious about her, but he hadn’t talked much to her. Only stared.

She'd been warned that Harry was a man of few words. He didn't go out of his way to talk, he was the stereotype of tall, dark, handsome and dangerous-but it's exactly what she's been craving. Twisting the lid back onto the mixer, she finally raised the cup to her lips as she turned around to face him. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was watching her. His eyes didn't stray. He liked that she didn't waver in her staring back, too. Y/N could tell.

It had been a long time since a man had properly excited her. She wasn’t exactly the easiest to please, if she was being honest. Y/N got bored easily, she liked to play games, to test people to see if they could handle her- but something about Harry had her fully understanding that he could handle her, no problem. Maybe it was just the look in his eyes that told her he was intrigued by her but also wanted to eat her alive, but she quite liked it.

Her eyes flirted with his, as she slowly took a sip, her throat bobbing delicately. "I think you're enjoying the view." Her voice was sultry, a taunt. She was baiting him, daring him to respond, to engage. The game of cat and mouse had been fun, but she wanted to be caught. "You're not very good at hiding it."

“M’not trying to hide it.” His raspy voice made her internally peek up. She’d only heard it a handful of times but each one had nearly had her purring. The man had the voice of her wet dreams, and she sort of hated how he was checking off boxes she had purposely put too high.

A small smirk played on her lips as she set the cup down, her hands moving to rest on the counter. She leaned forward, her arms stretching out in front of her, very aware she was very generously handing over a view of her chest for him to glaze over. "Is that so?" She asked, matching his tone. "You're just going to stand there and stare at me then?" The challenge was laid out softly, despite the tension in the room.

“Mm. I was enjoying the view.” His body was leaned against the cabinets of the kitchen, no shame at all in admitting the fact. “Think y’like when I look.”

Her eyes traveled up his face and met his eyes, a slow blink the only reaction to his words. She liked it, damn it. She liked being the focus of his attention, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly sweet or romantic. There was something about his blunt honesty that drew her in. "And what if I told you I don't like it?" She asked, her voice a gentle purr. "What would you do then?"

“I’d tell you t’stop looking like that and maybe we could come to an agreement.” His eyes kept contact with no issue, challenging her back. “I know you’ve been looking back at me when y’think I’m not going to notice.”

God, he was hot. It was infuriating, really. Men weren’t supposed to effect her like this. She’d always had the upper hand, but this one had her wavering as she reached up to twist a strand of her hair around her finger. "And what kind of agreement would that be?" She asked with a soft tilt to her voice. She loved the way he spoke, the way his accent rolled off his tongue. It was so…different to the general population of men she was used to. Some could accuse her of being excited over having a new flavor at her fingertips, but Y/N would argue that anyone who got a few moments alone with him would feel that level of excitement prickle their nerves. "One where I stop looking at you and you start talking to me?" The girl suggested, the small smirk playing on her lips growing.

“Perhaps.” Crossing his arms, he stood up off the counter and slowly sauntered over to her. “Was tryin’ to figure you out. Don’t get new additions in the group often, and you’re different than the people we’re usually around.” His tall form had her lifting her head a bit to keep his eyes as he stopped in front of her.

She’d been right. He was taller than she’d thought, and broader. The man had kept a physical distance before, but now she was feeling the effects of him dropping that barrier. He was just so…large. And it made her feel small, which was a feeling she rarely experienced. "And what have you figured out?" She asked softly, tilting her head to the side as her eyes fluttered to his lips briefly before meeting his eyes again.

“I’ve figured out a couple of things.” Taking another step forward he gave her the chance to move if she wanted- but she didn’t. Backing against the counter, she didn’t shy away from him. “Mostly that you’re a little bit bratty, but you aren’t fake. You’ve been mostly nice t’everyone.” It had been a relief. Harry wouldn’t have been shy about calling her out on ulterior motives, but he only knew of one- and it had come after she’d already met everyone. “And you want me t’fuck you.”

She swallowed hard, her heart in her throat as he took another step forward. Again, she could have moved, but she didn't. Instead, she stayed put, her back against the counter as she met his gaze. His words were blunt, and she liked that about him. Most people would sugarcoat things, but not him. "And what if I do?" She asked, her voice faltering slightly for the first time in a long time. It was so different, but...She liked it. He had managed to get her to feel something different. Naturally making her feel a little more submissive when she had been so used to taking in the opposite role.

“I’d fuck you.” Harry rose a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to do it since I met you. Had to figure out if you were someone who was going to stick around.” The tension was thick between them. “I don’t usually fuck people just once. Don't like to think with my dick. But I think you’d want it more than once.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the heat pooling between her legs at his words. She’d known he wanted her by the way he had looked at her body, but hearing him say it out loud had her insides quivering. He was so…crude and it was so hot. "I’d want it more than once." She admitted breathlessly. She wasn’t one to shy away from the fact. "And how many times do you think it would be?"

“I’m not in the business of letting you nut off and fuck off. If m’fucking you, you’ll be in my bed for hours. I don’t go easy.” It was the truth she needed to hear. Harry wasn’t one to half ass sex, and considering he’d been letting the want fester for a bit now, he had plenty of things he wanted to do for her. “Is that something you can handle?”

Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse as she responded, "Hours? That sounds...nice." She wanted to tell him that she could handle anything he threw at her, but she knew he'd only call her bluff. She'd never had a man talk to her like this before when she had confidence he could actually back up the claims, and it was exciting. Y/N wanted to know what else he'd say, what else he'd do. "And if I can't? What happens then?"

“Then I’ll walk away and let you continue your night. M’not going to do any of that if it isn’t what you can take, or isn’t what you want.” He made no effort to move, though, because he already knew what her answer is going to be. “You’re not gonna make it weird for everyone else in the group after we fuck, yeah? You’ll be able to behave yourself whenever we go out for the stupid dinners and drinks?”

She swallowed hard, his words making her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. The way he was talking to her, the intensity in his eyes, it was all so new and thrilling. "I can handle anything you give me." She said softly, her voice filled with a confidence she didn't quite feel but wanted to project. "And I can behave myself. I'm not some teenager who's going to go running to the group about this."

“Just got t’be sure, Cherry.” Lifting a finger up towards her bottom lip, he smeared the lipstick with his thumb before pulling it back. “You don’t seem to be the kiss and tell type, but you never know.”

Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as his thumb brushed against her bottom lip, again the action so simple yet so hot. A little invasive- in a good way. She couldn't help but part her lips slightly, inviting him to touch her more. "I'm not. And besides, who would I tell?" She asked softly.

“That’s the right answer.” He sighed, taking a second to look over his shoulder and back to her face. “C’mon then. M’not fucking you here. Don’t want you to have to keep quiet. If I’m fucking you, I want to hear you.” Curling his hand around the back of her neck, he brought her out the back door. “S’a short walk.”

——-

He had a nice house. Smaller, with a porch and garage. Newly painted, lawn maintained and a little tree in the front. It wasn’t the bachelor pad she had expected, but she really didn’t know that much about him- did she? That was becoming more apparent the longer she spent near him.

“C’mon. Inside.” He unlocked the door and ushered her in, relieving them from the chill of the night. “Shouldn’t go out without a jacket next time.” The grumble seemed to make her laugh as he tossed his keys into the bowl, kicking his shoes haphazardly on the mat. She hadn’t expected to go on a stroll, so she had left the jacket in her car- but he didn’t really care about that. “Do you want a drink? Or do you just want to get into it?”

Her eyes scanned the cozy interior of his home, taking her even further by surprise. No, it wasn’t the bachelor pad at all. It was tidy and clean, with a few personal touches that gave her a glimpse into what was probably his actual personality. She noticed a guitar in the corner, a few books on a shelf, and a framed photo on the mantle that she couldn’t quite make out. “Huh?” The place had warmth she hadn’t expected to see, and the distraction was evident as she vaguely heard him ask something.

“Do you want me t’get you a drink, or do you want me to get to fucking you?”

Her attention snapped back to him, his words making her blush. Honestly? She really did love how blunt he could be, no sugarcoating or beating around the bush. It was so common to have people be coy about what they wanted, but then again Harry wasn’t anything close to most people she had met. "Oh, um, I think I'll go with the second option," Her words came out slightly shy, with a hesitant smile. She looked around the room again, taking in the details, before her gaze landed back on him. "But first, can I ask you something?"

“Yeah.” He grunted, taking a step into her space and putting his hands on her waist as he backed her further into the home. “Make it quick. Dick’s fucking aching.”

Her breath hitched as he moved closer, his hands on her waist making her feel small and delicate. She licked her lips, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she asked, "It’s just…Why me? You've barely said two words to me before tonight. And now...here we are." She trailed off, nibbling her lip. A nervous tell.

“Because I was trying t’see if you were someone that was going to stick around.” He said bluntly. “Lots of people pop in and back out. Didn’t know if you’d be one of the floaters. Got to watch you and see how you were before I talked to you. I wanted to see what you’d say.” While some could call it a little creepy, he’d more so put it as educating himself for the best result. “Wasn’t sure you’d be okay with me fucking you. Some people can’t handle me or how I talk. You’re a sweet little thing but I can tell you like some of the nasty shit. So we’d most likely get along.”

She blinked at him, processing his blunt words. A small, almost imperceptible shiver ran through her body at his assessment. He had been watching her, evaluating her...and apparently found her worthy of letting her see a whole different side of him. Y/N hadn’t pushed her luck in regard to asking about him but she figured there wasn’t much people would say anyways. It was obvious to her through her own observations that he had been quiet about a lot on purpose. Considering there were a few people in the group that did indeed find him incredibly attractive, it was more than exciting that he had chosen her- mirrored her own quiet interest. The thought sent a thrill down her spine.

"I...I appreciate your thoroughness," she said, a slight tremor in her voice, though trying to still appear confident in the way she had tried to portray. It wasn’t an act- she really was like that- but Harry had that little edge to him that made her want to soften up. "And you're right, I can handle you. I like a man who knows what he wants."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “And what do you want, specifically?” Her voice was low, almost breathy as she looked up at him. “With me?” His words had given her a lot to think about. The way he had evaluated her, the way he had found her worthy all while barely knowing her, and the way he had so bluntly admitted that he wanted her around for more than just a one-night stand. But she wanted to hear it all.

“I want to have an arrangement between the two of us. Told you, m’not someone who fucks people once. Not sure if m’looking for a relationship, but I want to like the person I’m fucking.” It was convinent for a release, having an understanding. “We’ve obviously got physical chemistry, find each other attractive and have the same friends. I think…” He leaned his face closer to hers. “We should be friends that fuck. Often.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze locked onto his. "Friends with benefits," she clarified softly. "No strings attached, but...exclusivity?" She wanted to know that she was the only one he was sleeping with, even if they weren't in a traditional relationship. "And we can still hang out with our mutual friends, just...without them knowing the details?" She bit her lip, considering the proposition.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, I don’t have the time to find other people to fuck. Work a lot, and I’ve got particular taste. I don’t want to worry about you fucking around either. Too much shit goes around. Eventually I’d like to ditch the condoms.” He shrugged, firmly gripping her waist to pick her up and set her on the hallway table. “It’ll be nice. You can just… Call me when you need to be fucked. I’ll call you. Scratch the itch. The rest don’t have to know a thing.”

She let out a soft sigh as he set her on the table, her arms wrapping around his neck as he towered over her. "Alright," she agreed, her heart racing at the thought of being exclusive with him. "Just you and me, no strings, no other people involved." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "And...no labels either, right? We're just friends who fuck, nothing more."

“Right. As long as you know that cunt’s mine to fuck for now, I’m happy.” He chuckled under his breath, nudging her thighs apart. “You wore this dress for me, didn’t you?” Fingers dragged up her inner thigh as he questioned her. “Cause you wanted my attention.”

She let her legs fall open, her breath hitching as he nudged her thighs apart. Her heart fluttered at his words, her insides clenching at the possessiveness in his voice. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew she had. When the confirmation that he had been coming had been dropped in the group text, she had taken getting ready a bit more seriously. Though she hadn’t expected this to be the outcome. Not in the slightest. "Yes, it was for you," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper as he touched her thigh. "I hoped you’d like it.” She squirmed, her legs spreading further. "Did you?

“Decided to take you home, didn’t I?” Shaking his head, he let out a sigh as he watched her squirm. “Course I fuckin’ liked it. But you’ve been taunting me, and you weren’t subtle about it either. Figured I had to ask you now.” Ghosting his fingertips along the hem of her panties, he tangled his other hand in the ends of her hair to tug her head back. “Could tell you were starting to get a little desperate.”

She moaned softly as he pulled her head back, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before locking onto his again. "Well, you were staring at me like you wanted to eat me alive," she retorted, her voice breathy. "So...yeah, maybe I was getting a little desperate." She bit her lip, shifting her hips forward. "So, are you going to touch me now?"

His touch was gentle, almost torturously so, as he ran his fingertips over the damp fabric. His eyes were locked onto hers, watching her reactions intently. "You're so eager. Though m’not so sure I like the sass. I’ll do as I like, and you can tell me how good it feels." he murmured, his thumb pressing down on her through the thin material. "I bet you're dripping, aren't you?" His touch grew firmer, ever so slowly rubbing his thumb over her clit.

Her breath hitched, her hips bucking forward to meet his touch. She hadn’t been sure how he would be in this sort of scenario, but it was better than she imagined. It took a special sort of man to make her feel even the slightest bit submissive and she almost melting. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice slightly shaky. It was embarrassing how wet she got for him before he’d even touched her. "I'm...I'm soaking for you." Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her head fell back against the wall.

She could feel his touch like a brand through the thin fabric, her legs spreading wider to grant him better access. Her breath came in short gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. "Please," she whimpered, her hips moving in rhythm with his touch. "It's not enough..."

“Greedy.” He laughed through his nose. “I was curious how you’d be once I got my hands on you. You talk a big game, like t’be a tease… but in reality, you’re a desperate little slut, hm?” It was the most he’s ever spoken to her, but she couldn’t complain when his words went straight to her cunt.

"I can’t help it! You started it.” She gasped as he found a rhythm, her body tensing as his fingers tugged the panties to the side, slipping under the fabric. "Oh god…” She moaned, her body tensing as his calloused fingertips grazed her bare flesh. His words made her squirm, her body trembling as he slid a long, thick finger inside her.

“I didn’t start anything.” His voice was contained, even as he spoke with the smug little smirk on his face. “I told you, I needed t’figure you out. I hoped you’d be like this…” Looking down to where his hand was hidden between her legs, slowly pushing his finger in and out of her sopping wet cunt, he licked over his bottom lip. “Desperate. Melt at the slightest touch. You rejected everyone who came up to you at the bars when they wanted to take you home but you love t’flirt. You knew they wouldn’t be able to give you what you needed- so you waited for me to move in.”

"Mmmm…” She let out a moan as he slipped another finger inside her. "They can’t handle me. They want to try but I don’t want someone to try- I want them to do it.” she whimpered, rocking her hips into his hand. "You’re wrong, you did start it.” She gasped out, her back arching as he crooked his fingers to graze against that sweet spot inside her. "You walked in and you...you just stared at me like you owned me.”

“Because I did.” He leaned forward, letting their lips brush. “And now I do. This wet little cunt is mine to fuck for now. Got all slick before I had even laid my hands on you, fucking filthy.” He sneered. “Listen to that.” The sound of his fingers fucking into her were audible beneath her pants.

The squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of her quivering hole echoed through the room, a lewd melody that grew louder with each thrust. Her own wetness made his digits glisten, the sound of her coating his skin becoming embarrassingly audible. Every push into her tight hole was met with a wet slap of his palm over her clit, punctuated by her short breaths and gasps.

"It is your fault!" She hissed, her voice strained as she tried to keep quiet. "You kept staring at me like…like you wanted to devour me. It's not fair!" Her hips jerked forward as he increased the pace, her hand flying to his shoulders to steady herself. "You're gonna make me come like this." She hissed, her nails digging into his shirt.

“Then cum.” He taunted. “If it’s all my fault that your desperate pussy got all sloppy and wet, cum on my fingers and show me that then. Barely even touched you and you’re clenching all around my fingers.”

Her breath hitched, her face flushing with heat. "Oh god, shut up..." She hissed, her hips bucking against his hand as he curled his fingers inside her, getting the spot she couldn’t get on her own. "H-Harry… Fuck." She let out a high-pitched cry as she finally shattered, her inner muscles tightening around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Her body trembled as the intense pressure building inside her finally broke. Her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, squeezing them as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. The lewd sounds of his digits moving in and out of her drenched opening grew louder as she writhed against his hand, soaking his skin. Without thinking, she buried her face against his neck, muffling her whimpers as the peak of her climax washed over her.

"There y’go. Filthy girl, making a mess of my hand.” He coaxed, slowing his fingers down but rubbing right against the spongy spot in her cunt to make it last. “That’s what you needed, wasn’t it?”

"Mmm, yes." She mumbled against his neck, her breath hitching as aftershocks wracked her body. "Please...please no more..." She whimpered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she clung to him, boneless and spent. "It's too much." Her voice was soft, vulnerable.

“I think you can take more.” He said with a laugh, but pulled his fingers out anyway. “But since m’nice, I’ll give you a second. I’ll go easy on you since it’s the first time we’re fucking, but next time m’not stopping. You’ll keep cumming.” Harry had plenty of plans for her, she had no clue how much he’d been planning on this. “C’mon.” Scooping her up easily, he had her wrap her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders as he carried her through the house.

"You’re insufferable.” She muttered, her head nuzzling against his neck as her body trembled in the aftermath of her release. She let out a soft squeak as he easily picked her up, her face flushed as she hid it. "Where are we going?” She asked, her voice soft. "I can walk, you know...” Y/N trailed off, her face flushing. "I’m not light, either.”

“Shut the fuck up with that. M’holding you, and m’not struggling.” He grunted, giving her ass a swat as he kicked open the door to his bedroom. “Bringing you to my room. Since your cunt needs a second, figured it’s nicer on your knees if you’re kneeling on my carpet t’suck me off.” The bluntness showed its head again as he felt her pull her face from his neck. “Been thinking about you getting that lipstick you keep wearin’ all over my cock.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing darker. "Oh...” She trailed off, licking her lips unconsciously as her gaze lowered to his crotch. "You mean like this?” She asked, her voice soft and sultry as she slid down his body to land on her feet. She slowly sank to her knees, her hands resting on his thighs. "Maybe I will, maybe I won’t..."

“I think you will. You’ve been gagging for it.” His hands grabbed the buckle of his belt as she looked up at him on her knees, the picture absolutely perfect. “You look awfully good there. Think you were made to be on your knees for me.” Depositing the leather onto the floor, he reached for her face and let his thumb smear her cherry red lipstick. “Go on. Undo my trousers, take my cock out. Know it’s what y’want. Don’t have to play coy with me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as he smeared her lipstick, her tongue darting out to lick at her lips. "Mmm, you think so?” She cooed, her hands moving to his fly. She deftly undid the button and zipper, her slender fingers pushing the fabric down his hips. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the bulge in his boxers, her voice low. "Maybe…” Her breath hitched as she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric. "Maybe I'll take your cock out and give it a little kiss first," she whispered, her hands gripping the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down to help his cock out.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips once more. His cock was thick, the head flushed a ruddy red. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, feeling the heat radiating from him. "So big and hard for me." she purred, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Brushing her tongue around the sensitive tip, she smeared the precum that had leaked out. Looking up at him, she felt the thrill in her stomach as his eyes darkened with lust as he watched her. She opened her mouth, slowly lathing her tongue lick up and down his shaft from base to tip.

“There y’go.” He breathed, gathering her hair in a loose excuse for a ponytail. The red had transferred some to his cock and he loved the vision. He’d thought about it more times than he could count. “One day, think I should film this. Let you see how pretty you look on your knees.” He murmured, watching as her tongue ran back over the slit. “Get it wet.”

Humming in approval at his words, her tongue continuing to lap at his length, eyes fluttered closed as she felt his hand tighten in her hair. “I would like that.” Continuing to lick him, her tongue traced the ridges and veins of his cock before she looked up at him, wrapping her lips around the tip.

“Good.” He grunted as he felt the plushness of her lips take the head of him into her mouth, the slow pull of the suction. “Take a little more. Know you’ve been thinking about sucking this cock. Show me.”

As he spoke, she listened, taking more of him into her mouth. Unfortunately, she was not as immune to him as she had tried to be. It seemed she had met her match, wanting to please him in ways she usually scoffed at with any other man. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head up and down, doing the work she needed to make him pleased. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in time with her mouth as she looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her throat working around his thickness.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughed deeply, head tilting back as she showed him what he had asked for. “Thatta’ girl. Knew you had it in you. Shit.” He cursed under his breath as the heat of her mouth welcomed him, taking him much better than he had anticipated.

She could feel his hands in her hair, guiding her pace, making sure she was taking him just right. The salty taste of his precum mixed with the musky scent of his arousal was intoxicating, making her head spin. She looked up at him, her lips stretched around his girth, and saw the raw desire in his eyes. It only fueled her own hunger, making her suck him even harder, desperate to please him.

Y/N moaned around his cock as he bottomed out in her throat, the vibrations traveling up his shaft. Her nose pressed against his pelvis as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting to make him hiss. She held herself there, savoring the feeling of being so completely filled by him before slowly pulling back to catch her breath. Strings of saliva connected her lips to his spit-shined cock.

His face contorted with pleasure as she deep-throated him, a guttural groan escaping his lips. "God, you're so good at that." Harry praised, his hands fisting her hair tighter. His hips bucked forward, meeting her bobbing head, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room. His breathing grew heavier, chests heaving as he struggled to maintain control. "You’re gonna be a lot of fun to fuck, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” With a messy pop, she pulled his cock out of her mouth, saliva dripping from his glistening tip. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust, before leaning forward and spitting directly onto his cock. The mess hit him dripping over the side, making him hiss in surprise. Rubbing her saliva into his cock, she coated him in it as she smirked up. Getting him to react was a reward. He had barely said anything to anyone, and she was the one getting him to groan and hiss. Sue her for feeling a little special. “Think it’s wet enough?” She purred, coy as she looked at him through his lashes.

Before she could say another word, Harry grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, his mouth crashing against hers in a searing kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips, making her moan in surprise. Was he good at everything? She could taste herself on him, the salty sweetness of her saliva mixing with the heat of his own mouth. Biting down on her lower lip, he pulled it gently between his teeth before letting go.

"You talk too much."

Her breath hitched as he spoke against her mouth, his voice low and commanding. She could only manage a whimper in response, her knees growing weak. He took advantage of her parted lips and weakened stance, slipping his hands around to squeeze her ass, pulling her flush against him so she could feel him against her tummy. "But you're right," he murmured, voice roughened by desire. "You've made quite a mess. Think you’re ready to take my cock?"

She nodded eagerly, her eyes locked onto his intense gaze. "Then turn around and bend over the bed," he ordered, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. She quickly complied, feeling a rush of cool air against her bare backside as she leaned forward, gripping the bed sheets tightly.

As she leaned her chest further into the bed, she felt the soft fabric of the comforter against her breasts, her hard nipples grazing against it. Every sensation felt a little overwhelming, but in a good way. It had been a long time coming considering how she had tried to navigate how to work up how to simply talk to Harry, and now he was her supposed friends with benefits. Patience was wearing thin. Swaying her ass enticingly, wanting to give him a good show- make him break. The room was filled with the sound of her shallow breathing, her chest heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. Behind her, she could hear the crinkle of plastic as he sheathed himself in a condom.

She could imagine how Harry must look right now, his dark eyes fixed on her ass as he prepared himself. The thought sent her reeling. If only she had eyes on the back of her head. Feeling him step close, his body heat radiating off of himself and into her bare skin, she lifted her hips slightly, trying to guide his cock to press against her soaked entrance.

Harry's strong hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements and controlling the pace. control- he was exercising the control that she clearly did not have. She felt the tip of his prick slowly push against her, inch by agonizing inch. Gasping, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets as she stretched to accommodate his size. The sensation was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but she welcomed it nonetheless, pushing back against him to encourage him to continue. "Oh, fucks sake.” She sulked into the mattress.

,"It’s not fair. You can’t.. You’re not supposed t’have such a big dick when you act like one.” Her words came out in a string of stuttered moans as he seated himself fully inside her, his hips flush against her ass. He gave a low, satisfied chuckle, his body tensing as he held himself deep inside her. She felt her insides clench around him, her body instinctively trying to adjust to his size. “Oh, no? You don’t like it?”

She shook her head vehemently, biting her lip as she felt him throb inside her. "N-no, I love it. I fucking love it." She admitted breathlessly, her voice thick with need. "It's just not...fair that you get to have such a perfect cock and you waited so long to give it to me." She punctuated her words with a roll of her hips, relishing the drag of his thick length against her walls.

Her insides felt like a silken vice around him, pulsating rhythmically as if trying to milk him despite him not being inside her long enough to do so. Her body was already betraying her as her walls quivered around him, her inner muscles fluttering as if trying to entice him to move, to draw him in deeper. Her body was warm, and she was tight, gripping him as if she hadn’t been with anyone in years.

A smug grin spread across his face as he let out a low, satisfied groan from deep within his chest. “Well, m’sorry, babe. Had t’make sure you’d be a good fit for my cock. I think I made the right call, though. Tight little thing, squeezing me the way I like.” He taunted, his voice laced with amusement. His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he slowly began to move within her. "You like how I fill you up?" He punctuated his words with slow, measured thrusts, his voice growing hoarser as she clenched around him.

When she struggled to answer, he let out a laugh instead. He continued to speak for her, his voice a low, husky rumble as he slowly pumped into her. "Yeah, y’like being stuffed full of my cock. Like how it stretches you open and makes you feel so fucking small." He teased, his fingers digging into her hips as he picked up his pace slightly. "Barely able to talk back to me when I know you love to run that filthy mouth. Must be because you’re not used to being filled like this.”

She mewled, her hips rolling to meet his thrusts. He was right. Embarrassingly so. The wet squelch of his cock plunging in and out of her filled the room, mixing with the erotic symphony of their moans and groans. He could feel her getting more slick, her arousal coating his shaft and dripping down onto his balls. "That's it, take it deep like that. You like to play tough, but you just want t’be a good girl for me. Isn’t that right?"

Her response was a strangled cry, her pussy fluttering around him as if to agree. He grunted in approval, his hips snapping forward to fill her again. "Good girl," he praised darkly. "You're doing so well. Such a good little thing, taking me so well. Now answer me.” The croon was soft, a direct opposite to his pace. “Gonna let me fuck you when I want, mm? Gonna call me when y’need it too?”

She keened, her voice echoing in the room. "Y-Yes please... I- I'll call you. I'll be good. I'll... I'll let you. I'll let you whenever you want!" Her words came out disjointed, broken up by his thrusts growing a bit harder, jostling her where she laid. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white as she tried to keep herself grounded.

"That’s a good fuckin’ girl. You're gonna be so well-behaved for me, aren't you?" He cooed, his voice a soothing contrast to the growing brutal pace of his hips. One hand slid up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her arched as he took his pleasure from her. "You're mine t’play with now, understand? This pretty little cunt belongs to me." As he continued to pound into her, she felt a sense of contentment wash over her. This was exactly what she needed - someone to take control, to make her feel desired and owned. And Harry was perfect for the job. They were going to be lovely friends, with many benefits. As she teetered on the edge of her climax, she felt a sense of peace settle over her, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

859 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 7 months ago

Text

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

#gravity falls #the book of bill #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #scalene cipher #bill cipher #euclydia #scalene and euclid #(euclid's only mentioned in passing but at some point i'll do a matching post about him too)#(scalene's made up fictional condition's inspired by like 2/3 scoliosis and 1/3 ehler dahlos)#(but again it's a fictional condition for fictional aliens. not an accurate 1:1 reflection of anything irl)

1K notes · View notes

wonusite · 2 years ago

Text

Cat and Mouse

❝ Wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant in avoiding him after the amazing night you two spent together, but he’s not going to let you get away from him so easily. ❞

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader

GENRE: bad boy au, smut

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: bad boy!wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, descriptions of minor injuries, wonwoo is down HORRENDOUS, reader is in denial about her feelings, our bad boi is soft for one (1) person, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare

ㅤ→ continuation of this timestamp

A/N: here’s a little something to celebrate one year with this blog. very grateful to all my followers and mutuals who’ve made this past year amazing! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Wonwoo glares at his phone, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

It’s been a week. An entire fucking week without hearing from you. He knew he should’ve ignored Jihoon’s calls and stayed in bed with you that night, but when he sent a message saying the entire crew needed to be there, he couldn’t ignore it. Now, he really wishes he would have.

The night he spent with you was the most incredible of his life, and now he might never relive it because he left in a haste, only leaving you with a brief kiss and a promise to come back.

“You still torn up over that sweet lil’ thing from that flower shop?” Seungcheol's voice has never sounded more irritating than it does now.

“That’s Shua’s girl, dumbass.”

Being on the receiving end of that mean tone and angry glare doesn’t faze Seungcheol in the slightest. In fact, it only causes his infamous smirk to get wider. To see the stoic Jeon Wonwoo acting up over a girl is not only a rarity, but it’s also really fucking funny. That’s why he can’t resist pushing Wonwoo’s buttons further.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seungcheol cackles. “Guess you better hurry up and help us finish this shit. Her shift ends soon.”

Wonwoo can feel his irritation near that boiling point he could usually avoid. Of course Seungcheol knows about your schedule. That asshole has the annoying habit of knowing everything about anyone who is even the tiniest bit associated with the crew. Sure, it’s for precautionary reasons, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Nonetheless, Wonwoo focuses on the task at hand so he can catch you before you leave work.

Jeon Wonwoo is the bane of your existence.

From the moment he first came around with that stupidly attractive smirk of his, your life was never the same. And now that you fucked him, it never will be again.

Giving into your carnal desires isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but getting mixed up with the likes of Jeon Wonwoo definitely is. Despite not knowing all of the grimy details, you know he’s bad news. You can see all the red flags clearly—the people he hangs around, all the fights he gets in, and the tattoos littering his body. And yet, none of those warning signs mattered now or when Wonwoo was ravishing you in a way that still made your toes curl just by thinking about it.

Maybe the worst part of it all is that you can’t get the resident bad boy out of your head, or the way he held you after you two had sex. It’s like you can still feel how he nuzzled into your neck, strong arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Part of you hopes that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t had some urgent business to take care of. It’s a dangerous thought, but even so you can’t help but crave that uncharacteristically sweet side of him that he presumably only showed you.

A displeased sigh comes out of you as you gather your things to go home. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo, but to think that you’re actually pining over him even though he literally disappeared after your night together is—

“Y/N left already.”

It’s Mingyu’s voice you hear at first, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You wonder who could be asking for you until you hear someone answer him. It feels like your heart is going to jump out of your chest when you hear a familiar deep voice that has your stupid pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Alright. Thanks.”

You peek out from the back when you hear the door chime. It’s annoying that your chest tightens when you see a set of wide shoulders draped in a leather jacket walking toward the large motorcycle parked outside. The way your mind goes blank yet is also clogged with nothing but thought of Wonwoo is infuriating. You don’t realize you’re pouting at the exit until Mingyu jumps back in shock at seeing your sulking figure.

“Y/N what– I thought you left!” He says, vaguely gesturing behind him. “You just missed your boyfriend! I think he wanted to take you home—”

“Boyfriend?” You interrupt him, not entirely angry or disgusted that your coworker had referred to Wonwoo as such.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? The scary dude with the leather jacket that comes in here all the time just to see you. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

It’s almost mortifying that your sweet but oblivious coworker can tell that there was something going on between you and the resident bad boy. And yet, there’s also a part of you that likes the fact that Wonwoo is so obvious about his feelings. You don’t know what to make of these conflicting emotions that you can’t seem to shake, and seeing Wonwoo (even just the back of him) didn’t help you find the clarity you so desperately need.

“Well, even if he’s not, he definitely wants to fuck you.” Mingyu says with a wink as he brushes past you to check on the pastries he had put in the oven ten minutes ago.

You wonder how he would react if you told him that Wonwoo already has.

Wonwoo thinks you’re the cutest person ever. And the part of you he finds the most cute? The fact that you actually think he’s going to let you avoid him forever. You’re good at it, he’ll give you that (even if he can see right through your every method).

It’s funny that you actually change your off days and regular working hours just to avoid seeing him and throw him off, which it does—at first. He knows you haven’t quit because Josh mentioned seeing you at the bakery when he went to buy the love of his life a cake for her birthday. This is confirmed when he goes to see for himself the next day.

Maybe you don’t realize Wonwoo can see you run to the back through the large glass windows when you hear his motorcycle, but either way he thinks it’s funny. Actually, it’s hilarious because soon enough you were going to give into him like before.

Meanwhile, you feel like a mouse being preyed on by a sly cat—one that’s toying with you before he finally catches you. Avoiding Wonwoo had been easy at first, but now you’re starting to wonder if he had let it seem easy.

“Babydoll.”

You almost drop a tray of croissants when you hear a familiar deep voice calling for you. The way you whip around with a gaping mouth must be hilarious because Wonwoo just smirks at you in that infuriating way that drives you crazy. Your hands tighten around the tray as you snap your mouth closed, trying to contemplate on how to navigate the situation.

With a bit of a mental pep talk, you finally manage to put up that happy to help attitude you usually had with every other customer. The smile you give him feels exaggerated and fake, but it’s the only way you can mask all the emotions you’re feeling.

“What can I get for you?”

That devilish smirk widens as Wonwoo pretends to skim all the delicious pastries in the case before he sets his smoldering eyes back on you. “This all looks good,” he muses quietly, but you can hear him perfectly since it’s only you two. “But I think you’re the only thing that can satisfy my hunger.”

It kills you that his words make you heat up from the inside out. You ignore him and start to put the croissants into the case. The clench of your jaw is tight and bordering on painful, but it’s the only way you can keep your emotions from spilling over for him to see.

Unfortunately, your lack of response doesn’t really faze him. One thing you’ve come to learn about Wonwoo is that he’s never uncomfortable in the silence. You wish you could say the same. You’re nearly squirming by the time you’re done placing the croissants in their designated space because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

Finally, you look up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. It’s so intense that you almost want to look away. However, there’s a part of you that loves being under the heat of his stare since you can clearly see the desire he has for you.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’ve been gone.” You counter, vaguely aware that you sound like a sulking girlfriend.

Wonwoo realizes this too because he gently coos at you. “Missed me, babydoll?”

Yes. “You wish.”

It’s obvious Wonwoo doesn’t believe you. That stupid smirk of his only seems to get bigger with every passing moment, and you don’t know if you want to kiss it or smack it off his face.

“I missed you.” He tells you honestly, loving how you’re visibly growing flustered with his words.

Resisting him would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so tempting to you and if the feelings he always evoked from you weren’t so strong. Before you can say anything to betray your easily crumbling facade, Mingyu comes out from the back with a tray of small cakes. Wonwoo gives you a once over before stepping away from the case.

“I’ll be back after your shift. Wait for me.”

You don’t wait for him—technically. It’s not waiting since Wonwoo is already outside of the bakery when your shift ends. He’s clad in his leather jacket, dark jeans, and signature combat boots. It’s not fair that he can lean against his bike so casually while looking as good as ever.

Ignoring him would’ve been all too easy, but you can’t when you notice the bruises and cuts on his pretty face. A familiar irritation bubbles in your chest, but annoyingly enough, it’s overpowered by the concern you feel. You react before you can fully think your actions through.

“What the hell!”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen the tiniest bit when you stomp over to him with angry tears in your eyes. You can’t even enjoy his cute shocked face because of the overwhelming concern and anger you feel. All you can do is hit his brawny chest in frustration.

“You—You asshole!” Your voice cracks with raw emotion as you continue to weakly hit his chest. “You said– you promised that you weren’t going to fight anymore—!”

Wonwoo lets you hit him. His chest aches, but not because of your soft blows. The last thing he meant to do was make you cry, and it’s something he wishes to never see again. His large hands come up to cup your face, fingers delicately wiping your tears. “I know I should’ve kept my promise, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a quiet whimper at his tenderness. His eyes are full of so much remorse and concern that it makes any remaining willpower you have left disappear. It feels right to bury yourself in his chest and let yourself be held by him. He caresses your back, and you can’t hate that it actually makes you feel better.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back and smack Wonwoo’s beefy chest again. “Asshole.”

“Your asshole.” His haze is tender as he cradles your tearstained cheek in his hand.

You scowl at him, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when he places a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. A sudden desire consumes you when you see Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze. This time you let yourself be driven by your desire and press your lips against his.

It’s easy for him to melt into the kiss. Wonwoo sighs into your mouth as one of his hands comes up to cup your face. His rings feel cool against your warm skin, and you let out a quiet moan when his other hand slips into the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass while pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow at first until your hands smooth over Wonwoo’s chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. You part your lips to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. It feels like you got struck by a bolt of electricity the longer his lips are on yours. His desire and hunger are evident in his needy movement, and you absolutely love it.

When you two finally pull away, you’re left breathless. Wonwoo’s thumb gently caresses your cheek as his heart pounds harshly in his chest. “Stay the night with me, babydoll.”

“M’kay.” You breathe out, mind still swimming.

The smile he gives you is so pretty that it makes something inside you burn with ardent desire. You feel like you’re floating on air when Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet that happens to be your favorite color. He looks bashful as he waits for you to accept it, and you wish you could take a picture of his pretty blush.

In spite of all the reasons you have not to take the helmet from him, you still do. And you don’t regret it.

You’ve never allowed yourself to regret the things that you’ve done because life is too short for regrets. But you definitely regret avoiding Wonwoo as long as you have, especially with the way he’s trailing his lips along your legs. Every wet kiss he leaves behind has your heart hammering and your cunt clenching in want.

Finally, Wonwoo gets to your inner thighs. His large hands spread you open with ease, eyes dark when he sees your wet pussy.

“Fuck.” His gaze fixed between your legs as if he's in a trance. “You’re already so wet.”

Your toes curl when his breath ghosts over your cunt. It sends delicious shivers throughout your body, and you have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into his face. But as you’re starting to learn, it seems like Wonwoo knows what you want before you even ask for it.

“You want my mouth, babydoll?”

Wonwoo nearly blows his load when you nod cutely, a needy mewl escaping your lips. “Please.”

He hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, thumbs spreading your folds open for his viewing pleasure. Wonwoo resists his ravenous desire for you long enough to toy with your pretty pussy before he actually tastes it—a luxury he hadn’t gotten to do last time. His rough hands are soon occupied with you, one hand pinching and flicking your sensitive clit while the other gently rubs your slippery folds.

“Fuck, baby.” You whine, biting down on your lower lip. “Feels so good.”

Your cunt is dripping with so much of your arousal that Wonwoo’s fingers are drenched as he slowly rubs circles against your aching bud. It’s throbbing and pulsing in need as his pace grows the tiniest bit quicker. You can’t even try to contain your moans as you stare down at your boyfriend.

Wonwoo has a huge smirk on his pink lips. You’re making such a mess on his fingers, and he just loves it. “You look so fucking cute when your squirm like this, babydoll.”

A needy whimper tumbles past your lips when he presses a gentle kiss to your throbbing clit. It pulses under the attention like it wants his mouth again. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide as he licks the remnants of your arousal off his lips. The addicting taste makes his control snap, and in the next second he smashes his face into your cunt like a starved man.

Your hips start move on their own as Wonwoo groans deeply into your drooling pussy. His mouth latches onto your clit, massaging the nub with his tongue. The movements are skilled and toe-curling, and you already feel like you’re fucked out.

“Wonwoo!” You cry out in absolute pleasure when he slips two fingers inside you.

His long fingers work your cunt open, curling up to rub the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Your mouth is dropped open in a silent min the longer Wonwoo fucks you with his tongue. He captures your juices with his tongue only to slobber them all over you again. Your hands grab ahold of his hair as he keeps moaning into your wet pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine with every one of his movements.

All it takes his his nose bumping against your clit as he licks around his pumping digits for you to come all over his face. Wonwoo groans into your creamy cunt, licking up every drop of your release.

“So fucking messy.” He grunts as his hand spreads your folds and exposes your heat to the cool air. His fingers trail down your cunt, tenderly rubbing along your sensitive lips. “Fuck, just look at that cream."

You can’t contain your needy moan when Wonwoo brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s so fucking hot that you just want him to fuck you until you can’t think. Before you can get him to do exactly that, a heavy weight settles on your soppy cunt. His cock is hot and wet as it slides between your folds.

“You feel so good, angel.” Wonwoo groans as he thrusts forward, coating the underside of his dick with your arousal. “So fucking wet, just for me.”

The mouthwatering sight of your folds splitting open as he slides his cock between them makes him feel like he’s drunk. Maybe he is. Drunk on your pussy, that is. He only gets to enjoy the feeling for a second before you eagerly buck your hips against his.

“Let me ride you.”

It’s a miracle that Wonwoo doesn’t come all over your stomach at the words you moaned so desperately. He’s quick to get into position, leaning against his headboard as you hover above him. You look so eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumbs over them.

Wonwoo’s free hand reaches for your ass. He roughly kneads the skin before slapping it. You moan out in pleasure. Everything is almost too much for you to handle. The sight of him bellow you waiting patiently for you to fuck him like the first time is making your core throb with insatiable desire. His cock rests on his stomach, leaking with precum and waiting for you to sit on it.

The hottest part of it all is how Wonwoo’s looking at you with unadulterated desire and affection—like you’re a living goddess on top of him. Your hands are splayed over his muscular chest, and he just loves the feeling of them smoothing over his hot skin.

His hands move on their own, caressing your hips and mapping out every inch of your body with his rough hands. Wonwoo kisses any part of you he can reach, lips trailing from your neck down to your collarbones. His large hands slip back to your ass to deliver a sharp spank which makes you fall forward. Wonwoo skillfully captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue immediately gliding over your hardened nipple.

“Nonu!” You cry out as your arms hook over his shoulders to keep him close, softly moaning as he switches between your tits, warm tongue swirling around each erect nub.

The cute little nickname makes his cock twitch. Fuck. You were going to drive him completely insane.

He gently nips at your sensitive bud before pulling away to look up at you. “You look so fucking pretty on top of me, babydoll.” He murmurs, forcing himself to stay still as you shift against his leaking tip.

His sweet praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. You mewl as he teasingly circles his cock against your pussy. The insistent nudges from his leaking head are making your head swim with pleasure. You’re so soaked at this point that he can feel your arousal start to stick to his skin.

Finally, you can’t resist any longer and slowly sink down on his cock. Your tight walls stretch wide, welcoming the bulbous head with just a bit of resistance. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’d already forgotten it felt to have such big and thick dick inside you. His cock isn’t even halfway inside yet, and you can nearly feel him in your stomach.

You sit back and slowly circle your hips, throwing your head back with a moan when his twitching tip nudges your walls repeatedly. Wonwoo feels like he’s gone and died to heaven with the filthy show you’re giving him of your soppy cunt. He curses quietly at the sight of your tight cunt clinging to his fat tip, nearly blowing his load at the erotic sight.

“Show me what you can do, pretty girl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a wanton moan and your hands braced behind you, you slide all the way down. You whimper at the stretch, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Mewls flutter from your lips, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being forced out of your lungs.

Once he’s fully inside you, Wonwoo is sure that he’s never going to feel as good as he does now. His head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him is absolute heaven. You share in his feeling as you moan loudly, completely full and stretched out as he grips your ass to steady you on his dick.

Wonwoo can’t stop looking at the fucked out look on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. You don’t notice how his pupils are blown out with lust at the sight of you impaled on his cock. His heart fluttering in his chest because fuck, you’re like a literal goddess on top of him.

“Shit, babydoll. You gotta move.” He sounds out of breath, almost needy with his plea.

Wonwoo looks so fucked out and pretty that your pussy tightens around him at the hot sight. That's all it takes for you to give him what he wants. You lift your hips before slamming your ass back down. His cock reaches so deep inside you that you throw you head back with a loud cry. It makes you ravenous, and you eagerly repeat your movements until your practically bouncing on his cock.

You lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a bit when your lips meet his neck. As you litter his skin with wet kisses and gentle bites, you feel his cock throb and twitch inside you. It makes you think that you might actually get him to come first this time.

At least, until Wonwoo commits the tender act of pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“Fuck, Nonu.” You whimper at the stimulation. “You’re so deep.”

“Missed having you on my cock, babydoll. You look so fucking pretty being split open like this.” His fingers trace your stretched hole before they slap your clit.

You moan wantonly when Wonwoo suddenly thrusts up, going impossibly deeper. That’s when you know he's about to ruin you in the way you’ve been craving. You shove your face into his neck, sucking and biting his skin so he can move you on his cock in the way he wants. Apparently, this isn’t enough for him, though.

Wonwoo grips your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “Need to see your pretty face while I fuck you stupid.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s gripping your ass and grinding you on his cock. His fingertips press into your soft flesh as he lifts you and brings you down his length. You start bouncing to meeting his pumps. Broken mewls contrast with Wonwoo’s groans and mix in the the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping. His abs tighten every time you come back down, thighs flexing beneath your ass.

Your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, and the feeling is quickly driving you insane. The knot in your stomach is coming undone fast, much faster than you want, but you feel too good to stop. Wonwoo isn’t doing much better. His mind is only full of you and the way your hot cunt is gripping his cock. The carnal look in his eye is locked to where you’re connected. He’s mesmerized with strings of arousal connecting his skin to your dripping folds.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock—just like last time. Gonna let me pump your pretty pussy full again, babydoll?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out mindlessly, a delicious ache blooming in your core. “Whatever you want!”

You can’t believe Wonwoo has the audacity to blush like you two aren’t literally fucking like animals. It makes you gush around him, orgasm so close that you can feel it in every inch of your body.

“God, baby. Keep fucking yourself stupid on my dick.” He growls as he fucks up into you harder, needing to see you come undone on his cock.

The leaking tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again until your eyes gloss over like you’re on the brink of tears. Wonwoo will never get enough of that fucked out face of yours, and it drives that insatiable desire in him to fuck you impossibly harder.

It takes only a few more deep thrusts for you to come on his cock with a loud moan. Your body shudders and shakes against him in absolute pleasure. Wonwoo’s movements don't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and straight into overstimulation. But you can’t really care because it feels so fucking good. All you can do is cry out his name until he’s emptying his balls inside you.

“Y/N!” He groans into your ear as he pumps you full of his hot cum, thick ropes filling you to the brim until it’s leaking out and coating his heavy sack.

You’re gently grinding into each other as your mouths meet for a messy kiss. Wonwoo’s still-hard cock keeps twitching inside you, and you can’t help but groan into his mouth at the feeling.

“More.” You plead against his lips. “Want you to keep stuffing me full of your cum.”

“Fuck, angel.” Wonwoo pants out. “You’ll be the death of me.”

But if this was death, he’d gladly embrace it every time.

Wonwoo moves down the bed until his back meets the messy sheets. With his hands secured on your waist and the back of your neck, he pulls you down to his chest and forces you to take every inch of his throbbing cock. At this angle, he feels even thicker. Your mind goes blank as his fat dick spears into your tight hole relentlessly.

Wet noises fill the room, dancing in the air with your wanton cries. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, smearing down to his loaded sack. Wonwoo moans along with you, large hands sliding down your body to grip fistfuls of your ass. You let out a broken gasp when he grinds up and pulls you down, stuffing you to the brim only to do it again and again.

You’re panting and whimpering as his cock sinks in deep, plugging your dripping cunt. Tingles of ecstasy course through your quivering body with ever snap of his hips. You aren’t even moving anymore, it’s all Wonwoo. He’s fucking you on his cock like you're his personal fucktoy. The more you think about it like that, the more turned on you’re getting.

Your hot cunt tightens around his veiny cock. The drag of his veiny length stretching you out makes more of your juices coat his dick and spill down to his heavy balls. Wonwoo shudders when he feels how tight you keep getting. He can feel his own high quickly approaching.

“You gonna come for me again, babydoll? Soak my cock with your cream and make a mess all over me?” Wonwoo changes the angle of his hips as he speaks his lewd words. The tip of his cock slams into the soft spot inside you that makes you scream in pleasure. He keeps pounding into you from below without stopping, and you love every second of it.

“Fucking love your cock.” You babble mindlessly, any and every thought that’s not about the fat cock splitting you open being fucked out of you.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine now.” Wonwoo growls possessively. “Gonna be mine forever, right, baby?”

It’s all too much. His filthy yet sweet words combined with his fierce thrusts make you fall over that edge and into your orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. Your body erupts in flames as you squirt all over Wonwoo’s aching cock. He keeps you locked on his dick, balls slapping against your ass as he continues to pound into your gushing cunt.

“So fucking good.” Wonwoo groans gutturally before his hot cum floods your ruined cunt, painting your stretched out walls and claiming you in every sense of the word.

So much of his cum spills out and trickles down his pulsing cock, and you whimper when Wonwoo fucks it deeper into your pussy. You’re both sweaty and sticky, yet there’s still a burning ache in your core that seems like it can only be soothes by Wonwoo and his big cock.

“Want it again.” You moan into his ear, clenching down on his twitching dick. “Please.”

This is where you learn that the resident bad boy can never tell you no.

You barely process him flipping you over and manhandling you into the position he wants. Wonwoo presses your legs against your chest and start to pound into you with rough thrusts. He’s slow but brutish, slamming against your cervix every time he pushes in. Your cream soaks his thick cock and your inner thighs. It slowly drips down to your ass where his heavy balls slap against the tender skin.

“Fuck, babydoll. I’ll never get enough of this tight little pussy.” He sounds so gone, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.

You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that delicious feeling in your stomach. Wonwoo’s words have you clenching around his dick, and he lets out a deep groan. He keeps moaning out praises about how good you are for him, but it’s hard to focus on his words when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly.

You continuously gush around Wonwoo’s cock on the brink of yet another orgasm as you leave a stain around the base. Your pussy is stretched beyond belief, and it feels so fucking good that’s it’s making you delirious.

“I’m gonna have to stuff this pretty pussy full every day.” Wonwoo moans, loving how your cunt keeps spasming around his throbbing cock. He’s fantasised about this for so long, and now that he’s had you he’s completely addicted to you.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You wail, soaking his cock even more at his promise, leaving it dripping.

Wonwoo’s thrusts grow more powerful and ravenous. The pretty sounds you’re letting out every time he drives in and out of you is driving him insane. It’s not long for the harsh snapping of his hips to finally send you into your climax. This one is more somehow more intense than your previous one. Wonwoo groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock.

Each time Wonwoo strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Making a mess all over my cock.”

“Come inside me.” You beg with a loud moan, mind already so far gone to think about anything else but being fucked full of his hot cum.

Your lewd plea only drives his desire for you. Wonwoo feels his orgasm approaching with every rough thrust. His balls are aching to be emptied again, and he doesn’t hesitate to chase that euphoric feeling. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills, cock twitching and throbbing in your hot cunt.

A huge load of cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the minimal space his cock hasn’t covered. Wonwoo slowly fucks it into you until you’re both whimpering from the overstimulation.

When he pulls out, his cum and your cream slowly leak out of your messy cunt. The fucked out pants you’re letting out are quickly stifled by Wonwoo's lips. You moan into his mouth as he slowly lets go of your legs and hooks them around his hips.

Pulling away, you barely register as he starts to tenderly kiss all over your body. You’re completely sated and too gone to acknowledge your surroundings even as Wonwoo gets up and brings back a warm towel. He gently cleans you up, whispering sweet praises that make you feel a different type of euphoria.

“Hold me, Nonu.” You finally manage to say when you realize he’s done cleaning the both of you up.

His smile is so pretty and precious as he goes to lay with you. The way he cradles you against his chest is comforting, and you know that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

#svthub #wonwoo smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #wonwoo imagines

6K notes · View notes

spoiledcarmen · 11 days ago

Text

Crimson Moon

Pair: Batfamily x neglected!reader

tags: Child n3glect, Angst/No comfort, Hurt/No comfort, teens doing drgs, maladaptive dreaming, dead dove: do not eat, does this count as dddne??, MC is biological daughter of Bruce Wayne, No use of Y/N, Gotham Academy, made up characters, OOC canon characters.

summary: Basically the Wayne/Bat family but reader is Bruce Wayne’s daughter who doesn’t know they’re all vigilantes and they sorta neglect her since she’s not very important in their lives.

chapter: The Beginning Of Our End. (1/?)

authors note: This was my first work, i started uploading fics on Tumblr a few weeks ago, im doing so well!! this is also my most popular fic on ao3, so i hope Tumblr likes it as well!

PT.1 - (you can read the rest of the parts on ao3 while i publish the rest on here.)

14 years ago, Bruce had made a decision he would come to regret. on valentine’s day him and unknown woman appeared to be lingering around each other at a club. he would soon make an irrotational choice. with him chugging one drink after another that she kept bringing over to him and his table, his standards have dropped low enough for him to ask for something else, maybe something to eat. she said “it’ll cost ya.” in a hefty Gotham accent. he laughed and replied drunkenly and sloppy “oh really?”, her sensing she could make bank off of this obviously wasted billionaire, she played sultry. he gave her a stack of hundreds, its only natural that’s all he carries? after that, off to a room they went.

forward to November 14th you were born. 3 days later you were in a basket with a blanket over you with a note that stated your name with his last name, and date of birth. in messy handwriting at the bottom left corner it said, “your daughter.” as Alfred opened the door and saw you, he immediately brought you in inside before he read the note, and once he did he urgently called over Bruce, not wanting to alert the others. Bruce’s immediate reaction to reading the note was “shit… well i don’t doubt she’s mine. i remember that night like he was yesterday.” he rubs his forehead as a sign of stress and in deep thought. however once his gaze dropped down to you, peacefully sleeping in the warm environment of the manor, he knew he couldn’t help but take you in.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

when people thought of “Wayne”, they thought class, elegance, and power. and apparently you were exactly that, Since the moment you were born everyone thought of you as this radiating light of eternal beauty, a symbol of hope. whereas your father thought of it as a fresh start. Bruce has obviously fucked up with all of his other kids, so why not just do the opposite with this one? no becoming robin, no training, not being dragged into the whole vigilante world. just a normal kid. being Bruce’s biological kid had a lot of perks, like his last name and just a lot of money in general. the last name ‘Wayne’ itself, brought you a lot of social power. you liked it, it gave you what you didn’t have at home. Attention. something you severely lacked. the fact that nobody noticed with you being in front of a camera all the time is crazy, from the difficulty of staying on a simple task to unintentionally interrupting conversations to being easily distracted.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

which now brings you to the present. always wondering where everyone went at night, always wondering why nobody wanted to sit around by you, always wondering why everyone was careful around you, always wondering why.. not even your father gives you attention, why would your family? you’re not special. you’ve never been special. other than being somewhat pretty enough to put you on the cover of a beauty magazine and not a news paper,smart enough to get above passing, but you’re not very special. in your room in bed, late at night, you always hear chatter. you seem to think there’s a party you haven’t been invited to which is nearly impossible, who wouldn’t want you around? but every time you go downstairs, no one is there, was it your imagination?

no it can’t be.. you can still clearly hear them. you can hear Damian making another snarky comment, Richard laughing with Babs, you can almost hear Jason shuffling around the room with Alfred asking if anyone needed anything. so where could they be? hiding? from you? not impossible. but how could they be hiding but their voices being this clear? after a while of looking you decide to just go back to bed, maybe you’re just tired from today, even if you didn’t really do much.. you get back into bed, yet you can’t shake off this feeling, it feels like a hole in your stomach, feeling like you’re missing out on something. nevertheless you decide to just swallow the feeling and push it down to try and sleep for school tomorrow.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you wake up but your vision is very blurry, hazy, weak. you try to rub it out of your eyesight but it doesn’t work, the harder you rub the darker your vision becomes, soon enough it’s pitch black. you open your eyes to see a large moon, with crimson red around the edges, ‘crimson… moon?..’ you think, your eyes are fixated on it. you can’t seem to move. you look down and see a hand reaching out to you, it’s luring you to grab it, to reach back to it, to hold it. you want to but you simply cannot move. you look back up at the moon, it’s craters seem to be eyes staring back at you, yet they don’t blink, they cannot blink, you cannot blink, however you still try, you know you can’t do it regardless you still try. and you succeed, you blink.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you truly awaken from your nightmare and wake up out of breath. like you just ran a marathon, you rush to the bathroom and go and wash your face, you watch yourself in the mirror, making sure that you are still you. everything checks out and you continue with your morning routine, shower, brush your teeth, skincare, makeup. by the time you’ve finished your routine you’re already late to breakfast, you rush to get your uniform on, you take one last look in the mirror at yourself and see your uniform that says “Gotham Academy” on its stupid logo. you sigh, having to dread putting it on everyday.

you rush downstairs to see only Alfred, “Where’s Damian? doesn’t he have school too?” you say sarcastically, Damian gets to skip if he’s feeling tired or just bored of school, but apparently you can’t. Alfred replies “Master Damian is a bit under the weather, excuse him from breakfast this morning.” you’ll excuse him, you always will. you ask your final question of the day, “And where’s father? and the others?”, Alfred sighs and replies “Master Bruce has already left for work, as for the others, i’m pretty sure a few of them are sleeping in. ‘Checks out.’ you think, you nod and take your sandwich to go, rather to eat it on the car ride there. the car ride to school was awfully quiet, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your sandwich wrapper, not even the radio was turned on, you’ve forgotten your headphones so what a joy this car ride has been. shortly after, Alfred announces you’ve arrived, you get out of the car and throw the sandwich wrapper in a nearby bin as you wave him goodbye, you watch him drive off and heavily sigh.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

your entire demeanor changes as soon as Alfred drives off, after all you’ve got an image to maintain. you’re all sunshine and rainbows as you walk up to your group of friends, all of them as happy as you are, they greet you one by one. after a while of chitchatting about nothing really important, the bell rings, everyone whines about having to go to class, “Well, we do still have lunch and that party after school?” you reassure them. “are you sure you’re coming? last time you cancelled last minute.” one says and another nods. you furrow your eyebrows and try not to roll your eyes, “i’m sure. i won’t cancel this time.” you say, none of them know you had to leave because you were just overwhelmed by the peer pressure of vaping or whatever is cool now.

you and another one of your friends, Heather, decide to stop wasting time and go to class, Heather asks “Where’s your brother?” you take a deep breath, not even wanting to utter his name, “Damian’s sick.”, She replies “Oh really? i was hoping i’d see him today.” she seems rather bummed out hes not here. You raise an eyebrow and decide to press for more, “huh.. why’s that?”, you’re pretty sure she likes him, but you don’t wanna get the wrong impression. “i wanted to talk to him about something..” she says with a slight smile on your face, you swear you could see her blush. “about what? i’ll tell him when i get home.” you smirk at her as you both walk into class, “oh nothing! i’ll just tell him tomorrow.” she rushes to her seat, you try to keep up with her.

you take off your backpack and get out your pencil case and notebooks as you remind her, “you know tomorrow is Saturday? right?”, she laughs it off nervously and spits out “yeah totally! just slipped my mind!”, you side eye her and think ‘who does she think she’s fooling?’ however you brush it off and go on with your day. the rest of this class was pretty tame, you muted out whatever the teacher was saying and just thought about your dream, you were debating on telling Heather but she was one of those freaks who thought every dream had a meaning, and if you did ask her she could just make you more nervous about it. you awaken from your trance and see the board covered in writing from top to bottom, you stare at Heather wondering why she didn’t tell you. you immediately pick up a pencil and start writing.

as soon as you finish writing the bell rings once more, you instantly pack up your things and rush out of there, a few people try to talk to you however you were too fast. you go to the locker you didn’t have a chance to go to in the morning and take put some books in and take some out, you check what class you have next and it’s biology. You and Heather basically have the same schedule so you tap her on the shoulder, “Wanna skip the rest of the day?” you ask nonchalantly, “Sure, but how’ll we get out of here?” she replies as she closes her locker door, “don’t worry, i’ve got an idea.” you smile as you grab her hand and run out to the courtyard, “and what now? we’re surrounded by concrete.” she says snarkily. “just wait! we have to go to the classroom that’s on the left and just sneak out the window. it’s empty, nobody has computer until forth period.” you hold her hand tighter as you run to the classroom together. “we have to be fast before someone sees us!” you say, she replies as she scoffs “no shit Sherlock..”

you enter the classroom and make her hold your bookbag as you struggle to get out through the window, nevertheless you do it. “see! come on!” you take your bag and her bag as you encourage her to come towards you. “you Wayne’s are amazing. it almost makes up for the fact you don’t give anyone attention.” she says with a laugh as she goes through the window. you scoff when you get referred to as a Wayne, you are one but.. you don’t like to get mixed up with them, you’re a different category of Wayne, you enjoy the spotlight, much more forced into it.. yet you brush it off and say, “well.. i certainly give people attention. i don’t know about the others.”

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you both walk the streets of Gotham with your backpacks on your back and strange looks on you, Heather says “why is everyone looking at us weird..”, “because we’re supposed to be in school, genius.” you snap back. “Oh! Oh! we should go explore!” she says enthusiastically as she points to Arkham Asylum. you stare at it as you wonder how it’s a miracle no kids have been snatched from the school and taken there yet, or maybe they have and you just don’t know about it. nevertheless you reply to her and scold her, “No! what the actual fuck are you thinking! no way in hell im going in there or letting you go in there!”, “you’re so lame..” she says as she walks past the asylum with pouted lips, you roll your eyes and say “i’d rather be lame and alive than cool and dead.”

you see she’s pretty upset about being scolded so you suggest you both go get some food and ice cream to pass the time. her mood instantly gets better as she grabs your hand and rushes to the nearest fast food place, “okay okay!” you say as you try to keep up with her running. once you get there she says “you’ll pay obviously.” you roll your eyes playfully and agree. the place is pretty empty since everyone is either at school or work, you both get to the cashier and the cashier says, “aren’t you girls supposed to be in school?”, Heather stares at you and raises her eyebrow at you, which basically means ‘say something!’ you look back at the cashier and say “do you want or business or not. if so we’ll both have a small chicken sandwich with fries and diet coke.”, the cashier nods reasonably and takes your order and hands you the card reader, you pay and Heather hugs you by your shoulder. “alright get off now.”, you tell her off as you aren’t a very affectionate person.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

she sits down at a table while you wait to get your food, the place is empty, why on earth are they taking so long?… after a while of waiting you finally get your food and go to your table. Heather immediately takes her food before you even set the tray down, you just roll your eyes and sit down to enjoy your food. “are you seriously going to the party later?” she says with her mouth full of food, you raise an eyebrow and say hesitantly, “of course i am, why are you asking?”, she shrugs and replies “ehhh.. i haven’t seen you go to a party in a while”, you laugh and reassure her once again “dont worry. i’m going and i’m going to be one hell of a party animal.”

231 notes · View notes

rkvriki · 2 years ago

Text

PAIRING ! ceo!jay x trophy wife!reader

SYNOPSIS ! A lavish lifestyle, the perfect rich husband, a full walk-in closet, expensive jewlery, expensive car, luxurious vacations... You had it all. Or at least everyone thought so. There was one thing missing for you and only your husband could give it to you. Was he gonna give it to you that easily?

WARNINGS ! SMUT! afab reader; jay praises reader; kind of dumbification of reader?? but not really; jay is a tease and kind of edges her; oral (f receiving); p in v; porn with unnecessary plot; handjob, reader calls herself a slut jokingly in the very end; jay smacks her ass once; this will be awkward get ready ! lmk if im missing any warning

word count: 4.3k

When you married Jay you knew what you were getting yourself into. Even when you guys were only dating, the tabloids’ front pages were already filled with pictures of you two in any situation they could catch you in. It was expected, of course. Who would ignore the fact that the daughter of one of the biggest CEOs of the country is now married to the young rich CEO who took over his father’s positions in one of the biggest companies out there? Everyone who looked close enough could tell you were both head over heels for one another, but that wasn’t enough to stop people from calling your marriage a mere deal or arrangement. Those headlines made you gag when you looked at them.

You couldn’t care less about them but something about people actually believing that made you get a sour feeling in your stomach. You were used to being a hot topic in magazines and whatnot. People always found a chance to make you a target of criticism, maybe out of envy, you wouldn’t know and never tried to do so. Ever since you were young you were taught the art of not giving a fuck mostly by your mother who knew you would deal with this kind of thing in your adult life.

Now ever since you got married people thought you were living the perfect life. I mean, you had everything you wanted in the palm of your hand, who wouldn’t want that? You spent almost all of your days at home, never needing to raise a single finger since you had a housemaid to do everything for you. But was it all that good? No one can imagine how boring that can get. It got to the point where you have asked, no, begged the maid to help her out just for the sake of doing something. And poor woman told you to do something simple because you don’t even know how to work with the laundry machine since you were never requested to do any house chores.

You gave up on trying to do anything, accepting that there would be days when you really had nothing to do. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. Or kind of one of those days. There was one thing you knew that could satisfy your craving for the day but said thing was not home at the moment. So you got up and went inside your closet looking for one specific thing. Browsing through one of your multiple drawers you finally felt the fine rich lace. Pulling it out, you stared at the beautiful two pieces of black lace lingerie that Jay had bought but you’ve never worn before. You quickly got ready, being extra careful with your appearance, and made your way out of the house, driving straight to your husband’s company building.

The sound of your heels clacking was the only thing heard in the big building’s hallway alongside the whispers of, mostly, female workers around you. The quiet voices were something you learned to ignore over time. Not that they were worth being heard anyway, being nothing more than jealous comments coming from women who envied you just for the simple fact you dated their hot boss. You were very much used to hearing Jay’s employees call you trophy wife, which wasn’t exactly a lie if you were being honest.

You were a stay-at-home wife, who spent her time relaxing at home or shopping, so cliché right? It’s just the lifestyle that was given to you by your husband. You had a college degree but Jay insisted that you didn’t need to work since he had more than enough to provide you with a comfortable lifestyle and who were you to deny him that? Everyone told you you were being ungrateful for wasting your precious superior education years but you knew damn well if they were given the same opportunity they would take it.

You’ve always been privileged since you were little, being born into a family of old money who had always been involved with multiple big companies, which brought you to meet Jay. You were invited to a party that one of your father’s associates hosted and everyone who owned big businesses like his’ was there. Later that night, at the after party when your parents were already home, you met Jay. You would love to say you weren’t expecting it, but you spent the whole evening eyeing him, trying to get his attention, because no, just having a pair of perky tits and round ass wasn’t enough to get a man like Jay. You knew the moment you saw him silently reject other women that you would need to work hard for his attention, and it worked out just fine for you. Needless to say, the night went to your accord and somehow it ended up with you two getting married two years later.

You looked in the direction of the people whispering, seeing the two workers who were always running their mouths about you when you were present in the building. You simply looked at them with nothing but disgust in your eyes and kept making your way to the big tinted door. You don’t even bother to knock as you make your way inside Jay’s office. He looks up from his computer, making eye contact with you, seeing you smiling and all pretty for him. “Didn’t expect you to come here, baby.” Jays said as he smiled at you, motioning for you to come closer. You walked up to his side, towering over him as you gave him a tight hug. “I missed you and there was nothing to do so I came to see you.” You told him with a pout, making Jay laugh at your behaviour.

“It’s not funny, Jay! You’ve been so busy lately, we barely spend any time together.” You said with a huff, crossing your arms while avoiding looking at him. “Baby, I already told you that we’ve been dealing with this very important client and I can’t just drop this.” He said with a sigh. “I understand you feel upset and I’m not trying to discard your feelings but I also need you to understand that this is a big thing for the company, yeah?” You held back a sigh, trying not to sound too upset. “I know that, but you barely pay any attention to me when you’re home.”

Many were the nights where you waited patiently for Jay to arrive in bed, seeing the clock hit 11pm and not seeing any signs of him coming anytime soon and before you could help it you would fall asleep curled to his side of the bed. There was only one time when you were able to stay up until he came, sitting all dolled up pretty while you waited for him in your most expensive silk nightgown. Jay didn’t seem to get the hint of you needing and craving his attention, because he simply kissed you goodnight before making his way to the bathroom to get ready to sleep. You decided that you were gonna give him the silent treatment, but you couldn’t ignore someone who wasn’t even in the house. You stopped trying to wait for him, you were only wasting your efforts so you just waited for this dry spell to be over. It’s not like you only missed Jay for sex, but you were a healthy woman with needs and your ovaries were screaming at you.

“You know I don't mean to do that, baby.” Jay said as he got up, making you turn your back to him. You knew your sulking was being unreasonable but if you didn’t exaggerate in your reactions Jay wouldn’t do anything about this. “Y/n, please look at me, princess.” your husband said, grabbing your arms to turn you around. You faced him, looking up at him with the best puppy eyes you could pull. Jay brought his hand up to brush your cheek, making you lean into his touch. “You know I love more than anything in this world, don’t you?” He asked as he held your face, making you look at him in the eyes. You nodded at him, your eyes drifting from his eyes to his pouty lips you adored and missed so much. He seemed to get the hint and sat back in his chair, patting his lap, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you got comfortable in his lap. Jay leaned forward, capturing your lips for a passionate kiss. You kissed him back eagerly, trying to get as close as possible to him. His pillowy lips fitted perfectly with yours and you felt like you were getting on cloud nine. His tongue licked at your lips, indulging them to open up, making you do so. His tongue danced around with yours, not trying to fight for dominance with yours. You moaned in his mouth as he sucked on your tongue, making you clench your thighs together. You pulled away from the kiss, feeling your cheeks grow hotter and hotter with each second passing by.

“Jay…” You said, your voice merely above a whisper. “Yeah, baby?” He leaned his forehead into yours, making you close your eyes shut. “Need you so bad, Jay. Please.” You whined against him, your ass slightly grinding against his crotch. Jay laughed at your answer, almost feeling bad for what he was about to do. “Yeah? Tell me what you need me to do. Use your big girl words.” He said with a smirk, his lips brushing against yours, making your craving for him grow even more. “Need your cock, Jay. Need you to fuck me so hard. Please…” You buried your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed by your own neediness. “Such a good girl using your words, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked not actually looking for an answer but you nodded anyway. “That’s right, baby.” He started. “It’s a shame I need to leave for a meeting now, isn’t it? But big girls like you can wait, don’t they?”

Your eyes widened at his words. Your hands went to his shoulders, grabbing his suit jacket in desperation.“No, no! Please, Jay. Don’t do this, please.” You begged, making Jay chuckle. “Look at you. Going dumb for my cock.” He said grabbing your chin with his soft hand. “I thought better than that didn’t I? If you don’t behave you might not even get anything tonight, get it?” You felt tears of frustration prickling in your eyes, but you blinked them away as you nodded at him. “Use your words.” He demanded, grabbing your face harder. “Yes, I understand.” You answered, feeling pathetic for how you felt yourself getting even more wet. “Good.” He said releasing your face. “Now, go home and wait for me. And don’t you dare touch yourself until I get back tonight.” And with that he walked away towards the meeting room, leaving you alone in his office with all your efforts of looking good going to waste.

You felt like you would burst with how desperate and needy you were. Jay had sent you home more than 3 hours ago and he still hadn’t come back. If this was some stupid test where he was trying to test your patience, well, it can end right here right now, because you had none, at least at the moment. You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling your panties uncomfortably stick to your core. You tried to distract yourself with anything you could. You scrolled endlessly through your phone and even spent a good amount of time and money in online shopping just for the heck of it. You sighed for the nth time that evening as you closed your eyes trying to think of something that wasn’t your husband or his dick inside you.

You looked at the clock on your nightstand seeing it was way past 6pm and just as you were about to get up from bed, you heard the front door slam open. Your face quickly stretched with a smile as you looked at the door waiting for Jay to make his entrance. You heard his footsteps getting close, making you bite your lip with anticipation. The door finally opened revealing your husband loosening his tie, his eyes sharp and dark with what could only be lust. He walked to stand at the foot of the bed, admiring you, still wearing the outfit from earlier, your thighs pressed together.

Jay’s knees dipped the mattress as he got up on the bed, towering over you, making you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours. His hands grabbed both of your knees, pulling your legs apart so he could lean down to your height. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine before spreading kisses all over the skin there. You closed your eyes with a moan as he sucked that one spot that made you weak, sucking on the area before soothing it with his tongue. He pulled back looking at you in the eyes. “Poor baby.” He said caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Waited so patiently for me, didn’t you, pretty?” You nodded your head at him as a whine escaped your pouty lips. “Think you deserve a reward, no?” He asked rolling his sleeves up his forearms. “Yes! Yes, Jay. I waited for so long. Deserve it so bad, please.” You said as you felt your eyes tear up from the relief of finally getting what you’ve been waiting for. “That’s right, baby. Been so cruel to you, haven’t I? Making you wait like that.” His face leaned closer to yours, your noses brushing against each other before Jay crashed his lips against yours in a needy kiss.

The sound of your lips smacking filled the room. Your teeth clashed against each other, but nothing mattered right now. Jay’s hands roamed up from your thighs until they reached the hem of your top, pulling it off of you easily, revealing your lacy bra. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. “You’ve been wearing this the whole day?” He asked making you nod at him. “Wore it just for you, Jay.” You said in a whiny tone. “Yeah? It’s a shame it’s coming off later. Or should we keep it?” He didn’t allow you to answer as he captured your lips in another kiss, biting your lower lip, making you let out a low moan.

The air in the room seemed to be getting hotter, the sound of your breathy moans started getting louder the needier you both got. Jay laid you down on the bed, settling himself in between your legs. His hands circled your hips, searching for the zip of your skirt. He got up to pull off your skirt leaving you in your lacy set. He licked his lips as he looked you up and down, his eyes stopping at the dark spot in your panties. You closed your thighs shut, suddenly feeling shy. He chuckled at you as he opened them back, sliding down on the bed, his face now eye level with your cunt.

He started kissing on your inner thighs, whiney moans leaving your parted lips as you laced your fingers in his hair trying to lead his head to the place you needed him the most. “Be patient, baby.” He said in a soft voice but it felt like a warning. You gasped when you felt his nose nudge against your clothed clit. “Please, Jay. Need it so bad, can’t take it anymore.” Jay let out a hum at that. “Need what, pretty? Need you to be more specific.” You held back a frustrated groan. “Need your tongue, please.” Jay seemed pleased with your words as he pulled your panties down, revealing your glistening pussy. He let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes and inhaled your sweet scent. You felt your heart thump in your chest as you felt his hot breath get closer to your heat.

His tongue made contact with your clit in an experimental flick, your thighs wanting to close around his head as you let out a soft moan at the small contact. His lips engulfed your nub, sucking on your bunch of nerves as you pull his hair harder. Jay closes his eyes as he focuses on pleasuring you, giving you what you earned. His mouth moves south as his tongue teases your entrance, your sweet taste hitting his taste buds making him moan lowly, the vibrations causing you to squirm against him. He moved his tongue further, getting inside your warm cunt as his nose bumped against your clit, stimulating it. Your brain going numb from the pleasure you missed so much, your moans getting louder the further his tongue got inside of you. Jay twisted and turned his tongue in your insides, at this point doing it for his own pleasure as he rutted his hips against the mattress.

“Please, Jay. Need your fingers, fuck!” You begged him as you looked down to where his mouth met your cunt, making you moan at the sight. He didn’t speak a word as he obliged to your request. He pulled his mouth off of you and before you could complain, his two fingers replaced his tongue, entering you with ease. You let out a silent moan as his lips made their way back to your clit as his fingers kept thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He was hitting all of your favourite spots, making you see starts. You started to feel the familiar knot form in your stomach, your thighs clenching around his head as you grinded against his face, smothering him with your essence.

“Fuck, Jay. I’m so close!” You were panting at this point, holding his face in the spot, afraid you would lose the sweet pleasure you were feeling. Jay’s fingers didn’t falter and you felt yourself getting closer and closer, squelching sounds filled the room along with your rapid breathing. Suddenly his fingers hit the spongy spot inside you, making you let out a silent scream as you let yourself get the sweet release you craved so much. “F-Fuck Jay. Oh my god!” You said as he pulled away from your pussy, but kept his fingers going inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He leaned down, kissing your lips and swallowing your moans. You whined in overstimulation, pulling his fingers out of you. “Thank you, Jay.” You said smiling at him, making him laugh at you as he rested his forehead on yours. “You deserve it, baby.” He said as he lovingly pecked your forehead.

You got up on your knees in front of him as you started pawing at his belt, trying to undo it. “Wanna suck you off.” You said, batting your eyelashes up at him. “No need to do that now, princess.” He said removing your hands from him and undoing his pants himself. You pouted your lips at his rejection. “Please, Jay! I really wanna do it!” You whined against him. He closes his eyes, letting out a breathy shake. “Y/n, if I don’t fuck you right now I’m gonna bust in my pants, so shut up and just let me fuck your pussy, yeah?” Words got stuck in your throat at his words, eyes watching his every move as he removed all of his clothes, now standing in all his naked glory.

Your eyes roamed from his sculpted face, down to his abs and when they were reaching his crotch, his hand held your chin, making you look up at his smirking face. “Eyes up here, doll.” You blushed, smiling up at him making him mirror your expression. Jay leaned down and connected your lips with yours while slowly lying you back down again. He hovered over you, his cock bushing against your core just slightly but it still makes you shudder when you feel it.

You tried to sit up to remove your bra but Jay stopped you. “Jay- My bra!” You whined. “Keep it.” He said sternly and you obviously weren’t gonna deny him that. His lips went back to yours, kissing you passionately. One of your hands travelled down his chest until it reached his member. You wrapped your warm hand around him, making him hiss in your mouth. You gathered some pre-cum that leaked from the tip to aid you when you started stroking him. Your hand felt delicious around him. It squeezed and twisted in all right places, making him buck his hips in your fist. Jay took your hand off of him and went to reach his nightstand where he kept his condoms, but your hand stopped him. “Fuck me raw, Jay. Please.”

Maybe it was the way there was a slight whine or maybe it was the way your eyes looked up at him, but somehow, Jay found himself agreeing with his wife. “Fuck, ok.” Jay grabbed the base of his cock and aligned it with your entrance, not wasting any time to thrust unto you. The raw feeling of your walls wasn’t foreign to him, but it had been a while and he felt like he could bust a nut right there and then. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling every vein and bump of his dick as you moaned loudly.

Jay stayed still for a while before pulling back until only his tip was inside before thrusting back in. Your eyes opened wide as you felt him hit seep inside you as he started fucking you at a fast pace. Your hands desperately scratched his back, in need of something to hold on to. Your moans along with his sounded like a melody to you. The sound of skin slapping and the lewd sounds coming from your wet pussy filled the room. The feeling of his tip almost hitting your cervix was becoming almost overwhelming to you and your moans were coming out almost silent from the immense pleasure. Both of your bodies were now covered in a sheen layer of sweat, making your husband glow under the warm light of your bedroom.

His body was gliding against yours just perfectly, intensifying your feelings. He propped himself on his elbows, now closer to you, making your nipples rub against his. Your moans were getting louder as his fat tip started hitting the spongy spot. “Need more. More, please, Jay!” You begged, taking all of your energy to voice out your request. Jay chuckled at you. “I’m already fucking you this hard and you still need more, huh?” He said making you whine. Suddenly he stopped, making you whine. He sat up on his knees as he grabbed your hips and turned you around, putting you with your ass up.

Your face was buried in your pillow as he rubbed his tip against your slit, making you moan as you squirmed your hips against his cock. He rubbed your butt as he inserted himself back into you, reaching deeper than before. You let out a scream you felt his hand smack against your ass cheek as he thrusts into you furiously. He groaned as he threw his head back when your cunt clenched around him, almost getting him stuck inside you. His hips were pistoning into you at a steady pace, going at the perfect rhythm. Your mouth was agap and drool was pooling on the side of your mouth. “Look at you. Dumb for some cock.” He scoffed, but his voice was shaky showing you he was just as fucked out as you. You whined into the pillow, hiding your face.

“Jay!” You screamed, “I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop!” His dick twitched when you raised your head to look back at him. Your face was flushed, eyes droopy, mouth parted as nothing but moans came out of it, completely fucked out to even think properly. His thrusts started getting slightly sloppy, but he tried his best to keep up. Your moans were staccato to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your chest started heaving up and down in fast breaths. “J-Jay, M’gonna cum! I’m gonna-” You were interrupted by your climax. spilling all over your thighs and his too. “Fuck!” Was the last thing Jay said before thick ribbons of his cum started filling you up as he stayed still inside of you, making you moan at the warm feeling.

Jay was leaning in your back, breathing against your ear. Both of you too gone to even speak. After you both came down from your highs, Jay slowly pulled out from you, making you whine. He stared at your pussy, watching as his cum mixed with his spilled out from you. You collapsed on the bed, breath still a bit uneven, with your eyes closed as you started feeling sleepy. Jay lays beside you with a thump, making you open your eyes to look at him. You both stared at each other before you both started laughing. Jay pulled you into his chest, embracing you, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

You heard him take a deep breath before he spoke. “I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. I never intended to do it, I promise I’ll try harder to be home earlier.” His words made you look up from his chest. “Jay, you haven’t been neglecting me. At all. I understand that you are going through something important at work, I just missed you, it’s all!” You said caressing his cheeks with your thumb. “And besides, you should know you were marrying a slut when you signed that paper.” You said, making both of you laugh. “You’re no such thing, baby.” He said laughing. “Yeah, whatever. Can we take a shower now? Your cum is drying inside of me.” “Whatever the lady wants!”

3K notes · View notes

familyagrestefanblog · 3 months ago

Text

Ladybug's Lucky Charms in Werepapas

Let's talk about another detail that people kinda REALLY wanna ignore about Marinette's decision in the Werepapas akuma battle. It's the fact that she hand-waves away FIVE Lucky Charms until she finally goes with the sixth:

No, that is NOT irrelevant. Marinette is not supposed to disregard her Lucky Charms left and right because they're trying to tell her what she's supposed to do. That's Lucky Charm 101 in an akuma battle.

I'm not gonna pretend like I know for 100% certainty what they all tried to tell her, but

1) a couple of them can be easily interpreted in very relevant ways.

And 2) I don't NEED to know what exactly they all mean because it doesn't need to be PROVEN that Marinette isn't supposed to cherry-pick her Lucky Charms. We've known since s1 how this works and it's still done like this in s6. Thanks to not being limited anymore to 1 Lucky Charm, she gained the luxury of sometimes just getting to summon one for the purpose of whooping ass instead of solving the actual situation - which is still a lucky charm's REAL purpose - but that doesn't change the fact that you're supposed to listen to the Lucky Charm, not the Lucky Charm to you!

Under special circumstances like a final battle, sure, use additional ones to whoop ass. But you can't just switch out the problem solving Charm with a purely ass whooping one which is what Marinette did here in "Werepapas". It's fine when you do that in an extremely dire situation, but a normal akuma battle is no dire situation. Especially not when the only real stakes there are is being reckless with Adrien's amoks!

She's supposed to use whatever she gets and that'll lead her to the right solution. Not going through a whole line of Lucky Charms until she gets one where she finally likes the first thought she gets from it because of how little it challenges her self-preservation (makes you wonder if having unlimited Lucky Charms now isnt the worst thing that ever happened to her. Now she can just ignore whole Lucky Charms until she finally gets one that tells her something closer to what she wants to hear instead of listening to the CHARM)

Let's take a look at her 6 Lucky Charms:

From my recollection (so correct me if I'm wrong), while the teapot sometimes shows up here and there as filler Charms it was firmly established and used several times as a visual cue for Marinette to go to Master Fu.

Obviously, she can't do that anymore, but she has Alya as co-guardian, Luka who was trained by Su-Han, and even Su-Han himself as Celestial Guardian who now does whatever she wants.

In a situation where Adrien's amoks are the akuma object, it's a pretty logical thing to happen that her first Lucky Charm tells her to get Guaridan-related help. She has the option, all the needed support, and all the resources, but doesn't use it because it wouldn't be nice having to face the baggage that could come with it.

And even if you wanna say "She didn't get help because she didn't wanted the new Butterfly to possibly find out that Adrien is a Sentibeing!" Then that excuse still falls flat because obviously Adrien's LIFE is supposed to be more important than preventing that secret from coming out. The secret has no value if Adrien is DEAD.

Afterwards she gets a fan and this obviously could VERY likely mean that she's supposed to get Felix involved because he's the Miraculous holder of the Peacock. And by "VERY likely" I mean "I doubt there is a likely chance that it ISNT a hint to get Felix".

I won't even elaborate on this further. Her second Lucky Charm tried telling her to get Felix when Adrien's amoks were on the line and she ignored it. It is what it is.

For the third and fifth ones, I personally don't know what they could mean because I already struggle recognizing what exactly they are supposed to be. Though, they do have recognizable shapes. I bet other people could look at them and know where they've seen these objects before in the show.

Then right between these two, the fourth Charm Marinette summons is an unicycle (that for some reason isn't polkadotted, but screw it)

An unicycle like she summoned back in season 2 "Sabotis", the episode in which Alya became Rena Rouge for the first time. Meaning this one pointed to getting Rena's help.

For me, this is one of the most interesting ones regarding Marinette's feelings of not wanting to face the Lucky Charm's solution to instead protect all her secrets. But if anything, I would want to give it its own post and not half-ass it here. Cause there are a lot of layers to this one.

And, of course, the last one: the scarf. It's alongside the fan the one for which the fandom does casually acknowledge the symbolism of it being a call back to 1x01 "The Bubbler" where Marinette now infamously made the decision to let Adrien believe that it was his father who made the scarf for him - and not her - because of how happy it made Adrien that his father finally "cared":

I don't think I need to explain why it makes sense that this is the one s6 Marinette cherry-picks to finally work with. The poor scarf has been made into the symbol of Marinette wanting to keep pretty much everything about Adrien's family a secret from him. Including him being a Sentibeing. I miss the good old days when we dreamed of the scarf being set-up to become the catalyst for Adrien to write off his father as a useless deadbeat who isnt worth his time and love.

So, unfortunately, of course this is the one she goes with now. Even if it means taking the risk to kill Adrien. Anything to keep the secrets save and lies unnoticed. How tf did we GET here?

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml werepapas #ml lucky charm #Marinette deserved better #Adrien deserves worlds better #ml theory #ml analysis #ml season 6

316 notes · View notes

kooki914 · 8 months ago

Text

Nobody asked and yet you're getting it anyway, my Dess interpretation! Tbf I love a lot of other people's Dess designs maybe more than my own based on complexity/symbology alone, but this is what my original take for her was so I'm sticking to it. Extremely long list of factoids for her under the cut!

Dess hasn't seen a hairbrush in 8 years.

Opening her first fountain was an accident, and so was entering the dark world, but it was something she desperately needed at that point. She was knighted by Spade King, before being dubbed the Roaring Knight by the general public after she opened the second fountain and people started (correctly) assuming she was trying to cause the apocalypse.

Dess is mtf trans! She was out since she was 9, and took puberty blockers for a while, but stopped after she disappeared because she, y'know, didn't have access to them anymore. Strangely, even though she's been off of them for so long, there's very few side effects. You can just see her Adam's apple sometimes and muscle mass started building for her easily, but that's it. She's silently grateful that her dad didn't pass down any beard-making genes.

The reason why it's been so mild is due in part because of the effect of being in the "void" for too long, aka the space so dark and isolated you can't even feel your own limbs. She was stuck in the code of the game, basically, and it's had adverse effects on her mentally and physically, the only positive effect being less testosterone production in her body.

The physical effects are odd. Though she's grown and her body's age is what it would've been if she never disappeared, she's still in the same clothes she was when she ran away, but they sized up with her. The black nail polish she had on is still there too, not even chipped. As previously mentioned, her hormones are out of whack but, somehow, she's still clearly a grown adult, as if she just went through a very, very mild puberty.

The mental effects of being stranded in the literal nothingness are as expected as they are odd. The standard effects of not having contact with another person for so long have, somehow, never taken hold. It's like the social part of her brain was just put on pause. However, part of the madness she DID get was her very much considering her memories might just be made up. As if she was always here and managed to, somehow, delude herself into thinking she had a life outside of this place, when she never did. Essentially, she stopped existing, but retained some level of consciousness.

The whole "not existing for a while" thing as well as the fact that she's pre-hrt trans means she absolutely hates mirrors. Give her a mirror and she'll give back about a hundred shards of it. When she was younger she usually just had dysphoria over looking too boyish (hence why she never cut her hair) but nowadays she has weird feelings about something as simple as Having Knees (the existential horror of having a body after being formless in the nothingness during your formative years).

Her journey as the Knight was mostly about rediscovering herself, trying to find purpose and trying to help the people around her. She spent her whole life feeling helpless, and wanted to destroy that feeling, for everyone. Her violent behavior was rewarded by the equally maladjusted Spade King, and they teamed up under the pretense of helping all of darkner kind.

Dess set out to cause the Roaring, per his instruction, without knowing what it even was. All she knew is that, apparently, she was the only one who could, and that gave her a sense of purpose. Once she learned it'd bring about the end of the world, she was so detached from the world that she carried on anyway, not concerned with the life that could be lost because, god, she spent so long outside it, how COULD she know what life was worth now?

Dess went by neutral pronouns (they/it) as the Knight because it was another mask she used to distance what she Knew of herself and what she Had to be (kind of like Asriel calling himself "Flowey" in Undertale, actually). Being called "her" was too familiarising and humanising, being called "he" made her break out into hives and start killing, so she stuck with the alternatives for utilitarian reasons. Somewhere along the way she got sick of it and started missing her feminine pronouns, but decided to just stick to the bit anyway. The world was gonna end soon anyhow, who cares?

Once she's out of the role of Knight and back in the light world, you bet your ass she's switching back to exclusively she/her. Fuck neutrality, this girl needs gender affirmative language.

Rediscovering music, and specifically playing and making music, was one of the things that helped Dess get back in touch with being a person again after the whole Knight debacle. She plays piano and harmonica of her own volition, and the violin because of her mom's insistence, but her true favourite will always be the guitar. She was a little small as a kid so playing it used to be difficult, but now that she's an adult having it in her lap is easy, and honestly it just makes her feel alive. One of those dreams she had as a kid that she forgot about along the way, y'know?

Her and Asriel were just family friends at first, but when they ended up going to the same class together too, they quickly became best friends. They were there for each other through everything, Dess got Asriel into games, he was there when she came out, and they were practically inseparable. Asriel was a hard worker and Dess was a super active sports kid, they balanced each other out well and were known as the highest achievers in their class, the golden kids.

Kris and Noelle got dragged into their adventures basically on accident, Noelle because Dess was the one babysitting her all the time, and Kris because they wanted to spend time with their brother. They often spent time outside together because Dess loved being anywhere but at home. She didn't mind Azzy's house, though. Kris was a lot to deal with sometimes and Dess scolded them in a lot of the same ways adults scolded her (minus the hitting them over the head with stuff, what was all her). She has no idea the impact she's had on their behavior.

She was always kind of violent, but when she was younger it wasn't really an issue, more like an excuse to get her into sports. She learned to act out because causing problems was the only context in which she'd get attention from her very busy parents. With Noelle specifically, Dess took on a semi-parental role and quickly developed a habit of taking on way more burdens than she could handle. Even with Asriel as a best friend and the Dreemurrs as a surrogate family, the control her mother Clarice commanded over her life was just too limiting. It all boiled over.

Dess started lashing out at other kids around when puberty hit, starting fights and genuinely hurting people. She never got expelled because her mother was the mayor, but Dess started getting grounded more and more often, which meant less and less time with her only real friend, and more with her very dysfunctional family. She loved Noelle, but her little sister became another responsibility, another liability that could get Dess in trouble, it was way too much for her to handle maturely when she was only 13.

Dess "disappeared" because she ran away from home. She hated living there, but neither of her parents could admit that, hence her disappearance being so "mysterious" to the other townsfolk, they genuinely thought she vanished from inside the house. It was only after Kris admitted they saw her in the woods near the bunker that night that the case got more complicated, and the legend only grew more terrifying.

Her original plan was to just catch a bus to out of town and hope for the best, but when she ran into the woods in pitch blackness, she couldn't find her way around. She was too reliant on light, and couldn't manage in darkness. She found the bunker in her aimless wandering and, hoping to sleep off the night and make up excuses in the morning, she went inside. She couldn't have known that nothing was in there.

The effects of her sudden disappearance rippled throughout the whole town. Most obviously, Asgore got fired for not being able to find her and Rudy quit his job to be a stay at home dad for Noelle's sake. Less tangibly, Asriel and Clarice both started burying themselves in work to avoid grief. Kris and Noelle socially shut down for a few years, it's why neither of them have any real friends other than the strained relationship they have with each other. Asriel took on Dess' habit of "be anywhere but home" when his parents started having marital problems, and Kris latched onto him even harder to avoid losing any more people in their life. Through all this, Dess was nowhere, silently wondering if anyone even noticed she's gone, if her life was even real to begin with.

One of the strange things that happened to her while stranded in nothingness was almost being able to hear someone mumbling to themselves. When she called out, the voice vanished, only to re-emerge an uncertain amount of time later and excuse himself for getting startled. He just doesn't get guests often, you see. And guests get him even more rarely. It was refreshing to hear a consciousness separate from her own, but his mind was even more broken than hers, unable to answer her questions about what was real and what was imagined as he seemed to think he himself was a product of unreality. Plus, he never really stayed for too long and he never wanted to talk about himself either, as if mentioning his own name could shatter him to pieces.

The reason Dess didn't lose her mind from to his influence like Jevil and Spamton did was because she's just fundamentally pragmatic. You can throw philosophy and existential questions at her all you want but as long as she talks and thinks, she exists, which means reality is Something, even if it's completely eluding her grasp. It might also have something to do with her being a (homestuck warning) Void player, meaning the idea of the innate meaninglessness of life and unanswerable questions about reality itself don't really sound earth-shattering to her.

She used her knife to open fountains at first, the one she brought with her from the light world, but along the way she picked up a rapier and decided it was way cooler than a knife so it's her go-to now. She's not actually that good with swords, though. She uses them like baseball bats. Despite this, Spade King still praises her as if she's the best warrior they've seen in generations. It might've gone to her head.

Her relationship with King is fundamentally a mentor and a student. He gave her flawed information, but taught her a lot about herself, the world she found herself in, and the role she could choose. And, that's the most important part, he let her CHOOSE, because he was genuinely under the impression that she was just a really powerful darkner and not a lightner. His strictness and high standards reminded her of her parents, mostly her mom, but his willingness to give HER control over her own destiny is what made her favour him over every other adult in her life. Discipline that treated her like a valued person rather than an asset was basically unheard of for her until then. Plus, reminding her of her parents gave Spade the bonus of every time he encouraged her on anything it'd activate the "parental approval" neurons in her brain that were terribly starved up to that point.

From Spade's point of view, the Knight (as a darkner) is everything he wants to be, but can't be. At first he mentored her mostly as an excuse to live vicariously through her, but in getting to know her better he discovered they have a lot more in common than he first thought. Unregulated emotions, unresolved pasts, the constant feeling that you need to do More and Louder in order to make any kind of impact... he started to genuinely care about her. If/when he's redeemed, finding out the Knight has been a lightner this whole time might not even be that much of a betrayal. Seeing her face and learning her name as she apologies for lying is like reconnecting with his own wounded, younger self. Letting it be water under the bridge means he doesn't lose connection to himself again, doesn't lose connection with his best student. Plus, December IS a nice name.

She met Lancer, but didn't pay him much mind. She was busy with overthrowing the other Kings and was too tired to be a babysitter again. Due to her rancid vibes as the Knight (and the fact that she quickly became the favoured child even though it wasn't her intention) Lancer doesn't like her that much. She left Card Kingdom pretty quickly, anyway (Spade's advice to seek another worthy kingdom to grant a fountain to), so she never got much of a chance to get to know him, even if she wanted to.

Her relationship with Queen is even more fraught. Due to Queen's tendency to mimic the "mother" personality for every lightner she meets individually, as well as her more Explicitly Controlling tendencies, Dess quickly became rebellious and then antagonistic towards her. Queen tried to choose FOR her, to get her to open fountains on HER terms, and Dess wasn't having it. Yes, following Queen's instructions would've caused the Roaring much, MUCH sooner, but, like. Not at ALL in a satisfying way.

She has no idea who Gaster is. When asked, she'll assume he's a Darkner. If asked about the man in the nothingness, she'll shrug it off. Now that she's out, she doesn't know if he's actually real or something she just made up in her head, though she laughs that off as well. "I sound a lot like him when saying that, huh?"

Learning Asriel goes to college is complete whiplash for her. Her sense of time is WRECKED. Like, yeah, she can wrap her head around Noelle and Kris being teens now, but ASRIEL??? What do you MEAN he's not still stressing over chemistry exams and cramming for spanish class, and is, like, actually studying something he's interested in???? Unheard of.

She makes fun of him SO much for his little beard stubble, dude. It's all in good fun, but like, you can only be called "mini Asgore" so many times by your childhood best friend before it starts to cut deeper. On the flipside he has literally nothing bad to say to her. She nearly caused the apocalypse, but like, he gets it. He would've done the same in her shoes (hooves??). He thinks her Dark World armour is so kickass and he could never pull it off like she can.

Unsurprisingly Asriel has a crush on Dess. He always kinda had one, even when they were kids, but reconnecting as adults just Fully bashed him over the head with the fact that he's had repressed feelings for her and he has NO idea what to do about it. He's anxiety incarnate and thinks Dess already KNOWS he has a crush on her and just isn't saying anything because she's playing it cool, or doesn't wanna hurt his feelings, or thinks he's too lame to date or something. He thinks she's the coolest person who ever lived and has no idea how to cope.

Meanwhile in reality, Dess is a clueless aro/ace. She doesn't really know what having a crush even means. She thinks being a couple is, like, flirting and fighting behind closed doors (you can tell the only couples she knew personally were her parents and Asriel's parents), so she thinks it's just exhausting and doesn't know why anyone bothers. When Noelle tells her she has a crush on Susie Dess is like "Hell yeah, love is love........ wait do you mean you like her or you want her to crush you with a boulder" and Noelle sweats for a while before replying with "b-both?"

Dess has never been to Castletown. Most likely will never go.

Her and Kris reconnecting is a bit awkward at first, mostly on account of the fact that Kris and their posse are the ones that had her bash her over the head as the Knight to get her to behave in the first place, but Dess doesn't really focus on that. Kris thinks they hurt her, she just thinks of them as a little hero. Susie kinda helps facilitate them talking like people again, at least at first, because she has no baggage with Dess other than hitting her with an ax over dark fountains and getting stabbed in return, but like... Out of all the people they fought Dess is the only one who actually said sorry for being a jackass, so it's all good in Susie's book. Kris is just happy to have Dess back, man, that bunker and their memory of it has been haunting them for entirely too long, now.

Like Kris and Asriel, Dess learned how to play piano in church. Unlike them, and unlike Noelle, Dess has actually become fully agnostic after her time in the void. If there IS an angel looking out for her, it certainly isn't one that could've helped her, so what's the point of worship? Plus, Asriel and Noelle are two angels looking out for her as is! Why add divinity to that? (I am extremely subtle, I know.)

To this day, she's still apologising to Asgore for getting him fired. He is still apologising for not being able to find her. It's a pity party.

No-one tell her parents but she smokes weed. Once she reformed from being the Knight, she had a lot on her mind, man, weed is the most harmless thing she could've taken to cope. Seam is a good dealer, they have the good stuff.

She's absolutely called King "dad" by accident before. He doesn't really mind. No-one tell Rudy though, he's gonna be pissed.

On that note, I feel the need to add that she was never as close to him as Noelle was, because he only really started being an active parent after Dess went missing. It's kinda tragic, and he feels REALLY guilty about it, but if he ever verbalises that guilt he's gonna actually crumble into dust. His confidence is all a mask as is, actually admitting that he was kind of garbage at being a dad with his first kid is just gonna make it so much worse. But, until Dess hears an apology, she's not really gonna be able to actually mend their relationship, so they're at an impasse.

Inversely, her time away from the light world kinda made Dess forget the way her mother acts. She sorta got a bit of "once away from the abuser you forget the abuse", especially knowing she herself was a kid when it all happened so she kinda started justifying her mother's actions to herself when away from her. After like 2 weeks of living with her again Dess fully remembers why she ran away and packs her bags to live literally anywhere else. Preferably with King if that's an option, though that might just make Lancer move out as well.

She doesn't know what minecraft is.

443 notes · View notes

blckbrrybasket · 4 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Lesbian (canon)

- Heavy metal is her favorite genre of music.

- Doesn’t have a hand towel in her bathroom. She shakes her hands to dry them and wipes them on her pants.

- Keeps her nails short and hates keeping them painted. She sees it as a waste of time since it chips so frequently.

- Has horrible long term memory but can remember the most random, specific memories or facts.

- Got hit by a motorcycle once and got into a fight with the driver.

- Would have had an emo phase when she was younger without knowing what being emo meant.

- Secretly not so secretly the biggest hater. Does gossip just in her own way of posing things as a fact.

- Hated any type of schooling with a burning passion. Did not do well with the structure it demanded and most likely did not do any schooling after the required amount.

- Snores so loud like a dad and will wake herself up with her own snoring at times.

- Ungodly high tolerance for alcohol…we all see how frequently she drinks.

- Also has an amazing spice tolerance and can eat basically anything. Human vaccum!

- Loves reptiles

- Hates clowns

- Tries to shower often and hates when she’s working for long days without being able to go home to clean.

- She has never done taxes

- When Sevika was younger if she caused something to go wrong she would flee the scene and let someone else take the blame. She isn’t above doing it now.

- Likes being alone. Give her a cigar and some whiskey and she’s set to be alone for the rest of her life. She’s had enough human interaction for one lifetime.

- Honestly bad at handling criticism and tries to rationalize everything she does in her head.

- Gets offended when people incorrectly assume things about her.

- She is completely oblivious to anyone liking her romantically or showing interest in her. She isn’t very conscious of being romantic so it goes over her head if she isn’t actively deciphering if someone is flirting.

SFW (serious)

- Hates hugs but will reluctantly give side hugs to someone very close to her.

- Sevika finds herself blaming Silco some nights and other nights she wants him to come back so she doesn’t have to deal with the chaos Zaun has fallen into.

- She has a love-hate relationship with her parents and ultimately wishes her childhood was better.

- Raised stray dogs on the streets as a kid because she thought of them like her.

- Has insane troubles trying to fall sleep.

- When she does eventually get to sleep she keeps a knife under her pillow. Do not wake her up unless you want to get hurt 😭

- Doesn’t verbally say i love you much. She prefers relationships where you both silently know how much you love each other.

- She can like physical touch at times and seek it out, but she doesn’t like it all the time. Sevika can love deeply, but she doesn’t do well with clingy people.

- She gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Though she doesn’t show it much on her face, it’s easy for her to feel suffocated by lots of things happening.

- She has to get used to cuddling and only cuddles with people she highly trusts where she doesn’t feel as if she is physically trapped.

- Would not be into toxic relationships. She hates situationships where she isn’t secure and/or doesn’t exactly know what she is with someone. Sevika needs something stable or she will not open up.

- Views her childhood self as a completely different person than herself. She mourns the kid who lost their happiness.

- Doesn’t fall in love easily because of the walls she has built up for years.

- Hates receiving help. Hates asking for it even more.

- Was called scrappy when younger and grew up to become ‘a scary lady’. When she’s able to settle down more she realizes how much she hates being stereotyped as this always angry and violent person.

- After becoming a councilor and being alone again years of pain came back. It took her a long time to work through all of it. She could be doing the most random thing and would burst into tears.

- When she hangs out around people she prefers to be in silence.

- Is hard of hearing after the amount of head trauma she has had. By the time she was in her late 50’s she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

- Works really hard to teach herself how to act in a committed relationship and expects the same from her partner.

NSFW

- Likes using her strap but prefers feeling you on her skin.

- Loves scissoring, but only does it on special occasions because hit makes her hips ache.

- Likes being bit (are we surprised?)

- Manhandler.

- Loves seeing you drip over her fingers, stretching you out is her favorite part because she always takes her time.

- Is a masochist, not so much a sadist. She sees enough people getting hurt every day by late season two she wouldn’t inflict pain on you in bed.

- Bush!!!! Loves bush, has a bush, wants a jungle.

- Prefers you dressed down. Never complains when you dress up but seeing you in every day clothes, her clothes, or pajamas is her favorite thing.

- It turns her on when you are at equal positions in your relationship instead of one being over the other, but doesn’t mind your subbing or domming more. switch sevika is real.

- PRAISES! Comes up compliments in bed that you didn’t even know she appreciated.

- Loves you dominating her. Giving up all the power she has to constantly hold it turns her brain to mush.

- Every time she is buried between your thighs she will massage them as she gives you head.

- Wears boy shorts underwear and briefs. Keeps them low cut to show her happy trail.

#sevika #sevika headcanon #sevika headcanons #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika arcane x reader #sevika imagine #arcane headcanon #arcane headcanons #arcane sevika #lesbian #headcanons

334 notes · View notes

arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months ago

Text

Two ships (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Warnings: Crybaby! Reader. Medieval punishment for children. Canon character death (Alyssa and Baelor) Sexual thoughts. Prostitution. Mature language. Incest. Fluff.

A/N: In which we explore the complicated dynamics of the sister wife. Requested. We also suscribe to @just-some-random-blogger doctrine about Daemon being a scary unhinged man but soft for the reader.

THE FIRST TIME your brother makes you cry is when you are eight years old. It is, of course, not the first time you tear up because of him. But there is a difference between tearing up because he tugged too hard on your braid, or because he cut your favorite doll’s hair and what he did to you that day.

You shall never forget the reason for your mother’s death, not for the rest of your life. It’s one of those core memories, a truth of the universe. You cannot forget fire burns, you cannot forget water is wet, and you cannot forget your mother is dead because of you. Even if you do not know when you learned those facts, they are still there. Tucked into your mind.

As a child, you used to be quiet. You barely cried, or demanded things of anyone. As the youngest and only girl of the household, you often felt like there was an unbreachable gap between you and your family. And so, you filled your days with your lessons, and behaved well, eager for praise and attention.

Your relationship with your brothers was complicated. Your father was often far away, busy with his important position, so Viserys felt more like a parent than a sibling. The age difference didn’t help things along. While you were still learning how to walk, his betrothal was already negotiated.

Daemon, while much closer in age, is much more distant too. He is mercurial, playing the cruelest tricks on you, but also defending you from other children. Just last week, he had dyed your beloved white dog green, but he had also punched a steward’s son for mocking your braids.

He can never decide if he hates you or loves you. And today, it’s one of the days he hates you. You can’t do anything right, it seems. As you break your fast, with Viserys cutting up your food for you, he calls you a baby. When the Septa comes to get you for your lessons, you are a suck-up. His bad mood escalates during the day, and when your father arrives for lunch and dares ruffle your hair, Daemon doesn't hesitate to call you a cocksucker whore.

For his offense, his mouth is washed with soap. It is not a punishment you have ever endured, because everyone knows ladies don’t get physical punishments, but it looks unpleasant. Whatever cocksucker whore means mustn't be very nice.

By the time his punishment is over, your father is long gone again. He has disappeared into his chambers, and Viserys has been left with the bitter task of reconciling you.

“You will apologize to our sister.” He orders Daemon. “Now.”

“NO!” Daemon shrieks, face blotchy from the humiliation of his mouth being washed with soap. He has not shed a single tear, which you find admirable despite yourself. The taste alone would make you gag, and that is without including the humiliation of a servant holding you while Viserys does the deed.

You feel awkward at the thought. Something doesn’t sit right with the thought of such a thing being a punishment, but you do not dare voice it. You simply sit in the chair Viserys has pulled for you and kick your feet. It soothes you slightly.

“Take it back, Daemon or so help me the Seven…”

��I will not take it back!” Daemon screams, pushing at Viserys. “She is a little whore! She has you all wrapped around her little finger, and now you will send me away…”

“Daemon.” Viserys grabs his wrists, in warning. With several years and a growth spurt on his side, he manages to subdue him easily. You worry that will not be the case for much longer. Daemon looks very different from your peaceful Viserys, shoulders broader, hands a bit bigger. In a few years, he will become a fearsome warrior, and Viserys will still be your bookish older brother.

“Why do I have to go squire for some stupid lord, anyway? We are the blood of the dragon! We do not need those fools.” At this new information, you frown. You clutch your doll more tightly. No one had informed you Daemon had to go squire away from Viserys and you.

“Fostering is important. It helps us form bonds with other houses.” Viserys explains, with the patience of someone who has had this argument already. You tug on your doll, feeling sadder by the minute. Everyone knew but you?

“Why don’t we send her away?” Daemon points at you, and a sudden wave of fear hits you. Viserys can’t agree with him. You cannot leave. Your panic almost makes you miss his next words. “She is the reason mother is dead. I hate her.”

And the world stops for a second. The argument goes on, Viserys screaming at Daemon, but you are still stuck there. Your ears begin to ring, so you press your hands tightly to them and shake your head.

By the Seven, Daemon is right, you realize with growing horror. Your father and Septa always told you your mother had died the way you were born, from the difficult birth. Tears begin to fall down your face, but you barely notice them. It feels like you are choking.

In your childish mind, the death of your mother in childbirth, and your birth had never been connected. You never thought it had been your fault. But Daemon was right. She was dead because she had birthed you. It was your birth that killed her.

Her death was your fault. You killed her.

No. No. It can’t be right.

“That is not true.” You turn to Viserys, uncaring they have long since moved on with the argument. He has always protected you and reassured you. Even takes care to get rid of the monsters beneath your bed every night. He will fix it. “Brother, he is lying again!”

Viserys makes a strange face. A cross between a grimace and a frown. He doesn’t refute it, nor tries to comfort you.

“It’s the truth.” Daemon smiles, with the smugness of someone who has delivered a killing blow. He advances, his eleven-year-old body seeming larger than life to you, and pokes a finger in your sternum. “You killed her.”

It feels like a rug has been pulled from under your feet. You stumble back. It’s all your fault. Your mother is dead, and your father is never home, haunted by the memory of his wife, because of you. Daemon and Viserys lost their mother, because of you.

You killed her. You killed her. You killed her. The world looks the same around you, despite the revelation, and you wonder if it is so because everyone knew but you. Is it why Daemon doesn’t love you? Why father is never around?

A sob makes its way out of your throat, and then another. And another. Soon, you are bawling like a dying animal, and feel like it too. You cry so much, your little heart feels like it will jump out of your chest and you will die. You cannot breathe, choking in your own snot and tears, and panic makes you nauseous.

Never in your life had you ever cried so. A nervous fit, the Maester will call it later, after you puke your lunch and stop making heaving noises like you are lacking air. One caused by extreme distress. Daemon will be standing guard at the foot of your bed when you come to be again. They had ended up having to give you three drops of Milk of the Poppy to calm you down.

It doesn’t happen again, and you barely remember it when you grow up. But Daemon never forgets it.

CRYING IS A weakness that cannot be tolerated. The three of you had been born dragons, but sometimes Daemon doubted Viserys and you had as much fire in your veins as he did.

Said doubt intensifies when he finds you crying in the gardens. Daemon has never been fond of crying women. He is not an empathetic man, and has a tendency to think he is surrounded by fools. Such a character trait doesn’t lend itself to soothing crying maidens. At least, not sincerely.

If he wants to bed the chit, Daemon can pretend like the best mummer. It’s not hard at all to fool highborn maidens into thinking he shares something special with them, convincing them that the pain won’t last, that it will start to feel good soon. When it comes to you, though, the problems start.

You are not a common whore, like most women at court. As a daughter of House Targaryen, you are closer to a goddess than a woman. Fooling a goddess is no easy task, much less when the goddess knows you so well.

His usual tricks do not work. When Daemon tries to apply faux pity, and forced pleasantries, you see right through him. It’s not because you are particularly cunning, but rather the fact that you have a long memory.

Long enough to remember all the pranks and fun he had had at your expense when the two of you were children. With how much Daemon tortured you, it’s no wonder you prefer Viserys.

Daemon never meant to be as nasty to you as he had been. He coveted the attention Viserys paid you, as the youngest in the family. He disliked how everyone fawned over you, how his mother had died, and his father had left, and all they had gotten in exchange was you.

Another part of Daemon simply enjoyed mischief. Causing chaos for chaos’s sake. Like any young boy, he had fun playing tricks on others. The disdain he felt for you had made you into the ideal target.

When the years began to pass, Daemon had noticed you were flourishing into a beautiful maiden. Targaryen custom dictated you were meant to be his, since you were too young to be Viserys’. There was no point in fixing your relationship, or trying to win you over like he did with the other maidens. You were a given thing. No matter your shared past, you would have to marry him.

It’s only the fact that you are embarrassing the family name that prompts him to approach you in the gardens. He has no intention of comforting you. It’s not like he cares that you are crying. Really. How ridiculous.

“What happened to you?” Daemon asks, sitting next to you. “Princess shouldn’t cry.”

It is quite recent, of course. Viserys' ascension to the throne has not actually yet occurred, but the succession issue has been settled in their favor. Daemon had gathered a small force of loyal men that hadn’t been necessary in the end, but Viserys said his first act as King would be rewarding him from his loyalty.

He knows what he will ask for already. Marriage. His grandmother had tried to marry him to a Vale woman, but the idea had ended up being discarded because Viserys’ own match ensured the allegiance of that kingdom. Daemon wanted to have his Valyrian bride before anyone, especially the Hightower cunt, got any ideas.

“Nothing.” You wipe your tears away, angrily. You scoot your cute little rear towards the edge of the tree you are sitting under. As far as you can go without losing the spot of shade.

Daemon sighs. He is used to you being difficult, but it would soon change. You would be informed of your duty and behave in a manner befitting your position in life soon enough.

“Do I need to protect your honor?” The very thought unsettles him. Three years his younger, you are still barely a maiden in his eyes. A pure, unspoiled being. The idea of someone else corrupting your innocence, something that is meant to be his, is infuriating. Daemon hates when other people touch what is his.

If anyone will corrupt you, it’s him.

You laugh, bitterly.

“If only!”

“What do you mean?” Your statement has clarified nothing. He feels more confused than before. Perhaps, you have a secret lover who refuses to take your maidenhead? Or are you suffering from unrequited love? But when? With whom? You spend nearly all your time in the library, pouring over dusty books, or on dragonback. Not much time for entertaining suitors.

You stay quiet. There is a strange expression on your face, a mix of embarrassment and sadness.

“Hāedus.” Daemon prompts, gently tugging on your braid.

“Some ladies Aemma brought were talking about knights, and kissing…” You get a fit of hiccups and nearly choke, so Daemon is forced to wipe the snot from your nose so you don’t suffocate to death. Let it not be said he is a bad brother. “They laughed at me!”

“They laughed at you?” How dare them. Only Daemon was allowed the honor of your tears. You were too important.

“No one asked to dance with me at the feast! And no knight has ever kissed me.” You pout, about to go into hysterics again. “Ever.”

“Doña hāedus…” Daemon wipes your tears, fighting his smile. He has an inkling you wouldn’t think it funny. “You shouldn’t listen to them. You are a Princess, the blood of the dragon. They are just sheep.”

You pout more. Daemon hurries to comfort you. Oddly, he dislikes seeing tears on your face. It must be because you are in public. As a Princess and his future wife, your actions reflect on House Targaryen.

“Ugly sheep. In fact, the actual sheep in the Vale are prettier.”

“But knights have kissed them! And they get asked to dance, and to walk in the gardens, and…”

Daemon raises his hand.

“Knights would kiss you too if they could. But you are too superior to them. They wouldn’t dare.” Or they would meet Dark Sister. All your first should be his. “It’s excellent that you have not sullied yourself with just any knight who looks at you.”

“But I am getting old.”

You are about to cry again. Your female vanity must be hurt, thinking yourself unwanted. Daemon will never understand caring about what others think of him. Dragons shouldn’t concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep.

But there is something about you, the soft little Princess who crumbles up completely when someone is mean to her, that tugs at his heartstrings.

It is why he leans in and captures your mouth with his. You taste like innocence and salt, melting on his tongue. It’s not Daemon’s first kiss, but it feels like it. There is a tug deep inside of him, a strange yearning on his chest, that has not been present when he has kissed other women. Not even maidens.

Cloyingly sweet, dripping on his tongue like the most enticing potion. His. Never has he experienced this before. Daemon wants to drown on it, drown in you. But before he has a chance, you give him a shove and run as fast as you can.

And he stands there, as if struck by lighting, pinned down by the unmeasurable realization that this is love. Love, in its purest form, for his soon-to-be sister wife. It leaves him dazed, confused, rooted to the spot. Utterly out of control.

“DID YOU HEAR?” The serving girl whispers loudly, her voice carrying through the corridor. Night has fallen already, and you pour over a heavy tome on constellations while sitting in one of the windowsills of the Red Keep. It is the best time to put your new knowledge into practice, but the constant chattering of the maids interrupts you.

You close your book, hesitating between scolding them and sending them away, or waiting for them to leave on their own. Scolding them feels unkind. It’s late enough for them to no longer be on duty, and there is no harm in what they are doing. This corridor is a heavily transited one.

Perhaps you should move to your rooms. But you do not have a balcony, and the view from your windowsill it’s quite limited. As you ponder on it, something they say catches your attention.

“And they say the Prince asked for a blonde girl. A maiden.” The Prince. Daemon! You have not seen hide nor hair of your older brother since he stole your first kiss. In fact, you have been avoiding him.

As children, he had played plenty of nasty tricks on you. Once, in a fit of temper, he had beheaded all your dolls and hanged their little heads from a window. But adulthood had mellowed him out. Or so you thought.

The worst thing wasn’t that Daemon stole your first kiss. It was that you enjoyed it.

“No!” The other girl sounds scandalized.

“Yes. And that is not all. He took her roughly, and was kicked out before even…”

Took a whore roughly? You knew he whored around, but hurting whores was a new low. You weren’t too approving of his behavior, but whoring was normal for young lords. Everyone knew they did it, even the most pious ones. Hurting them, though? It was no better than being a rapist.

The other girl lets out a gasp, but she sounds more delighted by the gossip than anything else.

“Imagine how rough it had to be for them to kick him out.”

“I would say plenty. Poor girl.”

“He is out again, is he not?”

“Every night, like clockwork. Something has roused his appetite, it seems. He used to whore, but not…”

Their scandalized voices drift down the corridor, and you think the rumor must be wrong. Daemon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sure, he whored around, and took plenty of maidenheads, but your brother wasn’t cruel.

Was he?

He had stolen your first kiss. Beyond the softness and the sweetness of the kiss, Daemon had ruined a moment that was meant to be special. Now, it was forever tainted with the memory of being made a mockery of. Not only by those girls, but him too.

There was a difference between stealing a kiss and hurting whores, though. Much more, when it came to hurting them seriously enough to be kicked out of the pleasure house.

Was it your fault? Had he discovered with you he enjoyed taking from women by force? Was he taking out his anger with you on them? The maid had said the girl was blonde. Perhaps Valyrian blonde.

You needed to know. You ran to your rooms and got your black cloak, set on finding him.

Finding Daemon was no easy task. You made it to the city on foot, but once there, you had trouble locating the pleasure houses. There was no sign outwardly pointing to them, but you managed to get to Flea Bottom without getting mugged. Or at least, this looked like what you thought Flea Bottom looked like.

The streets were dirtier, the crowd rougher and drunker. There were people sleeping on the floor, no Sept in sight. This was a place far away from the Gods. The few Goldcloaks patrolling seemed uninterested in actually preventing crime.

You made sure to walk with purpose, afraid of being stopped if you looked like you were out of place. The streets were badly lit, and you could barely tell apart one alley from another.

A sudden tune caught your attention. A woman was singing in a tongue you didn’t recognize. You decided to follow her voice, but before you could do so, someone blocked your path.

“… A dragon for half an hour.” It was a woman. Her hair was dark and hanging limp around her face. She swayed as she walked. “My prince, I will let you choke me.”

You made a face, realizing a strand of your silver hair was peeking on the edge of your hood. She thought you were Daemon, you realized. Both your brother and you kept your hair long, and in the darkness of the alley, with your hood up, you may have looked alike. Was she a whore?

“I’ll let you. A dragon, please, I need to feed my children.”

Children. She had babes. You imagined them, tucked in their beds, wondering where their mother had gone. What if something happened to her? If the children had a present father, he would provide for them, and she wouldn’t be here. It was how the world worked. She must be alone with the babes.

You reached inside your cloak, and pulled out a gold dragon. There was an odd sort of pity building inside you. You imagined yourself, offering up your body to strangers to feed your children, and your heart shattered into little pieces.

You had never questioned the role of whores. They were sullied women, but they served a purpose. Entertain the men so they didn’t hurt others. Tend to their baser needs. It didn’t feel so clear-cut as you avoided the woman, in fear she might attempt to service you.

The voice sounded louder, so you ducked into the next alleyway. It was then you saw them.

The woman singing was sitting at the entrance of a small house. She was scantily clad, as were the surrounding women. But there was only one of them who caught your attention.

She was tall and willowy, with long limbs. There was a haunting elegance to her that looked out of place in the Street of Silk. Her blonde hair was long, and in the right light, could be mistaken for silver. It cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was eerily similar to your own. She was tragically beautiful, stricken by some unseen grief.

Sitting down and clapping along to the song, she looked as if she was praying. There was a dark stain on her neck, cleverly hidden by her hair. The closer you looked, the more it seemed like a bite mark. Not just any bite. A vicious one.

You gasped, hands coming to your mouth to muffle the sound. Whores had never been of concern to you, but now you were seeing their reality, and it was heartbreaking. The thought of women in brothels, in cages, as pleasure slaves, made you want to weep.

Women like you. That she wore your face was even more jarring.

WHEN CARAXES HAD been born, he had not done so alone. Out of the ether, his sister had come, hands linked with his. Meraxes, goddess of the sky, an eternity doomed to hold to her sibling. Caraxes only reflected his twin’s colors, gazing up at her as the flowers did the sun.

It was said that they met only once a day, thanks to the mercy of Gaelithox, who allowed the twins to embrace every sunset. It was the reason Meraxes hated him. He held on to her too strong, and prevented her from embracing the one who she truly loved. He invaded even her reflection, seeking to make himself a part of her, even invading her sacred reflection in the waters of her twin.

The story was always one of your favorites. You begged Viserys every night to tell it to you, sickening Daemon with your romantic tales. He isn’t sure why he is reminded of it today, of all days.

Foreboding, he will think later, when the storm has passed. But now, he chooses to focus on the coronation taking place in front of him, and bask in their triumph.

“Kings reward loyalty.” Viserys says, after the crown is placed on his head by a proud Aemma. “And my first act will be rewarding those that stood by my side.”

Daemon and you are kneeling, the first among the crowd. The first to take a knee to their King. There is a strange feeling in his throat, and he fights the urge to cry. Daemon has always considered tears a weakness, but the moment is so perfect, so magical, he feels the urge to do so.

Men don’t cry. Instead, they take big breaths, and savor their victory. Viserys on the Iron Throne, and Daemon about to be given your hand. All they have ever wanted, now ripe for the taking.

“Brother, please rise.” Viserys' voice is clear and loud. Daemon does so, pleased by the honor of being the first to rise in front of the masses. They had talked about it, of putting up a show for their political enemies, but Daemon had never expected Viserys to grant him honors before any other of his advisors. “Your diplomatic and martial skills were essential to securing my claim. As a reward, I give to you our sister’s hand, and name you my heir. May the two of you have a fruitful union and make House Targaryen proud.”

And when he turns to you, with a smile on his face, he realizes why he remembered the story of Caraxes and Meraxes.

Your beautiful, purple eyes, are wet with tears. You remain on bent knee, frozen.

Daemon pulls you up with the utmost tenderness, one reserved for family alone. The hand on your elbow seems to shake you out of your stupor.

“Thank you, my King.” Your voice trembles, but you speak the words dutifully. You know as well as him that this is Viserys’ day. Everything has to go perfectly. There can’t be any hint of division between the three of you, not when the rallying cry for Viserys had been that he was bringing back the three heads of the dragon.

Three siblings. Three dragonriders. Aegon, Visenya, Rhaenys.

“It is a great honor.” Daemon adds, tightening his grip on your arm. You look ready to bolt, and he is tasked with reminding you that you can’t.

A silent tear travels down your cheek. With your back to the crowd, no one but Viserys and Daemon can see it. Viserys gives him a long look, pleading him to do something. Neither of them had been expecting your reaction.

They had thought you would settle well into your duty. That marriage would give you a stable tether, a shield for your fragile soul. Viserys had chosen Daemon for the honor, had given you to him to care and protect.

But you seem even more scared that you were before. How wrong had they been.

“We are very excited.” Daemon hugs you to him, fighting to keep his composure. Your rejection stings, and he wants to rage, but he can’t. Because you are in public, and House Targaryen doesn’t air their dirty laundry in front of witnesses, but more importantly because your dam is breaking. You let out a little sob, and Daemon has to embrace you fully to prevent you from falling apart.

Fools that they are, the rest of the courtiers mistake it for a sound of joy. What else could you want? To marry the King’s heir, a Valyrian husband who can give you pure Valyrian babes.

“Good.” Viserys smiles, a bit strained. You take a shuddery breath, and straighten up under his arm. Daemon can practically feel the change, from scared girl, to experienced courtier. You know as well as he does the importance of presenting a united front.

You smile. It’s as fake as the silks whores wear, when pretending to be a Targaryen Princess. To the inexperienced masses, it tears all the same.

“How joyful days come ahead. Long live the King!”

You open your arms, the picture of the hopeful bride. The smile threatens to crack your face in two. The crowd cheers. A royal wedding is always something to admire, and there is no better way of celebrating a coronation than with one.

The hour is late when Daemon finally manages to catch Viserys alone. You have gone straight to your rooms after the feast, sulking. Aemma has been sat outside your door for hours by now, trying to coax you out like one would do to a skittish cat. Her talks of duty and royal wombs only got her a pillow to the face for her efforts.

Daemon and Viserys, much more used to your moods, hadn’t bothered. You were angry, but not hysterical. Both often manifested in tears in your case. Only one could prove lethal.

“I do not understand.” Viserys frowns. “What more can she want? The two of you will get Dragonstone, for a few years at least, and when I have an heir, you will not be kicked out. You are family.”

“I do not understand it either.” Underneath the simmering rage Daemon feels, there is only confusion. He is a knight, and has proven his skills sufficiently enough to be awarded Dark Sister. He is of an equal standing to you, a Prince to a Princess. He loves you so deeply it scares him.

The Seven know he has tried to get you out of his head through every means possible. He has deflowered more maidens that he can count this week alone, his cock is chafed raw, and yet, no matter how beautiful they are, your face still haunts him. It’s your name on his lips when he comes, and your body he pictures under him. The whores are never right. Their hair is the wrong shade, they are too thin or too fat, their tears taste of iron instead of your sweet salt.

You should not think it is a bad thing. Women love that sort of thing, leading men by their cocks, getting them so cuntstruck they cannot see straight. You should love it too because it is a weakness to him, but a power you can wield. And yet, you hate it. You had run.

“I cannot go back on my word now.” Viserys reaches for his cup of wine. He knows that his reign is still fragile, and if his lords see his sister defying him, they might get ideas. “She has to marry someone, and with her delicate constitution, I cannot in good conscience…”

“Handing her to a stranger is a bad idea.” Daemon agrees, not out of some selfish motivation, but because he knows it’s the truth. You have always been far more delicate than most ladies, with your books and silly ideas about the role women should play. Had you not been so closely tied to Viserys, you may have even supported Rhaenys.

If Viserys was Aegon, you were Rhaenys. The sensitive little sister, loved because of her innocence and kindness. You never tried to push your strange ideas, after all. You just looked like a kicked puppy when contradicted.

Any other man would crush you at the first hint of defiance. Daemon, used to you as he was, knew rage was futile. If you wouldn’t settle in your duties easily, he had to take action and ensure you did through other means.

Gentler means. Daemon still remembered the fits you used to have when little. Viserys did too. Neither wanted a repetition.

“I have thought about it, and you should forgo the bedding.”

“I agree. It might make her sick.” Sick is the euphemism they use for your fits when there are prying ears. Daemon gives a pointed glance at the guards. Viserys drops the topic after that.

Almost against his will, when the embers of the fire they sit in front of die, Daemon goes to your rooms. He isn’t really thinking, when he walks down the hallways that lead to your chambers instead of his. Nor is he thinking when he dismisses your guards, and opens your door.

You are laying on your side, a pillow held to your thighs. Your hands are made into fists over them, as if you had fallen asleep in your rage still. Despite it, your face is peaceful, with only dried tear tracks to disturb your childish expression.

Your body is curled into itself, tightly. You must be cold, Daemon thinks, and takes of his cloak to lay it over your form.

In dreams, you smile. And Daemon understands that he is no Gaelithox. There was a reason Caraxes and Meraxes were only allowed to embrace once a day, after all.

HORROR AND RAGE are not emotions that lend itself to permanence. At least, not in you. Not when it comes to him.

Not when he plays such strange game, and gets you strange prizes. Daemon has not asked for his cloak back. You have taken to sleeping wrapped up underneath it.

How can a man capable of such cruelty be capable of such tenderness? Confusion means ignorance, and ignorance breeds fear. You have known Daemon all your life, but you are still unable to understand him.

The only certainty you have is that when he is near, your rationality flies out of the window. It’s all instinctual. To fight, to fuck, to fucking fight.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Monsters that take hold of your heart and squeeze it, until it is no more than liquid and pulp. Did he hurt that woman? Will he hurt you? Love you?

Daemon had stolen your first kiss. Daemon had gotten kicked out of a brothel. There was a girl in the Street of Silk with a bite mark on her neck. He had visited you the night of your betrothal and tucked you in.

It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Whichever it is, you have no time to come to terms with it. Viserys wishes for the two of you to be married by the end of this moon. It makes you feel even more blindsided and betrayed.

None of them had thought to ask you before deciding. They had just done so.

The idea of marrying your brother wasn’t what came as a great shock. As a child, you had often daydreamed of honoring your ancestors and becoming your brother’s wife. It was the way things should be. But you had always thought you would marry Viserys.

When Viserys married Aemma, you thought you would marry someone outside your household. Daemon and you were clearly ill-suited, even before everything that had happened between the two of you.

Betrothing the two of you would be madness. You had never understood each other in the manner Viserys and him did. You were an outsider to their relationship, the other head of the dragon. Rhaenys to her conquerors.

But inexplicably, Viserys had done so. Being betrothed to him without even being asked about it stung. No one had thought to warn you, or ask for your opinion. They had simply announced it to court and hoped you would comply.

The feeling of betrayal had only mellowed out after asking Viserys his reasoning. He hadn’t been trying to blindside you, he had explained. He had thought you would be happy. Both Daemon and you yearned for Valyrian partners. It made sense to betroth the two of you, especially because Daemon had asked to marry soon.

Your brothers were just dumb. But their foolishness was a dangerous one, since they rode the two biggest dragons of your generation and sat on the Iron Throne. Common fools could undo the damage they caused.

But in your case, there was no way out but through. Viserys had begged you to give Daemon a chance, and so, you found yourself preparing for meeting him.

Viserys had chosen the place the two of you would meet. The Godswood was neutral territory, and far away from the castle that if you started shouting insults at each other, only the Kingsguard shadowing you would hear.

It only made you dread the encounter further. You had taken a liking to the Godswood, and were contemplating using it as a hideaway for when things at court got to be too much. If this went wrong, it would forever taint the place for you.

You decide to arrive early, to allow yourself some time to compose yourself. Daemon beats you to it, already waiting near a tree when you get there.

“Hāedus,” Daemon says, when he sees you. In a show of rebellion, you have decided to wear your more modest gown, with a neckline that nearly reaches your ears. Aemma had encouraged you to wear something more revealing, but you wanted to strangle the cow. “You look lovely.”

“Lēkia.” You press a kiss to his cheek, unsure if you should greet him like you always do, or the betrothal has changed the protocol. Kissing his cheek as you always do seems safer, but you regret it when his eyes flutter closed at your touch.

He is acting odder than usual. In an increasingly out-of-character charm offensive, he takes off his cloak and places it on the grass.

“So you may sit.” His tone is too formal. It makes you even more wary, but you sit. Daemon does the same, by your side. So close, you end up frowning more.

He leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

“Despite my struggles, I have come to admire you.” Daemon noses along the hair right above your ear. “Rationality has left me, and no matter how hard I try, you haunt me at every corner, every hallway, every street of this damned city.”

“What am I supposed to say?” You complain, with a frown. You push him a little, to be able to meet his eyes.“I am well aware of your attempts at forgetting. Valyrian whores, Daemon? Really?”

“It was all in vain.” He pulls you back in, embracing you. His hands are warm around your stomach, his lips chafed against the skin of your neck. “Let me take down your hair.”

Your eyebrows raise. Out of all things he can ask for, this is the weirdest one. His petition is so simple and innocent, you almost think he is not Daemon.

“Let me take down your hair.” Daemon begs. The ardent tone in his voices surprises you. He sounds like a man possessed. As if he cannot survive if you deny him. “Hāedus...”

This devotion, this unexpected fit of love, surprises you. So much, you find yourself nodding.

You feel his chest contract with his sudden inhale. His hands are careful as they unmake your braid. His touch so tender, even the most delicate hairdresser would envy it. But when your hair falls down your back, in mussed tendrils, he shows himself to be Daemon.

His nose presses to your temple, breathing you in. His fingers run through your hair, and he presses feverish kisses to your scalp, your jaw, your ear. Licks the sweat behind it, samples your earlobe with his teeth.

Teeth. It makes you tense. You think of the girl in Flea Bottom, of the bite over her throat.

“I can’t stop thinking of you. You appear before me in the darkest corners, and in the brightest meadows.” Daemon inhales, hands grasping your waist tightly. “When I squired, away from home, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t know it was love then, but I have loved you since before I knew what the word meant. I fucked the tightest cunts of Westeros, sampled the prettiest maidens, and yet it is your face that I imagine when tugging at my cock.”

Something inside you snaps. Among the righteous indignation, a strange satisfaction takes place. You shove him off you.

“Don’t be crass!”

Daemon doesn’t attempt to embrace you again, but remains unbearably close. Your eyes drift to his lips. You would love him even if he were the one who mauled the whore. You would love him even if he did it to you. Because of it, perhaps.

“I want you to be mine. Put me out of my misery.” Daemon begs, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Marry me, and end my suffering.”

“You frighten me.” You whisper, without quite meaning to.

“Do you fear I will hurt you?” Daemon asks you, voice very gentle.

You avert your eyes. It’s not that what you fear. It’s how out of control you are when it comes to him.

“I would never.” He vows, leaning in. His lips brush against yours, before Daemon presses his forehead to yours. He looks into your eyes, and smiles. “Do you remember the last time we kissed?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.” You scowl at the memory. “You stole…”

“No. You were crying because no knight…” He gets up, and begins to tug you to your feet. You remain sitting. “Oh, get up, you stubborn thing.”

“Daemon!” You complain, but get up. He stands a few feet away from you. Curious about the point he intends to make, you cross your arms over your chest and glare.

He offers you his hand, as if to dance. You take it, eyes full of distrust.

“I have been a cunt. But you have to stop running.” Daemon circles you, pulling on your hand slightly. Is he…? Your confusion must show on your face because he gives you a mocking glance. “To dance from afar is not to dance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You might as well be in Essos.” Daemon keeps circling you. “Let us dance properly, for once.”

“Here? Dance?” There is no music. And your brother has never been one for bursting into spontaneous song and dance. At least, you don’t think so.

“Together. You wanted knights to ask you to.” Daemon pulls you close, into a hug, and the puzzle pieces finally fit. The day he had kissed you, you had been crying because no one had asked you to dance. That Daemon remembers the reason when you had nearly forgotten it yourself astonishes you. “Now a Prince asks you. Do not make me ask twice, please.”

“Let us try. To dance as if glued by fire. Let me prove I can be good to you. That I listen to you. ”

And it’s stupid. It’s silly, there is not even music. But you let him pull you in, this time, and realize Daemon has always been capable of tenderness. At least, when it comes to you.

433 notes · View notes

acesw · 4 months ago

Text

Disabled Characters in Reverse: 1999 - Part 3

Welcome to the final installment of this list of the game's disabled characters (for now), and we are ending it with the most interesting of them: the neurodivergent characters!

These characters are particularly special since a lot of them are mainly speculated, but they draw heavy parallels to their respective conditions that they had to be taken note of.

Now because there are so many characters, they became an entire category of their own instead of being lumped with the previous post, and this became undoubtedly one of the longest texts I've written down among most of the analysis posts I've made for this game.

I hope that you enjoy reading this final piece, let's get started.

Autism: 37, Horropedia, Melania, Balloon Party, Avgust

All of these characters are incredibly similar to each other, and yet they all have their share differences. For example, both Horropedia and 37 are characters that embody one of the main stereotypes about autism: Incredibly intelligent characters who fixate on specific subjects. 37’s focus is on mathematics, while Horropedia’s is the horror genre. Even their personalities are quite similar: arrogant yet kind and understanding people.

They lace their speech with associations to their topic of interest, and will infodump about it unprompted. The two of them also struggle to pick up social cues, nor can tell if the information they’re sharing is unsolicited because the information is normal to themselves.

However, the difference between them in this is that Horropedia is more carefree about it, whilst 37 is more self-aware about the fact that she can’t come to a mutual understanding with others.

The rest of the characters here also share these traits, but they all stand out in their own ways:

Melania’s intricate way of making plans tends to be in the form of academic exams. These tend to be her greatest motivator when it comes to doing work, and gets easily frustrated when having to change them. She also has a set routine that she gets easily surprised by sudden interruptions.

Balloon Party’s speech is found to be unconventional (i.e. the speech impediment from earlier, the tone of her voice is found to be naturally flat) and is paired with word association and echolalia.

Avgust has a unique understanding of the world around him, with him associating everything and everyone with more innocent concepts. (e.g. his father’s death is often referred to as him “sleeping in the mines”) None of these mean that he doesn’t understand things like death as what they are, only that he’s very young among the cast and has been raised in a healthy environment that allows him to continue thinking this way for a bit longer.

ADHD: Regulus & Eagle

With Regulus, it’s more of a headcanon than it is backed by evidence, but the main points that can be found for her are her restlessness, lacking attention span, and her impulsivity. They’re common aspects (hyperactive) in ADHD, and thus they aren’t exactly conclusive.

But I also found that Regulus also tends to bring her interests to light when navigating through conversations, and this with the reasons mentioned above makes me personally believe that Regulus does not just strictly have ADHD, but still overall neurodivergent.

Eagle seems to have the inattentive type of ADHD. A more established indicator of her likely having it is through her anecdote, where she was said to have had some sort of attention-deficit. In that anecdote, Eagle mainly acts on her own impulses such as jumping to try to find the missing boy scout, and even helping X if it meant that it progressed her mission.

She struggles to take rejection and constantly tries to prove herself to be able to gain the acceptance she’s looking for. It made me believe that she has Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. (RSD)

While these alone aren’t conclusive either, they still give me enough reason to believe that Eagle could be implied to be neurodivergent too.

AuDHD (Autism + ADHD): Vertin, Marcus, AliEn T

From the earlier points, we find that some of the mixed traits that make for auDHD are found in Vertin, Marcus, and AliEn T. All three of them are quite emotional (even Vertin in spite of her stoicism) and impulsive people, where they tend to jump into action when they have a rough plan set in mind. They also have their own interests (wildlife, reading, Earth) and tend to get absorbed into their own thoughts quite often. Because of the latter, they tend to lead themselves into executive dysfunction. Some things about them differ, however.

Starting with Vertin, most of the “obvious” signs are present in her childhood, where she was restless and curious of the world beyond SPDM, making it difficult for her to focus in school. Yet, she still kept up with topics that interested her, going as far as skipping classes to learn in her own way.

She has gotten punished often for her “defiance,” and ended up being radicalized by it and by the trauma she faced in Chapter 3. Currently, she masks quite heavily to a degree, leaving her main indicators to be her tactile tendencies (i.e. touching things and others out of curiosity) and her becoming absorbed to her own thoughts.

Meanwhile, Marcus is an incredibly anxious person. She often relied on someone like Hofmann to socialize with others and make decisions for her since she struggled greatly in that aspect. She can be easily upset by things and even by her own overthinking, taking rejection quite poorly before resorting to immediately coming up with ways to resolve it.

She often retreats back to reading to be able to ground herself from any stress. But now with everything that’s happened, Marcus has begun working on herself and mustering the courage to be able to push her limits independently.

We’re not entirely sure about how AliEn T’s home society is structured, but it can be argued that his and our societies tend to parallel each other. For example, AliEn T is seen as a bit eccentric to his kind like the regional manager and co-workers because of him being emotionally prone and being very fixated on the Earth. (which his society collectively avoids)

A lot of his notes about his home in the anecdote imply that in his home society, they have their equivalent of some of the struggles found in the neurodivergent experience, which is why he and Officer Williams in the anecdote could empathize with each other.

Others / Related but non-diagnostic: Mesmer Jr., Isolde, Pickles, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, Blonney

As I explained in the previous post, Mesmer Jr. and Isolde both greatly suffer from conditions that particularly stem from their trauma and subsequent C-PTSD.

Again, Mesmer Jr. is heavily hinted to have OCD, while Isolde has many disorders linked to C-PTSD. (formerly named as "hysteria") Due to the nature of their respective conditions, they both deserve a place here in this list.

It can be assumed that Pickles is neurodivergent due to him being nicknamed as an “indigo pup.” While this might be related to his arcane skill, the nickname is also intriguing because it's like the term “indigo children.”

“Indigo children” are classified as those who are incredibly intelligent and possess special talents or powers according to the New Age concept. However, this classification is closely associated with neurodivergence due to the similar descriptions.

Meanwhile, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, and Blonney have shared stories in which they've had to maintain some form of distance towards their arcanist identities due to the hostile nature of their environments. They embraced it as part of themselves in the end, though.

Kaalaa Baunaa has been an avid researcher ever since she was young, and enjoys maintaining punctuality through routines. However, she had been often discriminated against in her initial workplace, where her arcanist identity had been picked out first before taking her research in consideration; even her research had been disregarded due to the “unconventional” methods that she applied to conduct them.

It can be considered a familiar feeling among neurodivergent people and it is incredibly frustrating when it happens. For KB, it had gotten bad to the point of her (and Kumar) getting kicked out of their institution, but it never stopped either of them from continuing to do their work.

Tooth Fairy and Blonney both grew up in mixed societies, where they had to force themselves to conform to be able to be accepted in both human and arcanist social spaces.

Tooth Fairy, while achieving this balance in her college years, had never been treated as an equal by either side due to both her arcanist identity and frequency to interact with humans. She was bullied for it and was even taken advantage of when she made the medicine in her character story. These experiences led her to accept her own identity and eventually stop overtly conforming to both societies.

Blonney meanwhile moved to a predominantly human society, where she greatly conformed to human ideals and trends to “fit in” with the humans. But she was still off-handedly discriminated against due to simply just being an arcanist. She tried really hard to suppress herself, to the point that she dimmed her own “light” and was unable to use her personalized arcane skill. But when she came back to Green Lake, her mask slowly fell apart, and then it reignited her passion, which allowed her to begin accepting herself again.

Honorable Mentions

Sonetto, Matilda, Sotheby, Ezra, Jessica - Autism (mainly credited from: @/H0LOdm on twt)

While these are mainly headcanon, some of these characters here do display neurodivergent traits in their own ways, most especially the latter 3 of these characters here. They all struggle to pick up social cues and tend to struggle in (conventionally) socializing/empathizing with others.

Sotheby and Jessica in particular both lace their language using their interests and the environment they grew up in. Ezra also uses his interests in fungi as a conversation starter with others, eager to see any mushrooms that might be potentially found anywhere.

Final Notes and Thanks

When I started writing these down I didn't really think much of it outside of the fact that there were so many characters who were particularly neurodivergent, which then further extended to the rest of the disabled characters as well. I tried my best to word these as respectfully as I can, and that I hope people could find fun in reading these as much as I did writing them.

I give my acknowledgements to these people for their help and support for the creation of list in entirety: Jager, Lupjo, Reg, Bee ( @e-0timely ) , Abyss ( @abyss-idiot ), and Tokki

Considering the nature of this list, I want to say that are non-conclusive and can be interpreted in any way you want. As I said in my previous version of this post, "...Every experience is different, and I think these characters here openly show that."

Feel free to add your own insights, corrections, and even your own headcanons here. Thanks for reading, and have the two links to the first two lists down here.

Physically Disabled Characters Psychologically Disabled Characters

#reverse 1999 #character analysis #horropedia #avgust #vertin #balloon party #kaalaa baunaa #tooth fairy #37 reverse 1999 #melania reverse 1999 #regulus reverse 1999 #eagle reverse 1999 #alien t reverse 1999 #marcus reverse 1999 #pickles reverse 1999 #blonney reverse 1999

194 notes · View notes