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mononijikayu · 22 days ago

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honeymoon — gojo satoru.

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……” You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.” “But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, oral (male and female receiving), pet names (baby, wifey....), love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, intoxication, partying, slice of life, domestic life, family, honeymoon, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of alcohol consumption, depiction of being drunk, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of being drunk, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! satoru, wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.5k words

NOTE: when i was plotting, i really thought about how i never made an explicit thing for us and them, so this is an extension of this along with my other things. i also included the end, because it was just something i think about. how would satoru gojo explain to his child how he was made? anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! i love you <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip!

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THIS WAS A LOT, EVEN FOR HIM. Two years of marriage, and you were finally going on a honeymoon. It was a journey that had been delayed for so long, almost forgotten amid the chaos of life and the expectations that weighed heavily on Gojo Satoru as the clan leader.

From the beginning, Satoru had refused to follow the traditional expectations—refused to parade you like some prize on display for the men in the clan. On your wedding night, instead of the grand celebrations and rituals everyone had expected, there had been a quiet understanding between the two of you.

Back then, you and Satoru were far from being romantically inclined. The marriage had been more of an alliance, an arrangement to fulfill the duties both of you bore. He hadn’t wanted to make you uncomfortable, and you had appreciated his consideration, even if it left a lingering sense of uncertainty between you.

But time had worked its magic, slowly and subtly. You had grown closer, finding comfort and familiarity in each other's presence. The first kiss had been tentative, almost accidental, but it had opened the door to something more profound. Each kiss after that became less about caution and more about the quiet desire that had started to blossom between you.

Now, you stood together at the threshold of something new. You had been the one to bring it up, gently, cautiously. You told him you were ready for the next step, ready to explore the possibilities that had once seemed so distant. Satoru had listened, his usual playful demeanor tempered by something more serious, more uncertain.

For all his bravado and confidence, you could see the nervousness in his eyes, the slight hesitation that had become rare in the man who seemed unshakable. This was new for him too, a path neither of you had walked before, and the weight of it was not lost on him.

As you packed for the trip, you could feel the unspoken tension between you both, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Satoru hovered nearby, throwing casual remarks your way, but there was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t ignore.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he finally asked, his gaze intense as he watched you carefully fold the last of your clothes into the suitcase.

You met his eyes, seeing the vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’m sure, you know?” you said, your voice steady. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it at our own pace.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always know how to keep me grounded,” he said, his tone lightening.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll be okay, Satoru,” you reassured him. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close. “Yeah, we have.” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with you.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by the quiet confidence that whatever came next, you would face it together. This trip, this honeymoon, was just another step in a journey that was uniquely yours, one that you were ready to take with him by your side.

The morning of the trip arrives with a quiet hum of excitement and a nervous energy that fills the air. Satoru, always so composed, is now anything but. He paces the living room, hands running through his snowy white hair, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed by a deep-seated anxiety. For once, the great Satoru Gojo—the man who could face curses and calamity without a flicker of fear seems utterly and completely lost.

“What if I mess this up?” he mutters to himself, barely noticing the presence of Megumi, Tsumiki, and your mother as they watch him from the doorway. “What if she realizes this was a mistake? What if I just do the worst and I—”

Your mother steps forward first, her soft, reassuring voice cutting through his frantic rambling. “Satoru,” she says gently, a calm smile on her lips. “You need to breathe. You’re going to be fine.”

He glances at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. “But… What if I’m not? What if I do something wrong? What if—”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing from the side, sighs and steps closer. “You’re overthinking again, it’s really annoying.” he says, his tone blunt but not unkind. “She chose you, Gojo–san. And she’s still here. That’s not going to change just because you’re nervous about this trip.”

Satoru pauses, considering the words, his brow furrowed. “But what if—”

“Gojo–san.” Tsumiki interrupts, her voice softer than Megumi’s but just as firm. “You love her, right?”

He blinks, as if the question is absurd. “Of course I do!” he answers immediately, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I love her more than anything.”

“Then trust her.” Tsumiki says simply, with her beaming smile. “Trust that she loves you too. Trust that she understands.”

Your mother nods, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently. “She knows you, Satoru. She knows your flaws, your strengths… and she loves you anyway. Just be yourself. That’s all she wants.”

Satoru takes a deep breath, his shoulders still tense but beginning to relax under their calming words. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, you know?” he admits, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to lose her. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Megumi, always the quiet anchor in the storm that was Satoru’s life, steps even closer. “You won’t.” he says with quiet certainty. “You’re both figuring this out together. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying this. She wants to see you happy, Gojo–san. And I think… you need to see that too.”

Satoru nods slowly, his breath evening out as he absorbs their words. He straightens up, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture, but now tempered with something softer, more genuine.

“Okay….okay.” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “Okay. I can do this.”

Your mother squeezes his arm one last time, her smile warm and encouraging. “You already are, Satoru. Now go! The two of you need to make some great memories. And don’t forget to have fun.”

He laughs, a little shakily, but it’s a real laugh, the kind that lights up his face. “Yeah, fun… I think I remember how to do that, mother!” he teases, and they all chuckle.

As they head back to their respective rooms in the house, Gojo Satoru stands alone for a moment, taking a deep breath. He feels lighter, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The anxiety is still there, but it’s manageable now, a small flutter in his chest rather than a crushing force. He loves you too much to let fear get in the way. He loves you enough to take this step, to trust in the bond you’ve built together, one small moment at a time.

When he finally comes to find you, finally ready and dressed for the airport. He couldn’t help but just stare. You were so beautiful. And you chose him, to love him like this and bless him with beauty like this. Somehow, there’s a new steadiness in his gaze, a renewed sense of purpose. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and you can feel the resolve in his touch. You smiled at him, squeezing back.

“I’m ready to go.” he says softly, his blue eyes searching for yours. “Ready to do this, with you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “Then let’s go, Satoru. Let’s make this ours.”

And with that, you both step forward—toward whatever the future holds, side by side, ready to face it together.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG FLIGHT, AND HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The plane touched down in the city of Paris, the city bathed in the soft light of an early evening. Gojo Satoru’s firm fingers remain intertwined with yours as you both step out into the bustling airport, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that has become second nature to him.

He’s still a little on edge, that was certain. You can tell from the way his eyes dart around, the smallest twitch of his lips betraying his usual calm. But he’s here, and that matters more than anything.

He had taken time off, a long time, much to the frustration of the higher-ups and the clan elders who had protested and argued about duty and obligations. Yet Satoru had been unyielding, for once using his influence not for some mission or jujutsu-related endeavor, but for something that mattered far more to him—you.

Satoru seems more relaxed now, leaning back in the seat, one arm casually draped over your shoulders. “I still can’t believe I managed to take this much time off.” he muses aloud, a small smile on his lips. “I think they’re having a meltdown back at the school. But, honestly? Worth it.”

You chuckle. “Are you going to get in trouble for this?” you ask, a little worried despite yourself.

He snorts. “Let them try,” he says with a wink. “They can’t exactly do much to the strongest sorcerer in the world, can they?”

His arrogance, though familiar, is softened by the way he looks at you, his gaze filled with an affection that makes your cheeks warm. “Besides, wifey….” he continues. “If it means I get to see you smile like that, I’d take a whole year off.”

You shake your head, amused. “That might be a bit much, even for you, Satoru.”

You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.”

“But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

Nothing more was talked about after that. He was right, if he was being honest. You two have been married for a while now and Gojo Satoru never really took any holidays unless you guys needed him for important school dates or to spend time with you on the weekends. And you supposed you understood, because you were like that too before you took a long break from being a Jujutsu sorcerer.

Now you supposed, your husband Satoru seems lighter, his usual goofy, excited smile finally returning. You liked him like this, you think. Even then when you first met him, he had a really nice smile. And you wanted to keep him this way. Smiling and happy. Because he looked the most beautiful like that.

“So, wifey…..” he says, glancing over at you with a playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Where to first, madame Gojo? The Seine or the cafe?”

The way he says it, with a comically exaggerated French accent, makes you laugh joyously. “You’ve really been practicing, mon amour?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He laughs, the sound bright and carefree. “I’ve been preparing as always!” he corrects, “Wouldn’t it make it the perfect trip if it was hassle free by speaking French? Of course, only the best for my beloved, after all.”

His words carried a mixture of sincerity and that playful confidence you had grown so fond of, causing your heart to skip a beat. The joy that shimmered in his eyes was contagious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. With a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned into the moment.

“Then let’s enjoy a walk to the Seine river and then go to the café,” you said softly.

“Oh? That sounds like a plan!” Satoru responded with his signature energy, his grin wide and carefree.

As the two of you ventured out into the crisp evening air, the world seemed to blur into the background. His hand held yours firmly, fingers intertwined as if they’d always belonged there. Every step along the Seine felt like something out of a dream.

The golden lights of Paris danced on the water’s surface, flickering like they were playing just for you. You caught Satoru sneaking glances at the city around him—his eyes bright and full of wonder as he took in the reflection of lights on the river, the charming hum of the city enveloping you both.

What captivated him the most, though, wasn’t the sights of Paris, but you. You felt his gaze linger every time you smiled at the simple things: a street musician playing a gentle tune, the comforting scent of pastries that filled the air. He marveled at the joy you found in these little moments, and somehow, you felt even more connected to him. With each passing second, it was like you were experiencing the city together, seeing it through each other's eyes.

There were no words needed. Satoru’s presence—steady, warm—was more than enough. As you walked, it felt as though time had paused, and all that existed was the quiet beauty of the night, the sound of your footsteps, and the feeling of his hand in yours.

As the night wears on, your husband insists on buying you a flower from a street vendor, presenting it to you with a flourish and an exaggerated bow that makes you laugh. You catch him watching you more than he watches the sights, his eyes full of a softness that you’ve rarely seen before, as if he’s trying to memorize every moment, every expression on your face.

Later, you find a small café tucked away on a quiet street. Your lovely Satoru orders in perfect French, much to the amusement of the waiter. You think that the Frenchman was delighted at the thought of someone speaking the language, but the accent you supposed was still not enough. Still, you think his pretty face made him more endearing.

The two of you sit outside to enjoy the lovely glow of the streetlights, sharing a dessert and sipping on your drinks, your chairs pulled close together. You got an espresso and your husband got a really sweet iced caramel macchiato, with a pain au chocolat and a chocolate cake on the side.

“I’ve never seen you this relaxed, you know?” you comment softly, noticing the way his shoulders have finally lost their tension.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “I’ve never had a reason to be either, well…not until recently. Especially with you.” he admits. “Being with you… it makes everything else seem less important.”

You reach out, placing your hand over his. “Thank you for this, Satoru.” you say quietly. “For taking this time. For making me feel like I’m worth all of it.”

He turns his hand over, squeezing yours. “You’re worth more than that, wifey.” he replies, his voice low and earnest. “You’re worth everything to me.”

For a moment, the world seems to slow, and it’s just the two of you, sitting together in a little café in Paris, a city full of life and love. The future seems bright, and the worries of the past fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being here, together.

As the night grows deeper, Satoru leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re happy?” he asks softly, as if seeking reassurance.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” you whisper back.

His smile widens, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. “Good.” he murmurs. “Because I plan to keep you that way, no matter what.”

And in that moment, under the Parisian sky, you know he means every word.

The days in Paris begin to blur together, a soft blend of golden light, laughter, and the endless discovery of each other in a new place. You wake each morning to the sound of Satoru's humming, his voice light and carefree as he attempts a tune he’s probably heard in some old movie. He looks so at peace here, his usual edges softened, a smile almost always playing on his lips.

Your first full day is filled with exploration. You both decide to take things slow, meandering through the narrow streets, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. He insists on trying every pastry you come across, from croissants to pain au chocolat, and he buys them in excess, delighting in your shared bites and the way your face lights up with every taste.

At some point, you find yourselves at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the iconic structure towering above you. Satoru looks up, his sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the midday sun. “So, do we do the tourist thing?” he asks, grinning.

You laugh, nodding. “Why not? We’re here, aren’t we?”

He pulls you along, his excitement infectious as you both make your way to the elevator. The ride up is filled with a mix of awe and a little bit of playful bickering. Satoru teases you about your slight fear of heights, and you mock him for pretending to be calm when you can feel the tension in his grip on the rail.

At the top, the view is breathtaking. Paris stretches out beneath you like a painting—rooftops, winding streets, the Seine glittering in the distance. Satoru stands behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Look….” he murmurs in your ear. “All of this… and you’re still the best thing I’ve seen today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re so cheesy, Satoru.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. “Only for you.”

As you gaze out at the city, you feel his heart beating against your back, steady and strong. It’s moments like this that make you realize just how far you’ve come with him—from the careful, tentative steps of your early marriage to the unspoken trust and affection that now bloom between you. The nervousness that lingered in both of you is slowly fading, replaced by something deeper, something real.

Later, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourselves wandering into a small park. The air is cooler, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Satoru pulls you toward a bench, sitting down and tugging you onto his lap. He’s always been tactile, always needed that physical connection, and you’ve come to find comfort in it too.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes softening in the fading light. “You know,” he starts, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curious. “That’s new for you.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you. “Ha-ha. Very funny.” he quips, but there’s a fondness in his voice. “No, really. I’ve been thinking about how… how different everything feels now. How much I want this… us, to be real. Not just an arrangement or a convenience.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. “It already is real, Satoru.” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He nods, his expression earnest. “I know. But I want more. I want… all of you. Your happiness, your worries, your dreams… everything. I want you to know that I’m here. Fully, completely.”

For a moment, you’re lost in his gaze, the sincerity in his words sinking in. “I do know, you know?” you say softly. “And I’m here too. I’ve always been.”

He smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart swell. “Good.” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Because I’ve got big plans for us, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what kind of plans might those be?”

He grins, that playful light back in his eyes. “Well, I was thinking… maybe a little house somewhere quiet, where we can have lazy mornings and late nights, and I can spend every day annoying you with my presence. Lots of space for Tsumiki and Megumi. For….for more kids, maybe.”

You laugh, the sound bright and free. “Sounds like a dream.” you tease.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “It is, isn’t it?” he whispers against your mouth. “My dream. Our dream.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in his arms under the soft glow of the Parisian twilight, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ll face it together, with love and laughter and all the beautiful, messy moments in between.

══════════════════

BEFORE LONG, THEY WERE INTO THE FUN. The night falls deeper, and you find yourselves in a cozy, dimly lit jazz bar on the quieter side of the city. The music is soft and sultry, a saxophone weaving its way through the smoky air. You’ve already had a few drinks, and while you’re feeling pleasantly light, Satoru—who rarely drinks at all—has decided tonight is an exception.

He raises his glass, clinking it gently against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “To us!” he toasts, his voice already carrying that playful slur that makes your heart flutter.

“To us!” you echo, and take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

The band starts up a livelier tune, something with a beat that makes your foot tap against the floor. Satoru grins, setting down his glass with a flourish. “Come on, wifey!” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you up,.“Get up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet, but you let him lead you to the small, crowded dance floor. He spins you around with a dramatic flair, earning a few amused glances from the other patrons, but you don’t care. Tonight, it’s just the two of you, and the rest of the world feels miles away.

Satoru moves with an unexpected grace, his movements loose and free. He’s not a bad dancer—in fact, he’s surprisingly good, his body swaying in rhythm with the music. You let yourself be pulled close, your hands resting on his shoulders as he guides you through the steps, his laughter bright and infectious.

“You’re actually good at this, Satoru.” you tease, your head spinning slightly, not just from the drinks but from the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the room.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I have many hidden talents, always!” he whispers, his tone low and teasing. “But this, wifey….” he continues, his hands sliding down to rest at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “This is my favorite one.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, and Satoru’s grin widens. The two of you continue dancing, moving in sync, the music carrying you along, your bodies pressed close, swaying with the rhythm. The alcohol has made you both bolder, and you feel his hands tighten on your waist, his touch firm yet gentle.

Your heart races as his face draws closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know, wifey….” he murmurs, his voice low, “I don’t usually do this—drinking and dancing like an idiot.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know you don’t.” you reply softly, your hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “But I’m glad you’re doing it with me.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you—a deep, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. His mouth is warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget where you are, lost in the sensation of his lips, his hands, the way he’s pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

You kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he groans softly, his grip on you tightening. The world around you blurs, and it’s just the two of you, kissing like you’re the only people in the universe. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

“God, you taste good,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice husky, and you feel a surge of heat pool in your stomach. You press yourself closer to him, your body molding against his, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Satoru, baby.” you whisper, your voice breathy, and he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, his touch growing bolder with every passing second. You can feel his heart pounding against yours, his breath hot and fast, and your own pulse quickens in response.

“Let’s get out of here, wifey.” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with desire.

You nod, your breath coming in short, excited bursts. “Yeah….let’s go.” you whisper back, feeling the same burning need coursing through you.

He grabs your hand, his grip firm and steady, and you both make a quick exit from the bar, laughter bubbling between you as you stumble into the cool night air. The streets of Paris are quiet now, the city settling into the late hours, but you hardly notice or rather, you could scarcely care. You were too far gone in cloud nine to care.

Your husband Satoru pulls you close again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity, and you’re lost in him once more, the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You barely make it back to the hotel, your kisses growing more heated, more desperate, with each step. By the time you reach your room, Satoru’s hands are tangled in your hair, his lips moving down your neck, and you’re breathless with want, your fingers tugging at his shirt.

He fumbles with the key, cursing under his breath, and you laugh, breathless, helping him steady his hands. When the door finally swings open, he pulls you inside, kicking it shut behind you, and his mouth is on yours again, hot and demanding.

You push him back against the wall, your hands roaming his chest, and he lets out a low, pleased hum, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, sliding up your sides, making you shiver. “I’ve wanted this, wifey.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “ I just wanted you so bad… for so long.”

Your response is a quiet moan as his lips find yours again, his hands pulling you even closer, and you know, in this moment, that this is exactly where you want to be—wrapped up in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against yours, letting the world outside fade away until it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, in Paris, under the spell of the night.

The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air is thick with the heat of your bodies. Satoru’s breath comes out in ragged gasps, his head thrown back against the pillows, his hair splayed out in a mess of white strands. He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his knuckles white with the force, and his chest rises and falls with every sharp inhale.

“God……..” he groans, voice low and breathless, the sound of it echoing in the small space. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with lust, but there’s a softness there too, a look of wonder as he gazes down at you.

You move against him with purpose, your mouth warm and soft, sliding up and down his length with a rhythm that has his hips bucking up slightly, desperate for more. Your tongue swirls around him, and he gasps, the sound breaking into a quiet moan, his hands reaching for you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Feels so good, wifey.” he slurs, his voice thick and heavy with pleasure. “Fuck… you’re so perfect.” He can barely keep his eyes open, his head rolling back against the pillow, his body taut with tension, the pleasure building in waves that crash over him again and again.

You hum softly, the vibration sending a shiver through him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, right there….” he gasps, his voice breaking. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You don’t. You keep going, moving with a deliberate slowness that has him trembling beneath you, his entire body responding to every flick of your tongue, every gentle scrape of your teeth. He’s never felt like this—so completely undone, so out of control. And yet he’s never felt more alive, more connected, more in love than he does right now, with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, and he looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “I—” he starts, but his voice catches, and he swallows hard, trying to steady himself. “I love you, baby.” he whispers, the words spilling out of him in a rush, as if he can’t keep them in any longer.

You pause for just a second, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away. There’s so much there—desire, adoration, fear, and a kind of raw, aching need that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Then you smile, just a little, your lips curling around him, and you take him in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. He bucks up again, his grip on the sheets tightening as he feels that familiar coil of heat tightening in his stomach, building and building with every movement, every sensation.

“Ah… I can’t—” he chokes out, his breath hitching, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

And then he’s gone, his head tipping back, a guttural moan tearing from his lips as he comes undone, the pleasure crashing over him in a wave so intense he feels like he might just shatter. His whole body tenses, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as the world blurs around him.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing, his chest heaving with the effort. He feels like he’s floating, his body weightless, his mind blank except for the overwhelming sensation of you, your warmth, your touch, your love.

When he finally comes back to himself, he looks down at you, his eyes still hazy, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Holy shit.” he breathes out, his voice shaky, and he lets out a weak laugh, his fingers still tangled in your hair. “That… that was incredible.”

You lean up, crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips, and he kisses you back, slow and sweet, his hand cupping your cheek as if he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs against your mouth, his other hand trailing down your back, pulling you closer.

You smile against his lips, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the way he’s still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release. “I think we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.

He grins, his eyes bright with excitement and affection. “Oh, I hope so.” he replies, his voice filled with promise, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

And as he pulls you back down into another kiss, deep and slow, you feel it too—the certainty that whatever comes next, you’re ready for it. Together.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… Tonight is all about you."

You shiver at his words, a thrill running down your spine. His hands slide down your sides, settling on your hips, and he shifts you gently, guiding you onto your back. He hovers over you, his body warm and solid against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air between you.

He takes his time, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his mouth hot and soft as he moves lower, tasting your skin. Every kiss sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth finds all the places that make you sigh, that make you arch against him.

His hands are everywhere—gentle yet insistent, roaming over your body, touching, caressing, exploring. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, until you’re gasping, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

“Please, Satoru…” you whisper, your voice a soft, needy plea.

He smiles against your skin, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Patience, baby.” he murmurs, his voice teasing but thick with need. “I want to make this last… make you feel good.”

He continues his descent, his kisses growing more heated, more purposeful. His mouth moves lower still, down your stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, and you feel your breath hitch, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands part your thighs, his touch firm but gentle, and you feel your heart start to race, your pulse pounding in your ears.

He glances up at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with a mixture of mischief and adoration. “Just relax, baby.” he whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp. “Let your loving husband take care of you.”

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue moving with a slow, deliberate precision that has you moaning his name, your hips lifting off the bed as pleasure sparks through you like wildfire.

He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, tasting you, teasing you, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you in place as he brings you to the brink over and over again.

You’re lost in the sensation, your head falling back against the pillows, your fingers gripping the sheets as he works you over with his mouth, his tongue moving in ways that make your toes curl, that send you spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Satoru, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking, and he hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

“Mm, that’s it.” he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of satisfaction. “Let go for me… I want to feel you come.”

His words are like a command, and you feel yourself falling, tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body arching against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him against you as you come, crying out his name.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his mouth relentless, his tongue flicking and curling, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trembling with aftershocks.

“Again, baby.” he whispers, his voice dark and filled with want. “I want to hear you scream my name again.”

And you do—again and again. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he’s building you up again, his fingers joining his mouth, pressing into you with a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart. His thumb finds that perfect spot, rubbing circles that make your vision blur, and you’re gone again, crying out, your body clenching around him, your mind blank with pleasure.

You lose count of how many times he makes you come, each one more intense than the last, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a storm, pulling you deeper and deeper into a sea of sensation. You’re breathless, your body spent, and yet he keeps going, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you, to make you feel as cherished and adored as he possibly can.

When you finally collapse against the sheets, your body trembling, your skin slick with sweat, he crawls up to meet you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, tender kiss, his hands gentle as they cradle your face.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice filled with awe, his breath warm against your lips. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel like this.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love, and you pull him close, kissing him deeply, letting him know without words that you feel the same. Because in this moment, with him, you’ve never felt more alive, more loved, more complete.

Satoru’s breath hitches when he feels you shift beneath him, the soft, unintentional grind of your hips against his sending a jolt of electricity straight through him. He bites back a moan, his fingers tightening on your hips instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he tries to maintain some semblance of control.

God, the way you affect him—how effortlessly you make his heart race, his breath catch, his body respond like this—it’s like you have a power over him that goes far beyond anything he’s ever known. He’s already hard, painfully so, and the thin fabric of his uniform pants does little to hide his need, the friction almost too much to bear.

“S-Shit…..” he mutters, his voice low and strained, and he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to move like that, hadn’t expected the sheer intensity of his reaction.

He wants to touch you, to hold you, to be buried deep inside you, but he’s almost afraid to move, afraid that if he does, he’ll lose what little control he has left.

You shift again, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a broken moan escaping his lips as he presses against you, feeling your warmth, your softness, even through the layers of fabric. It’s too much, and yet not enough, and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“God, baby.” he breathes out, his voice trembling, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to hold himself back. “You have no idea… what you do to me.”

He’s desperate, his body aching with need, his mind a haze of lust and longing, but he’s also so full of love, of adoration, that it takes his breath away. He wants you—he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything—but he also wants to savor this, to make it last, to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He grinds against you again, more deliberately this time, and he lets out a low, shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I’m… I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I can’t… I can’t stop myself.”

His hands move to your waist, fingers splaying out over your skin, and he begins to move against you, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. He can feel you beneath him, feel the heat of your body, the way you respond to his every touch, his every movement, and it drives him wild.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you with a hunger that matches the desperation in his movements, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you, devouring you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips, and he tugs you closer, pulling you against him, needing more, needing everything.

“I… I need you. Need you so bad.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice breaking, raw and filled with longing. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

He shifts his weight slightly, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he struggles to free himself. He’s too impatient, too needy, and he lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers trembling as he finally manages to shove his pants down just enough to release his aching length.

He’s rock-hard, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum, and he groans again as he presses against you, the heat of your body sending another wave of pleasure crashing through him.

“Please, baby.” he whispers, his voice desperate, his hips grinding against you, “I can’t… I can’t wait anymore.”

You arch against him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, and he moans, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

He’s trembling, his whole body taut with need, and he can barely think, barely breathe, all he knows is that he wants you, needs you, more than anything. He presses forward slowly, carefully, his breath catching in his throat as he feels you envelop him, inch by inch, the tight, wet heat of you driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck… you feel… so good....” he groans, his hips pressing forward, sliding deeper inside you, and he can’t stop the shudder that runs through him, the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside you, of being this close, this connected.

He starts with deliberate slowness, his thrusts shallow and gentle, as if testing the boundaries of your shared connection. His breath catches, and you can feel the tension in his body, how he's holding back, savoring the sensation of being so close to you.

The warmth of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together so seamlessly, sends a shiver through you. Your legs instinctively tighten around him, pulling him deeper, and that's when you hear it—a low, guttural growl from deep within his chest.

The sound is raw, primal, a reflection of his desire, and it sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His restraint begins to crumble. He thrusts harder, his hips snapping against yours with growing intensity, and each movement feels more urgent, more desperate. His hands, once tender on your waist, now grip you with fervor, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

The pace quickens, his need spilling out in every motion. He’s relentless, each thrust filled with a hunger to make you feel the same pleasure that's overtaking him. You can hear the labored breaths escaping his lips, see the fire in his eyes as they lock onto yours. His voice, hoarse and trembling with emotion, breaks the silence between you.

“God… I love you.” he gasps, barely able to form the words between ragged breaths. His rhythm becomes frenzied, driven by the overwhelming sensation of being with you in this moment.

“I love you… so much… so fucking much,” he groans, his voice thick with passion. Each declaration is a pulse of raw emotion, his need to show you, to let you feel every ounce of his love, pouring out of him.

His movements, once careful and measured, have become wild and uncontrollable, driven by the depth of his feelings. Every thrust is a a call to his desire, every gasp a confession of how deeply he’s fallen for you.

His pace becomes frantic, a blend of raw need and overwhelming affection. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the intensity of his desire matching your own.

His hands roam from your waist to your hips, gripping tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let go—afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the air, the room heavy with heat and tension. You feel the build-up of pleasure rising within you, matching the urgency of his thrusts.

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he looks at you, as if his every feeling, his every thought, is laid bare in this moment.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, each one catching as his need grows more intense. The sensation of you wrapped around him, the way your body responds to his every touch, only fuels him further.

He lowers his head to press his lips against your neck, kissing a trail from your collarbone up to your jaw, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't… get enough of you," he murmurs against your skin, his voice shaky, consumed by the pleasure coursing through him. "You're everything… everything I need."

His words are laced with both desperation and adoration, the weight of his feelings crashing over him. With each thrust, you can feel how close he is to the edge, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this moment with you, to savor every second.

His hands grip your thighs now, pulling you even closer, the friction between you igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every nerve.

The pressure inside you builds, coiling tighter and tighter as he moves. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body arching into him, and he groans in response, the sound reverberating deep within his chest.

It’s as if the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. All you can feel is him—his heat, his breath, the weight of his love for you driving him to move faster, harder.

“I’m so close, baby.” he gasps, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold on just a little longer, his body trembling with restraint. His eyes meet yours again, and the look in them is nothing short of devotion. “I need you… I need you to come with me.”

And with those words, everything inside you unravels. The release hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go, the force of his climax overwhelming him.

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick with the afterglow of what you’ve just shared. His body rests against yours, both of you spent, your hearts beating in sync as you catch your breath.

══════════════════

epilogue

In the cozy living room of your home, Gojo Satoru sat on the floor with your son, Satoshi, sprawled out in front of him, surrounded by toys and colorful blocks.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Satoru was trying to entertain Satoshi with a game of building blocks, but the little boy’s curiosity took an unexpected turn.

Satoshi looked up at Satoru, his big, innocent eyes full of questions. “Papa, papa!” he asked, “How was ‘toshi born?”

Satoru’s eyes widened, and he froze mid-block placement, the toy car in his hand almost slipping out. He glanced around, searching for a way to divert the conversation, but Satoshi was looking at him with unwavering expectation.

Satoru cleared his throat, his mind racing back to that unforgettable honeymoon in Paris and maybe a little after that…..you know, there’s been a lot and he just….he doesn’t know how and where things had become a bit… complicated. He doesn’t really count.

“Well, my little dawn…baby, you see…” Satoru began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “A lot of it is just…. it’s a bit of a… long story.”

Satoshi tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “A long story? Like when we go to Grandma’s house?”

Satoru nodded, his mind still floundering for the right words. “Exactly like that, but, um, with more… magic.”

Satoshi’s eyes widened, and he leaned closer. “Magic? Did you use your special powers?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if there was a way to explain this that didn’t involve any, ahem, explicit details. “Well, it’s more like… a magical moment, little dawn.” he said, smiling nervously. “Because well….magic is magic!”

Satoshi looked thoughtful, then blinked. “Was it like when you make the cookies disappear?”

Satoru’s face turned a shade of red, and he tried to stifle a laugh. He doesn’t know how he was supposed to do this at all. “Uh, not exactly. More like… a really happy time when mama and papa were together, and, uh, we decided to have more family for big brother Megumi and big sister Tsumiki, you know?”

Satoshi nodded slowly, his tiny brow furrowing as he considered this. “So, you made cookies disappear and that’s how I got here?”

Satoru chuckled, a little relieved that Satoshi seemed satisfied with the vague explanation. “Sort of, yes. It’s a special kind of magic that’s, um, a bit different from making cookies disappear.”

Satoshi pondered this for a moment, then brightened. “Okay! Can we build a magic castle now?”

Satoru laughed, feeling a wave of relief. “Absolutely, let’s build the biggest magic castle ever!”

As Satoru helped Satoshi with the blocks, he couldn’t help but think that he had successfully dodged a bullet—or at least, he hoped he had. He glanced at the photo of you on the mantel and grinned, knowing that despite the complexities of parenthood, there were some things best left to the imagination.

When you arrived home, the late afternoon light was still spilling into the living room, casting a golden hue over the scene. You found Satoru and Satoshi surrounded by a sprawling fortress of colorful blocks, the little boy’s face alight with triumph as he declared his castle complete.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out, running over to greet you with his usual enthusiasm. “Look at the magic castle Papa and I built!”

You smiled, bending down to give him a hug. “It’s beautiful, Satoshi! I’m so proud of you.”

Satoru stood up, brushing the dust off his pants with a sheepish grin. He looked slightly relieved to see you, and he met your eyes with a hint of nervousness. You looked at him with curious eyes as he tried to take a deep breath. It was as though he was preparing himself to tell you something.

“Hey, baby.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him as you moved towards the kitchen. “How was your day with Satoshi?”

Satoru followed you, his expression a mix of amusement and apprehension. “It was good, but we had a little… conversation.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? About what?”

Satoru scratched the back of his neck, his face turning a bit red. “Well, Satoshi asked me how he was born….well, like not born. How…how he was made?”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening as you looked at him. “Oh, really? And how did you handle that?”

Satoru let out a nervous chuckle. “I tried to explain it with… magic. I told him it was like a special kind of magic and that it happened when mama and papa decided to have a family.”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Did he buy that?”

Satoru shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sort of. He thought it was like making cookies disappear, so I went along with it.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.You couldn’t stop to the point you were coughing. Satoru blushed, even his ears were red. “Cookies? That’s one way to put it.”

Satoru looked relieved to see you find the humor in the situation. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed satisfied, so I think we dodged a bullet.”

You walked over to Satoshi, who was now engrossed in a new block creation. You crouched down next to him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Satoshi, did papa tell you a magic story?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. “Yes! And we built a magic castle! Papa said it’s like magic cookies!”

You glanced at Satoru, who was trying to suppress a grin. “Well, that sounds like a fun story.”

Satoru walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I think we managed to keep things light, but I’m glad you’re home to handle the next round of questions.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. And next time, maybe we’ll keep the magic cookies out of the explanation.”

Satoru grinned, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Deal. Thanks for saving me from my own magical misadventures.”

You both chuckled, watching as Satoshi continued his block building, blissfully unaware of the parental confusion that had preceded his masterpiece.

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kinardsboy · 18 days ago

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This has been sitting on my mind a lot lately but it seems extra relevant now with the way Tommy and by extension Lou has been criticized for acting “too gay” in ep 5. And while yes, I will agree Tommy acted slightly different in ep 5, it has absolutely everything to do with Lou’s incredible acting choices to play Tommy differently when he is around people he deems as “safe” which is much better explained in this amazing post here <-

All these complains are doing is just yet again exposing buddies as homophobes who are, at the end of the day. Uncomfortable with real queerness being shown infront of them. Of course we already knew this with how they react to Buck and Tommy kissing and god forbid flirting especially if it has sexual implications like the daddy kink scene.

They can’t possibly fathom their precious uwu baby Buck would be sexual with another man so they spin and twist it however they can to make it out to be, “NO! You see! Tommy started the flirting! Tommy is just an insatiable horny gay man! He only wants sex! Like most of them do!”

Which is again spewing homophobic rhetoric, who wouldve guessed thats what they immediately turn to?

I now have something probably controversial to say but oh well, im going to say it anyway.

A good many of these shippers would be deeply uncomfortable with Buddie actually becoming canon, because they would be nothing like their fanfic. They don’t want to see two men in a relationship, they want to see Eddie in a relationship with the character they project themselves onto.

There are so many examples of this but perhaps the biggest being the way Buck is made out to be the “woman” in the relationship and especially how he is made to be the “mom”

Buck and Tommy’s relationship 1st does not have any children involved so there are no gendered roles to be assigned (even though if there was.. theyd just both be a dad), they are both beefy and the same height, which is what people usually use to decide “top” and “bottom” but again since there is little physical difference between them, they cannot do this, which only adds to their uncomfortableness.

Furthermore, I would go as far to say that Buddie shippers dont actually like Buck.

A while back a shipper posted this analysis of Buddie, that essentially reduces Buck to a dog. A pet. Only to be let out of the bedroom to cook and take care of Chris, otherwise he’s meant only for Eddie’s pleasure.

Which, disgusting. But the thing that stood out most to me was how Tommy was criticized for

letting Buck be himself. For accepting and loving him flaws and all. For not trying to change anything, or “train” the bad out of him

While Eddie was the “trainer” in that scenario, that had to train the bad out of Buck in order for him to be acceptable.

And thats the funny thing isnt it? Buddie shippers have to completely warp and destroy Buck’s character to make him fit their mold of perfect partner for Eddie. They make him out to be this helpless person who can’t even tell Tommy he doesnt want to be called Evan, that needs rescuing from Tommy, that is a “mother figure” to Chris, that his “dream role” would be live in chef and maid for the diaz family..

When none of that is Buck.

Buck is a smart, independent and strong man. He has worked tirelessly on himself to know who he is and what he wants, which right now? Is with Tommy.

Bringing it back to my main point, their complaints of Tommy being more gay and Bucktommy intimacy ultimately just boil down to homophobia plain and simple, seeing real queer representation and not representation that they can specifically twist and cater to themselves through fic, headcanons or gifs, makes them uncomfortable

(could this be why so many of them ignore shows with canon m/m ships for favor of shows with fanon ones that will never actually happen? So they can make these demands for representation then shit on it as soon as they get it because its not fanfic? Its not their fetish specifically catered to them? It actually represents real life queer men who they don’t actually like?)

#911 abc #tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #anti bobs #anti buddie #fandom when relationships dont play out like fanfics:🤯#fandom discourse #911 discourse #discourse

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thistlecatfics · 6 months ago

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Talking about Incest in Public

(both the painful traumatic kind and the hot fictional kind)

As it turns out, lots of the people who read and write taboo fiction have survived some deeply fucked up shit. After talking about incest with other survivors on the Moon, Sun & Stars discord and answering questions, I decided to share more about my experiences and the things that helped me survive and the things that helped me heal, because there are a lot of us, and a lot of us feel very alone, and maybe there are other people who aren’t incest survivors but who might want to know more to better support the survivors in their life.

–

Incest is not just a sexual act between two family members -- it's a larger system of absence of boundaries within a family, and it's almost always part of multiple incestuous dynamics, even if only one might be the obvious or explicit dynamic.

If you’re an incest survivor, you’re almost certainly not the only one in your family.

“The true characteristics and dimensions of incestuous abuse have been masked by the taboo and silence that have surrounded its occurrence. Recent research demonstrates that incest occurs regularly in our society, perpetrated by individuals who, for the most part, would otherwise be regarded as fairly normal. The taboo on incestuous relations is a deterrent to some would-be perpetrators but not to others. The taboo contradicts the reality of incest prevalence, a fact which led Armstrong (1978) to comment that th taboo has been on the open discussion of incest and not on its perpetration.”

-Christine Courtois, “Healing the Incest Wound: Adult Survivors in Therapy”

–

To use my family as an example -

My (similarly aged) brother did sexual things to me as a kid, and I had a range of reactions to it including pleasure and enjoyment. And confusion. And fear. I do not think he is bad or even what he did was bad. I think we were both two kids who existed in a family with incestuous dynamics, and we were both shaped by those dynamics and trying our best to survive.

From a young age, I existed as a physical comfort object to my mom (when she was sad she'd get into my bed to hold me until she felt better while I dissociated), and I took on the idea that my role in the family was for my body to be used to make other people feel good. The sexual behavior by my brother felt like an extension of how my mom held me.

My mother was the victim of incest from her uncle, and her parents sided with her uncle over her when she spoke out about it (even after he was facing legal consequences for his behavior with kids outside of the family) (even after he fled the country). She didn't know how to emotionally regulate herself, and I don't think she had (or has) the capacity to understand a child's need for physical autonomy and boundaries because her own were never respected.

There were other incestuous behaviors and dynamics within my family which I'm continuously discovering and unpacking. I think my mom’s uncle abused my grandmother too but I’ll never know for sure. It’s deeply uncomfortable to look back on a happy family story or a childhood nickname and see something sinister underneath and wonder if you’re being paranoid or if it’s actually that bad.

–

Things that have helped:

Long term relational therapy (5+ years). EMDR. Adopting a cat. Adopting more cats. Antidepressants. Reading about incest (realistic, terrifying, academic). Reading about incest (fictional, hot, amateur). Being a competitive athlete. Getting a graduate degree. Going on long walks late at night. Telling my family I had Covid so I could skip a family vacation.

These books specifically: Healing the Incest Wound by Christine Courtois, The Myth of Normal, Dissociation Made Simple, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, The Narcissistic Family Unit, Clementine Morrigan’s writing x1000.

The protector parts: Eating disorder. Self harm. Drinking. Perfectionism. Depression. Suicidal ideation. I’m grateful to these imperfect protectors I’ve leaned on over the years.

Things that have not helped:

You will be shocked to hear that people on the internet yelling about how people who find fictional incest hot are disgusting and bad and dangerous did NOT in fact help me unlearn the belief that experiencing incest made me disgusting and bad and dangerous. Luckily, I’m built of spite. But it certainly did not help.

(If I think about my vulnerable pre-teen/teen self reading those things, I become deeply angry. How dare you hurt her in the name of protection.)

- I don’t cater to all these vipers Dressed in empath’s clothing God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see

-Taylor Swift, But Daddy I Love Him

After I discovered fanfiction in middle school, and then after I realized that there was a world beyond OFC/Draco Malfoy fic, I read a lot of Blackcest. I devoured any I could find, hopping through rec lists on LiveJournal.

Reading Blackcest fics, first Bellatrix/Sirius then Sirius/Regulus mostly, allowed me to see my experiences reflected. Those fics gave me a way to contextualize my family and my role in it. I hate the expectation that kids who experience bad things should go to a safe trusted adult rather than find art that romanticizes their experience. The whole point is that there isn’t a safe trusted adult. The whole point is that I needed the art. I got to hold the romanticized narrative until I got far enough away that I could put it away in a box until I had enough therapy that I could safely open the box and build a new, more honest story.

Obviously plenty of people love incest smut and fic and art. It’s taboo! It’s angsty! It’s a classic! Probably most of those people don’t have direct personal experience with incest in their families. I’m glad they read and write fics too.

But for me – have you ever experienced something you believe so strongly you will never be able to say aloud? That any time you see your secret referenced it’s in shock and disgust and revulsion? You can pretend – you’re very good at pretending – but you know it’s real, and you know it’s your secret you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life while the world reminds you how disgusting you are?

Then you find that people are writing about what you experienced in a thousand variations that all contain some nugget of your truth.

I cannot express in words how important it was that I found those stories at that time.

I never commented on a single fic. I never made a single account on any of the sites I read fanfiction on. I clicked the “yes I’m 18” box without hesitation every time. I wish I could go back in time and have my adult self articulate the enormity of my gratitude for each and every author who helped save me whose work exists on sites I can only revisit with the Wayback Machine.

I understand why people might feel horrified at the idea of a 11-12 year old reading smutty incest Harry Potter fanfic. People aren’t wrong for feeling that way.

That said, I truly don’t care what people who aren’t incest survivors think.

I’m so proud of that child for finding a way to survive. She might have hated herself, might have fantasized about death, but she survived and kept the truth of her experience wrapped up in a fictional world where it could be safe to explore and kept it there until years and years of therapy made it possible to engage with it in reality.

- I’m a real tough kid I can handle my shit They said, babe, you got to fake it till you make it And I did

-Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart -

No one is writing about incest the way Clementine Morrigan is right now. I’m so grateful for her. I’m not sure this little tumblr post would exist without her essay series.

"Incest functions as a spell of unreality. A structure of nothingness. A completely normal and unremarkable family life in which something unnameable is ominously and terrifyingly wrong. You know in the summer when you can see the heat making the air go squiggly? Imagine those squiggles as an indication that in the seeming nothingness, there is something there. Incest is like that. Subtle, pervasive, unthinkable, unnameable. But present, felt.

As a teenager I came up with this metaphor: Imagine you are in a house full of bugs. There are bugs crawling all over all the walls and all the furniture and in your food and even on the fork you are lifting to your mouth. And you feel disgusted, you feel like something is really wrong. But your whole family is acting completely normal, laughing and eating and talking as bugs crawl over their faces and into their mouths. When you tell them you think there are bugs in your food your family says it’s just pepper and not to worry about it.

There is no way to talk about incest without feeling that you are lying. This is because incest lives in the realm of unreality and everything in the realm of unreality cannot be thought or said or named. When you speak of things that happen in the realm of unreality it will always feel like a lie and be treated like a lie. You are breaking the fundamental rule. You are not allowed to talk about what goes on in the realm of unreality because it isn’t real."

Read more and pay for her writing if you can on her substack.

Without a doubt, the not-explicitly-sexual incest from my mom fucked me up more than the explicitly sexual incest from my brother, but I only feel confident claiming the incest survivor label because sexual stuff was done to me by a family member, and I still feel like I’m lying sometimes because it wasn't bad enough to count.

I’m a literal mental health clinician who can map out various incestuous dynamics within my family and who has clear memories of a family member doing sexual stuff to my child body, and I still feel like I’m lying.

I believe you if you feel like a liar because I bet you do. I believe you if the incest never included anything directly physical. I believe you if you enjoyed it. I believe you if you don’t remember but feel like it’s true.

I love us.

If we’re monsters, I love our courageous monstrosity.

If we’re liars, I love the way we make up stories to survive when reality is impossible.

If we’re an uncomfortable truth, good.

It still impacts me. I’m not over it.

It’s very difficult for me to imagine love that does not include violation. To be loved and to be allowed to maintain a self.

But I’m open to learning otherwise, and that openness is new.

I was so, so good at living in unreality. I could make myself perfect, such a flawless object until I couldn’t think of anything except killing myself, but even then I still maintained the image of perfection my family expected.

It’s cool I never actually killed myself.

I find it hard to be around my family now. There are advantages of living in unreality. I drink a lot more when I’m around my family than I ever did before, but I don’t think about killing myself nearly as much. Reality is worth it. Being able to exist as a person is worth it.

- I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

-Sylvia Plath

- I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. (I insist.)

It didn’t kill me then. It’s not going to kill me now. (I remind myself.)

My life is worth living, and there are fights worth fighting, and it is undeniably true the world is full of horror, but it is good to write and create and be alive, and it is good to try. I’m a little afraid to post this, but the fear and shame isn’t mine to hold, and I never should have been the one holding it.

Consider this a thank you note sent out to the universe in the hopes the sentiment echoes towards those authors who saved me then and to all the writers who are saving people now. Your art matters. No matter how weird or niche or dismissed or hated it is. It matters.

Thank you.

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hey-u-weird · 1 month ago

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Yaelokre, boundaries and superfans

I didn’t actually want to reactivate this account, but as I watched the whole Yaelokre thing unfold I just wanted to say my 2 cents

Stating that you don’t want people to make nsfw of your characters is a completely fair thing to say, and it sucks that people aren’t respecting your feelings

but ultimately you can’t control what people do with your own characters and how they will interpret your work, you can’t control thoughts, feelings, triggers and boundaries other than your own

which brings me to the next bit: boundaries. What are they? They’re something for you to set up and control. A very valid boundary is saying things like “I’m extremely uncomfortable with erotic works of my characters, please don’t send it to me”

But that is not what Keath (Yaelokre) has done

Yaelokre has asked their majorly underage fans to go out of their way to send and to report them “inappropriate, offensive material and or misinfo” about their work.

This is incredibly unprofessional and dangerous, as they’re sending minors into adult spaces to report nsfw and to play vigilante and go “pedo hunting”, as if this is a fun thing minors can do as a hobby.

Sure, the artist most likely didn’t intend this to happen, and they didn’t specifically say minors should report nsfw media, but the post was seen by more than 90.000 people, so of course minors will take it as a call to action to “hunt” for it, bringing themselves in danger.

What’s worse, not only is Yaelokre abusing copyright laws (even if they registered their characters for copyright, other people can still create fan works of their characters under “fair use”), they have been completely silent about their fans’ behavior, essentially greenlighting harassment, violent and graphic threats being sent to anyone who is or might be upsetting Kaeth

TW // disturbing threats , mention of violence and genitalia mutilation

it’s really interesting, Yaelokre wants control over the fandom and people who make art, yet it is superfans who accuse people who made those (currently 6) erotic artworks and those who defend the right to make such art as unable to control themselves.

this begs the question, why isn’t the creator saying anything? Because they’re currently blocking everyone who even mentions those threats. This confirms Yaelokre is aware of what is happening, but they will not control their violent fan base because they’re helping them take control of their boundaries like “vigilantes”

And while these toxic superfans have only gone after the artworks of erotic nature which exist in the fandom, since the artist has stated that “misinfo and offensive material” also upsets them, it will only be a matter of time before even genuine, sfw only fans are going to feel the wrath of them eventually

Because as long as something exist that could make someone uncomfortable, it’s bad, which also raises the question why art is made at all then since any art can make someone uncomfortable

I would also like to mention that this is an incredibly toxic way of handling your own work. Original characters might be your own, but they are merely an extension of yourself and not you, nor your “children”. Yaelokre has implied that this mistreatment of their OCs is akin to actual child abuse. This will absolutely lead to people sending “offensive” art to child protection organizations too, hindering their job

And I completely understand how upsetting it is to see material you don’t like, many big and small artists have voiced their feelings about it, but this attempt to coercively control people who make art the or an artist doesn’t like will only lead to them crashing and burning out.

It is far easier to avoid nsfw, fanart/fanfics and pretend it doesn’t exist because you really can’t fight against it, once you make art for others, once your work is “famous” enough that it accumulates millions of subscribers and fans all over the world and go on tours, then it’s no longer your own little project

And if you can’t handle the responsibility of being tactful with your fandom (stop treating total strangers in the fandom like they’re your friends, they are NOT) and attempt to control them because your feelings were hurt, then maybe you should step back from social media, let someone else take care of it and focus on creating what you like away from all the triggering things that can upset you

and really though, was it really necessary to go nuclear over 6 pieces of erotic artwork?

needless to say however, please leave the artist alone. We can’t force them to see how damaging this behavior is to themselves and to the existence of (their) fandom as a whole, they’ll have to come to this realization themselves.

once you, as creator, attempt to sue someone for an idea, headcanons, theories or art you don’t like, then there will be no fandom left

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superectojazzmage · 1 year ago

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My Baldur’s Gate 3 hot take is that debates about whether or not Emperor Balduran is trustworthy or or not are a waste of time because a great deal of the point of the character — narratively and gameplay-wise — is that he’s an extension of you. YOU interpret and decide on his personality, nature, and choices the same way you do with your Tav.

If you want him to genuinely be the flawed and odd-thinking but ultimately noble and heroic “token good Mind Flayer” that he presents himself as, then he will be like that simply because you treat him as being such. He’ll be trustworthy and dependable, totally truthful about only wanting what’s best for Baldur’s Gate and about wanting to free the Illithids from Elder Brain control and make ceremorphosis a consensual choice, while also being open to compromise in the name of forging bonds. He’ll be the unlikely hero who, with you by his side, uses the Stones to destroy the Absolute and save his beloved city.

If you want him to be and treat him like a backstabbing, manipulative liar and potentially dangerous monster who is at best disconnected from basic reality, at worst a murderous narcissist trying to bend you to his will, then he’ll act like it. His interactions with be tense, snappish, and uncomfortable. He’ll threaten you, make unreasonable demands, never compromise, and try to assert control over the party while making clear that your alliance is one of convenience and necessity. And ultimately, he’ll either betray you and defect to the Absolute’s side because he can’t control you or, at your urging, hijack things and use the Absolute to take over the world.

His past is designed to be interpreted in massively different manners depending on what kind of person you want him to be. He killed Ansur either out of justified self defense because Ansur wouldn’t admit that Balduran was still himself beneath the changed form, or because Ansur was trying to stop his evil plans. He dominated Stelmane’s mind because she was a bad person and he wanted to turn the Knights of the Shield into something good, or because he’s an evil manipulator who dominates those he can’t charm. He withheld information from you because he was being cautious and wasn’t sure if you were going to be an ally (like your party members), or because he was manipulating you by making himself seem more sympathetic. He never freed Orpheus and doesn’t want to free him because as an Illithid he rightfully fears a Githyanki Prince and that freeing Orpheus will allow the Netherbrain to control him again, or because he’s an malevolent bastard who knows that Orpheus would ruin his plans. It’s up to you to decide.

He can change tune on a dime, make self-contradictory choices and statements, abruptly do things just because of something you decided to say because you wanted to see what would happen. Just like you do as a player, because he’s as much your PC as Tav. It’s why you get to customize the form he appears in your dreams with. The Emperor is good or evil or whatever depending on what you WANT or MAKE him to be.

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midnightstar-kpopsmut · 2 months ago

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Chapter III, Stick it

- I stayed there for a couple of seconds – said Cheongtae -. I didn’t really know what to do after Karina bluntly asked for my help. Maybe it’s not even that, not knowing what to do. Sometimes I am just moody. You know that from the outside I can look like a tall, muscular, confident guy, but I don’t need much to be thrown off guard. I don’t have that kind of fast smart like reaction that other guys have. So a few seconds of that can be quite uncomfortable for me. You know what I mean. I actually think I have many repressed thoughts, like why would I be uncomfortable, like ever? It’s not like I have a knife to my throat if someone says something strange to me, so there must be many memories and fears that arise to me in those kind of moments, or in this moment with Karina.

- He is just stupid – added Jimmy to the recollection of events -, but I didn’t want to say that to him or it would have took him two weeks to finish his story. So I just said in Korean “I feel you, keep going.”, which is very difficult to learn and I can’t teach you now, and he kept going.

I follow Karina on the sofa zone, she is leading me. I told you how the middle of the room is strangely down elevated, you gotta take one or maybe two steps down. That makes me notice that she is barefoot, I had took some slippers at the entrance, but she hasn’t any, not even socks. Barefoot. Not that I care, because I am not into feet, I don’t understand what’s the point of that. I am waiting for someone to explain it to me. Anyway. We get to the middle of all the sofas, I am waiting for us to sit, but instead she turns and faces me. She is distressed. Just a touch, but she is so pretty, so it is easy to notice. She looks at me straight into the eyes and says: - Can you... hide them?

“Hide them? Hide what?” I think. O right, her breasts. That’s what we were talking about just before. - How would I hide them? - I say.

- Can’t we do some shape that would draw the attention away from them?

I shake my head slightly. You can’t draw attention away from tits that just gained two sizes and are stretching out of closely fitted clothes.

She sees that I am not convinced. - Do I need longer extensions? - I look at her and say: - Don’t you have already some on? - No! - she quietly screams by protruding her lips – Those are mine. Who are you confusing me with?!

Like I told you I had not seen her for a few months. I get why she scolds me, I didn’t took it personal, she was looking out for competition. Idols can be so possessive of their look and team.

- The only thing that could hide them, I mean draw attention away, is maybe a bob cut. But I don’t think we can go for that without consulting the rest of your team. Especially Hansuk, I need her approval. - Hansuk is the head of the visual branch of Aespa, added Cheongtae to Jimmy, she coordinates make-up, hair and clothes. Not married, sharp, you should meet her. Jimmy wasn’t interested. So he kept pressing Cheongtae to hear the rest of the story.

- I am NOT getting a bob cut. That is horrid. What is that? The idiots that think they can get away with a bob cut in our industry... Shameful. - She took a step toward me. - Try something else.

I evaluate my options. She has indeed call me for something complex, as I had imagine. At least she doesn’t seem to want to get a real cut right now, just get a feeling of what we can do.

- Shouldn’t we go in another room? - I say -. One with a mirror... A chair?

- Why? - says Karina, concerned – Here it’s ok. You can sit. It’s very comfortable.

She gently sits down on the main sofa, tries to calm herself. I put myself on her right, what else can I do?

- Oppa, you look at us everyday. You see that this is a big... change.

She puts her hands on the air around her tits and moves them, to further highlight what she is talking about.

- Why did you do it if you don’t like them? - I add.

- Oh but I do like them – she replies -, I always wanted them big.

I nod, then realize I am nodding as a reflex, and dare to ask -... Why? Why do you like them?

She gets aggressive: - I don’t know. I feel like guys like them big... Don’t you?

- Sure. - I wasn’t lying. I wouldn’t say it is breast is what I think about first, but still. Big can be nice.

She keeps going: - But my fans... They can be so... limited. I am famous for being savage, powerful. Not cheap.

- I know – I say. She was right. Kpop groups go out with a very defined look in mind. It’s difficult to break out from it, even with different concepts, it is not something you should usually aim for.

She rapidly flutters her eyelashes at me and says: - Do I look... cheap?

- No, you don’t. - I promptly answer. She was as classy and expensive as always. There was just something in her crop top, the fluffy texture, that gave her more of “that kind” of look. And it arguably made her breast look even bigger. As if you had to touch them. A devilish loop. But there was no point to underline that, she would have changed her outfit completely for the comeback.

- I am Karina – she says -, not some stupid whore... - She takes her phone out of her pocket and says: - Let me show you.

She gets on youtube and starts typing and swiping, looking for a specific video. She finally finds it and turns it to me.

- Here, her. - She says while starting the video.

The video is a performance of Kiss of Life on Mnet, dating of the 24th of July. - Stick it. - I say.

Karina pauses the video and gives me a tap on my left leg: - It’s Sticky. Not Stick it. You are such a dog...- She presses play again.

I don’t know Kiss of Life much, but in this performance one of the fourth members was giving much more then the others, in my opinion. She is boldest, more defined and you could say just more... vulgar.

- You are looking at Natty, right? - Says Karina.

- I don’t know their names. – I reply.

- The one with the big tits.

- She has quite a character.

The video goes on, on the refrain you can hear “Sticky, Sticky, Sticky”, the four members all slam their asses, then squat, then rise up and bend forward while turning their head to the camera. But Natty improves on the choreography by keeping her mouth fully open while she shakes her ass. The camera clearly favors her.

Karina stops the video exactly at that point, with Natty wide open in front of my face.

I try to say something: - See, she has a bob cut – she indeed had one -. You look at her face more than her... body.

Karina’s face looks disgusted. - She is such a whore. She will never get it. Kpop is not just about making guys hard.

I agreed. While looking at Natty spreading her legs, looking down, opening her mouth... I am surely not focusing on the song.

Karina notices it: - Even you! Look at you! You are looking at her open mouth.

I try to bring back the discussion to our common interest, her own look: - You don’t need to do that. We can use a big bandana for you. The attention will stay on your face and you will look fierce.

- I am so pissed – says Karina -, you heard that I had to stop see my guy, right? While this slut does this on stage.

I remember that Karina was dating a hot Korean actor that she had met in Milan for some fashion event, she was then spotted in Seoul by paparazzi and had to apologize publicly. I had heard rumors that she was still seeing him, though.

Karina continues: - If I get ANY hate for my boobs... I swear, I’ll kill someone.

She starts swiping again on her phone.

- This was the maximum I was allowed to do on stage.

The new video is a snippet from a performance of Next Level, one of Aespa biggest songs. Karina press play.

In the video, while the aggressive rhythm fills the venue, the four Aespa members bends forward, and Karina gently hits Winter’s ass with her hand,

On her living room Karina follows the video and hums: - Next level wa... - she taps my leg again, while the clip plays for a second time.

Then I don’t know if it is because we are not having a lot of sex with my wife, you often told me I should fuck her more, since she is pretty and all, but you know how it is with her, or because I am tensed with the whole idea of having to do an urgent work for Karina, plus the videos of course... Well, I start to stiffen in my pants.

The second play-through of the video ends, but Karina’s hand stays on my left leg. I can’t really brush her off, that wouldn’t be polite.

- Oppa – she says-, do you think I should get rid of this savage style? Be like Natty, just go... all in?

- You should do whatever you like. - I say, like an idiot.

- Oh, really... - She replies with a tone.

Karina slightly moves her fingers on my inner, left, tight. My dick is slowly and luckily growing to the right. My pants are large, so it stays barely perceptible.

She keeps adding – Maybe if I change my stile once and for all they will let me date. I kind of miss him. He is very, very horny. - She looks in my eyes to see how I react. Then looks at herself and says: - He is always looking at my big tits...

And there it is. At that point I get tired of this whole bullshit. This calling me on the middle of the afternoon to work on her hair, the long list of complaints, the talking to me about her boyfriend... I can’t take it anymore and jump on her.

I grab her small head and enormous mass of hair with my hand and throw my head at her lips. I am not that aggressive usually, but she had really annoyed me. So...

She can barely breath through the kiss, I don’t let her. She aggressively taps my leg with her hand, so I relax the kiss and grab her tits in response.

- Oppa!! - she says like a surprised kid – What are you doing?

Obviously I don’t stop. She is just acting up.

- This is not very professional... Even Jae doesn’t go this fast...

Right, Jae-wook. That’s the name of her actor boyfriend.

I grab Karina’s hand and move it to my now hard dick. She starts to squeeze it through the pants.

- Why are you in such a rush – says Karina-, I thought you needed more time...

- More time for what? - I ask, even though I hopes for her to shut up.

- To cheat on your pretty wife... - she says.

- Oh, fuck off. - I stand up and raise her light body with a finger. Then bend her to the head of the sofa and start pushing against her ass. We are still both clothed.

- I thought you liked my face, all those time you looked at me at your shop... Guess I was wrong!

I remove her cargo pants and underwear in a single movement. Then my own pants.

She is wet enough, and I am not in the mood to waste more time to make it comfortable for her. I grab my dick and push it in.

Now that I am fucking her, she has finally stopped talking. She gracefully arch her back to me, you can see that all the Kpop training is paying off. I should not be doing this, but then again who cares, I am not the first of the team that has fucked one of the idols, as you know this is more common than people can imagine. Their job is hard, and we all need to relax.

She slightly pushes her body against me. Her hips, previously enhanced by the cargo pants, are quite fragile. I grab them with my hands and slam her in response. She squeak.

Feeling my rhythm settling Karina pushes me harder, she wants more of the slams, but I am not ready to give it to her. To make her point she flaunts her thick, dark and long hair. I look at them, they are quite imposing. I have trimmed and reshaped those hair to perfection dozen of times. Watching them moving from behind is quite a spectacle. I stiffen. Karina groans and pushes. It is like fucking a lion. I get even harder.

- Oppa – she says-, you are so big...

I am surely bigger than normal. And I am quite proud of it. - Not only for a Korean – adds Jimmy -, he is bigger than a western guy as well.

I push my fully hardened dick inside her and say: - Isn’t it too big? My wife says it hurts her sometimes...

- Oppa... Your wife doesn’t like your huge dick? - She says while turning her head to me. - How is that possible, I like it so much... - her cunt contracts.

- She says she hits her at the end and it hurts. - I add.

- Then it’s not really cheating... - Karina says, closing her eyes – She can keep your bored, sloppy dick...

She touches my right hand on her waist and adds: - I’ll take the huge horse cock of yours... It goes so well with my big tits...

I instantly bend forward and grab her new big breasts through her soft crop top. I bury my head into her cascade of dark hair. My dick is now swelling in pain. The rhythm through which I slam it inside Karina rapidly intensifies.

- Oppa... You are going too fast... - she says.

I don’t answer and cover her mouth with one of the hands.

She frees herself from it and says: - Be careful... you don’t want to make me pregnant.

- What? - I ask while leaving her tits and putting myself straight up again – You don’t take the pill?

- I don’t take anything! - she says, while still pushing her ass and body against me. - Those shit are not good for your skin. But keep going... Tell me when you are almost there...

We keep pushing for a few more seconds, at that point I am almost done, who wouldn’t and I let her know.

- Wait for me... - says Karina. She pushes me out of her, puts herself on her knees in front of the sofa and grabs my dick with her two hands. - You can finish on my face.

I am almost there. She looks at me with her big, dreamy eyes and says: - Oppa, do you like my... - but then I explode into her face. Which at least makes both her eyes and mouth close shut. She keeps stroking my dick in silence. Her face is covered with my full built up of load.

There is one main river of sperm, the thickest one, that goes through her lips. A second, smaller one, deviates left on her cheek. Multiple other droplets constellate the rest of her face, which she has masterfully bended back to avoid staining her eyes.

Karina keeps her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sperm on her face.

While looking at her I realize that, even through my numerous sexual encounters, I had never seen something so beautiful. It must have been the makeup, or the hair, or whatever else. Strangely enough, I had never had sex with an idol before.

Karina’s face looks like a painting.

That’s when I reach for my pants, specifically for the phone in my pocket. Karina thinks that I want to go and complains cutely. I give a pump of blood to my dick, so that it will look good on the picture. Karina feels it getting bigger into her hands and smile, still with her eyes closed. Resting like a diligent worker on her break.

I take the picture, put my phone away, and rise my pants.

She opens her eyes and throw herself into the couch.

- I should go – I say. Then I notice her horny look on her face and add: – Did you come?

- No, sorry – she says -. I think I need something more. To come, I mean.

- Yes, I get it. - I answer. What else could I have said? I didn’t have anything more than that to give. And it was also getting pretty late. Girls very often cannot get excited by sex alone, they need feelings, something like that. I said to myself that it must be the same for Karina.

I act with care and help her clean her face with a napkin. I am her employee after all. She doesn’t want me or her to go to the toilet to wash up though, strange.

Instead she grabs a soda from her fridge and rushes me off the apartment. Out in the hot city of Seoul.

- That is how Cheongtae told me he got this picture. - Said Jimmy. The American looked at him, wanting to know more.

- What did you say was your name, again? - Added Jimmy.

- Steven – said the American, that we can now call by his name -, my name is Steven, but you can call me Steve.

Jimmy waited for Steve’s question, which arrived after a few seconds: - Can I talk with Cheongtae? I’d really want to know more about his work in Kpop, it would help me for my job here as well.

- Well, that would be nice – said Jimmy -, very nice. Problem is Cheongtae told me this story one week ago, it had just happened, and I can’t get in contact with him since then.

- What do you mean, you can’t get in contact? - Asked Steven.

- What I mean is, that Cheongtae has disappeared. We are quite close. But I don’t know where he is.

At that Steven didn’t had an immediate follow up question. So we will have to wait and see for the next chapter to know more about his own train of thoughts.

#fanfic #karina #kpop smut #kpopsmut #kpop

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kp-alice · 13 days ago

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Red Light, No Entry | Hyung line

Summary: sub!Ateez scenarios about you/them stopping a scene

Word count: 7 394

Warnings: written at the beginning of each member's scenario, other than that just general awkwardness and misunderstandings

A/N: This post is the sixth and last part of my Kinktober 2024 series! You can find the masterlist for it here.

A/N 2: Since the fic got quite long, this is only the first half - you can expect the maknae line version soon!

Hongjoong (cnc, hongjoong pretends to be in distress, pegging, a few tears)

The moment Hongjoong asked you to try consensual non-consent, you were both wary and excited. On one hand, you'd already dabbled in quite a few rougher sessions, all of which you'd come to enjoy a lot. Not to mention how he always made sure to reassure you the whole way through, proving it really was just a form of stress relief for him and he wasn't actually uncomfortable.

But now, most of that reassurance would be taken away. Hongjoong wanted to feel small and helpless, to not have any other choice but to take what you'd give him. He found it freeing, knowing he could abandon his leader persona for a moment and just trust you to make all the choices for him. And with the added pretense of not being on board, he could thrive in the almost dangerous dominance emanating from you, in the feeling of being so desired you couldn't help but pounce on him. And hey, worst-case scenario, he could always use his safeword, right? Not to mention the extensive preparations you both made for this scene, discussing any potential boundaries and turn-offs.

And yet, now that you were finally here, you couldn't help but feel massively underprepared anyway.

Hongjoong was on all fours, tightly gripping the pillow his face was buried in while you pounded him from behind. Despite said pillow, you could still hear his muffled protests, whines, and whimpers, growing more desperate by the minute.

You made sure to hold him firmly by the hips, playing your part in the play-pretend scenario of using him solely for your pleasure. Whenever he made another haphazard attempt to get away from you, you were right there to pull him back on your strap, pushing him into the mattress to make him stay.

At first, everything was fine. Intense, but doable. Every now and then, a sound or a jolt from your boyfriend would startle you a bit, but each time, you'd just try to remember the countless times you'd rehearsed and discussed this to remind yourself it was all fake.

However, as time went on, that certainty steadily chipped away.

The pained and desperate noises you were pushing out of Hongjoong started to sound a little too desperate, and the tremble setting into his limbs sure wasn't helping either. You kept trying to tell yourself he would use his safeword if he needed to, but what if he forgot? What if he was stubbornly pushing himself to enjoy what he'd suggested, or worse, because he was scared to let you down? What if he was simply too deep in subspace that he didn't know how to get out of it anymore?

"What's your color, babe?" You panted into his ear as you leaned down, getting a whimpered "Green!" in return.

And yet, you still weren't convinced. After all, how could you be when the more he pretended to struggle, the more you started to feel as if you were actually hurting him? Sure, your main focus was on securing Hongjoong's safety and comfort, but have you stopped to consider your own feelings as well?

"Oh god," Hongjoong sniffled out a few seconds after your check-in, voice watery from the way you were jostling him around. "It's too much Y/N, I really can't! Please, no more!"

Perhaps he was just trying to immerse himself back into the scene after your question, but the moment he lifted his head from the pillow to beg, revealing the tear-stained pillowcase, you knew you were done.

"Baby, red," your voice cut clear through the hot air.

"Wh-what?" Hongjoong stumbled out dumbly, looking back at you in confusion. He was met with your sorry frown, one of your hands sliding down to smooth circles across his lower back before carefully pulling out of him. He wanted to whine at the sudden emptiness, but something told him he probably shouldn't make this about himself right now.

Gingerly, you grabbed his waist and flipped him over, making sure he was lying comfortably. "I'm sorry hun, but I don't think I can push through this one. You know I don't mind roughing you up one bit, but when I don't have the usual reassurance you give me throughout sex, it makes me feel like I'm actually hurting you."

Hongjoong pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes growing wide at your words. "But love, I said beforehand that I'd only be pretending, I even told you I was green when you'd asked! You didn't hurt me in any way, I promise."

You sighed, though a small smile still made its way onto your lips. "I know, babe, but even then, your acting started to feel a little too real. I mean, look at you, you literally have tears in your eyes," you said as you wiped his damp cheeks. "And I know you sometimes tear up even during milder scenes, but there I'm always sure you're actually enjoying yourself."

Hongjoong pondered your words, looking to the side with a serious expression.

"I'm still completely fine with throwing you around and punishing you when you get bratty, and hey, maybe we can try again another time in a more relaxed, beginner-friendly way, but for now, I want to be 100% sure you're on board with everything I'm doing."

After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh, wordlessly nodding as he shuffled onto his side and beckoned you over with open arms.

You took him up on the offer in a heartbeat, wanting nothing more than to hold your precious boyfriend and ease any remaining guilt you felt. Trying your best to work around the awkward slotting of your harness against him, you let yourself be wrapped up in his embrace.

"It's okay, love, I understand," Hongjoong began, giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I know it won't change your mind right now, but please believe me when I say I really did like this a lot. I always tell you right away when I get even a little uncomfortable, you know that."

You hummed in agreement at his words, tucking your cheek further into his chest as your finger traced the tattoo on his arm.

"That being said, we can absolutely stop for today if you're not feeling it anymore. I thought this might be something fun and new for us to try, but it's also something I can absolutely do without, trust me. As much as you care about my comfort, I care about yours."

"...so you wouldn't be opposed to this turning into some soft, sappy lovemaking instead?" You asked with a shy smile, looking up to meet his loving gaze.

With a giddy laugh, he shook his head before getting up to straddle your lap. Cupping your cheeks with his warm hands, he swooped down for a big, fat smooch.

"Never."

Seonghwa (doing stuff in public, plugs, seonghwa spirals for a second)

For the longest time now, Seonghwa had been wanting to do something in public. You were unsure at first, considering how private the two of you were about your sex life. He insisted, though, claiming this would be different since no one around you would actually know what was happening. And so, the two of you agreed to try.

A few days later, you were getting ready for an outing with his friends and their partners. Deciding that this was a good opportunity for your little adventure, Seonghwa came up to you with a small, vibrating plug you sometimes used on him. Resisting the urge to take him right then and there with the way he bent over for you so prettily, you helped him put the toy inside. You hadn't even turned it on yet, but your boyfriend was already buzzing with excitement by the time you left your apartment.

But as the two of you arrived at the bar for the night, that excitement turned to something different. A vague unease, of sorts.

You could tell Seonghwa was nervous as he sat down at the far end corner of the booth, quietly eyeing the place as he stuck close to you. Grabbing his thigh, you successfully got his attention again, though not without a small, surprised flinch.

"Are you still okay with doing this, hun?" You asked tentatively, giving him an inquisitive look. Seonghwa gave you a soft smile, resting his slightly clammy hand atop yours. "Of course, whenever you're ready."

Truth be told, Seonghwa wasn't as sure about this as he had claimed to be. In his head, the idea always sounded so hot, being claimed by you in such an intense way with people around. Not to mention the thrill of sharing such a dirty secret between you, making him feel giddy at the added layer of intimacy.

But now, as the plug pressed against him from the inside every time he shifted around, the arousal and excitement he was expecting never really came. Instead, as he watched his friends gather around and chat, he started to feel dirty, and not in a good way. Every time his gaze flicked to someone's face, he could feel a strange churn in his stomach, a mix of shame and guilt swirling around inside. Everyone else thought this was just a normal, fun hangout with friends, so why did he have to bring his own twisted desires into it and force it upon them? And what was worse, despite his adamantly disagreeing brain, he still couldn't help but get aroused, cock starting to strain in his slacks and making him feel that much dirtier.

He couldn't do this. The wish to indulge his perversion just wasn't worth disrespecting his friends like this. They all looked so happy and unassuming and to think he'd even do something like this to them- oh god, he was starting to spiral.

You, on the other hand, either didn't notice his awkwardness or pretended not to, too busy talking to San's partner next to you to pay too much attention to him. You didn't turn on the plug right away either, deciding to wait a bit to surprise him instead.

The entire time you were chatting away with the others, Seonghwa watched you in anxious silence, ogling the small remote you were holding under the table. Waiting. He was feverishly contemplating whether to stop you now, to end the scene before it could even properly begin, but with all the stress and anxiety coursing through him, he couldn't help but freeze instead. You looked like you were having so much fun, and he didn't want to interrupt that by complaining about the thing he himself had brought up.

Clenching his fists in his lap, he tried to will his slowly rising hard-on down, but to no avail. As humiliating as his situation was, his body was reacting anyway. Maybe the humiliation even helped in some twisted way, who knows. He wouldn't be surprised, given how much of a gross pervert he was already-

He was brought out of his frantic thoughts when he saw your hand twitch. The movement was almost unnoticeable, but given how closely he was staring at your hand already, dreading this exact situation, it woke him up in record time. While you were laughing along at something Yunho had just said, he watched in slow motion as your thumb inched towards the small "On" button. There was genuine fear in his chest now, feeling as though he could only watch and not intervene, too small to do anything.

Until you hovered directly over the button and Seonghwa's body seemingly moved on its own.

His hand snapped forward to grab your wrist, almost making you drop the remote in surprise. His grip was tight, though you could feel a slight tremor in it as he held onto you.

Turning to look at him, your teasing smile quickly fell as you finally noticed his wide, shaky eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Your words came out hushed so as to not alert anyone beside the two of you, and yet the calming effect it had on Seonghwa was immediate. Despite his hold on your wrist staying firm, his shoulders noticeably relaxed, allowing him to let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"I- I," Seonghwa gulped, eyes glazing over slightly as all the suppressed tension suddenly released from his body, "I'm scared."

Your own chest tightened at that, moving your free hand to rest over his as you gave him a worried pout. "Do you want to wait a bit longer or should we just stop altogether?"

There wasn't a moment of hesitation before your boyfriend chose the latter, relieved when you immediately agreed. Putting the remote away, you stood up and quickly excused the two of you, lying about needing fresh air due to a headache. In times like these, you really were a lifesaver.

After shuffling out of the booth together, with Seonghwa holding your bag in front of his crotch as inconspicuously as he could, you headed straight for the bathroom. You waited for him outside while he took care of the toy, letting him borrow your handbag so that he had somewhere to put it.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, and outside stepped a considerably red but much calmer-looking Seonghwa. He sheepishly handed you your bag back before digging around his coat pockets, only to fish out a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

"How dumb of me to think they'd have paper towels in there instead of hand dryers. Now my hands are gonna feel gross for the rest of the night," he huffed half upset, half to ease the slightly awkward tension between the two of you.

"Yeah, I'm afraid we can't do much about that, baby," you replied sympathetically. "But besides that, you good?"

His blush deepened at your question, lips pressing together nervously. "Ah, uh, yeah, everything's fine. I guess I just expected this to feel a lot more fun and a lot less disrespectful. I couldn't look anyone in the eyes I felt so bad." He let out a small chuckle at the end, but you could tell he was more disappointed than anything. Whether in himself or the situation altogether, you didn't know.

You hummed in understanding, drawing closer to him as you put your hand on his arm. "It's okay, love, you didn't mean to disrespect anyone. And it's not like they had any idea, anyway. They won't be hurt by this, I promise. The only thing that happened tonight was that we figured out another boundary to be mindful of in the future."

We. Oh, how he loved that you said that. It was a small choice of words, and yet, in this situation, it meant the world to him. This wasn't him fucking up and being a terrible person, you were in this together and it really wasn't that big of a deal. Well, it was a big enough deal to make him never want to do this again, but as for this one-time mess-up, it really wasn't worth beating himself up over it.

"So, you ready to head back?" You took a step forward, offering him your hand.

He smiled sheepishly, lowering his gaze to your outstretched hand before enveloping it in his own.

"Of course, whenever you're ready."

Yunho (pet play, cfnm, collars and leashes)

Considering everything else up until now, it only made sense for the two of you to try this.

No matter who Yunho talked to, sooner or later, his behavior would be compared to that of a dog, or, more accurately, a puppy. He really liked the comparison, especially whenever you made it - including in the bedroom. Not to mention how he tended to refer to himself as Puppy too whenever he happened to fall a little too deep into subspace.

"Mmh, Puppy's gonna- Puppy needs-", "Please keep going, Puppy can take it, Puppy wants to be good for you!"

And so, one evening after an hour of passionate lovemaking where Yunho had once again slipped a bit too deep, the topic of his beloved pet name came up once more. Sooner or later, the conversation turned to pet play, with both of you agreeing to try it out to see if it would suit you. The two of you discussed in great detail both what you were curious about and what you wanted to avoid, snuggling even closer together at the exciting plans for the future.

No specific date was set, both to keep Yunho on his toes and to make everything feel more spontaneous. Nervous yet hopeful, he had no choice but to wait for you to initiate.

By the time Thursday rolled around, Yunho had partially forgotten about your promise, both because he didn't want to pressure either of you and because he was so caught up with work that he was glad his mind got any rest at all these days. And even though the big project he'd been working on was finally finished today and he could rest for a few days, he was still so mentally spent he had no energy to celebrate anymore.

Which is exactly why you picked Thursday as the day, since you knew your boyfriend could really use some time off from all the working and thinking. Not to mention you both had Friday off, meaning you had all the time to take this at your own pace.

Yunho quietly shuffled into your shared apartment, turning around to take off his coat and shoes. Putting everything away, he sluggishly turned back to face the hallway, only to startle as you suddenly appeared before him.

"Hey there," you smiled. "Long day at work, huh?"

Yunho blinked away his shock for a moment but smiled nonetheless, nodding softly. "Yeah, I feel like I'm too tired to even speak at this point."

To his surprise, his response only made you smile wider.

"Good things puppies don't need to speak then, right?"

Oh.

You could see the succession of emotions flicker in your lover's eyes - confusion, realization, shock, excitement, nervousness, lust.

"Wait, are we really-"

You shushed him with a finger against his lips, tutting softly. "What did I just say, hm? No speaking, Pup. Not unless it's your safeword or something absolutely necessary. Got it?"

After processing your words for a second, all Yunho could do was nod meekly, meeting your gaze with his unsure one.

Your finger on his lips trailed to his cheek as you gently cupped it, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. "Good boy. Now come on, let's get these off."

Yunho stayed still for you while you pulled his sweater over his head, fixing his hair with a small giggle as you let the garment fall to the ground. You'd worry about that later.

His pants soon followed, and so did his boxers. You helped him step out of the fabric pooling around his ankles before grabbing one of his legs. He leaned against your shoulders for support as you took off his sock, setting his leg back down before repeating the same process with the other.

Just like that, Yunho was left completely bare before your still fully clothed form. Something about that contrast made him shiver, made him feel so much smaller than you despite your actual size difference.

It only took a small push on his shoulder to get him to kneel on the floor, looking up at you with nothing but trust and devotion.

"Now, Puppy," you began, not missing the chill running down his spine at the pet name, "there's one more thing we gotta do before we can really begin. Do you know what that is?"

Yunho shook his head no, eyeing you curiously.

You walked around him to where your coats and jackets hung by the door. You picked up a jacket, and Yunho could immediately see something hiding in one of its pockets. He knew what it was even before you had the chance to pull it out.

A collar.

A collar and a leash, to be exact.

"Now, I didn't get you a custom one or anything since we're just trying this out," you explained as you crouched down in front of him, "but if we do end up enjoying this, I'd love to get my puppy one that's made just for him. Would you like that, hun?"

It would appear Yunho was especially slow with responses today, too busy slipping into a different type of daze with each of your words and actions. He was scared to nod his head again since you were putting the collar on him right now, so a small whine had to do. Hopefully, you got the message.

The silent tension as you fixed the collar around his neck was broken with a final click! as you attached the leash to the front, completing the look you'd decided on for tonight. Making sure the collar wasn't too tight, you stuck two fingers under it, surprised to feel Yunho's racing pulse as well. He sure knows how to put on a calm facade.

Standing up on your feet again, you ignored the popping of your knees and straightened up with a small huff. You could only hope Yunho's knees would be more durable than yours.

"Look at you, my pretty pup," you cooed, leaning down to ruffle his hair a bit. "You're too cute to stay out here by the door, don't you think? Come, you deserve a snack for being such a good boy."

And with that, you began walking, leash in hand.

...Only to stop after two steps, feeling said leash tugging your hand back.

You staggered a bit but quickly regained balance, turning around with a raised brow. "Come on Puppy, what did I just say? So much for calling you a good boy when you can't even follow your owner."

Despite your disappointed tone, you were more worried than anything. You looked your boyfriend up and down, looking for any signs of discomfort, but found none. Although his eyes looked a bit hesitant, the steadily growing sight between his legs hinted that was more from the unfamiliarity of the situation rather than actual unease.

Before you could prod him any further, Yunho gingerly leaned forward, placing both palms on the hallway floor. Slowly, shyly even, he began crawling after you.

You watched the muscles in his back move as he clumsily approached you, not even bothering to sit again as his head hung low. "There's my good boy. You're doing so well!" You praised him earnestly, hoping to ease any potential embarrassment he might be feeling. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, after all.

Tugging on his leash again, you finally got him to crawl with you into the kitchen, where you pulled out a chair from the dining table.

Yunho, as expected, stayed on the ground. Just like before, he stayed on all fours, solidifying your decision to get him some knee pads if you were ever going to do this again.

Grabbing a small bowl of frosted wheats you'd prepared in advance, you sat down in front of him.

"Sit."

The command was simple enough for Yunho to follow almost immediately, showing his slightly red knees.

Happy with his fast response, you ruffled his head encouragingly. "Good boy! Here you go."

His eyes flicked up at your words, not expecting to see your hand outstretched with a single piece of cereal in it. His arms twitched as he wanted to grab it himself but quickly stopped at the pointed look in your eyes. The blush on his face grew even deeper as he realized what you wanted from him, lips tightly pressing together in embarrassment.

Nevertheless, he obeyed.

Shuffling forward the slightest bit, Yunho's eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his mouth to the "treat". A moment later, you felt his lips touch your palm for just a split second before retreating again, the small square peeking out from between them.

You watched as he ate it, waiting to give him his next command.

"Down."

A small whine left Yunho at your order, along with a pout settling on his still-red face. He was quite literally giving you puppy eyes.

You just tutted at him in disapproval, gently tugging at his leash to remind him who was in charge.

"Only good boys get treats, Pup, come on. Down."

With his bottom lip still jutting out and his brows furrowed, he finally did as you said, lowering himself to rest his forearms against the cold kitchen tiles.

"There you go! Good boy," you praised him again, letting him sit back up before handing him another piece of cereal. He took it into his mouth with no hesitation this time, and you were pleased to see him getting used to his new role.

Until you got to your next command, that was.

As you watched Yunho swallow his second treat, you opened your mouth to give him the order you were looking forward to the most:

"Speak."

Like the flip of a switch, you could see all of the tension and hesitance return to his body at once. His hands fidgeted in his lap, eyes refusing to look anywhere but the floor.

"Puppy," you spoke in a warning tone, drawing a small whimper from the man before you. "Why are you being so difficult? You know what to do."

Taking a few shallow breaths, Yunho seemed to be steeling himself for something. You watched as he took another, longer breath, chest rising as he looked at you with determination - only to crumble again immediately.

"What is it, hun?" You asked gently, leaning down to pet his hair comfortingly. "Come on, you can do it. This is the last one and then we're gonna move on to something else, okay?"

You thought he'd agree, that this was just one of those moments of uncertainty where your boyfriend needed to be reassured before you could continue.

But, to your surprise, he shook his head.

Worry flooded your heart this time, making your chest tighten. The hand in his hair slipped down to his chin, gently tipping it up to make him look at you. But as he finally met your gaze again, you were met with an even more unsure set of puppy eyes than before.

"Oh honey, what's wrong? Is this too much?"

Hesitantly, Yunho nodded.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" he took a deep breath, curling in on himself slightly, "it's weird, I can't do it."

"What's weird?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I- I thought I'd like this- and some of it I do, really! The collar, the leash, the crawling around, the way you were talking to me, all of it was nice in itself, but when it's all combined like this and I can't even talk to you properly, it just..."

You waited for him to continue, but nothing. "'It just' what?" You softly prodded further, voice coming out in almost a whisper.

Yunho let out another conflicted sigh, pressing his cheek down against your thigh.

"It just feels too dehumanizing," he admitted at last. "And, like, I guess that's the intended effect, but, I don't know. I guess I still need to feel at least a little human even when you treat me like a dog, as confusing as that is. Less barking, more talking, so to speak."

You chuckled at his simplified explanation, making him smile as well.

"I mean, we're still going to need to discuss this later to make sure I know exactly what you mean and want," you began, "but I think I understand it well enough for now. And I'm sorry if I pushed you too far, you could have stopped me way sooner."

"It's okay," Yunho hummed. "We planned all of this together so I knew what to expect. I just needed a bit to decide if I liked it or not, and what exactly I didn't like about it."

You nodded at his explanation, silently petting his hair.

"Well," you spoke up again, making Yunho raise his head from your lap, "I think we should end it here, then - for today, at least. What do you want to do instead? Do you want to take this to the bedroom and do something more familiar, or do you want me to go get your clothes and just stop altogether?"

Yunho weighed his options for a minute, eyebrows furrowing together in concentration.

"Would you be upset if I said I wanted to stop completely?" He sheepishly asked, worried you would take it the wrong way. "Not because you did something bad or anything, I just feel a bit more soft than spicy at the moment."

To his relief, you just chuckled, leaning closer to remove his collar along with the leash. "Of course I won't be upset, Yuyu. Tonight is meant to be about you, to help you relax after all the work you've had to do lately. I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you wouldn't mind cuddling on the couch while we finish that box of cereal on the table?"

"I'd love that."

Yeosang - (mirror sex, body insecurities)

You were lying under the covers, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling while you waited for your boyfriend to get ready for bed. You had no problem staying up for him since he was usually rather quick. This time, however, you were beginning to grow impatient, seeing you'd already been waiting almost double the normal time.

Ten more minutes stretched on, steadily adding to your irritation. You'd already called out to Yeosang once to hurry up, only getting a startled "Y-yeah! Just give me a minute!" in return.

Even after said minute, though, your boyfriend seemed nowhere near done. The shower wasn't even running anymore, having been turned off a good while ago. Just what was he doing in there?

Having had enough, you got up with a huff, stomping over to the door again. As expected, it was unlocked. Yeosang didn't really bother with locking it since you never came in unless it was an emergency.

"Yeo, I'm going in, this is getting ridiculous," you announced as you began opening the door. It had been a while since he'd finished showering anyway, so you shouldn't walk in on anything too crazy.

It would appear that your presence was still rather unwelcome, though, as Yeosang squeaked out a jumbled mess of stuttered protests at the door creaking open. And yet, he made no real effort to keep you out, likely too surprised to react in time.

Your brows furrowed as you took in the sight of him, standing before the mirror in nothing but his boxers and arms shielding his chest. "What are you doing?"

Yeosang froze at your question, frantically searching for an answer. "I- I, uh, I was just... looking?"

"At what? Yourself?"

When he sheepishly nodded, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Hun, it's been like fifteen minutes since the shower's turned off. Don't tell me you've been standing here this whole time."

His silence was enough of a response.

"Yeo," you sighed, closing the door behind you before walking over to where he stood.

He stayed quiet as you appeared next to him in the mirror's reflection, avoiding both your and his eyes. Soft arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

"You should get dressed, love," you murmured against his shoulder before giving it a small kiss. "It's too cold in here."

Once again, he nodded wordlessly, looking around for his pajama shirt, only to find you already offering it to him. You helped him put it on, and he had to admit, the shirt did make him a lot more comfortable for a multitude of reasons.

"So what were you doing in here, hm?" You asked again, and Yeosang inwardly sighed. He should have known you wouldn't give up so easily. "You said you were looking at yourself, but why? What is there to examine so thoroughly?"

You tried to speak lightly, not wanting the atmosphere to get too serious and make Yeosang feel too exposed. Or not more than he'd already been, rather.

"I, um," he began, unsure of how to put all the bad thoughts raging in his head into words, "I don't know. I just feel like I've gotten worse, somehow? Like the reflection in front of me isn't exactly what I remember it to be."

Ah. Now you understood.

"Honey..." you called out to him softly, opening your arms to invite Yeosang into your embrace.

This wasn't exactly a new state for Yeosang, as you'd found him in similar headspaces in the past. Ones where despite his incredible looks and physique, he couldn't quite see them for himself anymore, feeling a vague sense of deterioration instead.

You'd do your best to console him, of course, and with enough patience and effort, it always worked, nurturing your boyfriend back into his happy, confident mindset. And so, you didn't let his defeated words deter you, knowing you'd get him right back on his feet again in no time.

You could feel some of the tension release from his shoulders as he melted into you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers brushed through his soft hair. Your other hand slowly slid up his shirt, giving him ample time to stop you just in case, but he let you keep going. You came to a stop at his shoulder blades, feeling around the expanse of his back before giving him light scratches. The touch made him shudder in your hold, sighing contently into your skin and making you smile in return.

"I know you probably won't believe me right now," you began in a hushed voice, "which is already crazy to me because you know that I'd never, ever lie to you about something like this," Yeosang nodded into the crook of your neck, signaling to you that he was listening, "but please believe me when I tell you that nothing's different about you. You are, were, and will always be my handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking piece of art of a boyfriend."

Yeosang shifted a bit in your hold, hands coming down to tightly clutch at your shirt.

"I'd love to list all of the things I love about you, but I'm afraid we'd be stuck in this bathroom for the next few days," you joked, earning a small huff from him. "So let me just name a few for now, hm? Let you see yourself a bit through my eyes instead of yours."

After a beat of silence, you could feel a shy nod against your shoulder.

Taking that as your cue to continue, you straightened up, gently prying Yeosang from your embrace. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second, full of nervousness and vulnerability.

As softly as you could, you grabbed his shoulders and nudged him to turn around, Yeosang confusedly complying until you stopped him right in front of the mirror. He met his own eyes on accident before quickly looking away again, finding the bathroom counter in front of him much more interesting.

You, however, couldn't have that, reaching up to take hold of his chin and tilting it back in the direction of the mirror. "Don't look away, Yeo," you chided softly. "I want you to admire yourself with me."

Your words caused another shiver to run down his spine, somehow feeling more exposed like this than when you'd entered the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Now, where to begin," you muttered mostly to yourself, looking him up and down in the mirror. "Let's just start at the top, shall we?"

You began with his hair, freshly brushed and incredibly soft as always. You played around with the strands as you showered him with compliments, twisting them in this and that direction, making Yeosang smile.

You then moved on to exactly that next, pointing out his pretty lips and an even more beautiful smile, causing his cheeks to redden as his expression turned bashful.

His striking eyes and adorable birthmark followed before you began trailing lower, now focused on his firm, wide shoulders. Your eyes were locked onto Yeosang's the whole time, watching his gaze flit between yours and whatever part of him you were currently appreciating. As the minutes dragged on and you moved from one spot to the next, pressed up against your boyfriend's back, you could see his eyes slightly gloss over, a dazed look creeping into them.

"Now, for one of my absolute favorites," you announced with a playful grin as your hand trailed down from his collarbone, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and tugged it up. You looked at Yeosang pointedly as you held the bunched-up fabric in front of him, waiting for him to get the message. You could hear his breath hitch as the realization dawned on him, meeting your eyes unsurely before leaning forward and biting down. You just gave him a proud smile, petting the back of his head before returning your hand to his front. You took your time, languidly moving down his sternum before taking a sharp turn to grab one of his pecs. Yeosang gasped at the sensation, reaching back to hold onto your thigh for support.

"I've said this a million times already, but God, do I love your boobs," you spoke dreamily, squeezing the muscle under your fingers. Yeosang squirmed in your hold, kept in place by your other hand clutching his hip.

A small, weak sound reverberated in his chest as your pointer finger drew circles into his skin, dangerously closing in on his nipple. His eyes stayed completely focused on your hand now, steeling himself for the inevitable pinch. It didn't do much, though, as you still managed to squeeze a delicious whimper out of him when you finally did it, making him press back into your body.

"You're always so sensitive here, aren't you?" You teased, brushing over the bud with your thumb to soothe it before moving to do the same with the other one. "I can never get enough of playing with them."

By the time you were done with his chest and began trailing even lower, Yeosang was panting. His hold on your thigh tightened, trying to keep himself steady even when his legs started to go weak from your ministrations. His other hand grabbed the wrist of yours holding onto his hip, as if scared you'd even think about letting go.

But while your words and caresses clearly had a very positive effect on your boyfriend, you weren't exactly content just yet.

You could tell he was slowly gaining some of his usual confidence back through your touches and words of appreciation, and yet, his eyes kept slipping away from his form in the mirror. Every time he'd do so, you'd sternly remind him where to look, to enjoy his body with you.

At first, he obeyed, meeting your eyes through the reflection again with an even darker blush spreading through his face and down his neck. Once you got below his neckline, small whines of protest joined his responses, but he listened nonetheless.

But the moment your hand finally landed on his crotch, a switch seemingly flipped inside of him.

You smirked as he let out a pathetic whimper, his faint abs visibly tensing at the feeling. "And what do we have here?"

With the shirt still in his mouth, Yeosang couldn't exactly answer, limited to nothing but desperate whines and panting. Even then, he tried to make his feelings clear, turning his head away to try and hide into your neck again.

You were quick to stop him, though, untangling your wrist from his grip to hold his jaw in place.

"No, no," you tutted. "You know better than that, don't you?"

And Yeosang, being your lovely little good boy, almost conceded again, the tension in his neck easing as he slowly began to turn back.

But the moment the hand on his hard-on began moving, he knew he was done.

You wavered for a second as Yeosang suddenly whipped around, too fast for you to stop him this time, and shoved his face into your shoulder. A part of you wanted to scold him again, yet something told you now might not be the best time.

"Hun?" You asked softly, rubbing circles into his back. "You okay? Talk to me."

It took Yeosang a moment to realize through the haze in his mind that he still had the shirt in his mouth. Taking out the now wrinkled material, he hid his face back in your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do it like this," he muttered, and you could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. "Everything else was okay, even if a bit embarrassing, but it feels really weird to be looking at myself while you do... that."

You hummed thoughtfully, ruminating over his words. "So you're saying everything we did before that was okay? Do you think it helped you at least a little, or should we do something different?"

Yeosang shook his head. "No, no, it was really nice, actually. I was embarrassed at first, but once I pushed through that, it actually felt very comforting," he admitted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I mean, if you could push through that initial embarrassment and ended up enjoying it, then, maybe..." you trailed off, snaking a hand between your bodies to tease at the hem of his boxers, "even this could work?"

Much to your disappointment, Yeosang vehemently shook his head, tightening his hold on you. "N-no, I really don't think so. Everything else made me feel more confident and comfortable over time, but this instantly made me self-conscious all over again. It just- it feels weird to watch myself like that, I don't know."

"It's okay," you replied, retracting your hand to put it on the small of his back instead. "If it doesn't feel right, then that's that. As long as I helped you feel even a little bit better about yourself, I'm happy."

Yeosang couldn't help the small, shy smile that spread across his lips. He knew words couldn't describe just how much you cared about him, and yet, with the two of you standing here like this, baring your hearts to each other, it was almost palpable.

What was even more palpable, however, was the obvious, unresolved problem pushing into your thigh.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your boyfriend's eyes again.

"So..." you began, a coy smile on your lips, "since we said no more mirrors for now, how about we take this somewhere else and I make you feel even better?"

Yeosang's eyes widened at your offer before a small, bashful grin appeared on his face. "If you'd be so kind."

You chuckled at his sweet tone, knowing far too well his thoughts were anything but sweet right now. Nevertheless, you grabbed his hand and opened the bathroom door again.

"Then follow me, pretty boy."

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

#sub!ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez headcanons #ateez hard hours #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #sub!yunho #sub!hongjoong #sub!seonghwa #sub!yeosang #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez reactions #kinktober 2024 #sub!atz #sub!ateez reactions #ateez scenarios

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jonahfagnus · 1 year ago

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Every few centuries or so, each Dread Power selects a Messiah. Not at the same time - they’re often staggered over decades, and a Messiah will frustratingly frequently die of mundane causes long before anyone notices them. Worse yet, Messiahs can go their entire life unnoticed, odd enough to off-put their peers but not enough for their kin to take notice.

To find the Messiah of one’s god is a grand achievement. Finding Agnes Montague had brought the Lightless Flame great power; new strength, new devotees, new rituals. It had been so much that Gertrude had felt the need to temper Agnes with her own soul. The Desolation won’t get over that for a very long while.

Jonah has spent his entire life seeking the Eye’s Messiah. It has to be soon - it’s been two centuries, and he’s certain that there was no Messiah when he was alive. The timeframe is perfect, and yet he cannot find anyone. He checks for incidents related to the Eye, keeps note of artefacts trading hands, but nothing. Whether his god’s Messiah simply died as a child, or was swallowed by another power, the search is endless, and yields no results.

This is why it’s so surprising when Jonathan Sims walks into his office for an interview, and makes eye contact with him - ordinarily this would make people uncomfortable, but Jonathan is mostly content in the Eye’s stronghold. Jonah knows, immediately, that this is the one. This is who he has been searching for his whole life.

Jonathan’s Gaze is rather weak, and wielded bluntly. He wouldn’t be able to force any measure of knowledge out of Jonah right now, but it’s surprising he has any Gaze at all. Just more proof that he was made for their god.

Jonathan has found that people become uncomfortable when he makes eye contact with them, and that discomfort can be used to get things he wants; he’s used it to convince teachers to give him better grades or an extension on his work, to convince his peers to leave him be, to convince well-meaning adults to turn a blind eye to his breaking and entering, his trespassing, all the little crimes to satisfy his endless curiosity. There’s no need to intimidate now, of course. The moment he decided to come in for the interview his fate was sealed. He is meant to be here, and always has been.

Jonah reaches a hand over the table and does not break eye contact.

“Elias Bouchard,” he says, voice confident and smooth. On the inside, he’s a bundle of nerves. If he isn’t careful, he could drive Jonathan away from the Eye, perhaps forever. Such a failure would not be forgiven.

“Jon Sims,” Jon returns, seeming equally calm. Jonah’s still debating whether or not to look inside his head. It would be exceedingly useful, but if Jon notices it could be disastrous. He has no idea how Jon would react. The Lonely almost drove away their most recent Messiah by trying to bring him in too quickly, and Jonah cannot afford the same to happen with Jon. There is the chance Jon would notice, and realise that Jonah is like him, and decide to stay. Too risky, perhaps.

Jonah doesn’t pay much attention as they go through the typical rigamarole. None of these questions are necessary. Instead, he does his own research on Jon, the sort that doesn’t require reading his mind.

He Knows that all of Jon’s peers had warned him away from the Institute when he had brought it up, and that Jon had lied to his flatmate about the interview. He has no other job prospects lined up, and still can’t justify the decision to himself. It simply feels right. He Knows that, despite his machinations, Jon’s grades are less than perfect. Like much else in his life, Jon is worried about it, partially because he is innately anxious and partially because he’s worried that he won’t get the job.

He Knows that Jon (much like Jonah in his youth) prefers to find what isn’t already known. He finds education too boring, too easy - he can find what his teachers have told him in textbooks, or online courses; quite often he finds he already knows it, although he can't say from where. What he wants is the sort of knowledge that is coveted, hidden, and he has a particular taste for any knowledge of the supernatural.

He Knows that Jon has uncanny senses - having been able to detect teachers long before their footsteps began echoing down the halls - and some of his peers used him as a watchman when getting high or drunk, or breaking into offices to find answer sheets. He Knows that Jon enjoyed being the watchman, for reasons he can’t quite place.

Their god's influence has already spread deep into Jon, into the furthest reaches of his soul. Jon has the ability to compel (although this, like his Sight, is weak and wielded bluntly - Jonah will have to teach him better), and he craves knowledge like he craves blood in his veins. His memory is uncanny, his eyes uncannier. He couldn’t be a better Archivist.

“When can you start?”

Jon blinks, in surprise.

“Oh- er, well, I- ah, next Monday, I suppose?”

“Fantastic,” Jonah says, giving him a grin. They shake hands again, and then Jon is leaving. Jonah Watches him, all the way home, to where he tells his flatmate that he got the job, where he begins to make preparations to move out. Jon casts glances over his shoulder when he thinks nobody can see him, although he can’t tell from where he’s being watched. Yet, despite the anxiety (and excitement) it causes, he makes no move to hide himself.

He’s going to be perfect. Jonah will ensure it.

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genshin-scenarios · 7 months ago

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at your service - maid!lyney x house of hearth!reader

Summary: where you’re both on an undercover mission, and Lyney is disguised as your personal maid.

Warnings: gender isn’t specified, but you are wearing a corset and makeup.

Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store / Red String of Fate Prompt List

When Lyney knocks on your bedroom door to check if you’re ready, your heart lurches into your throat because you are not used to wearing such expensive clothing and feel like a fool.

A corset hugs your waist, makeup dusts your cheeks and clothing fit for a baron’s child weighs on your shoulders like lead. Lyney and Lynette are too recognisable these days to play a significant undercover role, which is why you’ve been picked to act as a noble for the week in an invitational event.

It’s a normal checklist; blend in, gather intel, and escape. Lynette is already somewhere else in the building, infiltrating the staff while her brother gives you support. But all your self-consciousness immediately melts away the moment you pull open the door and meet Lyney’s eyes, suddenly hit by the fact of what his costume is.

A maid. Your maid, to be specific—and while Lyney has his hair styled with extensions to look more like a girl, you can’t shake off the oddness of seeing him in a dress and suddenly looking as nervous as you do.

“I don’t look that weird, do I?” Lyney tucks a fringe behind his ear. He’s shifting uncomfortably under the heavy layers of the maid dress, and you swallow the urge to shove him out of your room before you say something out-of-pocket.

He looks too cute.

“You look great! I mean, not that you suit being a maid, but—” You fumble to put your gloves on, then straighten your back to show you’re ready to go. “You look fine. I’d be glad to have a maid as reliable as you.”

“Technically speaking, I’m supposed to serve and attend to you the entire time we’re in this manor.” Lyney says offhandedly. “Down to your outfit changes, even.”

A flare of heat floods to your cheeks. “We— We don’t have to do all of that, do we?”

“Well… I was hoping to spoil you a little while I had the excuse.” He admits, giving you a little smile. “Since I didn’t manage to impress you with my appearance, it’s the least I can do. I hardly imagine that nobles keep around staff who aren’t endearing to them in some way.”

Blinded by your own internal panic, you don’t notice how Lyney’s laying it on thick that he’s desperate for you to admit he makes a cute maid. He’d perish otherwise, living with the knowledge that he asked Lynette to swap roles with him just so he could stay with you.

Lyney’s forgotten how these interactions tend to go; either he’s flustered, or he makes sure you are. And the more you keep a cool head, the more embarrassment creeps into his peripheral vision.

“I don’t think I have to act for people to see that I’m endeared… by you.” Your words grow quiet as your eyes widen in horror. What did he just make you say?!

Instead of a teasing comment however, you turn to see the soft quirk of Lyney’s lips. “I see. In that case,” he leans in closer to fix your hair, “I’ll do my best to keep you feeling that way.”

With a wink, Lyney puts on his magician’s flair for a second and raises your knuckles to his lips. He says it’s for good luck, just like all the other times he asks for a kiss on the cheek before a performance. You’re starting to wonder if he pulls tricks like these often on others, before remembering how Lyney would accompany you on stormy nights when you were children, reading a book in front of the fireplace.

There’s no one else you’d rather have by your side.

#alternate ending is that reader’s unfazed “leave the dresses to lynette” because lyney’s being too flirty #and he has an indignant moment of ‘but we look the same?!”#lyney x reader #lyney genshin impact #lyney x you #genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin x you #genshin scenarios #genshin writing #gi lyney #traveler wishes

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updatingranboo · 1 year ago

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Ranboo’s boundaries

Since I know some people really like to have a specific thread of boundaries, I thought I'd throw some together for Ranboo just for quick reference!

Ranboo's boundaries are not on a rule by rule basis, they prefer people use common sense. This list is not exhaustive.

Ranboo’s overall ask is to be kind! When you are interacting with people inside and out of the community, be kind first. Be good people and be respectful.

Don't do anything that would hurt Ranboo or anyone else in the community. That means no racism, antisemitism, ableism, homophobia/transphobia, sexism, general bigotry etc.!

If there’s something that ranboo has done that makes you uncomfortable, please call it out. Ranboo encourages being corrected and wants to know when he’s made mistakes. He is a human and he WILL make mistakes. They will always apologize and try to do better.

Ranboo is an adult and can speak for himself. if he has an issue with the way something is being done in the community, he will speak on it. especially when it comes to fanart, don’t harass artists on the specific ways they draw ranboo. If they’d had a problem with it previously they would have said something.

Again, Ranboo is an adult. You don’t have to baby them. He can swear and drink and stay up late like any other adult can. He knows how to take care of himself.

Ranboo also doesn’t need to be defended. People are allowed to not like him, and trying to fight people who don’t like him is unhealthy, pointless, and paints the community in a bad light. Uplift the good instead!

If someone is being weird or makes a mistake, don’t dogpile them. Politely correct them, and if they continue to push things block and move on.

Don’t mention Ranboo in places they aren’t relevant. Don’t chat hop to ask their friends about him, DM his friends to try to get in contact with them, just in general don’t view his friends as extensions of him. They are all incredibly talented people and doing that just hurts Ranboo and his friends because it makes them not want to make content together!

Ranboo is fine with all compliments as long as they aren’t explicit. they are fine with all gendered terms. He uses he/they pronouns and is nonbinary and gay. They aren’t okay with shipping.

Ranboo is strictly against AI content, including AI generated art and voice covers. Support artists!!

If you are intentionally going against these restrictions it will result in a ban in chat, which means a ban from watching all streams, as well as crossbans to all of their friends chats. Ranboo doesn’t ban on genuine mistakes, but if it’s repeated behavior their mods have full authority issuing bans.

Again, be kind. If you are kind, patient, and respectful, and you listen to criticism and try to be the best person you can be you are doing everything right! Happy boobing ❤️

#ranboo #ranboo update #important update #i don’t want this to be like one of those “these boundaries are law” posts #but i do think it’s good for ppl who haven’t been to every stream to see #this is all off the top of my head so please lmk if anything’s wrong!#boundaries

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lkaruss · 8 months ago

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An extensive KFP 4 rant (spoiler heavy)

So, Kung Fu Panda 4 was… an experience. It took about 3 glasses of whiskey to get through it.

There is so much wrong with this movie, from the pacing to lore breaking issues. However, this is an attempt at trying to formulate my opinions regarding the film, and explain why certain story decisions were detrimental.

My live reaction to the film:

The movie makes it clear right from the start that it was made for very young children. It’s filled to the brim with jokes. If there is a chance to make a joke, then there is a joke. Regardless if it's appropriate or if it hurts the story/lore/characters. In normal circumstances, this would be offset by the fact that the jokes are creative and unpredictable, but they aren’t. I would say most of them can be seen either from a mile away, or they just fall flat. I think I only managed to laugh once or twice when Po’s dads were doing something, but outside of that, the film couldn’t get a chuckle out of me. On the contrary, I found many to be cringe, and some even made me uncomfortable.

But why am I talking so much about the jokes? In the previous Kung Fu Panda films, the jokes were used to break tension. The way the seriousness of the story and the jokes were in harmony is what made those films so memorable and impactful. The story (and films) took itself seriously, but it would sprinkle in jokes that fit the universe, the situation, and most importantly originated from the scene themselves.

Compared to this, the jokes in KFP 4 are, unoriginal, forced, and usually can be traced back to pop-culture. The last one being important as the original Kung Fu Panda films stayed away from referencing pop-culture as it would break the immersion and authenticity of the setting.

This ties into the ERA that these films depict.

Setting

Based on my limited understanding, the original films have done an excellent job at depicting a world that is supposedly set in an authentic ancient China. From the way names are handled, to symbolisms, everything was well done.

The same cannot be said about Kung Fu Panda 4.

I’m not an expert on chinese culture, but from what chinese friends have told me, „Juniper” city doesn’t sound Chinese at all, or has a meaning in Chinese. It’s essentially a Latin word for a common plant that can be found all over the globe.

The architecture of the city is also questionable. It’s trying to give off a metropolitan feel, which doesn’t fit the ERA. Additionally, the architecture of the buildings is odd. It’s like a mesh of the architecture of several Asian cultures.

Then there are some of the names. „Steve” and „Scott” to be specific. These are the names of some masters and I don’t think I need to explain why these don’t fit the setting at all.

I was constantly questioning what movie I was watching as it was hard to believe this is Kung Fu Panda.

Identity crysis

What made me question the film’s identity the most however is the story.

This 4th film felt like a 1st installment rather than a sequel. It conveniently disregards everything from the previous movies that would contradict its plot and world.

The film immediately starts with Shifu coming out of nowhere and saying Po has to choose a new Dragon Warrior at that very moment. Not only did this feel incredibly random, but it’s also thematically incorrect.

First off, why is Shifu saying this? Why would he want Po to pass on his „title” if it's destiny? Why would he want him to do it now? Why did he not even consider ANYONE FROM THE FIVE and instead got 5 randos as candidates out of the blue?

The issue with the whole premise is incredibly flawed. Let me explain…

Po was chosen as the dragon warrior in the first film. There he proved his worth as such. The key to this is that he is the chosen one because it’s his destiny to deal with threats that no one else can.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that he is the best. He is the guy who is and will be in the right place at the right time, with the right tools to deal with threats that no one else can deal with. But I digress, it's a different topic.

The point is that Po’s role as the Dragon Warrior is his destiny. The „title” merely represents that role in the world. So you can pass the title to anyone you want, but that does not change the fact that due to destiny, it’s still going to be Po’s role.

This is not just a coincidence though. Po has shown many times that he has a very open view of the world. This is then combined with his traits of being is warm, outgoing, energetic, friendly, goofy, and unorthodox. He represents the Dragon, Yang in the Yin Yang.

All of this is important to understanding why there is only 1 dragon warrior, and that is Po. End of the story.

The film however completely throws all of this out the window and goes with the new Dragon Warrior plot anyway.

That means the new Dragon Warrior is literally right there next to him. Master Tigress.

Now you might be asking why that would be the case.

This film, although throws out all the symbolisms of the previous films, still shouldn’t disregard the other characters that are around Po.

The 2 characters work like the 2 sides of the Yin-Yang, as complementary forces. They are opposite forces that need each other in order to create balance.

Her influence is extremely necessary throughout the three films, particularly the second and third. It is her companionship, her support, and her constant push against Po’s natural instincts that lead to the best outcome.

Po has achieved a lot of spiritual enlightenment and character development. A lot of it through his own means, but without Tigress he wouldn't be where he is right now.

The Yang is the strongest when it contains the Yin, and the Yin is the strongest when it contains the Yang.

But this dynamic goes both ways. Although we mostly see the effects of this relationship on Po as the films focus on him, it has also changed Tigress. This leads to her opening up more and being more expressive as the films went on, giving us glimpses into the compassionate person she truly is.

While symbolically she is not the dragon, the 4th film establishes that it doesn’t care about the symbolisms or anything that the previous films have established. So naturally a character that compliments Po this well, should be put into the spotlight and get the character development that she deserves. A character that went through serious changes, but is still left incomplete. You might as well make her the new Dragon Warrior then.

She - altough deserved the title the most even in the first film - lacked the ability to see the world from a perspective that's required to handle certain situations. The Dragon Warrior is way more than just being the perfect warrior. Po's presence was necessary for her to change her attitude. Leading to her slowly becoming her best self. Knowing all of this, it's not such a wild thought that if there has to be a new person who takes over that role, then Tigress would be a great choice for that.

But what is there for her to learn from Po? Spirituality.

Tigress has always been a grounded, by-the-book character. This can be mostly attributed to her upbringing. Her changing and becoming more open, seeing things differently would have been something interesting to explore, and this would also take care of the issue of the „new trilogy” copying the original trilogy’s main character development.

However, the film completely ignores her existence, and the new Dragon Warrior is instead a random Zootopia fox.

The (new) deuteragonist

There is so little to say about Zhen. The best thing I could compare her to is an untreated wooden board.

It’s rough, full of splinter, and there are many like it. Probably one of the most cliché characters I have seen in a very long time.

She is generic, has an overused „misunderstood fox thief” trope, and a character arc that is so predictable that we all knew what was going to happen just from reading the film’s synopsis at the beginning of 2023.

Her backstory is a copy of Tigress’ except if Shifu was evil. An orphan who is taken in by a master who emotionally neglects her. Said orphan doing what her master wants in order to be loved/accepted by said master. Except that Zhen doesn’t seem to have any attachment or loyalty to the Chameleon. So the „Sad backstory” fails to garner any sympathy towards the character.

Her dynamic with Po is non-existent, which is why their „friendship” is forced. The creators tried so hard to make the two bond, that they forgot to give them time, shared experiences, or anything that would resemble an emotional connection between them. They just quickly went over everything that they have in common in a dialogue and that’s it. There was no prerequisite completed that would make Po care about Zhen or vice versa.

Furthermore, Zhen doesn’t fit the traits that the dragon has, she is not spiritual either or has an open view of the world. So why is she the new one then?

And I wanted to avoid talking about this, but the character is a textbook Mary Sue.

per wikipedia

Zhen is more than capable in a fight to keep up with Po, even though it was not shown why she is so good at fighting. One thing is for sure, she shouldn’t know Kung Fu as she certainly didn’t learn it from her „master” the Chameleon if the film’s plot has any consistency.

She is not only able to manipulate Chi, but also to use Po’s staff without knowing anything about either of those.

A previous character’s role being retconned so that she can take it for herself (See the rant about the Dragon Warrior title above)

She always gets along with characters that matter, getting what she wants.

No real character drawbacks.

A throwaway character like this, should be a minor support character, not the new main protagonist for crying out loud.

Her inadequacies are so blatant as a character, that no wonder they didn’t even want to have at the very least Tigress in the film as Zhen would immediately become irrelevant to the audience. They put all the spotlight they could on her, at the expense of the story, and in the end achieved nothing in return.

Tell me with a straight face that a character that has an entire movie focusing on them - who still remains a generic, boring character by the end, without any story potential - should be the new main protagonist. The fact that most people don’t even refer to the character by her name, but by the actress’ name Awkwafina should tell you everything about how memorable she is.

Most new characters and animal designs don’t fit the KFP art style.

A good example of this is Zhen.

This is how a fox would look like in Nico Marlet’s KFP style:

And this is what we got:

Sorry, wrong picture. I meant this:

Now, I’m not a character designer, or a professional artist, I only draw a couple of his characters, but I can see that this is way too far off from his work. If not from personal experience, then from the interviews that Nico Marlet himself gave.

The same issue applies to the villain of the film, the chameleon, but atleast with her they tried (somewhat).

The Villain

They say a film is as good, as its villain. This seems to be true in the case of this film too.

The Chameleon sucks.

She has no connection to anyone from the cast. She has no emotional leverage or pressure on the cast. She is not scary or powerful enough to make the audience care about the cast. Her motivation is so terrible, it might be one of the reasons why the Five was kept out of the film because their mere existence single-handedly demolishes her reason for breaking bad.

Outside of this, the character is unoriginal and uninspired. She basically can “lick” people and steal their Kung Fu? I honestly don't know how to put this into words because it doesnt make any lick of sense (I did the funny). If anything it's a budget version of Kai.

They didn’t even bother to give her a name.

What I will say though is that Viola Davis did what she could with what she was given. I found it amusing that she managed to give the chameleon those serious villainous vibes, while at the same time, the character is a joke. If that’s not a testament to the voice actor’s abilities then I don’t know what is. She was definitely wasted on this role.

As for the “returning villains”. I knew they were only there for cash-grab from the moment they said that all of them would return. Shen, is dead. He is not a Kung Fu master, he doesn’t have any connection with Chi, and he hasn’t been banished to the spirit realm. Then there is Kai, whose soul/spirit doesn’t exist anymore.

The only one that could ever return was Tai Lung. However, due to the gravity of his character, if he does return it has to be done perfectly regardless of what direction his character takes.

Now, many of us knew from the start that whatever they were gonna do with him would be bad (I mean there is a massive beef between Tigress and him, and yet she is not even in the film), but I think I speak for all of us when I say that they managed to somehow lowball it even worse than expected.

Basically, the Chameleon brings him back from the spirit realm, licks the Kung Fu out of him, he says like 3-4 lines, and returns to the spirit realm…. what the actual f*ck.

I’m sure I don’t need to go into a 10-paragraph rant on how much storytelling potential was wasted with this, because everyone knows. From reconciling with his dad, to her little sister having a crazy beef with him, to having to accept all the wrongs he did, accepting that he is not the Dragon warrior etc. etc. etc…

There was always only 1 chance of bringing him back. If he came back in a new film or show (again) it wouldn’t have anywhere near the same impact as it should, and it would also feel weird to the audience.

DreamWorks, you had 1 chance to bring this guy back, and you wasted it all on this film.

The non-existent magic system.

Or rather, how this film didn’t care about it at all.

Kung Fu Panda has a relatively grounded world. It’s animals that do Kung Fu based on their natural abilities. The closest thing we got to supernatural was Chi, but it was well handled in the 3rd film in my opinion.

Chi is life force and not magic. This means if you use it, you are exhausting your own life force. This means you would only use it in certain situations, such as healing someone who is mortally wounded, or perhaps to enhance an attack in a desperate fight.

The film doesn’t care about this and handles it as just a regular, inexhaustible force of energy. This can mostly be seen with Po as he uses it whenever he feels like it.

The other type of magic is what the Chameleon is using. It’s not explained, or shown how it works. It’s just there to further progress the plot so that the character can take the Kung Fu from others. (Seriously, how does that work?)

The Kung Fu action

The fight scenes were also a downgrade compared to the previous films.

In KFP 4 they felt less energetic, less grounded, and overall too cartoonish. As an example, Po can jump ridiculously high because… I don’t know, I guess the film just ignores the fact that he is Panda who sometimes even struggles to pull himself up to a rooftop.

The previous films incorporated the strengths and weaknesses of the animals that fought. Po is not very mobile, but he is very durable, and his fighting style compliments this. However, when he really needs to get somewhere, his lack of mobility is then offset by his friends, the Furious Five.

The Furious Five

Their absence can be severely felt throughout the movie. That is because in their place was a generic character that had forced interactions with Po.

They have great synergy with him, that cannot be replicated, however minor their role might be sometimes. They serve as a great way to fill in those empty spots in the story, and to elevate the villain. Additionally, their fight scenes are entertaining and help to spice up the choreography.

Although they are great companions, if the film really doesn’t have the time to spare for them, then it's understandable if they aren’t around. However the same cannot be said about Tigress.

A Kung Fu Panda film has to have Po and Tigress interact, due to the reasons already explained above regarding her, and also because of the following:

They are direct opposites, which is why their relationship is so entertaining, regardless if you look at them as platonic best friends, or as a potential couple.

Po is warm, outgoing, brash, energetic, friendly, goofy, and unorthodox, however, he is also serious when needed. While Tigress is introverted, calm, calculated, passive, and intuitive, but deep down she is also a very compassionate and conflicted person that we rarely see. This is then in conjunction with the emotional bond that the previous films have built up between them. These are the reasons why just putting these two in a room is enough to create entertaining scenarios. They add a lot of fun, heartfelt, and emotional moments to every film.

Whenever Po is facing a problem, she is right there to help him through it, whether by talking it through or by beating some sense into him (literally).

She has always been quintessential in Po’s development and motivations.

Memberberries, Memberberries everywhere…

It was jarring to see the film disregarding the existence of the previous movies to justify its plot, but at the same time heavily relied on tropes, and scenes from said films. I’m not kidding when I say that there were moments that were ripped straight out of them.

One of those moments is the standoff between Po and Zhen before the final fight. Zhen wants to stop Po to avoid him getting hurt, but the fight ends with her hugging Po….

Yeah… it was a blatant copy of the prison scene from the 2nd film. However, I think the 2 scenes here perfectly encapsulate why the previous films worked, and why the 4th film doesn’t.

The prison scene in the 2nd film was essentially an emotionally unstable Po being held back by a caring Tigress. Po is so focused on getting to the truth that he forgets the reason they are there, and would put his and his friends’ lives in jeopardy to know what happened to him and his parents. So much so that Po was ready to get beaten to a pulp by Tigress instead of staying down there and waiting until the Five finished the task.

But instead of that happening, Tigress saw how lost Po was, and realized she needed to calm him down to help him understand their situation. And so the person who has always been portrayed as an unfeeling, hardcore, essentially perfect warrior gave Po an unexpected hug and told him he is too important for her to lose him.

This moment has gravity and weight, because of how she is perceived, because of how Po views her, and because Tigress was forced out of her comfort zone to emotionally connect with Po, to help him. It’s a moment of pure comradery and care towards each other that ascends the situation they are in. It’s a moment that in many ways defined their relationship going forward.

In comparison to this, the scene that copied this in the 4th film has none of the emotional underlinings that I discussed, and so it falls flat and feels cringe rather than heartfelt and warm. This is mainly due to Po and Zhen having no connection, bond, or reason to care about each other. But then there is the other element that I discussed when talking about the villain. Po is in no real danger, and it never felt like he was.

Production

From the early leaks, it was blatantly obvious that the production of this film was rushed. Between the artificially forced plot, the generic character designs, the non-existence of the Five, the lack of time, money, commitment, and care was apparent.

However, due to an interview that the Co-director did with some folks on the subreddit discord, light was shed on the nightmare that was the production. I won’t go into details, as everyone should read the Q&A for themselves, but I’ll touch upon a point that was brought up as an excuse for this film turning out the way it did.

(this is a real concept art from the production btw)

Some are saying the reason the film turned like this was due to the budget restriction. That they simply didn’t have the money to have characters like Tigress return due to Angelina Jolie costing a ridiculous amount of money.

But then I have to ask: They had the budget for characters like Shifu (Dustin Hoffman), Po’s dads (James Hong & Bryan Cranston), Tai Lung (Ian McShane), who in the end turned out to be completely irrelevant to the story, but not at the very least for Tigress (Angelina Jolie)?

I’m not saying that you cannot make a story with these characters, because you obviously could make a great one. What I’m trying to point out is if you have such a limited budget, are you really going to blow it all on actors who play characters that essentially add nothing to the story? This is why I call bullshit on them not getting at least Angelina Jolie back to play Tigress.

Let’s not even mention how you could always recast these characters anyway (although it's clear that the execs are the ones forcing the use of A-list actors).

So for the sake of the argument, let’s come up with a story, that has a reason to exist, has characters that you can do something with, and fits the budget that you are given.

For me - considering that this film was essentially a buddy adventure film - it's an easy task. Just have Po help Tigress explore her origins. I know it's cheesy and basic, but at the very least you have what’s needed for a decent story that would be able to expand on a beloved character, and even help develop Po into a spiritual leader as he has to aid her best friend.

Another idea is what my friend and I had come up with. Have Po bring Lei Lei (now much older, and is a student under him and Tigress) on an adventure. You wouldn’t even need Tigress to appear in the film, because these characters would reference her many times. Lei Lei is a copy of Po in the sense that she wanted to do Kung Fu because she puts Tigress on a pedestal. Because of how influential she was in her life, Lei Lei’s personality is a copy of Tigress’.

I’m just shooting ideas here, but at least these wouldn’t ruin the continuity of the franchise and would be able to navigate the studio limitations that the creators had to face. (from the ones we know of).

"Limitation is the mother of creativity"

KFP 4 was a shallow, artificial story that didn't add anything to the franchise, only degraded it and stripped it of it's remaining value. It's missing the foundations of a KFP film, such as the heart, artistry, and warmth. It's not unexpected as none of the original brains worked on this film.

So what can be expected from this franchise going forward?

Well, not much honestly. It was a weak attempt by DreamWorks to continue the main storyline, not for the sake of the story, but to milk as much money out of it as they can. Even though with a little bit of effort they really could have at least made a good film in the end. However, between the incompetence of the decision makers, the rushed production, and the new people not knowing much about the franchise, that was never going to happen.

The only thing that we can hope for is a spinoff (which is about a decade late at this point), that focuses on Tigress. It’s the only way I see anything for this franchise going forward and hopefully, this film served as a wakeup call for the executives.

Thank you to those who had the patience to read through my inessential rant. Let me know what you guys think about the film.

#kung fu panda #kung fu panda 4 #kfp #kfp 4 #review #rant post

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starry-bi-sky · 10 months ago

Text

Becoming Phantom - Clone^2 (and by extension, clone danny)

I said I would make it, and so i did! Here's a little ficlet of how danny became Phantom - the human ghost-fighting vigilante in the clone^2 and clone Danny au. Since this does include themes of dissection/vivisection, i'll put in a minor trigger warning list down below.

TW: experimentation - implied torture and vivisection/dissection of ghosts TW: Non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood

TLDR: Danny's parents have been catching ghosts ever since the portal was opened after Danny's lab accident. Danny knows this because he can hear them screaming from the basement. After finally telling his friends about it, he resolves to free the ghosts - and he does. He ends up having a conversation with one of the ghosts, and comes to the decision that he will catch ghosts before his parents do to prevent this kind of harm from happening again.

word count check: 4.9k

---------------

His parents caught another ghost.

Danny can tell because he can hear their screaming from the kitchen, even with the doors closed. It's horrific - the voice is doubled over itself like something out of one of Sam's demonic horror movies, and Danny's heart races like he's run a mile at the sound.

It warps and twists, and almost sounds like its saying 'please.'

He rubs his chest uncomfortably, and pushes his breakfast away from him. His appetite lost and his stomach churning with a deep sense of dread.

Across the table, Jazz notices, and her eyes narrow dangerously at his hand gripping his shirt - right over his heart. He just got out of the hospital last month, and he knows what she's thinking - they don't want to have to send him back.

"I'm fine." He blurts out immediately, dropping his hand. He's not fine, but it's because he feels ill as the lights above flicker and another terrified shriek echoes through the floorboards. He swallows, ill. "I- it's just-" his eyes flick to the door to the lab. "the lab."

Jazz's lips press into thin line, and she pushes her chair back and stands up. "I hate that they're doing this," she says, stomping towards the lab. "It's inhumane, Danny. They're people too, even if they don't look like us!"

Before the portal, Danny might've just shrugged his shoulders and not said anything. He never really cared about his parents' ghost hunting stuff, but figured that since they knew more about it, their rants about them being unfeeling were correct.

Now, though? When he's been woken up in the middle of the night by the house rattling and his ears ringing with the pained cries of one of the ghosts' in the basement? His heart beating so fast he thinks he's been transported back to the lab a month ago, lying on the floor after being electrocuted by the portal?

He's really not so sure anymore. And he thinks he's starting to agree with Jazz. This isn't right. He doesn't think so, at least.

An unsure 'hm' comes out of his throat, eyes tracking Jazz as she swings the heavy metal door open and breathes in deep. "HEY!" She yells, her voice miraculously sounding out over the ghost screaming. The screams stop. "MOM! DAD! CUT THAT OUT, YOU'RE SCARING DANNY!"

There's no sound, and Danny sighs a breath of relief. Not that it does much to slow his anxious heart, the shrieks are burned into his ears, and he's already thinking about leaving now rather than later. He can meet Tucker at his house.

His parents - his mom, actually - appears at the entrance to the lab, her hands drip bright, ectoplasm green, and there's splatters of it across the front of her suit and goggles like blood. Danny feels white in the face, and Jazz looks enraged.

Mom pulls off her goggles, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your father and I just got carried away, we caught this one just this morning by the park." She says, as if that makes it any better. Danny's eyes are glued to the ectoplasm dripping onto the floor. "We'll wait until you get to school."

Danny wishes they wouldn't do this at all. But he just nods mutely, unable to make his lead-heavy tongue do anything. Jazz speaks for him, and whirls on mom like a tornado about to break loose. "At school? This shouldn't be happening at all - it's wrong, mom!"

Jazz has been the only one vocal about this whole thing ever since mom and dad came home with a ghost trapped in one of their nets - their thermos wasn't working - while Danny was on sick leave after he got out of the hospital. Danny still remembers the utter shock he was in after mom and dad came in dragging it behind them.

The ghost looked like a grown woman, but it - she - had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and ice-like skin. She'd been thrashing in the net, saying something in a hissy, whispering language that made static build behind his eyes. It had surprised him that he could somewhat make out what she was saying.

It had been fascinating. Up until the screaming started.

He watches Mom make a face that looks like endeared annoyance, and she turns to Jazz with a light sigh. "You're a kind girl, Jazz, but ghosts aren't human, sweetheart. We've told you this." And they have, multiple times. It's become a reoccurring argument.

"Does it matter?!" Jazz exclaims, her cheeks turning an inflamed red with indignancy. She looks appalled. "They're still in pain! You're hurting them!"

Danny silently nods, but they don't see. Jazz is glaring at mom with the burning anger of the sun and Mom just looks exasperated. "Your father and I know this already, Jazmine." Mom says, her arms crossing across her chest.

Jazz's mouth drops open.

Danny's almost does the same. The bone-chilling blood rush leaves him shivering, and his vision spots out in black, fuzzy dots for a few seconds. Maybe, he thinks, it's his heart stopping again with the cold horror.

They know this?

And they're still doing it?

He thought he knew his parents - now he's second-guessing himself.

Jazz is just as much at a loss for words as Danny is. And then her expression shutters closed with a fury-kind of icy. "Danny," she says, still staring down their mom. "Go get your stuff, I'm driving you to school."

Normally, he hates how.. parent-y Jazz gets. She acts like a second mom, and like a helicopter one to boot. It drives him nuts on the worst of days. Right now though, he's already rising to his feet before he's even opening his mouth.

"Okay." He croaks, and beelines it up the stairs for his backpack. He doesn't look at mom when he comes back down, he doesn't think he can. He can see her still-dripping hands in the corner of his eye though.

------

"Man, you look like shit." Tucker says the moment Danny sits down in their homeroom class, he's frowning. Danny doesn't say anything to him, he just grunts and drops his head into his arms.

Sam, sitting behind Danny, leans across the aisle and smacks Tucker in the arm. He yelps in pain, and rubs the spot she hit with a glare. "He's right though," Sam says, leaning over his shoulder. "You looked like you were gonna yak over the front row when you walked in."

"It's good that you didn't," Tucker grumbles, "Dash would've killed you."

Danny, despite the shit morning, manages a smile and tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on his arm instead. "Mr. Lancer wouldn't've let him." Sam sniffs, and her fingers are in his hair already - it's been growing out for a while now. He meant to cut it but then the lab accident happened, and he was in the hospital, and then on sick leave, and -- long story short, he was growing it out.

Besides, Sam pulling it back for him was relaxing, and he feels the tension bleeding out of his shoulders already. His anxious heart slowing. "Yeah, he's been weirdly protective since the accident." He says. It was kinda nice, Dash was being forced to back off - finally, more than he was before.

"Probably because if you have a heart attack in class from Dash bullying you, he'll be liable." Tucker snorts, relaxing back into his chair. Up front, the three of them see Dash shoot them a glare from over his shoulder. He probably heard them -- and Tucker doesn't help by giving him an innocent, too-wide grin.

There's a tug, and Danny lifts his head slightly as Sam ties his hair back with whatever hairband she procured out of nowhere. And she says she's not a witch, honestly.

His smile falters, however, when Sam leans back around his shoulder with a frown still evident on her face. "Seriously though, what's up? You were really pale -- paler than normal, that is."

Danny doesn't really wanna tell them - he's kept the whole 'my parents are torturing ghosts' thing to himself ever since he first woke up to the house shaking. It wasn't any secret though that there were ghosts now actually 'infesting' Amity Park though, they'd been popping up ever since the portal turned on.

But Jazz says talking about things helps alleviate stress of what's burdening you, and Danny doesn't usually listen to her. She's his annoying older sister, of course he doesn't. But... this... wasn't really something he wanted to keep secret forever, either.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he averts his eyes. It's like tearing off a band-aid, Danny, he thinks, just... blurt it out. "My parents are torturing ghosts in the basement." He says, only to immediately wince as both Sam and Tucker drop their jaws.

"What!?" They both yell in unison, and Danny ducks his head down as everyone else sitting around them turn their heads.

"Not so loud!" He hisses, peeking through his arms and glaring at the both of them. They both grimace, embarrassment dusting red across Sam's face and Tucker's darkening slightly, and duck their heads down towards him.

"Sorry, what!?" Tucker whispers back at him, his face all scrunched up in disbelief. Sam's redness has faded into pale horror and -- and yeah, yeah, Danny gets it. He feels that way too.

"They keep catching the ghosts and dissecting them." He whispers, and god, he feels sick just saying it. Tucker's face falls slack, and he looks about as ill as Danny feels. "I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I keep waking up to them screaming, and Jazz keeps getting into fights about it with them."

"Oh my god." Sam mutters, her hands pressing together and covering her mouth. Danny nods mutely, chewing on his lip.

"They know its hurting them." He adds, and its still dizzyingly terrifying to think about. He thought he knew his parents. He thought he knew them. He guesses that saying of people being multi-faceted was true. "They don't care."

Sam and Tucker both look green. Or as close to green as they can get. "That's- that's inhumane." Sam breathes, and Danny huffs sardonically - funny, that's what Jazz said this morning. That's what she keeps saying. "And there's really nothing you can do?"

"Not unless I go into the lab myself and release them," he mutters, hiding half his face in his arms. "And I haven't been back in there since I got electrocuted." His parents wouldn't allow it, and it's not like he he was chomping at the bits to go back inside anyways.

...Hm.

"I'm sorry, Danny." Tucker says, his voice low and horrified, "that's- that's awful."

Yeah. He knows.

--------

This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.

Where was Danny you ask? Sneaking down into the lab at sometime past midnight, long after his parents have gone to bed. It's been a week since he said, sarcastically, that the only thing he could do was release the ghosts in the lab, and it hasn't left his head.

Even though he was utterly terrified as he took slow, sneaky steps down the stairs. The thought had been keeping him up at night. He could do it. He could go down into the lab and let them go. He could do something.

It's not like his parents had put a lock on the door. He hadn't even thought about it - if he thought about it, he'd back out. So when he heard his parents go to sleep that night, he waited an hour before sneaking out.

Every sound felt so loud, and his heart had raced in his ears as he creaked open the door to the lab, and closed it behind him for good measure. And his hands were shaking as he reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the lab for the first time in two months.

And good god, did he almost regret it. There were ghosts in cages of all kinds, and ectoplasm seeping down onto the floor of their cages. They were clutching their chests, of which bled sluggishly through stitched up y-scars. They were moaning, and crying, curled up in the back like frightened animals. And there was a metal table in the center of a room that was stained green, green, green.

"Oh my god." He breathes, horror driving itself up into his throat with the churning of his gut. That's another thing he almost regrets - if only because half a dozen ghosts all snap their heads towards him, and it becomes pandemonium in an instant.

Rattling, yelling, crying, they're all screaming at him. Either to tell him to go away, to give them mercy, or to spew threats at him. It's in that same, hissy language that he's heard before. Whispery, echoing, and overlapping like multiple languages being played backwards and forwards at the same time. It gives him an immediate headache as his mind tries to comprehend and translate it.

Go away. Don't hurt us. Go away. I'll tear you apart. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.

It's all so much. Danny wants to throw himself up the stairs and back up to his room in a prey-driven instinct to flee, flee, flee. He doesn't. He covers his ears and digs his nails into his hair.

He yells. "I'M NOT LEAVING. BE QUIET!" and somehow, it silences everyone in an instant. He looks up, and everyone is staring at him, their multi-colored eyes burning into him.

Tentatively, he lowers his hands, they're shaking. He's still so scared. But courage isn't a lack of fear, its doing something despite it. He blinks back the terrified sting in his eyes, and twiddles with his hands. "I'm- I'm not here to hurt you." He stammers, "I promise. I'm not my parents."

It's silent for a long moment, and then there's an animalistic-like hiss from his left. He turns his head, and there's a ghost of a man curled up in a cage, staring him down with a thunderous look on his face. "Liar." He hisses, his voice warping in that hissy language. There are goat-like horns protruding from his head, and his eyes are yellow and slitted. He's dripping ectoplasm from his chest.

Danny swallows the bile in his throat.

And frowns. "I'm not lying." He says, and the ghost doesn't get hostile, much to his surprise. But there's a ripple of murmurs that spreads through the room like a wave at a ballgame. The ghost that spoke stares at him, then squints.

"You understand us, child?"

And - okay, Danny doesn't like the 'child' comment. He's fourteen for goodness sake, and he bristles silently like it's an insult, but he's no there to argue, he's here to help. So he swallows his pride and starts to walk towards the closed portal.

His legs are shaking, he's afraid they're gonna give out beneath him. The portal scares him, more than it did when he first saw it. But maybe that's because when he first saw it, he hadn't almost died from it.

His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it going to give out again, will he have to go to the hospital again? Despite his insistence that he's fine, Danny's heart hasn't beat right ever since the accident. He's checked. He spent an hour every night with his fingers pressed against the pulse point at his throat, at his wrist, terrified of the slow-beating he could feel thrumming against the skin.

Hearts aren't supposed to beat that slow - that much he knows. He's afraid he's going to drop dead if it drops any lower.

"Of course I do." He swallows, glancing back at the ghost. Everyone's eyes are on him, they burn into him, curious, wary, afraid. He's in front of the portal, in front of the keypad to open it. Shit, did dad put in a password? "Am I- am I not supposed to?"

He pauses to look at the ghost, and the man has moved to stare at him from a new angle in his cage - god he's gonna need to find the key. Mom and dad probably have it in their desk, right?

The ghost is silent. "...No. You're not." He says, and his head tilts to the side as Danny mentally translates in his head. he looks at Danny like he's trying to inspect him, like he's trying to look into him like his parents have looked into the ghost. "What is your name, child?"

"I'm not a child." He bites out, and immediately winces. Shit- he just said not to antagonize them. But the ghost doesn't look offended. In fact, he just grins a sharp, toothy grin like a shark, and raspy giggles and titters echo through the room.

...That's... probably a good sign. "Um," he continues, and turns his back to the keypad. Dad's birthday? He punches into the keys. "I'm- uh, Danny. Danny Fentom- Fanton- Fenton. My parents are- uh, the ones who took you guys." The keypad buzzes and the bar spots red. Wrong password. Dammit.

"Phantom." The ghost says, and the name crawls like a spider across the walls, sneaking up his spine and ringing in the air like the leftover taste of rain and thunder. the rest of the ghosts whisper it amongst themselves.

Danny shivers, it feels like a weight in his chest. It's Fenton, he thinks, but doesn't correct. He doesn't want to push his luck with the being that could tear him apart. "Uh, sure."

He punches in mom's birthday. Wrong. He puts in Jazz's. Wrong. "How come we haven't seen you down here, Phantom?" The ghost asks, and Danny shrugs helplessly. "You are the Danny that the unknown girl yells about?"

He tries his own birthday. Wrong. Fuck. What's the password? The tremor in his limbs worsens with his anxiety, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. What if he can't get this open? What if he can't get them out? He nearly forgets to answer the ghost, and licks his dry lips. "Um- yeah, that's me. The Danny guy." He says, turning to the cages again. "And uh, I don't come down here because my parents don't allow it."

The ghost, uh, goat-man? Tilts his head, there are whispers throughout the room that pick up. And Danny feels like the kid late to an all school assembly and now has to walk past the whole school to find a seat.

Goat-man smiles again, or bares his teeth? "You are the reason why the human doctors haven't cut into us more than they already have." And- that's- that's good? He thinks?

"That's- good, right? You- you don't want to be cut open, so it's good that I, uh, indirectly stopped it a few times?"

A round of titters goes through the room again. The man's grin widens inhumanly so, and Danny's heart spikes with fear. "Yes, it's a good thing, Phantom child." He says, "Why is it that your parents do not let you come down here?"

Danny stares, and swallows again, dry. The back of his neck tingles, and he tastes electricity on his tongue. "I had an accident down here, um, nearly two months ago." His eyes flick to the cable cord where the portal was plugged in, and his heart flutters with the images of green that got burned behind his eyes. He looks away. "The portal, it, ah, electrocuted me. I was in the hospital because it nearly killed me."

"It did kill you." The ghost says immediately, and terror fills up in Danny like water flooding a room. What? What? What? He was alive. His heart was beating, he was alive. "But only for a moment. You've been touched by death, Phantom."

That was so fucking ominous. And terrifying. And terrifyingly ominous. And also really horrifying. Danny does a swift pirouette and turns back to the keypad. Time to figure out the passcode and not think about that, ever again, actually.

"Wow." He rasps, his mind numb as he punches in a random code of numbers and gets a red screen. "How reassuring. Tell death I want a refund." He gets laughter again, and his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.

"It is the reason you can understand us, then." The ghost says behind him. "We are not speaking your language child - rather, you are speaking ours."

Again. Fucking ominous. Danny furrows his brows and stares hard at the keypad - if he was dad, and he wanted to put a password lock on his lifetime achievement in something that was easy to remember and equally important, what would it be?

Oh. Right.

He bites back a groan - how obvious. Danny's an idiot. Or maybe just so scared witless that his brain isn't working right. "Fudge." He grumbles, and punches it into the keypad. It dings green.

Of - fucking - course. Danny rolls his eyes.

He hears a hiss, and Danny rapidly scuttles back as the massive blast doors twisted open like something out of a scifi movie - he'd be geeking out if he wasn't aware of his own rapid heartbeat. Like a gun charging up, an unearthly green glow appears at the back of the tunnel an d then rapidly moves towards him, growing larger and larger.

Danny flinches, half-convinced its going to hit him. He was going to be vaporized, and he brings up his arms to protect himself. But nothing happens, and he peeks open an eye that he closed when the ghost from before murmurs for him to open them.

The portal is - is, well. Indescribable. It fills the dark room with its glow, swirling like a those weird, shimmering liquid dyes put into martini glasses in those aesthetic gifs on the internet. And the light it casts on the walls shimmers and moves like the aurora borealis.

Danny is speechless. It's... oddly beautiful. And terrifying. There's a whole new world in that dimension - if he steps through he won't be on earth anymore.

And... his parents wanted to eradicate the people on the other side of it?

He whirls on foot, his back to the portal - a thing that fills him with dread. his shaking - its worse. Danny almost thinks his feet will give out. "Do - do any of you know where mom and dad keep the keys to the cages?" He asks, but he's already stalking towards the desk on the other side of the room.

The people in the cages grow restless, and they've been silent for the most part - but with the portal open, and him going to find the keys, they'd begun to grow talkative. They were moving more in the cages, talking to each other, excitement filling the air with so much hope Danny could feel it resonating between his ribs.

A new voice, quiet and feminine, speaks up on the opposite side of the goat-man's cage. She's closer to the desk, and she has also been cut open. There are black tears staining her face, and her shock white hair floats like she's underwater. Immediately, on instinct, Danny's head supplies him with a word.

Banshee.

"In the bottom drawer, Phantom." She whispers, her voice lilting and melodic. Her pitch black eyes follow him across the room. "I've seen them put it there after putting us back into our cages."

He nods mutely, and again feels horrified by their treatment from his parents. His pace quickens to the desk, and just as the banshee woman said, there are keys in the bottom drawer sitting on top of a bunch of research papers that have a suspicious green stain on them.

Danny ignores the stain and grabs the keys, holding them up as he closes the drawer. When he turns back to the cages, all eyes are on him. "Um," he rasps, "I found the key." Who do I free first?

His eyes land on the banshee woman first, she's the closest to the desk. And in an arc he follows the lineup to the other side side of the room. He moves to the banshee woman's cage first, and she perks up as he kneels down to the door.

"I'll- I'll go in a circle, first." He announces, fingers fumbling with the key as he inserts it into the hole. The banshee woman had her fingers - clawed and knife-like, capable of tearing out his throat in an instant - around the bars of her confinement. She was staring at him intently.

He hesitates, and looks up. Her eyes are pitch black, he noticed this before, but this close its like its threatening to suck him in and send him swirling through a blackhole. "If- if I free you," he stammers, licking his lips, "will you attack me?"

The banshee woman bares her razor teeth at him, and reaches through the bars to touch his face. It takes all Danny's restraint not to flinch as her nails drag down his cheek softly. "No," she says, "you're freeing us, Phantom. We will not attack you."

Danny.. will just have to take her word for it. He nods, and with a sharp twist of his wrist unlocks the cage with one hand, and flings open the door with the other. In an instant, the banshee dives forward -- Danny thinks she's lunging at him, and flinches violently.

She goes through him instead, leaving him with a bone-deep chill and a heartbeat in his ears. He turns, and sees her dive through the portal like a swimmer diving into a pool.

There is silence throughout the room. And then everyone else begins to clamor once again, just like when Danny first walked in. Danny hurries to hush them - he said he was going around the room! He'll free them, but be quiet, or you'll wake his parents!

He rushes for the next cage, and one by one opens each and every cage. There are cheers, and thank yous, and cries of gratitude. He has to help the weaker ghosts out of their cage and limp them towards the portal. His shirt and hands are stained green with their blood.

(When he goes back up to his room later, he throws it off and throws it away. He can't stand the sight of it, and he scrubs his hands until they're raw.)

It's a lot for Danny to not burst into tears, or to throw up. Until finally he reaches goat-man's cage, and releases him. He is one of the ghosts too weak to fly on their own, and so Danny lets him lean against him and helps him to the portal.

"Will you be okay?" He asks once they are at the threshold, the portal hums softly this close to it. Almost like its trying to beckon Danny inside, like a siren song. Danny ignores it. "Will everyone else?"

"We will heal, Phantom." Goatman says, holding a hand to his chest. He looks tired, this close, and Danny can feel him looking at him, even without any pupils to show it. "Once back inside the Infinite Realms our bodies will heal on its own."

Danny nods silently, and his frown begins to wobble. The stress he's been under is finally starting to take its toll, and he is emotionally exhausted. There is still a lingering taste of fear in the air that doesn't belong to him - but the ghosts that have left. "I'm sorry." He croaks, his voice cracking. "I didn't - I didn't think you guys were human. I'm sorry."

The ghost's expression softens, but he still looks stern. "We aren't human." he says, and Danny frowns, confused. The ghost continues, and reaches out a long finger to tap against Danny's chest, where his heart is. "But do not think for a moment that humanity can be measured by the sound of a heartbeat, child. We are just as humane as you living can be, and we are just as sentient and sapient as you. Do not forget that, and you will not become your parents."

There's nothing for Danny to say to that, except nod once again. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, made of lead. "This will happen again," he continues, and his eyes prick, "they're gonna keep catching ghosts and bringing them down here." And hurting them.

Goatman nods curtly, and raises an eyebrow at Danny. "What will you do to stop them, Phantom?" He asks, "You could keep releasing them after they have been already caught, but that will not stop the pain they face under the hands of your parents."

He's right. He's right. And if Danny keeps releasing them afterwards, his parents will grow suspicious. They'll start sticking around trying to catch whoever is freeing the ghosts. And Danny doesn't want to face what will happen if his parents realize that he's the one freeing ghosts.

His eyes flicker rapidly around the room, trying to think of a solution - what could he do? What can he do?

His eyes land on the thermos sitting on the table.

"I... I could catch ghosts?" He says, unsure, and looks back to the ghost. He nods, beckoning for Danny to continue. "I can catch them in the thermos before my parents do, and then release them back to the Zone."

"That will work." The ghost says, "The thermos doesn't hurt to be in, it's merely cramped. Will you follow through on this?"

"Yes."

The ghost smiles at him a third and final time, his teeth glinting in the green portal light. "Then good luck, Danny Phantom."

He lets go, and disappears into the portal.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #tw mentions of blood #dpdc #clone^2 #tw mentions of experimentation #dp dc #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc au #dp x dc au #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny: my name is danny fentom - fenton #ghost: hello danny phantom #i thought that was a clever way for danny to get his 'phantom' vigilante name. although if that hadnt happened he still would've chosen #phantom as his vigilante name. it just would've happened differently. danny being terrified of the ghosts but still going through with #freeing them anyways #will rpobably reblog later with a continuation of him actually deciding to sneak out as phantom. but thats a hard maybe.#its a danny phantom fic so its kinda expected for them to be OSME kind of horror elements to it. thats the best part!#i left a few details out like how the portal light made danny's hair look white from a certain angle from where the light was hitting it #alerting all ghosts but danny that danny has been affected by the infinite realms in some way and was not as human as he seemed.#altho that was obvious by the fact that he could understand ghostspeak when no living being should be able to #ghost: dont judge humanity by the sound of a heartbeat #i had another tag i was gonna put here - what was it??? will add later if. i remember #NOW I REMEMBER #parental ambuigity from the fenton parents. are they good are they bad? up to interpretation

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varpusvaras · 4 months ago

Text

They don't sleep during the first night.

They have turns resting. General Kenobi stays up first, after Fox has managed to get Leia to sleep. Fox lays down next to Leia on the one bed in the small house and he closes his eyes.

He doses off, free of nightmares for the first time since leaving. Maybe it's because of the presence of a Jedi, Fox doesn't know. He's thankful for it anyway.

Then it's his turn, and General Kenobi sits on the floor next to the bed and closes his eyes, and he stays very still until the suns start to rise.

Then Leia wakes up, and Fox feeds her after General Kenobi has made them breakfast, and then they wait.

No one comes.

Fox plays with Leia. Feeds her again. Puts her down for a nap. He checks his communicator. It's silent.

Leia wakes up. Fox plays with her while General Kenobi makes then dinner. Fox feeds her and forces his own meal down. He cannot afford not to eat, no matter how tight his insides feel and how little appetite he has.

Fox puts Leia to bed. She is also calmer here than she had been in the ship. That makes Fox suspect even more that General Kenobi has something to do with it.

Fox doesn't ask.

Leia falls asleep, and Fox sits there, at the edge of the bed, and stares at the window.

The desert has cooled down by now, but it still feels like the heat is lingering inside. An invisible, uncomfortable force, pressing down on Fox's skin, and he cannot escape it anywhere.

The desert around them is quiet. Leia sleeps peacefully next to him.

Fox is just waiting for the door to be shot down and for the Empire to come flooding in like a rush of red, hot blood.

General Kenobi breaks the silence first.

"I noticed the glow last night", he says, and points at his neck when Fox turns to look at him.

"Yes", Fox says. "It's difficult to conceal, even with extensive bacta treatments, since it is so close to skin and bone."

General Kenobi hums quietly.

"Is that how you survived?" He asks then.

Fox thinks briefly of the pain and the numbness, of his body being kept alive for him, of the crunch of his bones as they had been broken and then set again, and of the weightless hours spend submerged.

"Yes", he answers.

General Kenobi nods. They don't talk more of it.

"You didn't say how they found out", he says.

"I am not sure", Fox tells him. "But they knew where to come to look for her, so they must've found out that Bail was there when she died."

General Kenobi leans his jaw against his hand as he thinks.

"We don't know if they know about both of them, then", he says. "Or just about her."

"If they know about them both", Fox says, "and located only one child on Alderaan, they most likely think that the boy is with you."

General Kenobi nods again.

"So they would have to find me first", he murmurs. He looks out of the window, towards the silent dunes.

Fox looks at Leia.

"Do they live close by?" He asks.

"Relatively", General Kenobi answers. "Distances on Tatooine are long, even the shorter ones. But they could very quickly trace my location to theirs."

"It's too risky for us to be here, then", Fox says.

Leia is his priority. Fox would do anything for her. But he cannot put her brother in danger, either, to keep her safe. It's not fair.

Has anything ever been, though?

General Kenobi turns to look at him.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" He asks. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

Fox shakes his head.

"Then, for the time being", General Kenobi says, "this is the safest place for us all."

He sounds gently confident, like he is trying to reassure Fox of the truth of his words.

Fox has no other options than to believe him right now.

Leia sniffles, and her face scrunches up slightly. Fox runs his finger over the bridge of her nose, until she calms back down.

General Kenobi is watching them when Fox turns back towards him.

"Go to sleep, Commander", he says. "I'll take the first watch."

"Just Fox, please", Fox says. He is not a Commander anymore, after all. Just Fox.

"Alright", General Kenobi says. "I'm just Ben, now."

Fox doesn't think the name really suits the General.

Perhaps he can sense Fox's thoughts, because he smiles slightly.

"Things change, don't they?" He says. "Now, please. Go to sleep, Fox."

Fox doesn't argue with him. He lays down next to Leia, and when she wriggles a bit, he strokes her short, soft hair gently, until she settles once again.

Then Fox closes his eyes and falls into a dreamless sleep.

#a bit more for the runaway au!#we will be seeing how bail and breha are doing next #so brace for that #rn fox and obi-wan are playing house with leia #sw #tcw #Star Writing #my writing #snippets #Commander Fox #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Leia Organa #bail/breha/fox (implied)#Runaway AU

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geekforhorror · 1 year ago

Note

thoughts on riding tired ani?

DUDE I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS I CANT.

also i’ll do you one better and write a FIC all about it because i love this request sm

—————

next to you

pairing: rots!anakin x senator fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), sub!anakin, dom!reader, riding, p in v sex, penetration, pet names, teasing, reader being sexy as hell, fluff at the end, etc.

word count: 2.3k

—————

To say it had been a long day for Anakin would have been the understatement of the century. He had been watching over the younglings in the Jedi Temple all day and most of the night while the jedi masters were away on a business venture. Even Yoda being there would’ve made it better. He loved the younglings, but they were too riled up today. The extensive training the younglings required exhausted him just as much as them. Despite this, there was one thought that kept him going throughout the long work day. Coming home to you. Even though it technically wasn’t his home due to the suspicion it would raise to the other Jedis, you made it feel like his home. So you could imagine the relief he felt when the masters returned, which let him finally jump into his speeder and focus on getting home.

————

You were cooking dinner for the two of you to enjoy when you suddenly heard an engine running just outside of your guys’ apartment. You got excited at the thought of him returning home and wrapping your arms around Anakin. You took the dinner out of the sauce pan and placed it on two plates— one for you and one for him. You had made spaghetti and meatballs, which was his favorite, especially after a long day.

Suddenly, you hear the elevator open and there he was. He looked so tired to the point where he could’ve been mistaken for a zombie or even a force ghost. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was disheveled as well, yet he still looked good.

“Hey baby,” you said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said to you with a tired tone in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him out of concern.

“Nothing, just a long day at the temple,” he says flatly.

“I’m sorry, Ani,” you say sympathetically.

“Don’t be, my love. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. It would’ve been nice if the other masters were there,” Anakin says.

“You’re a stronger person than I am, darling,” you say with a chuckle. He lets out a weak chuckle at your comment and sits at the table, drained of any energy he may have had.

You decide to break the silence between the two of you and try to make small talk since that was all he was in the mood for right now. “I made us some dinner. It’s your favorite!” you exclaim in a chipper voice.

“Love, you shouldn’t have,” he says with a calm voice.

“I wanted to,” you say with a smile before kissing him on the lips. You noticed the expression in Anakin’s face and it was a rather sad one. “What’s wrong Ani?”

“It’s just that you worked so hard on dinner, but I’m too tired and stressed to enjoy or even eat it,” he says with defeat in his voice.

“I thought you were just tired,” you question.

“I just didn’t want you to worry about me,” he admits.

“Anakin, I’ll always worry about you whether I want to or not,” you say.

“I appreciate it, darling,” he says tiredly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you offer.

Anakin lets a sigh escape his lips before responding. “It’s just a lot of pressure, y’know? I mean I have to go on missions, fight, and look after the younglings. It’s just a lot for me and I feel like I’m not fulfilling my role as a Jedi,” Anakin confesses.

“You expect too much of yourself, Ani. You’re an amazing Jedi and I’m so proud of you,” you say out of pure love.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Anakin says to you.

“I love you too. More than you know,” you say with a big smile on your face.

He didn’t know if it was just the atmosphere in the room or because of the long day he had, but he hungrily kisses you out of nowhere with desire, leaving you surprised.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” he says in a soft but tired voice.

“I missed you too,” you let out.

He stands up and pulls your legs around his hips, causing you to let out a giddy laugh. “I think I can help you with some of that stress,” you whisper into his ear.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges.

“Yeah,” you replied with a hint of lust on your face.

He takes your hint and the two of you make your way towards the bedroom. He lays you down on the mattress before he climbs on top of you. You decide to take charge and you manage to get on top of him.

“Let me take care of you Ani,” you say seductively before kissing away at his neck. He lets out the tiniest whimper and you find yourself amused. He was so needy for you and only you. “Do you want this, sweetie?” you ask in an attempt to make sure he wasn’t vulnerable enough before you did anything.

“Fuck yeah,” he lets out, which causes you to smile.

“I’m gonna treat you so well,” you say. You continue to kiss his neck before undoing his robe, letting it slide off his beautiful figure. You let it hit the floor and reach for the hem of his tunics in an attempt to tease him. You slide one of your hands underneath his garments and caress his toned stomach, causing him to let out an inaudible gasp.

“You like this, don’t you?” you ask even though you already know the answer.

“Y-Yes,” he whimpers.

“What do you want, Ani?” you coo, now sucking away at his neck once more.

“I-I want you to ride me,” he lets out, being more embarrassed than ever.

“That’s a good boy,” you whisper.

He says nothing more as you pull his tunics off him and discard them on the floor. “What’s this?” you say with a raised eyebrow as you palm his hard on through his trousers. “Fuck…” he lets out as a breathy sigh.

“Want me to take these off?” you say with a smirk.

“Maker, yes,” he replies, more desperate than ever.

You let out a chuckle at Anakin’s response and you proceed to undo his utility belt and the zipper on his pants. You glide your hands down his legs to slide his pants off him and you successfully do so.

“I can’t wait to put your beautiful cock inside me until it splits me open and raw,” you say, knowing it would turn him on and make him even needier for your cunt. Here he is now, only in his tight boxers. It was truly suffocating for him. You finally give him some mercy now by stripping him of his boxers and he couldn’t be more relieved. “This isn’t fair… You’re still wearing all of your clothes,” he complains.

“Demanding, are we?” you ask rhetorically. He nods his head once more and you can feel your pride grow.

“All you had to do was ask, Ani,” you say before slipping your long, flowy dress off your body, leaving you only in your bra and matching panties, rendering Anakin speechless. “You wanna be a good boy and help me out here?” you ask.

“Y-Yes,” he answers. He reaches for the clasp on your bra and unhooks it, letting the straps fall down your shoulders. Anakin tries to take your panties off, but he’s stopped by your hand. “Not so fast…don’t you want to feel how wet you make me?” you ask breathily.

“Maker, yes,” he lets out. You grab his wrist before making his hand trail downwards until he hits the damp part of your panties. “All for me?” he asks pathetically. “Mhm…just for you,” you respond. You slip your panties off your wet pussy and teasingly throw them across the room. “I need you inside me already…please,” he begs of you. “Patience, Ani,” you let out.

You reposition the two of you so that you can sit on top of him accordingly. You wanted this just as much as he did, so who were you to deny him of such pleasure? You waste no more time before sinking yourself on his erection, now feeling him inside you, which caused you to let out an unexpected moan. He lays his hands on both sides of your hip bones to give you support. You instinctively start to buck your hips while you were gliding down on his cock. Anakin starts to provide some more friction between the two of you and you can’t hold back anymore.

You start to roughly thrust while he’s inside you and you feel a pool of ecstasy wash over you and your cunt. The newfound sensation had him throwing his head back as you continued your thrusts. “H-Harder,” he whimpers. You smile at this and you comply with his request. To help you out, Anakin pushes harder into you repeatedly until he’s balls deep inside your cervix, causing you to become even more cock drunk. More moans had escaped from his lips, but he didn’t seem to care because he just needed you to ride him like there was no tomorrow and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“You’re such a good boy for me Ani…feels so good,” you say. You felt his tip twitch inside your clenched walls, hitting your sensitive g-spot. You knew that the both of you would be nearing your climax sooner rather than later considering that both of you had slowed down each others pace. “Such a big dick, Ani…fills me up every damn time,” you praise.

“I’m gonna cum,” he pants raggedly as you continue to animalistically bounce on him while grabbing his hips in order to hit the right angle in your needy walls. Gasps and moans fill the room at the sudden change of motion, but it didn’t matter. You can feel your climax approaching, but you had the strong urge to hold it until after Ani came. His hips start to stutter uncontrollably and his pace was slower than before. Anakin was screwed.

“I can’t hold it in much longer, baby,” he cries out like a bitch in heat.

“Then cum inside me… It always feels so good when you do,” you admit. With that, you bounce on him a few more times just in case he needs the extra sensation. You know it works because within seconds of you doing so, you feel his warm seed spill into you and you loved it. After feeling him fill you up with his cum, you finally let yourself orgasm after holding it in. Your arousal splashes both Ani’s dick and your inner thighs, causing a big mess on your guys’ bodies. Realizing he’s still inside you, he pulls out of you at once.

"That was fucking amazing,” he pants out.

“I can’t disagree with that,” you chuckle. “We should probably clean up here,” you suggest.

“Yeah we probably should,” he says with a laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, getting off of him to head to the bathroom for some towels. You open the bathroom closet and grab the nearest hand towels you can find. Once you have them, you walk over to the sink to dampen them with warm water. After feeling that they are wet enough, you head back to his bedroom and sit on the bed with Anakin.

“I can clean you up if you want,” you offer, now dangling the wet rag in his face.

“That’s an offer I could never turn down,” he says tiredly with an idiotic laugh.

“God you’re such a dork, Ani,” you say jokingly as you clean him off with the towel.

“A dork who made you moan,” he corrects with a snicker.

“Ani!” you gasp as you jokingly slap his arm.

“Ouch,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll tell you what… You can clean me up if you don’t make any more stupid dad jokes,” you say jokingly.

“Deal, but I know it’ll break your heart to not hear any,” he says mockingly.

You scoff sarcastically and you hand him a new rag to clean you up with. He rubs the rag against you for a bit, collecting the mess you made. After doing so, he walks up to the hamper and places the soiled towels in. On his way back to the bed, he picks up your guys’ underwear before handing it to you. You slip the garment on your body as does he. Once you finish putting your panties on, you head over to your closet to pick something to wear to bed. You grabbed a blue, flowy nightgown that would compliment your figure. You slip the nightgown on and you feel much more comfortable in it than you did in your other dress.

“Do you want your pajamas or not?” you ask Anakin.

“Yeah, could you get me the black pajama pants from the drawer?” he replies.

“Sure thing,” you say before retrieving them from the appropriate drawer. You walk over to him and hand the garment over. He quickly changes into his pants shortly after.

“Thanks, my love,” he says admiringly before he kisses you on the lips,

“Still too tired for that dinner?” you ask. It takes him a second to answer you because of his current disheveled state, but eventually answered within a few passing seconds.

“Now that I think about it, I could eat,” he says with a grin. The two of you casually walk out of your room before entering the kitchen and sitting at the nicely set table.

“Maybe I should stay at the temple longer everyday if it means I get this reward every time I come home from a long day,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky…” you reply with a smirk. With that being said, the two of you start eating dinner and have an enlightening conversation.

You guys could get used to this.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #star wars anakin #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #revenge of the sith #slashers #horror movies #scream franchise

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