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bucksangel · 10 months ago

Text

you taste like suburbia

pairing: mafia!stucky x reader (poly), john walker x reader but not for long

word count: 6.4k

summary: your lousy boyfriend John Walker owes quite a bit of money to some pretty shady people. And since he doesn’t have the means to pay, he’s brought you along to a negotiation to meet them - and hopefully entice them into accepting a different form of payment.

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con kind of, a tiny bit of stalking/dark behavior (it’s only hinted at), voyeurism i guess?, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), threesome, poly relationship, petnames (princess, kitten, beautiful), daddy kink, sir kink, unprotected p in v, a little bit of misogyny (not from stucky), not john walker friendly, mentioned verbal abuse, mention of murder (you have to squint and turn your head 90 degrees)

a/n: this is based off this post and @crazyunsexycool ‘s very amazing comments (title is from ‘suburbia’ by devon again)

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“It’s simple, really.” The men across from you have been staring you down this whole time, eyes barely leaving your body and that’s only to occasionally glance at the man sitting next to you. And though they’re looking at you, you know their words aren’t directed your way. No. It’s for John.

John Walker; your shitty boyfriend who, apparently, has got himself into a lot of trouble with some pretty shady people. You don’t know much, you just know that he has a debt to pay and he doesn’t have the funds.

And you’re not stupid, you know how this will go. Your relationship with John started good, great in fact, but then he fell back into his old gambling ways a few months in. You wanted to leave, to kick him to the curb the moment he asked you for money to cover some bills. But you were too kind-hearted for your own good and felt the need to help him just because you loved him. But the deeper into trouble he’s gotten the less he’s actually cared about you, too focused on getting his debts paid off so he doesn’t get a bullet in his head.

Thus, you’re here. Forced to wear that dark red, wrap-around dress that shows just enough to be desired in the hopes that will entice the men across from you into accepting a different form of payment. Fifteen minutes into the ‘meeting’ you can already tell that they’re going to accept. And you don’t really know what to do in this situation, you know you don’t really have a say in how this plays out, but some part of you doesn’t really mind. Part of you is glad you’ll finally be free from John’s bullshit.

It just helps that the men your boyfriend owes money to are extremely attractive. Both men don dark black suits, white button-ups, and sleek black ties. And the brunette - Bucky, maybe? - smirks when he catches your eye after having been staring at his hand grasping a cigarette for a few moments before glancing up at his face. With a wink, he turns his head towards his partner - Steve, if you remember correctly.

“You owe us quite a bit of money, but you already knew that. We also know that you don’t have the means to pay us.”

From beside you, you can feel John shaking in his seat. With just a glance in his direction, you can see the beads of sweat forming around his hairline at Steve’s commanding tone.

“We’re assuming that’s why you brought her, isn’t it?” With that question, both men look back at you, the hunger in their eyes is prominent. And part of you wants to cower in your chair, to wrap your arms around your body and hide from their intense gazes. But a bigger part of you likes it, craves being desired. Lord knows John hasn’t looked at you like that in a long while.

“Um,” John stops himself, seems to not know what exactly to say. But then Bucky raises one of his eyebrows and John is quick to continue. “Y-Yes, sirs.”

Steve hums, bringing up his glass to take a long sip of his liquor of choice. Bucky takes a short drag of his cigarette before speaking up.

“And if we don’t accept the arrangement?”

John starts really vibrating out of his seat now, both of his legs bouncing furiously. One of his hands rubs over the back of his other, and he gulps loudly.

“I-I don’t… Please. I don’t have the money right now. And, she’s good in bed. She’ll listen to whatever you say, so she’ll please you guys whenever you need, she can even cook and clean so she can be a maid for you too.”

His words make you want to vomit, talking about you like you’re nothing more than a whore, a piece of meat to be passed around and commanded. Your eyes narrow, glaring over at your asshole boyfriend as you begin to pick at your fingernails with a mixture of anxiety and anger.

Steve surprises you by slamming his glass down onto the dark oak desk in front of him, some of the liquid inside spilling out.

“And what makes you think you can talk about a woman like that?” His voice is booming, and the tension in the air is palpable. It’s hard to hide the smile that wants to spread across your face, but you manage to not show your smugness when John sits up straight and begins sputtering out an apology.

“Enough,” Bucky says, taking another long drag and then putting out the cigarette. As he exhales out the smoke, he makes sure to blow it in your boyfriend’s direction, and you have to look down at your lap to prevent the men from seeing your smirk at the show of dominance.

With a glance at his partner, they seem to have a silent conversation before Steve nods, looking back at John while Bucky looks at you.

“We’ll accept. If nothing else then to get her away from you.”

Even with the passive-aggressive comment, you can see the way John’s body visibly relaxes, and can hear the sigh of relief that passes through his lips.

You on the other hand don’t quite know what to do. Yeah, you’re glad you’ve found a way out of this toxic relationship, but you’re also very aware that this major adjustment in your life was made without your consent or input. This thought immediately makes all the satisfaction drain from your body, and you keep your gaze averted so the men across from you can’t see the underlying fear growing in your eyes.

Because you don’t know these men. You’ve never even heard of them until now. All you know is that anyone connected to the dark underworld that is the mafia couldn’t possibly be a good person. For a moment, you’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realize all of the men are staring at you.

“Wh-What?” Your throat is a little dry due to not having spoken in a while, and you try your hardest not to let your voice waver.

“Are you okay with this?” Steve asks with an uncharacteristically soft smile and calm voice. He’s asking you how you feel about this? Why? Shouldn’t this be the end, the part where your boyfriend leaves and you uproot your life to live as payment for his debts?

Apparently not.

“Why are you asking me?” Confusion is laden in your tone, your eyebrows furrowing and your fingers picking at your nails even harsher.

“Because, beautiful,” Bucky starts, waving to a red-headed woman who suddenly appears with water for you. “We don’t want you thinking this is purely transactional. You’re not property, you’re a grown woman and you deserve to have a say in your life. If you don’t want to come with us, that’s okay. We’ll extend our contract with your dear boyfriend.”

Steve speaks up next.

“But if you do want to come with us, we’ll show you how real men treat ladies.” His eyes grow hungry for half a second, then return to that unnerving adoring gaze.

Everything grows silent for a moment, everyone awaiting your answer. As you look over at John, his face is contorted in fear of what they’ll do if you deny them, and anger - silently demanding that you say yes. And, looking over at him, you finally realize he’s never been who you thought he was. Even when he was being an asshole, when he would steal from you, when he would yell and scream and verbally abuse you because he lost even more money, you were so blinded by trying to help him that you couldn’t accept that you were being used.

Now, you know. You know that even if you don’t know these men, the fact that they’re even asking for your opinion says more than anything John could ever do. With one final look at him, you sigh, looking Steve in the eyes.

“I’ll go with you.”

Not only does John visibly relax, but you can see some of the tension leave Bucky and Steve’s bodies, almost like they were hoping that you would say yes.

“It’s settled then.” Steve’s smile turns into a sly smirk, and he momentarily shifts his gaze to John. “Your debt has been paid.”

John tries thanking him, tries to thank the men for sparing his life, but Bucky cuts him off by clearing his throat.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with that comment, though.”

With that, Steve nods at the redhead who comes to stand behind John. In one swift movement, she puts one hand on his shoulder and one hand grabs the inside of his elbow, and she twists. The sounds of his bones cracking are loud, but his screams are louder, his cries of pain reverberating throughout the office. And, as much as you want to feel bad for him, you can’t find it in you to do so. The last two years have been hell for you, and seeing him in pain feels a little like payback for all the pain he caused you. You simply sit there and stare as the woman grabs both of his shoulders and hauls him up, ignoring his cries while dragging him to the door.

The woman follows him out, leaving just you and the two men. For a moment, neither of you speaks, almost like you’re all waiting for the other person to say something.

“So, um. What happens now?” You look at Bucky as he stands and walks around the desk, holding his hand out and encouraging you to grab it. Once you do, you let him help you stand and move you so you’re nearly pressed against his body, a heavy, black metal hand settling on your waist as he brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

“Now we take you home,” Bucky says softly, staring deep into your eyes and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

“We’ll have our associates pick up your things,” Steve says, suddenly standing so close behind you that you can feel the heat from his body. His large hands settle on your shoulders, gently massaging your muscles and allowing any remaining tension in your body to slip away.

“And you won’t have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.” Bucky presses his body against yours further, holding your gaze for a long while before he leans down to place a delicate kiss on your cheekbone, very close to your ear. “Your only concern will be taking care of us, and letting us take care of you.”

In order to not moan you have to clear your throat, focusing all of your attention on not melting into a puddle at their feet. Steve leans down to place a kiss on your other cheek, sighing softly as though he’s been waiting for this. You hesitantly place one hand on Bucky’s arm and one on Steve’s hand, and he immediately threads your fingers together.

“Home?” Bucky asks, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Home,” You say without a second thought, already liking the idea of being with them, being theirs.

____________

You all get back to their mansion, because of course they live in a mansion, about an hour later. It’s in a woodsy and remote area of upstate New York with no neighbors for a good two miles, and upon driving through the gates and down the long driveway your eyes go wide, everything is just so big. The fountain in the front yard stands almost as tall as the three-story house, several expensive-looking cars are parked off to the left near what you assume is the garage, and you’re pretty sure you can spot a greenhouse in the backyard.

As soon as the car is stopped two men appear on either side of it, opening the doors for Steve and Bucky and letting them step out. A woman - the same redhead from earlier - comes up to your door and opens it, reaching out her hand and guiding you out.

“I’m Natasha,” She says with a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, jumping slightly when an arm wraps around your waist.

“It’s nothing, beautiful.” When you look up at Bucky, you see him giving Natasha a look that you can tell is a silent demand to stop talking. Then, he turns to you, pulling you close to his side. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

Despite a spark of uneasiness popping up, you walk with him, Steve appearing by your other side and taking your hand in his and once again threading your fingers together. He gives you a warm smile, squeezing your hand. “We’ll give you a tour later, for now, we just want you to relax.”

As you walk through the entrance, your eyes open even wider than before. Not only is the foyer huge, but the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling illuminates the area beautifully and your heels make clicking noises on the pristine tile floor. You let your eyes wander as you walk up the grand staircase, admiring the artwork on the walls while you’re led through a large living area and down a hallway to a door.

And when they open it, dear lord you just want to scream. It’s bigger than the one-bedroom apartment that you shared with John. There’s a huge canopy bed off to the left, a massive TV mounted on the opposite wall, and a reading nook against the floor-to-ceiling window with a long bookshelf on the wall next to it - ending a few feet from the bed. There’s plants hanging from the ceiling and potted ones in each corner of the room, and an open door off to the right gives you a peak at what must be the bathroom but resembles more of a spa.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and it makes you feel at home.

“How do you like it?” Steve asks, both men tugging and leading you further into the room when they notice you’ve frozen while taking everything in.

“I love it,” You say quickly, smiling at them as you walk towards the bed so you can run your fingers along the silk bed sheets. “It’s beautiful.”

“Good.” Bucky appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. “You deserve beautiful things.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, warmth filling your body. These men are already showing you more affection than John had during your entire relationship, and it simultaneously hurts your heart that you stayed with an ungrateful and uncaring man for so long while also making you happy that you’ve fallen into the laps of men with high standards of how to treat a woman.

“We’ll let you rest up, now.” Steve comes up to you and works his arm between your back and Bucky’s body so he can hold your waist. He leans down and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, bringing up his other hand to cradle your head so he can really breathe in your scent.

“Wait.”

Immediately Bucky and Steve pull away, and when you turn around and look up at them you can see the concern written on their face.

“This is my room?”

Bucky nods, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. Is it okay? We can redecorate if you want, just tell us what you like and we’ll do it.”

You shake your head, placing one hand on Bucky’s chest and the other on Steve’s.

“N-no. No, I love it. I just thought…” You trail off, biting your lip. You’re not too sure how to phrase your thoughts, but you try your hardest when the men continue to stare at you. “I guess I just thought you would want me to sleep in your room.”

Bucky sighs and pulls you close, placing one hand on the back of your head while Steve saddles up beside him to grasp your hip.

“While we would absolutely love having you in our bed,” Bucky stops to swipe his tongue along his bottom lip and you have to fight the urge to lean up on your toes to bite it. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“We know this is a big adjustment,” Steve says, smiling down at you when you look at him. “So we don’t want to make you do something that would make you uncomfortable.”

The men go silent, as do you, allowing you to process their words. They’re right, of course. This is all so new for you, and even though you’re more than ready - you’ve been deprived of physical contact and a good orgasm for a while - you know it wouldn’t be a good decision to jump into a relationship like this so soon after leaving your ex.

Fuck good decisions.

“What if…” You trail off, biting your lip nervously. Deciding to be bold, you trail the hand on Bucky’s chest up until you can cup his cheek, smiling when he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“What if I do want to?” You glance over at Steve, batting your eyelashes and fighting the shiver that wants to run through your body when he groans, low and utterly sexy.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” Bucky asks, his voice dropping while moving his free hand to your back, slowly inching down until he can rest it on your ass, but not squeezing.

“I -“ Suddenly a whine is forced out of your mouth when Steve moves your hair and leans down so he can kiss and nibble at your neck. “Steve!”

Then, Bucky dips down while pulling your head closer to his so he can press a searing kiss on your lips, swallowing your moan as he squeezes and kneads your ass.

“Tell us what you want, kitten,” Steve murmurs, biting and sucking a dark bruise on your neck and laughing when you pull away from Bucky’s lips with a huff.

“I - fuck.” Your whining is bordering on desperation. The lack of physical and sexual contact for the last few months has finally caught up to you, and you’re about to cry with how needy you feel. “I want you to fuck me.”

Both men curse, Steve nodding but not removing his mouth from the column of your throat. And maybe if your head wasn’t already fogged over with desire you’d have heard Bucky’s muttered “finally.” As it is though, you don’t pay attention to anything other than their hands caressing and groping your body, the men working in tandem to strip you of your dress and lay you flat on your back in the middle of the bed.

Both men stand at the end of the bed, staring at you with dark lust in their eyes as Bucky palms his crotch. They stare for so long that you start to get self-conscious, wondering what they’re thinking. It was always quick with John, he never really focused on your pleasure but rather worried about getting himself off and asking with an infuriatingly smug grin if it was good. It never was, but you never told him that, you hate confrontation. So it’s a little unnerving to have sex be drawn out, to be the center of attention - and the attention coming from the two hottest men on the planet makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’re about to cover yourself with your arms when Bucky kneels on the bed and grabs one of your wrists, Steve appearing next to you so he can grab your other one.

“Don’t,” Bucky says hoarsely, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t hide from us, kitten.”

An involuntary moan forces its way up your throat and out of your mouth, and you find yourself agreeing with a quick nod. “I-I’m sorry,” You whine, arching into Steve’s hand that has now found a home on your covered breast.

“Don’t be sorry, princess,” Steve murmurs trailing his hand from your breast to your neck, toying with the necklace John had given you on your sixth-month anniversary. You haven’t taken it off since, it felt like a mark of ownership. And at first, it felt good, you loved knowing you were John’s girl. However, as the relationship progressed and worsened with every day, it felt more like a chain, weighing you down and forcing you to stay tethered to him. Yes, it had occurred to you to take it off a few times, but you weren’t ready for it to end. Even though it was an extremely toxic relationship, you had nowhere to go.

“Did he give you this?” Steve asks, disdain clear in his voice. And when you nod, he hovers over you, smirking as he grips the necklace and pulls, the chain snapping in two as he flings it across the room. Ignoring your shocked gasp, Steve and Bucky lean back and get off the bed, resuming their earlier position near the end of it.

“She’s perfect, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs after a long moment of silence. Putting a hand on the back of his partner’s neck, he yanks him forward, pulling him into a downright filthy kiss that makes your legs immediately squeeze shut to relieve the growing ache in your core.

At your loud and needy whine, they pull away, both men working in sync to get undressed and hurry to lay on either side of you. Both of them have kept their boxers on, but the very large bulge straining against the fabric does absolutely nothing to hide their arousal.

“Are you sure you want this?” Bucky asks, and even though you can hear the desperation in his voice, you know deep in your bones that they would stop if you said no. And that just further cements your decision, you need them, you need to feel them and kiss them and have them worship you in ways John could never.

“I’m sure, Bucky.”

“Call me ‘Daddy’, princess,” He says, reaching up a hand and placing it on your throat. He doesn’t choke you, but the pressure lets you know that he wants to.

“I’m sure, Daddy.”

Bucky groans as though he’s been punched in the gut, and his hips jerk forward, rubbing his erection into your thigh. He dives down and captures your lips in a heated kiss, momentarily distracting you from everything around you. That is until you feel a hand travel down your stomach, ignoring your underwear and slipping inside to quickly cup your wet and aching pussy.

Pulling away, you let out another gasp, your gaze immediately shooting to your left to see Steve’s very smug smirk.

“Feel good?” He asks as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly moving his middle finger up and down your slit until he finally pushes through, slipping the thick digit into your quivering hole all the way to the third knuckle.

“Oh God, yes! Yes, Steve.” He pulls his finger out momentarily, only to shove in two fingers - once again pushing in all the way.

“Sir,” Steve growls, leaning down to nibble at your ear. His gravely chuckle when you mumble, “Yes, sir,” sends tingles down your spine, and you’re near tears with how good but not enough his fingers feel.

“I-I need…” You trail off, whining pathetically when Steve removes his fingers again. You whine even louder when Steve pulls his hand out of your panties altogether, letting you see his fingers covered in your juices glinting in the moonlight. The sight doesn’t last long, because Bucky immediately dips down to suck on them, both men groaning in pleasure. The brunette doesn’t swallow though, he actually lets the fingers slip free from his mouth so he can capture his partner’s lips, letting Steve taste you too.

“Fuck,” You whimper, hands automatically tugging at both of their boxers in an attempt to move things along. “Please just fuck me already.”

They separate from each other, grinning wolfishly at each other for a moment before glancing down at your cute pout and pleading eyes.

“What’s the rush?” Steve asks, dipping down to give you a brief kiss. “We’ve got all night.”

Thankfully, though, they get with the program, maneuvering your body to their liking until your bra and panties are also discarded. And you’re about to undo the strap on your heels before Bucky grabs your ankle, shaking his head in disapproval.

“You’re keeping these on.” His command sends shivers down your spine, and you can’t even speak anymore with how turned on you are. Despite this, you somehow manage to whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s good,” Steve says, moving to kneel on the bed next to your head while he palms his bulge with one hand and squeezes your cheeks between his fingers with the other. “You’re going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” You say enthusiastically, nodding your head as best as you can. And due to Steve holding your head in place, you can’t see what Bucky is doing, but you feel your legs being pushed wide open as the bed dips between them.

“Good,” Steve mutters mostly to himself, giving you an unnervingly soft smile for the situation. “Now, Bucky’s been dying to taste you since he first laid eyes on you, so you’re going to let him worship your pussy while I fuck your mouth. Okay?”

If you weren’t already drunk with pleasure, this would’ve been the thing to send you under. His commanding tone and the heat of Bucky’s mouth so close to your dripping core already have you on edge, ready to snap at the slightest touch. And when you nod, Steve turns to his partner, nodding once and smirking when he dives in, parting your pussy lips and licking a long stripe from your hole to your throbbing clit, where he then sucks it into his mouth.

The borderline scream you emit is so loud you’d be surprised if anyone on this floor didn’t hear it, but it’s quickly muffled by Steve shoving his boxers down and easing his cock into your gaping mouth. Now, you’ve never really liked giving head - well, with John anyway. He was always too rough, and the fact that he never returned the favor made it seem more like a chore than anything.

But you could definitely get used to this. Steve’s girth stretches your lips wider than ever before, and even through the haze of pleasure, you can tell that he’s holding back, letting you get used to the stretch. It doesn’t take long, and a particularly rough nip to your clit has you sucking Steve’s cock further into your mouth, and the man curses above you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Steve sighs, rocking his hips forward ever so slightly. When he finds little resistance, he pulls back and pushes in a little further, groaning deep in his chest when you bring up a hand to tug at his balls.

“Taste so fuckin’ good too, princess,” Bucky mumbles against your pussy, pulling away only briefly so he can easily slide two metal fingers in as deep as they could possibly go. It’s clear that his goal is to make you cum, and you’re not that far off. To be frank, your arousal has been building from the moment you met them, and they are not disappointing.

It only takes a few more thrusts of Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s hand coming down to wrap around your throat for you to cum - your cunt spasming and hips thrusting up into Bucky’s face as you chase your high. Soon enough, both men retreat from your body, giving you a short reprieve while they rid themselves of their underwear. Steve moves you so he can lay back against the headboard, adjusting your position so you can rest in between his legs with your back against his chest while Bucky hovers over you.

“Now, princess,” He murmurs, just loud enough for both of you to hear him, and taps your arm. “You’re going to hold onto Stevie while I ruin this pussy. Then, he’s goin’ to fuck my cum back into you.”

“Oh God yes, yes please, Daddy!” If your mind wasn’t deep in the pits of desire you’d probably be embarrassed by how needy you are, maybe even ashamed. Right now, though, you can’t imagine feeling anything but pure pleasure and happiness.

It all happens so fast, Steve grabbing the backs of your thighs so he can spread them wide and Bucky quickly following by pushing his cock - easily the longest you’ve ever taken - halfway into your cunt. He stops there for a moment, letting you get used to the sudden stretch before surprising you by pulling out until his tip is only poking in.

You’re frustrated, extremely so, and you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he doesn’t fill you back up. And you’re about to start whining when the man above you thrusts forward, burying his cock so deep in your pussy that you swear you could feel him in your throat. Deep and guttural groans fill the air, a metal hand grasping your thigh and keeping it spread so Steve can wrap his arm around your midsection and hold you close while the pace quickly picks up.

And you’re in heaven, this must be heaven. Because in no other plane of existence would the two most handsome men in the world be touching and gripping you like you’re a priceless gem they’re afraid to lose. From behind you, Steve groans every time Bucky pushes into you, forcing you to shift in Steve’s lap and subconsciously grind into his throbbing erection.

“Fuck, kitten,” Bucky mutters, bracing one hand on the headboard and dropping your leg so he can grab your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look into his eyes - dark with a desire you’ve never known. But there’s something else there, something primal that no ordinary man could have, a sense of possessiveness and ownership that seeps out of his pores.

You can’t do anything except moan, your mouth parting wider to let out a scream when Bucky shifts slightly, thrusting and hitting that special spongey spot deep within you dead on.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she Stevie?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Steve says softly, running the hand he has on your stomach down to your pussy to rub at your hole, feeling where you and his partner are connected. “Always knew she would be.”

Thankfully for them, those words fly over your head. You’re already too fucked-out to think properly, do you even know what your name is?

When Steve swiftly moves his fingers to your clit, your answer is a confident no. All you can seem to focus on are these two men and the immense pleasure they’re giving you. And it takes only a few more thrusts for you to feel that coil in your tummy wind tighter and tighter.

“Is she gonna cum?” Steve asks cockily, noticing the way Bucky’s hips stutter and his brow furrows. Reaching up, Steve grabs the back of his partner’s neck and pulls him in for a rough and messy kiss - mainly tongue and teeth. When they pull away, Bucky is nearly breathless, and you can hear the cockiness in his voice when Steve tells him, “Make her. Come on, baby. Fucking fill her up so I can.”

Those words - coupled with the fingers rubbing your clit, the pressure on your neck, and the cock that’s currently rearranging your guts - make you cum harder than you’ve ever. It doesn’t even really feel like an orgasm, it’s better than that. Something squirts out of your pussy with every forward thrust, and if it weren’t for being sandwiched between the two buffest men to ever exist then you’d be positive you were floating off into the clouds.

Bucky follows soon after, a loud groan of your name filling the room before his hips are flush with yours. Vaguely, you can feel his seed filling your womb, coating your insides, and it takes a full minute for Bucky’s breathing to even out. When he finally regains his composure, he leans back, holding your hips steady and chuckling at the glazed look in your eyes.

“Ready for me to pull out, kitten?” The answer he gets is a mumbled and pitiful “no”, which he laughs at, affectionately patting your hip. “Sorry, princess, we have to let Stevie have his turn.”

With that, he nods to Steve, who reaches over to the nightstand and procures a phone, handing it to Bucky. Bucky places his metal hand on the inside of your right thigh, holding it in place while he goes to the camera app on his phone.

“Okay, princess, gonna pull out now.” With his phone aimed at your hips, he slowly pulls out, hissing quietly but not stopping until his cock finally slips free. He moans softly, and when you finally manage to lift your head enough to see what he’s doing you see the phone leaning closer, capturing the no doubt obscene view of his cum dripping out of your hole. Bucky takes a few pictures and then tosses the phone back to Steve, who places it back on the nightstand.

The men shift, maneuvering your limp body until you’re laying flat on your back with Steve kneeling on the bed between your legs while Bucky stands off to the side, gripping his still-hard cock.

“Alright, beautiful,” Steve says, adjusting a pillow underneath your hips. “You ready for me?”

It takes a second to process his words, but when you do you nod your head as fast as you can, nearly giving you whiplash. You don’t care though, all you care about is the delicious stretch in your core as Steve pushes in slowly.

“Fuck, kitten,” Steve growls, stopping when his crotch is flush against yours with his pubic bone pressing against your clit. He grinds his hips against yours, the stimulation to your clit making you whine loudly.

Steve is drastically different from Bucky, he fucks you slow and sweet, though no less forceful, reaching deep in your pussy until you can barely gasp for air. When your head lolls to the side, you see Bucky stroking his cock in time with Steve’s thrusts, and, without thinking, you reach for him, beckoning him forward until he’s close enough that you can wrap your hand around it. Both men moan, and Bucky brings up his flesh hand and cups one of your breasts, kneading the flesh and rubbing over your nipple, pinching and twisting just right so it’s bordering on a delicious kind of pain.

Then, a loud smack rings through the air, Steve’s hips jerking forward almost immediately after.

“Pick it up, babe,” Bucky says with a smirk, chuckling at Steve’s agitated look, but he does so nonetheless.

Steve starts fucking you with intent, slamming into you at a borderline inhuman speed - and you don’t know how it’s possible but the orgasm building in your core seems to be more intense than the last. And after a few more thrusts, you’re plunged into the dark abyss of pleasure - mind going blank as a loud sob rips through your throat.

It’s an indeterminate amount of time later when you regain consciousness, and this time you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It takes a few moments for you to shake the fogginess out of your mind enough to notice that you’re alone in the large bed, and when you raise your head to look around the room you can’t see Bucky or Steve. But the pictures of the two of them and friends scattered throughout the space show you that this is their room.

“Bucky?” You call softly, your eyebrows furrowing when you hear no reply. Stretching your arms above your head, you force yourself out of bed - noticing that you’re now covered with a large shirt that smells a lot like Steve’s cologne. You go into the bathroom to find it empty, then wander to the large walk-in closet - again, empty.

Where are they?

“Steve?” You say a little louder, tentatively opening the bedroom door and peeking out, finding the hallway empty and quiet. There’s a spark of uneasiness that ignites in your stomach, though you try to stomp it out by reasoning with yourself - they’re busy men, after all.

When you look to your right, you see a set of double doors at the end of the long hallway, and something in you tells you to check there. As you walk down to the doors, more uneasiness pops up, it just feels a little too quiet. But the closer you get you can start to hear whispers, and they become more prominent when you stop right outside the doors. Bits and pieces of conversation flow through the wood.

“I want him gone within the hour.”

“Off the bridge.”

“They won’t find him.”

But one line hits you differently.

“Don’t let her find out.”

Your curiosity is extremely peaked, and it takes all of your willpower to bring your hand up to knock. You feel a little like you’re intruding, but you’re too confused to not impose.

The door opens a few moments later, though it’s only cracked halfway, and Steve appears in the doorframe.

“Hello, beautiful,” He says sweetly, reaching out a hand to hold your hip. “Why don’t you go back do bed, hm? I’ll be right there.”

“But, Buck-”

“Is just dealing with a few things. We had to deal with a business related issue, but he’ll join us when he’s done.” Steve is calm, and the soft look in his eyes is enough to quell any anxiety you were feeling. You’re not sure how he’s able to do it, but he’s mesmerizing, already able to manipulate you to his liking.

You’re sure it’s supposed to be frightening, but you can’t find it in you to care. Unlike John, you know with an enormous amount of certainty that they would never harm you, they’ll protect you.

What you don’t know is just how far they’ll go to protect you - to save you from deadbeat men who are too selfish to not recognize a treasure when he has one. And men that are too stupid to know when he’s being lied to. You don’t need to know that, though.

So, with a smile and a kiss, he sends you on your way, only retreating back into the room when you go in theirs.

“That was close,” Bucky says as he hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pocket.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t know.” Steve turns to his partner, both of them wearing matching smirks. “And she never will.”

taglist (+ people who seemed interested): @yamitem @buckysprettybaby @kokeshi-mynx @cevansbaby-dove @biteofcherry

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky #stucky imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #mafia!stucky #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!steve #mafia!steve rogers #let me know what y'all think!!#my writing #my stuff

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flemingology · 1 month ago

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soft alexia where she always looks for reader after a home game and runs to the stands or dedicates goals to her 🫠🥲🥺

siempre para ti ─ alexia putellas x reader

in which: alexia scores the winner in el clasico. for you.

warnings: none

wc: 1.3k

a/n: 2 posts in 2 days? who am i

Game days. Your worst favourite days. You loved going to watch your girlfriend do what she loves, really, but the nerves that came along with that weren’t as welcomed. Especially with El Clasico.

Alexia went through the motions, as she always did on game days. Had her usual breakfast, did some pre-pre-activation in your home gym and listened to the same 4 songs on repeat like she always did on matchdays. You could cite them all word for word now, but you wouldn’t dare complain and mess up her little routines.

She left you 4 hours before kick-off, a couple lingering kisses that would’ve lead to more if she didn’t have a 90-minute football game to go play, not without your promise that you’d be there and cheer for her if she scored. Alexia knew you’d be there and she knew you’d cheer the loudest of them all if she managed to get the ball in the back of the net, but who minds a little reassurance?

You made your way to the stadium well before the game started, not wanting to get caught in Barcelona’s rush hour traffic. You found your spot in the friends & family box, greeting Eli and Alba with a kiss on the cheek before settling in and glancing over at the Barça team who were already doing their warm-ups.

Alexia scanned the crowd when they were called inside, her gaze lighting up once her eyes found yours. You shot her a wave and an encouraging smile, which she reciprocated quickly – not without having to endure some teasing from Vicky.

The Spanish midfielder would never get used to seeing you in the stands. You probably hadn’t missed a home game yet in the past 4 years of dating each other, but she still felt fuzzy and warm inside when she saw the woman she loved most sitting in the stands of the football club she loved most. You were there for her, to watch her, in her shirt to cheer for her and she wanted to perform for you.

And that’s what she did. Barça took the game by the scruff of its neck, completely dominating and controlling the game from kick-off onwards. Chance after chance, shot after shot, the girls in blaugrana were all over their opponents. Aitana and Caro both had a big chance, but neither could convert. Much to your surprise and the team’s dismay, the 0-0 was still on the board when the referee blew the whistle for half-time.

They’d had the chances to be in front, but they hadn’t been clinical enough. This time, Alexia didn’t search for your eyes before she went into the tunnel, her professional demeanour never wavering a second once she was in game-mode. You hoped she wouldn’t be scolding herself too much over the promising free-kick she wasted.

The teams came back out 15 minutes later, and you finished up chatting to Alba as the game started again. More of the same, as expected, as Barça once again took control of the game. They were playing good football, passing the ball around, making runs in the channels and creating chances, but it felt like they couldn’t cross that final hurdle. Ingrid almost scored from a corner and they were claims for a penalty after a harsh tackle on Ewa, but nothing given.

It wasn’t until stoppage time that they had their best chance of the game. Some combinations at the back to play out of Madrid’s press, Patri was now rushing forward with the ball in midfield. She scanned the pitch, looking for options to lay the ball off to, sending it outside for Caro to chase. She got there first, beat her defender with a simple step over and sent a cross into the box.

It felt like slow motion, really. The final minutes ticking down on the clock, the ball sailing in the air, bodies pushing one another in the penalty area, until someone fell and they were shouts for a foul. You couldn’t make out who it was, who had fallen, but what you did make out was the whistle and the outstretched arm from the referee. Penalty.

Situations in football didn’t get much more pressure-loaded than this. A 93rd minute game-winning penalty in El Clasico. Your heart hammered against your chest, so you could only imagine how the players were feeling on the pitch. You’d been too caught up in a conversation with Eli to see Alexia had stepped up. She was stood near the ball, hands on her hips as she tried to calm her erratic breathing from having ran around the past 45 minutes.

The whistle sounded and Alexia took another couple deep breaths before beginning her run-up. A couple steps back. One to the side. Another deep breath. Short little steps to begin her run-up. A little pause. And then; the back of the net.

The stadium erupted, you cheered and jumped up and down to celebrate what would surely be the winning goal of the game. Alexia took off towards the corner flag to celebrate with the fans, her teammates soon barrelling in and tackling her down to the ground. You hugged Eli and Alba, the remnants of what had been a nerve-wracking game slowly washing away.

Alexia stood back up after a couple moments and her eyes scanned the friends and family box, looking for you. Your gazes locked and a toothy grin formed on her face, pointing her finger at the badge on her chest and then at you. She blew a kiss your way before turning back around and jogging over to her side of the pitch, leaving you with a warm feeling in your chest. No matter how many goals Alexia would dedicate to you, you’d never get tired of the fact it was your eyes she looked for after she made the ball hit the back of the net. It was you she blew a kiss, you she broke her stern captain bravado for.

It was much later when Alexia finally emerged from the changing room and into the friends and family area, surrounded by teammates and their speaker still playing loud music – clearly all very happy with the derby win. She was dressed in a pair of black trousers and a dark green shirt, clearly planning on celebrating the win. You could hear plans were made for a night out from where you were standing a little away from the group of players, as Alexia silently snuck away and walked over to you.

Your face lit up with a smile as the Barçelona captain come up to you with damp, disheveled hair, eyes tired with the exhaustion from running around for 90 minutes. “Hola, winner,” you teased, the brunette engulfing you in a tight hug. “Nice goal, hmm,” you said, lifting your shoulder a little so she would pull back. “Para ti,” Alexia whispered, her forehead resting against yours. “Siempre para ti.” Alexia accentuated her words with a soft kiss against your lips, pouring all her love for you in the short couple seconds of intimacy.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the soft moment, clutching onto the back of her shirt tightly before she’d inevitably be pulled away by her teammates to get their night out going. Alexia’s arms circled around your waist in that ever familiar way, and even though you were here in a friends and family box in a stadium an hour and a half away from where you lived, Alexia’s embrace felt like home.

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #barca femení #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

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magpiepills · 5 months ago

Text

Make Me

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Lucien shows up uninvited to your party

Warnings: SMUT, PWP, oral- f receiving, spitting, masturbation, degradation, toys, cum play, infidelity, etc., etc., so on and so forth. Unedited, unbetad, unplanned. Ignore the mistakes. Many thanks and lots of love to anyone who reads!

A word from the author:

Just cause @youandmeand5bucks told me to do it based on this post- https://www.tumblr.com/thedarkoneinthenight/708428300619513857/cum-on-her-favorite-dildo-and-make-her-fuck

My masterlist

Stupid heels. You never wear this pair. They’re tall, strappy, absolutely gorgeous and they hurt like hell. “bedroom heels” is what your husband calls them. But they looked so good with your dress, they matched the shade of red perfectly, and you wanted to look good at this party. It was the first one in your new house, the biggest you’ve ever thrown, your husband's new colleagues, some of the new neighbors, old friends from college. You really needed it to go off without a hitch.

You made it a solid 90 minutes in the heels. Rather than hobble around in pain, you left the party and slipped up the stairs to your bedroom to change. Flats would work just fine. You’re feeling a floaty tequila buzz anyway.

You could hear the din of music and laughter and voices and glasses clinking from upstairs. It was a good party. In your rush to get back to the crowd, you didn’t notice the dim light seeping under the door.

Pushing it open, you gasped. You didn’t recognize the tall figure standing by your bed, silhouetted in lamplight. He turned at the sound, and you stared into his eyes, unable to speak.

It’s been two years, since you saw him, now your ex, Lucien, is standing in your bedroom, uninvited.

“Lucien? Why are you here? Why are you in my bedroom?” Your voice raised with each confused question.

He looked at you, eyes licking you head to toe.

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d say hello to an old friend.” His eyes shone even in the low light.

“You can’t be here, Lucien. My husband’s downstairs. You shouldn’t be in here. Please.”

Lucien nodded, he scoffed and dropped his head. It was that moment when you saw what he held in his hand. The familiar purple silicone, the smooth shape of your vibrator.

He was smirking when your eyes snapped up to his.

“You still keep it in the same place. Right where you can reach it. Are you using it a lot?”

You stammered, your face hot at the sight of him holding your toy. You hated him. His face, his audacity, his entitlement, the gin on his breath and the tingle in your belly you felt at the presumptuousness of his questions. He still held your vibrator.

“Put that down. Really, Lucien. You can’t do this. You can’t show up here.” You begged him.

“Why?” He took a step closer to you. “You don’t like it?”

You shook your head, well aware of the peril you were in. Lucien was an addiction. You kicked him. You beat him. You moved on with your life until he showed up to give you another slow drag of him.

“I think you like it a lot. I think you’re already wet. Let me see if I’m right.” Another step closer, and you closed your eyes.

“Please.” It was no use to plead. He came closer, until he could run his fingertip from your bottom lip down your chest, between your breasts, down your belly, slowly, slowly pressing in when he got to your pussy, pushing the fabric in to trace his finger between your thighs. He continued down to the hem of your dress, then back up, underneath the fabric this time, up, up your thighs, slowing to a maddening drag until he reached the apex of your thighs again.

There, he cupped your cunt, finding it bare under your dress. A choice you either regretted or were glad of, you weren't certain.

“Like a waterfall.” He grinned.

His kiss was greedy, entitled, and deep. His tongue slid against yours and his rough hand found your clit, circling it, stroking it firmly until you were rocking your hips. He humiliated you with your neediness, how easily you fell. How easily you spread out on the bed while he locked the door.

Lucien ate you messily. He buried his face in your cunt and slurped at you. His lips and tongue against your slick folds felt electric, and when he took them away you whined and reached for him. He was out of your reach and unbuttoning his pants, still holding your pink toy.

“Scoot up.” He motioned you further up the bed and followed you, kneeling between your spread eagle legs. He took his cock in his hand, and with the other he clicked your vibrator on. He slipped it against your glistening pussy before zeroing back in on your throbbing clit.

“Luc,” you cried “don’t tease.”

“I’m not going to fuck you. You’re married. Your husband’s downstairs. What kind of whore let’s her ex fuck her in her husband’s bed?”

He held the buzzing toy to your clit and stroked himself.

“Come here. Spit on it.” He pulled you up to him and you let your saliva drip onto his cock. It was so pretty. His foreskin, the veins, the blushing thick head, shiny with your spit. He stopped you with a fist in your hair before you could get your lips around his cock.

“No cocksucking either. Even though I know how much you love it. Lay down and squeeze your tits for me.”

When you were under his spell like this there was no argument. You laid back and licked the pads of your fingers before swirling them around your hardened nipples.

Your ex boyfriend loomed over you, playing with your pussy, stroking his cock, relishing in your obedience. He didn’t speak to you except to grunt “yeah, like that,” or “fuck, baby,” and finally a moan as he came, directing his seed to spill over the shaft of your vibrator, a few drops landing on your puffy, unsatisfied cunt.

As he caught his breath, Lucien admired his work. He turned the vibrator, letting cum drip down the length of it and around both sides, holding it up to show you, teasing the tip against your hungry lips but giving you barely a taste.

“Want to come?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Want you to make me come Lucien.” It came out whiny and impudent.

He hummed, rubbing his hand over your stomach and hips with his fingers spread wide. He took his time, in no hurry to give you your release. Happy to let you squirm a few moments before filling your cunt with the cum-coated toy in one sudden motion. He twisted it as he pulled it out and pushed it in, fucking his cum into you. He spread your lips with his thumb and index finger to watch how you took the fake dick.

“You going to come with all my cum inside you? Does it feel good?”

You moaned and rocked your hips, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. If it were bigger maybe you could be convinced. You remembered his weight in top of you, holding you down while he took what he wanted, fucking you hard and deep, leaving you sore.

With his thumb mercifully on your clit, you drew closer to release. He urged you on, telling you how bad you’re being, what a slut for him, always a slut. Nobody would ever keep your cunt from him, he promised you.

In the throes of your climax, body right and hot, he purrs. “What if you get pregnant?” He taunted, "Are you going to tell your husband it’s his?” It was an empty threat, you knew he got a vasectomy years ago.

He loved to torment you like this, to remind you you were his, that he had a proprietary claim on your body and mind. That no matter where you went he could find you and fuck you, that you’d always let him because he was the only one who could make you feel like this.

Lucien didn’t linger. He zipped up, kissed you once more, and slipped away quietly, leaving you alone with the discarded vibrator and his taste on your lips.

#bat writes #lucien flores #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #smut #pedro pascal #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #Lucien Flores x f reader #Lucien Flores the uninvited #the uninvited #Lucien Flores fic #Lucien Flores smut

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friendlyneighborhoodamara · 2 months ago

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Can't sleep so I'm gonna talk about Akane Tendo's reputation among fans. It's no secret I'm an Akane fan, and I'm glad that the fandom seems to be kinder to her today than in the past. In light of this, I'd like to address some of the common arguments people make or used to make against her.

For reference, a significant chunk of the humor in Ranma 1/2 involves Ranma, often intentionally, pissing Akane off, to the point that she hits him really, really hard. This is a pretty common comedic trope in shonen anime prior to like...I wanna say the 2010s? (I never watched Naruto since it looked bad but I am pretty sure that's Sakura and Naruto's dynamic.) Anyways, while I joined the fandom recently, I have learned that when the show came over to America in the early 90s, Akane was SUPER controversial for treating Ranma like this, with her critics calling her a violent domestic abuser and misandrist, and her reputation has only really recovered recently.

Now, if the "girl character beats up boy character in fit of rage" trope is something that isn't your taste in comedy, then it's not your taste in comedy. However, it's important to keep in mind qualifiers for Akane's behavior. Akane at the start of the series has been harassed by boys at her school who want to beat her up and force her to date them, leading to her having a justifiably poor perception of men and boys. Her hating boys and seeing the worst in them is very different from a man hating women due to patriarchal expectations, and even then she treats boys who are nice to her like Ryoga well.

Honestly, the only area where her dislike of boys gets kinda like morally problematic in my view is if you interpret Ranma as a trans girl: while I joked in an earlier post that Akane is a TERF, one could argue that, albeit unintentionally, Akane's negative reaction to seeing Ranma naked in her bathtub (even if accidentally) and then calling him/her a pervert plays on transphobic rhetoric against letting trans women use the women's restrooms like we're supposed to. (Humorously, most of the people mad at Akane seem to be, ah...not exactly fond of trans!Ranma headcanons, but I digress.) If other trans girls or our allies don't find the slapstick funny for that reason, fair enough, but I don't feel bothered by it given how most of the time Ranma gets hit it's for being legitimately rude and again the violence is very unrealistic.

Admittedly, if Ranma 1/2 had a more serious tone and grounded level of violence, Akane hitting Ranma would be abusive. But in the series, martial artists can walk off stuff like being crushed by a boulder, so Akane beating Ranma up by kicking him/her 50 feet into the sky because she thought he/she was trying to feel her up is not so much like domestic abuse and more akin to a wife giving her husband a light dope slap. Remember, much of the violence in this series is basically just that of a Tom and Jerry cartoon, albeit with an early Dragon Ball aesthetic. Furthermore, Ranma - as much as I love him/her as a character - is usually the instigator, with the wiki even having a list of the cruel nicknames he/she gives her, so it's not as if her actions are unwarranted:

There is, per some people, a gendered component to this discussion, that if the genders were flipped, this wouldn't be funny since Ranma doesn't hit Akane. Now, firstly, if you're a man and a 35-year-old anime not having a boy beat up a girl enough is your worst experience with "sexism", well...get over it. Secondly, in terms of wider media, men commit violence against women that is framed for laughs all the time (ex.: Miroku in Inuyasha, another Rumiko Takahashi series, is a male character where his running gag involves him groping women, which is a more realistic form of violence than anything Akane dishes out), so the notion that it's only women who hurt men in media for laughs is untrue. Thirdly, the notion that hitting Ranma is viewed as okay because "he's a boy" is dubious since he does canonically turn into a girl and Akane hits Ranma regardless of gende, and despite his claims to the contrary he/she doesn't really hate being a girl as much as he/she claims. As a concession, I will note that especially in the past some writers can be reluctant to show slapstick against women, but this is more due to internalized misogyny and viewing women as weak and needing protection. Personally, even assuming that Akane was a boy and Ranma was wholly a girl, I'd have no problem with the slapstick since it's clearly goofy and unrealistic.

Anyways, I'd like to conclude by saying (1) I am glad that I joined the fandom at a time when Akane is being perceived more and more fairly as a flawed but generally pretty nice and hilarious character who has a good deal of pathos despite the clearly slapstick-y nature of the series, and (2) thanks for reading this long, very sincere post.

#ranma 1/2 #akane tendo #ranma saotome #rankane #long post

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guywrestlingaddiction · 3 months ago

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That Wresting Moment: Passing the Torch - Dick the Prick v TNT (bgeast.com)

One of the things I value in a gay pro wrestling story is the character building. With a name like Dick the Prick, it was clear this guy was going to be a cocky heel but just how cocky? Enter TNT passing the despicable, cocky, heel torch ...

Dick the Prick v TNT (bgeast.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

Enter TNT laying on the mat making sarcastic comments and dripping with contempt for other wrestlers. His cocky, disrespectful nature just begs for a goody good to clean up his act but instead we enter another contempt-ful wrestler, a real prick...

TNT looking like every wise-ass villain from the 90's. A guy you just wanted to punch in the face.

Dick is looking like another wise-ass punk. It's punk versus punk in this match and really establishes who both men are.

The Action

Make no mistake, our men are here to wrestle! There are times when I forget how special some bgeast matches are from this era and matches like this bring it all back for me.

That look of contempt is priceless

But most of all with this match you have the story ... one of strength, humiliation, and above all a clash of emotions. TNT treats this match like a plaything compared to Dick's stoic seriousness - the man wants this and TNT only wants to rough up the new guy.

And that self assured, too confident for his own good attitude while he destroys Dick's abs

I mean that cocky stare straight into the camera. Am I right?

The Moment

And then we have our moment; We've seen Dick suffer, we've seen him cry out for mercy, and finally we get to see him be the punk heel we knew he could be in all his glory. I was conflicted with this match not knowing who to root for - both wrestlers seemed to need a good ass kicking at times. But that was the point here wasn't it? Let the bigger 'punk' win and in this case that was Dick, outmaneuvering TNT in sleaze and disrespect.

Making your trapped opponent cry out and then slap him in the face is a dick move.

Good sportsmanship is out the window when it comes to cocky gay wrestling.

This match will leave you longing for another wrestler to come in and kick both of them to the curb but that won't happen. You see sometimes in gay wrestling, as in pro wrestling, the bad guys win and in the process pass the torch on to the next generation of scum ball heels you know deep down you secretly long for.

Dick: About time somebody finished you off... Your days of menacing are over. [... and Dick's reign has just begun!]

#gay wrestling #bgeast.com #Dick the Prick #TNT

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nanaminsmoon · 2 years ago

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𝙚𝙭-𝙗𝙛!𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞

A/N: so this is the first time writing something to post so it might not be the best and i’m sorry that it’s mad long lol.

warnings: oral (male receiving + female receiving), toji nuts on readers’ face and licks it off(he nasty asf for that), toji calls reader ‘princess’ and ‘baby, phone sex kinda (you’ll see what i mean), unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), toji is a dick but he loves you really.

wc: 4583:)) + lazily proofread.

ex-bf!Toji who weasels his way back into your life with a ‘Happy birthday!’ text. When he sent it, you hadn't spoken in a little over 6 months, but he had been planning this since that day. That being the time when he showed up at your apartment a few months after you broke up and fucked you senseless. You swore to yourself it would never happen again, but you knew there was a chance that wouldn't be true. You two had broken up because you had said that you wanted space. And ex-bf!Toji agreed to give it to you. But the problem with this man is that he will just come back whenever he thinks you've had enough space. You usually try to ignore him, but the man is very persistent.

ex-bf!Toji who shows up at your apartment the night of your birthday, knocking on it until it opens. You weren’t expecting anybody because you had spent the entire day celebrating with family and friends, and you were hoping to get some time alone at the end of the night. So you dragged your sock-covered feet across the living room to the door, and when you looked through the peephole, your heart almost stopped. You knew what ex-bf!Toji was like, but you hoped he would at least let you have some peace on your birthday of all days. The voice in the back of your mind told you that you really should’ve known better because ex-bf!Toji could be described with many words; irritating, conniving, sexy, cocky. But ‘peaceful’ was not one of them.

“Evenin’, birthday girl”, he smirked, arm leant on the doorframe, as he scanned your frame. He loved you in comfortable clothes; some baggy joggers, a baggy t-shirt, some fluffy socks, and your baby pink bonnet on your head. It ignited something inside him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on—he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to cuddle you, or strip them off your body so he could see the bulge his dick made in your stomach properly.

“Fuck off, Toji”, you said, aiming to close the door but just as it was closing, his hand landed flat on it, opening it back up again.

“Hey, don't be like that.”, ex-bf!Toji feigned a wounded pout, “I missed you, and just wanted to make sure you had a good day. That’s all.”, he took a step forward, and you started to close the door again.

“I know you, Toji, so I know that it’s never that easy with you. I don’t wanna talk to you, and I most certainly don’t wanna fuck you.”, his head tilted at your words, as a smirk began spreading on his face, “Plus, I’m seeing someone now, and he wouldn’t like me speaking to you, so bye”, you hmphed before going to close the door but, like the other two attempts, ex-bf!Toji didn’t let that happen. But, this time, he pushed you further inside, and walked in, kicking the door closed behind him.

“He here?”, he spoke, and his voice was at the lowest it had been in all of the 90 seconds you had been speaking. ex-bf!Toji was looking around your apartment, eyes sweeping the area intently; he wasn’t scared, he just wanted to find the fucker who’d been ‘seeing’ his girl, so he could gauge his eyes out and make sure he wouldn’t be seeing anything ever again.

“No.”, you answered timidly, backing up further into your apartment. You weren’t afraid, you just knew that the only way to keep control over your limbs was to keep them away from his touch—meaning you needed to distance yourself from him.

“Then why should I give a fuck?”, he took another step forward. Once you brought up being involved with someone else, the sly twinkle in ex-bf!Toji‘s eyes had retired, his eyes darkening by two shades. Yet, at the sight of your frail movements, the simulated sympathy from earlier had found its way back onto ex-bf!Toji‘s profile.

“Don’t look so scared of me, beautiful. You know I could never hurt you, baby.”, he walked towards you and, once he saw that you were no longer retreating, his hand lifted to lightly caress your cheek. And you let him. Because this was just how ex-bf!Toji was; he would lure you into a false sense of security, hatching you in the palm of his hand, before closing his fingers around you, crushing you into dust, and sprinkling you onto the floor underneath him. That’s how your relationship had gone; the beginning being full of amazing sex, laughs, and just feeling like you were with a man who would do anything for you. It was great…until it wasn’t. You see, ex-bf!Toji doesn’t have many friends, says they’re a waste of time and that ‘the only person you can really trust is yourself’. But that posed a problem when he would constantly want to hang out with you; he wasn’t clingy, he just had no one else so he was constantly calling, texting, coming over to your place, and expecting you to drop whatever it was that you were doing just to do whatever he wanted to do. Which was usually just fucking. Okay, he was clingy, but he refused to admit it; whether he didn’t realise, or he was just in denial, you didn’t know. But it all got to be too much and you had to leave.

ex-bf!Toji‘s whose hands grew hot at the slightest graze of his fingers on your cheek. Then the glint that had resigned earlier, restored in full force. He knew you couldn’t resist him; at first he wasn’t sure, then you let him into your house with no further protests, and he knew you were his again. You didn’t know it yet, but you were. You always had been, nothing had changed, and now he was going to claim back what was his.

“Take your shoes off”, you spoke quietly, eyes still on his. You didn’t want him here, but you weren’t about to let this man stand on your new rug with his damn shoes on.

“And you said you didn’t want me here”, he chuckled.

“I don’t, but I like this rug. So you either take them off and say what you wanna say, or we have this conversation outside.”, you spat out, and his eyebrow rose as a surprised smile crawled onto his face. One thing you and ex-bf!Toji had in common was your attitude—in other words, you were both stubborn, and very vocal about it. So he was used to it. But you had never been one to give it to him first, you were only ever ‘bratty’ (as he liked to call it), when he provoked you. He had literally invited himself into your home but, in his mind, he hadn’t done to poke at you yet. At least, not enough to make you like this.

“What the fuck does this guy do to you? You never used to speak to me like this”, he chuckled as he reached down to take off his shoes, then he turned around to put them by the door, “I don’t know if I’m turned on, or pissed off”, he said on his walk back to you.

“Nothing”, you crossed your arms.

“Yeah, that’s problem”, his hands rose again, but this time they were further south, as he gripped your jaw with his right hand, “You need some dick, that’s why you’re acting up”. Due to his cocky persona, you had never confessed to ex-bf!Toji that he understood your needs like the back of his hand. You didn’t even want to admit it to yourself, at first, instead you just tried to convince yourself that maybe you’re just very predictable. Because there’s no other reason that explains him being able to know how you’re feeling, and why you’re feeling it.

ex-bf!Toji who pulls your face closer to his, as he leans down to you. Heavy breaths left both of your mouths, the tense silence sucking all of the air out of your living room. Fucking him would mean one of two things: 1) you guys get back together, which you didn’t know if you really wanted again, despite how much you missed him and his dick. Or, 2) you fuck and then never see each other again. ‘Never’ being however many months it takes for him to come back to you again. You weren’t going back to him, you never did. It felt better letting him in when he came to you, then going to him—you felt stronger because you were maintaining the space that you had wanted so bad. But then the needy part of you would always let him back in whenever you needed to be touched by someone who knew what made you feel good.

You didn’t know how it happened but, one second, you were stood in your living room then, next thing you knew, ex-bf!Toji‘s lips were pressed onto yours. His arms wrapping around you to pull you into him by your ass, before his tongue would lightly brush your lower lip, before it was inside of your mouth. Your tongues would move against each other for a few more seconds before ex-bf!Toji would pull back, your bottom lip sandwiched between his teeth as if it were a souvenir commemorating his departure from the inside of your mouth. His hands, however, remained clawing at your ass through your baggy joggers, and he just kept pulling you into himself. After a few seconds, you realised he was doing that so you could feel how hard he was under those jeans of his.

“I told you I’m not fucking you, Toji”, you shook your head lightly at him, and one of his hands rose so he could use his index finger to lift your head up.

“We both know that’s not true”, he smirked at you before he moved down to plant open mouthed kisses on your neck, biting you right on the side of it, “If he asks you who did this, tell him it was a birthday present from a friend”, he hummed against your skin.

And he was right, it wasn’t true. Because not too long after, ex-bf!Toji had you laying on your back on top of your bed, your legs hanging over the foot of it, as he knelt on the floor. One hand on your lower stomach, and another hand wrapped around your thigh so you wouldn’t move, ex-bf!Toji was eating you out like your pussy was his sole life source. He had started with languid licks between your folds, occasionally sucking and blowing on your throbbing clit but he grew impatient and just starting tongue fucking your hole. You had already cum twice, and your legs were covered in dark purple splotches, but ex-bf!Toji wouldn’t stop. He had to take his jeans off because they were starting to hurt him. With how hard he was, he thought his zip would fly off. But, as amazing as it all felt, you wanted him inside of you before you ripped a chunk of his hair out because of how hard you were grabbing it.

“Toji, f-fuck me, p-please”, you mewled out, and his head rose up for a moment so he could look at you. Your eyelashes were dry—usually, by this time, your cheeks would hold shadows of dried tears, but your face was completely barren. And he hated it.

“C’mere”, he stood up, yanking your legs towards him when he felt you were moving to slow. Then, he helped you stabilise yourself on your shaky legs, before he pushed you to the floor so you were on your knees.

“Suck it”, he ordered, and you quickly pulled his boxers down, weirdly surprised by how big he was. You had seen ex-bf!Toji‘s dick too many times for genitalia that didn’t belong to you, but you had forgotten just how big he was. And now you were faced with his dribbling tip, everything just became a bit too daunting. And ex-bf!Toji could feel it emanating off you, and he reached down to your cheek, stroking it again,

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen it before.”, he scoffed, “Don’t just gawk at it, put it in your mouth. You can take it, we both know you can”, you looked up at him, and nodded at his commands before taking him into your hand and as you were about to wrap your lips around his throbbing tip, he tsked down at you.

“None of that teasing shit. Take the whole thing in your throat”, you scoffed at him, but his face remained straight. He was dead serious.

So you took him into your mouth and, as you were slowly putting more of him into your mouth, he pushed your head down so he hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around him. Earning a dark moan from the figure above you, but he pulled you back slowly, the sensation of his length pulling out of your throat causing two fingers to drift to your clit to rub on it.

“Don’t touch it”, he breathed out, “That’s my job”, he threw his head back, and moaned up into the air.

ex-bf!Toji who fucked your throat for a few minutes, before his thighs and lower abdomen started to twitch and he felt himself getting close. So he pulled himself out of your throat. One hand grabbed the back of your hair to hold you in place, and his other hand pumped his dick before he spoke quietly,

“Close your eyes”, he warned, and you just about had enough time to heed his warning before his cum was spurting all over your face.

“Better”, he smiled, happy that your face was no longer pristine. And, before you could even gather your thoughts to understand what he meant, he was picking you up, and throwing you on your bed.

ex-bf!Toji who licks the nut on your chin, before his tongue leads him to your mouth that he kisses sloppily before pulling back from you. A smirk on his face as he takes a moment to admire how unfaltering your beauty is. You hadn’t changed since the last time you two were in this position and he hoped that it stayed that way.

ex-bf!Toji who finally gets the time to analyse your shirt, and realises he’s never seen it before.

“This his?”, he grabs a handful of the ash grey band tee. You didn’t know how you forgot that the shirt you were wearing belonged to the guy you wee seeing, but ex-bf!Toji noticed it first. You nodded up at him, and his jaw clenched. He had originally planned to pull it off you, but now he knew who it belonged to, he just ripped it in half, revealing your bare nipples. He threw the shirt somewhere in your room, before his lips latched around your nipple, nibbling at it gently, causing you to wince.

ex-bf!Toji who occupies your focus by placing wet, lingering kisses on your torso as a means to distract you while he angled himself at your entrance. That pretty much did nothing because your body reacted before you could even comprehend what was going on. Goosebumps cascaded over you as his tip brushed against your folds. And the satisfaction he got from seeing how something as miniscule as that got such a big reaction from you, meant that he would do it again. One hand on your knee to keep your legs open, and the other placed on his dick to rub the tip against your folds over and over again.

“Toji, please just fuck me!”, you whined desperately, your voice louder than you’d want it to be, and he simply laughed at you. It amused him how your demeanour had changed so quickly.

“‘Fuck me, Toji, fuck me’”, he mocked your voice, “I’ll do what I want, sweetheart. Look at you, begging for me after you were saying you didn’t want to fuck me”, he pouted again, before he slammed himself into you, causing you to cry out.

ex-bf!Toji who fucks you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do; one of your legs sat atop his shoulder as he slams into you, over and over again. The sum of his lips leaving wet kisses wherever they can, his tip so deep inside you that it's damn near touching your lungs, and the obscenities he was licking onto your flaming hot skin, was making you go crazy.

ex-bf!Toji whose mind is fixated on fucking you so good that you won't want anyone ever again. He doesn't want to keep doing this stupid back and forth of you two walking away from each other, only to crawl right back into each others arms again. To say he was jealous was an understatement; he was seething. And, in his mind, it was already decided that you would never be seeing that guy again. Whoever the fuck he was.

“What about your boyfriend, huh? He fuck you like this?”, he chuckled, and you shook your head, still whining, “I could tell. You’re still so fucking tight, it’s like you haven’t been fucked in years”, he chuckled, breathing heavily in your ear.

“H-harder, Toji, p-please”, your words were laboured as, with the way he was pounding into you, you couldn’t garner enough air to voice an entire sentence.

“What about all that shit you were talking earlier, huh?”, he teased, “Telling me you’ve changed, but you still take my dick as good as always. Still so desperate, so needy”, his words were punctuated by harsh thrusts. It wasn’t unusual for him to relieve his anger through fucking you with reckless abandon, even if his stomach spun with guilt afterwards. But this time, ex-bf!Toji was mad at a plethora of things, and the most painful, was losing you.

Even though he never said it, you changed ex-bf!Toji’s life. Before you, he never really thought that making emotional connections with people wasn’t worth it because they were unreliable. But you were so good to him, even when he wasn’t the best to you. He lived in the same apartment building as your best friend, and you had met when you held the elevator open for him. He had never thanked you, he just smirked at you and went about his day. Then, when you next saw him, you expected him to do the same. But he didn’t, and you had teased him about it. He shrugged you off, but then he went home and nutted twice just at the thought of you. He asked you on a date, the night after he did that, and he fell in love with you a few months after.

ex-bf!Toji whose senses are overridden by everything you. Your scent, the noises you make when he hits those spots, and the satisfying sting provided by your french tip nails digging into his back. But, alas, nothing lasts forever, and his bliss was cut short by the shrill cries resonating from your phone. When he looked at the screen, he saw a male name he had never heard you mention. That must be him, he thought to himself. His hips didn’t stop, now thrusting even harder somehow, making it harder for you to push the device further on your bedside table.

“Answer it.”, he growled onto your neck. You knew why he wanted you to answer the phone, and you didn’t want to deal with the drama; you wanted to break things off with this guy in a more amicable way that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Or, worse, stroke ex-bf!Toji‘s ego even more.

“N-no, Toji, that’s n-not— fuckfuckfuck. Toji, I’m gonna c-cum—”, your eyes were rolling so far back you could’ve sworn you saw your brain.

“You’re not cumming until you answer that fucking phone”, ex-bf!Toji stopped his movements, causing you to whine in frustration before you leaned up and shakily grabbed your phone.

“Hello?”, you breathed out, “Yeah? Um…not right now, I’m just busy. Nah, nah, I’m good, just…there was a spider and I was running around looking for it. Yeah, I would’ve called you but…I didn’t want to bother you. I, uh…I want to see you too. But, I’m just real busy right now. But…if we can, then maybe”, your eyes were trained on the man on top of you, and he was training his hands to not pick that phone up and throw it at the wall. But, instead, he put both of his hands on your knees and held them apart and pounded himself into you. Over and over and over again; his only concern being making you moan as loud as you possibly could. Naturally, your phone fell out of your hand and landed softly on the pillow, so ex-bf!Toji picked it up.

“Delete her number.”, was all he said before he placed the phone back onto the pillow. You hoped thought that he hung up, but he hadn’t.

ex-bf!Toji who fucked you harder than he ever had, just because he wanted your boyfriend to cry blood. You hadn’t realised that he hadn’t hung up yet, so when he told you to be louder, you were louder. And when he told you to moan his name like it’s the word that would grant your salvation, you complied as quick as your mind would allow you.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me again”, his thrusts grew harsher; the thought of you being ripped from him again made him beyond frustrated. And that frustration was revealing itself in how hard he was fucking you.

“I c-can’t.”, you stuttered out. How was he asking you to say shit to him when you couldn’t even remember your own name with how good he was fucking you??

“You can, and you will. Now tell me that you’re mine now. That you won’t walk away from me again.”, he growled out and, this time, his hand reached to your throat. With his thumb on one side of your neck, and his index and middle finger on the other, ex-bf!Toji squeezed gently. And that, combined with the way his tip was hitting that spot over and over again, was enough to make you dizzy. But you still obeyed.

“I..w-won’t-t. I p-promise, T-Toji, I won’t!”, you shouted out, and that was the moment your, now, ex-boyfriend hung up. And the smirk imminent on ex-bf!Toji‘s face was very telling; he was smug as fuck. Not only had he gotten rid of the fucker trying to steal the love of his life, but he got his girl back. Whether you meant what you said, or you were too fucked to know, he didn’t know nor care. He would take the angelic noises you were making as gospel.

“Damn fucking right you won’t.”, he muttered, fucking you even harder. Because his plan was just to fuck you so hard your legs gave out, and you literally would never walk away from him.

ex-bf!Toji who made you cum five times before he felt his thighs twitch for the second time that night, and he was beginning to think he was going to draw blood with how hard he was biting his bottom lip.

“Who this pussy belong to, baby?”, he grunted, before biting your earlobe. He sucked it into his mouth, and you were so overstimulated you thought you were going to faint.

“Y-you, Toji, it’s-s yours-s. F-fuckkkkfuckfuckfuckfuck”, you could feel your sixth orgasm, and you were about to lose it all. Any other day, you would talk back and give this man shit, but at this point you just needed him to nut so this could be over with. ex-bf!Toji‘s stamina was insane so he could go round after round after round, but if he was overstimulated you could at least get him to slow down for his own wellbeing.

“Imma cum in this pussy, baby, I can’t hold this shit in no more. You want it?”, the aggression in his thrusts had dropped significantly and their rhythm was far more sporadic. He knew he wasn’t pulling out; you felt so good and the wetness from the amount of times you had cum was just too good to part from.

“You still on birth control?”, he asked, his breathy heavy and laboured, and you nodded lazily. You didn’t know where you were, who you were, or what was going on at this point, and you just needed a break. The dick was too good; you wanted to be in that bed all night, but you needed some time to get yourself together or you’d go insane.

“F-fuck, baby, I c-can’t”, were the last words ex-bf!Toji uttered before his hips stilled inside you, and his head fell. The strands of raven hair that sweat hadn’t glued to his forehead were reaching out to kiss the delicate brown skin on your face.

ex-bf!Toji whose nut seems like it’s never-ending. His head is just dropped down, your foreheads attached, as he just moans lowly, his breath hitting your lips. After a few more seconds, his hips start moving again, as whines start leaving his mouth. You had never heard ex-bf!Toji whine because each time it happened, he stifled it or made sure you moaned loud enough to drown him out. But your ears, and pussy, were twitching at the high pitched noises falling from his mouth. It was just pure desperation; he needed you more than he had ever needed anything, and having you back in his arms felt like heaven to him.

“I missed you so much, princess”, his voice was starting to crack, and his fingers were about to rip through the pillow next to your head, as he came for a third time.

ex-bf!Toji who pulls your cheek onto his bare chest once you guys are done, and traces circles onto your bare arm. All the while, his lips are moving slowly, promising you the world and everything in it. As long as you stay with him forever.

#nanaminsmooninc #black tumblr #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x black y/n #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

Note

HI FIRST OF ALL LOVE YOUR WRITING second of all ! kind of specific but may I request an astarion x reader/tav where like. 90% of their time with the companions reader/tav hasn’t been able to see all that well- like. they can see colors and sort-of shapes but most details are completely incomprehensible, and through some method or another (probably someone’s attempt at “removing the tadpole” or smthn but up to you!) they’re finally able to see clearly and they’re just. completely amazed because EVERYTHING (astarion) is so beautiful actually??

Like Nothing I’ve Seen (Astarion x GN! reader)

CW- Mentions of gore and violence (due to Volo being a socially incompetent goofball) , self-esteem issues because I’m an insecure queen myself and like to deal with my feelings through my OCs

I tried to write a body neutral reader as well so everyone can imagine themselves in this story! I hope I was able to pull that off.

Title inspired by the song “Beautiful Things” by Grayscale

Hello! I am so sorry this took so long. Work has been kicking my whole ass lately!!!

This has not be thoroughly proof read so I may make changes as I find them, but I was too excited to post it! I hope you enjoy!

Being a monk is hypothetically supposed to help your pain tolerance- ya know, zen and shit.

Except, you quickly learn that a crossbow bolt to the eyeball is enough to break your zen.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s fighting quickly subsides as you stare at the two blobs out of your (now) one only good eye- good being a stretch. Admittedly, of all the people this could have happened to, it’s probably a good thing it was you since your eyes don’t really work anyway.

The purple, silver, and black blob (who you have come to know as ‘Shadowheart’) comes running towards you, her movements frantic as she begins to try to bandage your eye. You wince as she starts to remove the crossbow bolt.

“I am so sorry,” Shadowheart says, the distress evident in her voice, “if only that gith would stop being such a problem.”

Shadowheart practically screamed the last bit, but at least you are in too much pain for the shrill sound of her voice to bother you. You never wanted to find out if eyeballs could throb- you missed the hours before breakfast when you were blissfully ignorant to the true capabilities of your eyeballs.

The hostile green ball, Lae’zel, comes charging over with an insult sitting on the tip of her tongue before another blob knocks her aside.

“Walk it off Lae’zel,” you hear Karlach say with heavy amounts of exasperation.

Lae’zel grumbles as she storms off; Shadowheart continues to slowly work on you as you wince, whimper, and feel the tears start to fall.

“What did you do?!”

The rage in his voice rattles your bones- if tones could kill, Shadowheart would have keeled over. The radiant blob of your lover is in Shadowheart’s face (at least you hope it’s her face).

“Fangs, put them away!”

“Oh? Were you this anal when they were SHOOTING CROSSBOWS KARLACH?!”

You are beginning to feel dizzy and the yelling isn’t helping. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion are arguing relentlessly- Karlach attempting to mediate. At some point Gale and Wyll join the mix- you think they are trying to hold back Astarion, but you aren’t sure.

In all the chaos, you are unaware of Volo coming up behind you- a solution brewing in his brains.

“Don’t worry my friend,” He explains with gusto, “I can fix this!”

Before anyone can protest, Volo rips the bolt out- your eyeball coming out with it before Volo plops a spherical object in your lap.

“Tada!”

The blood curdling scream that rips through your throat as you clutch at your eye socket surprises even you. In the midst of the white, hot pain- you hear Volo running off , also screaming, away from what you think is Astarion.

You feel Shadowheart grab the spherical object from your lap as Karlach holds you down on the ground.

“Sorry Soldier, but this is probably going to hurt.”

Oh and it hurts.

Shadowheart is wiggling the eye roughly into your eye socket, apologizing the entire time. You feel your socket form around the new eye. The pain from the removal and the new addition begins to subside into a dull ache as the new eyeball makes itself at home in your head- healing energy radiating from it and Shadowheart’s palm.

You feel like you are going to throw up, pass out, or go into a fit of hysteria by the time you start trying to blink your eyes open. You stare down at the grass below you and watch as a red bug with black spots walks along one of the blades before taking flight.

You freeze- the world is definitely not blobbish anymore. You run your fingers through the soft, green grass.

Has it always looked this way?

“How is the new eye?” Shadowheart says nervously.

You look over at her and try to stifle your shock.

Shadowheart is stunning and Karlach is just as awe inspiring as Shadowheart.

“Are you okay, Soldier?”

Sometimes you forget that your companions don’t know about your vision issues. You are able to hide your vision deficit well due to your years of training as a monk teaching you how to rely heavily on your other senses and the energy in the air.

You have come to adore all of your companions for their personalities, their laughs- Astarion especially. However, now you understand why perfect strangers come up to your companions with enamored voices.

“You catch him, Fangs?” Karlach says in a teasing town.

You hear Astarion scowl, “the bastard ran off and disappeared before I could even get near him.”

Astarion appears out from the corner of your eye and kneels in front of you. You try so hard to keep the surprise and adoration from showing on your face. His eyes bore into yours with an emotion that is not recognizable. A tick of frustration flares in your mind- now you have to learn an entirely new set of rules for social interaction.

Except, you’ll deal with that later. For now, you have a literal God kneeling in front of you, his hand cupping your cheek and surveying your new eye.

Gods he’s incredible.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper involuntarily.

As the blush spreads along your cheeks, Astarion breaks out in a bright, beautiful smile.

“Well that settles it, your vision is working just fine!”

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips- your face feels like it’s on fire.

It has been a little over a week since the tiefling party. He had been distant with you initially after your midnight tryst and you had felt quite broken over it. Well- until you had been spending time with Gale at the campfire talking about the Monastery you grew up in and his experiences with the weave. Astarion had barged into the conversation, sat down next to you, and had practically pulled you into his lap next to the campfire. After that night, you’ve become inseparable- sleeping in each other’s tents, more midnight trysts, cuddling, spending the whole night talking or playing games. You spend alone time with your other companions- he would never control you or dictate who you spend time with. He would spy on you and Gale, but he would never prevent you from talking to him.

“No my dear, I trust you. I just don’t trust the boot muncher.”

“You really need to stop saying that,” your serious demeanor cracking, “he doesn’t actually eat the boots.”

He snickered, “oh ya? Then why have we never seen them after he absorbs them? And yet everyone judges my feeding habits!”

Astarion helps you up off the ground and you are dizzy from all the new stimuli around you. His hands find purchase on your hips as he helps steady you. You take advantage of the support and look around your camp.

It all looked exactly how you did and did not imagine. Your brain feels like it’s having a war between what your senses tell you about the land versus what your eyes are saying. You can label everything in the camp because you know where it is based on location, but none of it looks like the way you had anticipated- in fact, it was all far more breathtaking than you imagined.

“What are you thinking about Darling,” he whispers against your ear.

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, a smile consuming your face.

“I was thinking it might be fun to go explore around camp and make sure my eye is really working.”

He stares at you with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the environment and your sight hasn’t changed that much?”

Ah, that look means confusion.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” you put your hand on your hip and flash a grin, “besides, it’s not like I asked you to go with me.”

*******************************************

Astarion walks leisurely behind you as you make a point of touching anything you can reach. He thought you were the most normal one at camp (mentally at the very least), but he is beginning to think he misjudged you.

You are twirling around the forest like you’ve never been in one before. You ask him questions about specific objects and express a great deal of interest in everything you come across- you even find the rocks interesting. While he did find the strangeness to be odd, he still couldn’t help but relish in the genuine, innocent joy on your face. Astarion feels an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his body while he watches you as you bound around the forest floor.

Astarion is slowly recognizing that his plan is unraveling, but only a little bit. He had thought you would be the lovesick puppy chasing him around camp, but, as Karlach has pointed out to him, it’s the opposite.

He finds himself always making an inventory of where you are in relation to him, who you are talking to, and your feelings- even the ones he is currently disrespecting by attempting to gain your undying protection.

Now Astarion is here- watching you follow a bumble bee towards a large Oak tree.

As you stop and make a point of sitting down under a tree, you touch the various flowers scattered in the grass and excitedly chat about the details of the flower. Astarion silently sits next to you with a smile and takes a look at your face- you look like a blind man seeing for the first time. The realization hits him like an eldritch blast.

“Darling?”

You hum.

“Have you not been able to see until today?”

Astarion watches as you tense up and your eyes meet his. Astarion struggles to discern the look in your eyes- it’s somewhere between fear and apprehension. He offers you a small smile before you break eye contact with a sigh.

“I, um, was sick as a baby. My mom left me outside of a monastery. I guess whatever I was sick with attacked my vision so I could only really see colors and the basic outlines of the things,” Astarion looks at you as if to encourage you to go on so you continue, “it’s never affected me though. The monks taught me how to use my other senses and taught me how to sense energy in the air.”

Astarion is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a. He was right and b. You slept with him without knowing what he looks like? C. You are easily the second strongest in your little gang of weirdos and the entire time you could barely see.

“So when you told me I was beautiful last week?”

You blush and hide your soft grin. He hears your heart begin to race.

“I really did mean it then,” you pause,” but it’s a different kind of beautiful. I think you are a very good person- I just adore you. Your smile, your laugh, your personality- even the snarky bits. Or when you are at your absolute worst.”

You pause and give him a joking smile, “You are a real pain in the ass though. I didn’t know why everyone is so enamored with you, but now I can see why all those tiefling women kept flirting with you at the party now though.”

He tries to hide the frown that threatens to reveal itself and he sees the panic flash in your eyes.

“Not that I’m saying you are nothing but your looks because that is not true,” you bite your lip, “I just know I came to like you for who you are on the inside and that was…. Quite the experience.”

“Are you suggesting I’m an acquired taste?!”

“Hmmm,” you tap your chin, “ I suppose that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“I am truly heartbroken darling, I thought we had something special.”

He huffs playfully and pretends to be upset- ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. Astarion’s heart clenches as you look at him with the same warmth he is feeling. You break eye contact from him and he can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We do, you’re just lucky I’m a monk and I’ve been forced to practice patience my whole life.”

Astarion is lost for words as he turns over what you just said in his head. You scratch the back of your neck and start talking again.

“And not to mention, you deserve someone who is going to take the time to know you for you- not just adore you for what you look like. You are really one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met Star.”

We do. Incredible. Star.

His body feels like it might explode from the chaos of emotions spirals through his body. He thinks maybe the effects of the tadpole are wearing off because he feels like he is burning alive. He fights the urge to take you right there in the flowers.

A couple minutes later, you look up at him again- that same fear in your eyes, but also some hope. After you realize he isn’t going to say anything, you speak again.

“I am not entirely sure why you have gravitated towards me, but I really like you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way and we can just go back to being friends,” you pause, “and you won’t lose my protection. I still intend on helping you be free of Cazador once and for all.”

You look away from him, hands fiddling with the flowers. Astarion is still digesting everything you just said to him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings (even if he refuses to admit he does), he just doesn’t… deserve someone like you.

He had always been under the assumption that monks were stuffy and by-the-book. You had taken him by complete surprise. You are slyly funny, have no problems with bending the rules if it means helping someone (he doesn’t care for the intent of bending the rules, but he likes bending the rules), and you are accepting. You aren’t neutral with your feelings unless you are trying to mediate an argument or make the best decision for the group.

He appreciates how blunt you are in private- he never has to try to guess what’s on your mind. You make him feel safe like no one else has for the last 200 years.

How could I not gravitate towards you?

It also occurs to him that you have never seen yourself- how your eyes twinkle when you smile or the dimples that grace your cheeks. You hadn’t even seen your body- the same body he was starstruck by and, despite the dissociation and icky feelings, he was able to enjoy the sex between you to some extent.

He gets up from his spot on the ground next to you- your shoulders slightly slumping in defeat.

“Oh stop being so dramatic darling,” he teasingly smiles at you, “get up- I have something to show you.”

***************************************

You blindly follow Astarion to his tent- you had asked him what he wanted to show you the entire walk back, but he refused to disclose that information.

Once you were in camp, Astarion had wrapped some cloth around your eyes before dragging you in the direction of his tent.

“Now you stay right here- don’t move a muscle.”

“Oh you mean like-“

He interrupts you by swatting your hand away from his curls. You pout playfully and he pulls you to his chest before kissing you deeply. You are shocked by his actions and his gasp of surprise tells you he is just as shocked too. You feel him pull back as you start to melt against him, your hands tangled in his hair. An impatient whine escapes your lips. He chuckles.

“No, no, no,” he says, “not yet. Now stay still or there’s no more kisses for you.”

“No more kisses!?”

“You heard me!”

You stay still- the threat is more than enough to convince you to stop. You can hear and sense Astarion rustling around the tent, placing various objects of different vibrations all around his tent. It feels like it takes eons as he readjusts and moves the objects around. Finally, Astarion hums with approval.

“Alright darling, you can take the blind fold off now.”

You take off your blindfold eagerly and your eyes adjust to the warm light in the tent. As you look around, you see that Astarion had set up every mirror he owns all around the tent.

Mirrors.

You stare back at who you can only presume to be yourself. You take in all your features- dissecting yourself. The longer you stare at yourself, the unhappier you become.

You know that Astarion’s intent is good (or you hope it is), but you can’t help the frown that takes place on your face. You are so plain in comparison to Astarion and everyone in camp. Why would he want to be with you when he could have someone as stunning as Shadowheart? Someone equally as interesting to look at?

“What’s wrong,” Astarion says with alarm in his voice.

You suddenly become aware of the hot tears running down your cheeks as Astarion cups your face with his hands. You shake your head, crying harder as he wipes your tears away.

“Darling, please.”

The desperation in his voice causes you to finally meet his eyes, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“ I’m so plain looking,” you state with venom in your voice, “the rest of you are all beautiful in unique ways and I just look like everyone else.”

He scowls, shaking his head at you.

“That is not even slightly true.”

He twirls you around in his arms and has you facing the mirrors again. You have to remind myself that he is behind you still as you feel his fingers trace the details of your face (it would really ruin the moment if you elbowed him in the ribs).

“No one shines like you do. No one smiles like you or laughs like you- crinkles their eyes when they are happy like you. You are funny and intelligent; and by the Gods you are powerful. The fact that you have been fighting blind this whole time is absolutely incredible. You, darling, are a force of nature,” he puts his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin, “I may say a lot of honeyed words, but I wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true.

“And, in all my 200 years of living, I must say, you are like no beauty I have ever seen before.”

You can’t help but smile brightly and you try to look at yourself the way he sees you. Maybe you can see the person he is referring to, but you just need more time to get used to actually seeing yourself. Maybe with time, you will be able to see how brightly you shine too- you’ll just have to work at it.

You smile at yourself softly and say a quiet you’re wonderful to yourself before looking away from the mirrors.

You turn around and give Astarion a soft, long kiss- he sighs into it, meeting your tempo until you pull away; Breathless like a fish out of water. He puts his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you, Astarion- I think you shine too.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #volo

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tameodesza · 1 month ago

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all of you

♡ Summary: Shawn’s self-esteem takes a hit after reading hate comments

♡ a/n: we love old men in love, don't we? AO3.

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed as soon as he stepped inside of his quaint suburban home. It had been a stressful week full of press conferences, board meetings, and creative discussion with Raw and Smackdown talent. With his busy schedule, he was rarely afforded the opportunity to enjoy the peace and quiet of the home he and Shawn built. Shawn was just as busy with NXT, so their competing schedules made it quite difficult to see each other with whatever free time they had.

It was an arrangement that would destroy most marriages, but Shawn and Hunter had built a solid foundation decades before committing to one other. They’d been glued to each other since the 90’s, their friendship blossoming into a beautiful partnership that stood the test of time. They’d matured, no longer arguing about the distance or getting pissed when the other was too busy to answer the phone. Their trust was immeasurable, knowing there would always come a time when they’d reunite. Like tonight.

Hunter kicked off his dress shoes, placing them neatly next to the cluttered pile of Shawn’s cowboy boots, sneakers, and house slippers. He looped a finger at the neck of his tie, loosening the constricting fabric until he exhaled in relief. A smile tugged at his lips as he entered the kitchen to find the counter filled with groceries that Shawn clearly forgot to put away. Over 20 years of marriage and Shawn's short attention span still amazed him.

“Shawn?” His voice rang throughout the house announcing his presence. He expected to hear his husband’s rushed footsteps racing towards his awaiting arms. Yet, there wasn't a peep.

Hunter did a walkthrough of their home, each room leaving traces of his husband. The TV in the living room still played a movie Shawn had yet to finish. In the laundry room, the washing machine neared the end of a wash cycle. An uncapped tube of toothpaste rested on the counter of their bathroom.

It wasn’t until Hunter reached their home office that he found Shawn slouched over in a chair, eyes glued to his phone with a perturbed look on his face. Now, Shawn wasn’t a big tech guy. He barely knew how to work a computer, let alone a smartphone. So, Hunter knew the blond was entertained by some dumb meme or came across a rude comment he couldn't shake.

Hunter hoped for the meme, but judging by his husband’s clouded expression, he knew it was the latter.

Hunter exhaled as he closed the door softly behind him. “Shawn. Put the phone down.”

But Shawn’s eyes never wavered, the blond barely hearing Hunter approach as comments from his recent Instagram post continued to flood in. He wished to look away, but he couldn’t. His finger kept scrolling as if on autopilot, positive comments ignored as he focused on the negative. Every harsh word felt like a sharp knife digging deeper into his insecurities. He only snapped out of his trance when he felt Hunter’s hand clasp over his own before slowly pulling the device from his grasp.

Hunter placed the phone on a bookshelf far out of Shawn’s reach. Then he stood behind Shawn, rubbing his hands along the blond's shoulders in a gentle massage. Shawn let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, sinking back comfortably into Hunter’s embrace.

Hunter leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Shawn temple. He whispered, “You won’t be needing that now that I’m here.”

He lightly pecked Shawn’s ear, then his cheek. Before he could kiss his neck, Shawn asked, “Am I washed up?”

Hunter felt an ache in his chest at how vulnerable Shawn sounded. He did his best every day – whether it was in-person or through texts – to remind Shawn how much he loved him. To remind him that he was an amazing person, that so many people admired and adored him. It’s not that Shawn didn’t believe him. But any progress he had in getting the blond to see how valued he was went away whenever Shawn came across a hateful comment.

“No, baby. Of course not.”

Hunter kissed the nape of Shawn’s neck, hoping to provide a needed distraction, but halted when Shawn said, “You should see what they say about me.”

Hunter let out a patient sigh. He stood straight, rounding the chair to see the dejected look in his husband’s eyes. He grabbed a chair of his own, dragging it over to sit directly in front of Shawn. He took his husband’s hand, brushing a thumb tenderly across the back. “What have I said about reading comments?”

His tone was gentle, delicate, yet Shawn couldn’t help but look away as if he were being scolded. “I know, I know. But...I can’t help it. Especially when I’m looking for fan feedback just to see people saying I’m too old. I’m too skinny. I’ve lost my hair. I have a lazy eye. My voice is shot-”

“Don’t let that get to you.”

“Easy for you to say. People still think you’re hot.”

Hunter would’ve laughed had it not been for the seriousness of their conversation. He shifted closer until their knees touched, his grip on Shawn’s hand tightening. “I don’t care what people think, Shawn. Neither should you.”

Shawn swallowed thickly. “You’re not the one they’re calling a homewrecker.”

Hunter’s thumb stilled. “That’s not true. You know that-”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Hunter stressed, frustration slipping through his tone. “Why do you believe a bunch of random people on the internet more than your own husband?”

Shawn’s shoulders slumped, his voice softening, “Hunter, no. It’s not that. It’s just-” he sighed, failing to search for the right words. “Sometimes I wish I could be like how I used to be. Back when I was the arrogant asshole that people hated. At least shit like this didn’t get to me.”

If this had been the 90’s, Shawn wouldn't have cared what others thought of him. Back then, he was conceited, pompous, too full of himself. But at least he was confident. He wasn’t afraid to tell people to go fuck off. He didn't care if he came off too strong or if he hurt anyone’s feelings. He was universally hated, but that hate fed his ego – because at least that meant he had everyone’s attention.

But he was a different man now, humbled by the errors of his past.

Maybe this was his karma, Shawn thought. The long, flowy head of hair he was once known for was now a balding crown. His good looks, once envied by many, changed partly due to aging and years' worth of substance abuse. The athletic body he once flaunted had lost much of its muscle mass.

Sometimes he wondered what Hunter saw in him, if Hunter had buyer’s remorse, if he regretted leaving his past relationship for him. The thought was silly to anyone that saw how in love Hunter was with Shawn, but it was hard for Shawn to see it that way when the comments ripped him to shreds.

Hunter tugged Shawn’s arm, pulling the blond into his chair until Shawn settled comfortably on his lap. He placed Shawn’s head on his shoulder, holding him tightly as if to squeeze every negative thought out of his head. He knew how much regret Shawn had about the past, how much pain he felt remembering those he’d hurt on his way to the top.

But it wasn’t fair. Shawn had worked so hard to change himself, to become the kind person that he was today. He'd suffered enough, had beat himself up enough about his mistakes. But the internet would never forget, and Hunter wished he could fight every person that made his husband feel less than what he saw him as.

“You’re beautiful.”

Shawn smiled weakly. “You’re just saying that because you’re my husband...and because I won’t cook dinner if you said otherwise.”

Hunter smirked. “I tell no lies. I love you, Shawn. All of you.”

Hunter hoped that would lift Shawn’s mood, but his expression remained dim. He never liked seeing Shawn upset. It further frustrated him that his positive words of affirmation didn't seem to be working. None of it mattered if Shawn didn’t believe it himself.

“People say shit about me too, you know.”

Shawn sat up, lifting a confused brow. “What could anyone possibly say about you? That you’re too buff? Your beard's too full? You have a perfect hairline-”

“I played Steph.” Shawn’s sarcastic grin dwindled, tension rising as old skeletons resurfaced. “That I got with her only to secure my position in the company and left as soon as I got what I wanted. That I was screwing around with you behind her back.”

It was quite the scandal in the early 2000’s. Gossip sites, dirt sheets, and even mainstream tabloids covered the issue, making the McMahon-Helmsley split seem more salacious that it actually was: “Wife-to-Be, Stephanie McMahon, Left at the Altar for Another Man!”

When it turned out that the ‘other man’ was Shawn Michaels, all hell broke loose. There was a period of time where Shawn didn’t leave his home in fear of paparazzi following him. He and Hunter were both written off TV until the company could figure out how to address the public. Hunter spent most of that time in Texas with Shawn, consoling him and promising that everything would be ok once the truth was out.

The reality was that Stephanie and Hunter had a long, open and honest conversation about everything before amicably calling off the engagement. Their relationship had been on a downward spiral for some time, and Hunter knew Stephanie was too smart to ignore the signs. He admitted that he was in love with Shawn. Had been since 1996, but never pursued anything because Shawn was with Kevin. Then he was with Bret. Then Taker. And by 1999 he was gone from the company.

Years later, Hunter had moved on with Stephanie, both developing feelings for each other when they were put together for a storyline. But when Shawn returned, so did the feelings that Hunter tried so hard to bury. It was like Shawn had never left, their connection running deeper than anything he had with Stephanie.

Hunter never cheated, at least not physically. But emotionally, his heart was torn in opposite directions. He’d tried being ‘just friends’ with Shawn, tried pushing his feelings aside, tried committing to his engagement with Stephanie. But he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. There were many instances where he almost crossed the line with Shawn – empty locker rooms, late nights at bars, sharing hotel rooms. The opportunity had always presented itself, but Hunter had too much respect for both Stephanie and Shawn to put them in that position.

So, he told Stephanie everything. He knew there was a chance that it wouldn’t work out with Shawn, that the blond could reject him, that his friendship with Kevin would likely be soured by him dating his ex. There were so many risks, but Hunter chose to follow his heart and not go through with the wedding.

Things were awkward for a bit after that, even messier since Hunter was involved on the business side of WWE. But all wounds healed over time, though Shawn’s guilty conscience would never let him forget the role he played.

“That’s different,” said Shawn. “They didn’t have all the facts-”

“And neither do these idiots that talk shit about you today.” Shawn quieted, not having a decent rebuttal. “You want to know what else they say about me?”

“No, Hunter. I get it-”

“That I got a wrinkly forehead. I mean, it’s bad enough they come for my nose. But my forehead?! Now that’s going too far.”

Hunter’s exaggerated rant had done exactly as intended – cracked a smile on Shawn’s face, a giggle bubbling in his throat before he burst into laughter.

“How dare they,” Shawn teased. He cupped Hunter’s face in his hands, pulling him forward to kiss the man’s ‘wrinkly’ forehead, then the tip of his nose. His lips ghosted over Hunter’s, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I love you. All of you, you sexy man.”

They wore matching smiles, their stretched age lines reflecting years of happiness. A lot had changed over time, but one thing that remained steady was their unwavering love for each other.

Hunter placed his hand on the back of Shawn’s, gently voicing, “I need you to do something for me, ok?” Shawn nodded. “No more social media for a while. We can get someone to manage your accounts if you want, but you need a break, Shawn.”

Hunter expected some pushback, but was surprised when Shawn gave a quiet, “Ok.” Shawn pressed their lips together, sharing a short, sweet kiss before resting his head back on Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Shawn. Me too.”

They stayed like that for some time, two old men grateful to still be in each other’s lives, mind and bodies matured not just by time, but their decades-long fight for each other. In Hunter’s protective arms, those harsh comments that previously echoed in Shawn’s mind faded into the background.

#divider cr: @enchanthings #shawnter #shawn michaels x triple h #hhhbk #shawn michaels #triple h #alternate universe #wwe fanfiction #wwf

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anomalymon · 10 months ago

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Addressing Anti-Endogenics in the Alterhuman Community

I keep seeing posts about being baffled by anti-endogenic alterhumans, but I haven't actually seen too many posts which address why being an anti-endogenic alterhuman doesn't make sense. Nor have I seen many which don't talk down to anti-endogenics or intentionally piss them off, which I think is counter-productive in this. I'm on an essay writing kick so I might as well.

This isn't to try to prove endogenic systems. There are already many who have done this. I'd recommend looking through Endogenic & Non-Traumagenic Plurality Resources by Guardians System. I don't agree with the use of sysmed, but for a link collection, it's very effective. Rather, this is to explain why there is an overlap and why some are concerned.

Because I feel this essay is important, I will be making a bulleted list first, and you can read further if you want the elaboration. I understand not everyone wants to read an over 1,500 word essay.

What is endogenic?: Endogenic for systems means being a system for a reason other than trauma - endogenic systems can still have trauma and dissociation, and the belief of cause can be literally anything including neurological, spirituality, or intentional creation. Many subcultures, some unrelated, exist under it.

System/Otherkin Historical Overlap: Plurality and kin have overlapped for over twenty years. Otherkin was used to mean nonhumans in systems, and fictive came from soulbonding which was/is a very fictionkin-dominant space.

Terminology: System is not DID only and has been used predominantly by endogenic systems since the early 90s. Most plural groups have historically shared terminology and the gatekeeping of such is very recent. This is concerningly close to paralleling what we're seeing with therianthropy gatekeeping.

Subjective Experiences: Trying to explain your subjective experiences to anti-endogenics and anti-kin are alike in being difficult and people not always being receptive to actual studies or arguments.

Similar Spirituality: Spiritual endogenic system origins are very similar to many spiritual alterhuman origins with the difference being level of separation and indiviudality between host/'type or different 'types.

Similar Experiences in Psych: Both alterhumans and endogenic systems have gaps in research and similarities with how we experience degradation from a psychological standpoint or being "insane". What is an endogenic system? This may be the most important thing to get out of the way - as I've noticed many people who are anti-endogenic don't actually know what endogenic means.

Endogenic just means a system that formed for a reason other than trauma. It doesn't say anything about having no trauma at all nor anything about dissociative experiences, and it can be anything from neurological, spiritual, intentionally created, or seemingly random odds. There are several subcultures under this umbrella - including some that don't even use endogenic or origin terminology, or ones that don't use system terminology.

Endogenic systems can have trauma later in life, they can also still have dissociative disorders from that trauma. Endogenic systems can still be diagnosed with DID.

It is a poor binary - but the reason it exists is most conversations surrounding systems have to do with trauma. Origin doesn't always matter when it comes to systems and that is a separate topic, however, it surrounds validation discussion and discourse.

The otherkin and plural communities have overlaped for over twenty years

For a long time there has been a huge overlap between otherkin and fictionkin with plurality in particular - at least for as long as both groups have been making websites and likely longer.

To highlight this the best, the overlap was to the point that "otherkin" was used for nonhuman system members in the past. Dark Personalities circa 2001 defined otherkin as "People in a multiple system who are not human. Often they are walk-ins, claiming to be older than the body in which they reside, and having physical traits very different from the body itself. Multiples are often hosts to otherkin." Source, Kinhost had an otherkin multiple FAQ since 2001 Source, and it even appeared in a list of DID terminology in 2013 Source.

On top of that, the term "fictive" originated within fictionkin-dominant soulbonding spaces. I'd recommend A Timeline of the Fictionkin Community by House of Chimeras for further reading on this.

The overlap exists in many ways in addition to what we have historically. What we deal with when it comes to certain types of discourse is simular, dealing with people against our subjective experiences has the same level of frustration, we have very similar spiritual beliefs in particular, and there are similarities with what we go through in the field of psychology.

Terminology out of the way: "but system is DID only!"

The simple answer is that it's not. I'd highly recommend reading A Brief History of the Use of "System" in Non-DID Spaces by LB-Lee on this subject, as they have been around for longer than my system has and this is a well-researched article. "System" is just a noun for a group of entities that exist in a body.

Terminology has historically been shared between both groups as they're needed. Fictive and headmate for example originated from endogenic groups while "host" seemingly cropped up multiple times independently - and terms like switching and fronting are needed because there isn't a better alternative. This didn't become an "issue" until about 2015 or so.

From a sociological standpoint however, something very similar has almost happened to the therianthropy and otherkin communities and arguably there is a similar problem already happening. There are those who claim that therian and otherkin are spiritual only and completely exclude and gatekeep psychological experiences - or cry someone with clinical lycanthropy using terms like shifting is appropriation. While they can normally be disproved, there are those who double down that this is spiritual-only. These communities are even developing their own binary - spiritual vs. psychological.

While this is a bit of a reverse to what happened with the plural community, that is a note of why these beliefs can be concerning within the alterhuman community. We are getting a bit too close for comfort to restricting and gatekeeping terminology based on a binary, and also teeter on the edge of expecting "proof" of an experience that's very hard to prove.

The nightmare of trying to explain your subjective experiences

As this is an essay for the alterhuman community, I am sure most of you reading this have encountered the scenario of trying to explain your subjective experience to some anti-kin or other group that is not having it. You can try to discuss your nonhuman experiences, cite historical and academic sources, insist with everything you have that what you're experiencing is real, but if someone is set in not believing you, it's ultimately a waste of time. The same thing applies here.

I could give you a long, detailed explanation about why we know we are a system. Many other systems would also be able to do the same thing - and many have tried. Ultimately it's up to you if you want to believe someone's subjective experiences or not - and if you don't believe it, it's up to you if you want to respect them or not.

To also claim that one is appropriating experiences is ridiculous. Are therianthropes appropriating from those with clinical lycanthropy, fictionkin appropriating from delusional misidentification, or otherlinkers appropriating from copinglinkers? There is a broad overlap and some shared terminology for convince over what can be subjectively a very similar experience - and you can't claim with certainty or in good faith that someone's experiences in and of themself are appropriating someone else.

Spiritually, you're likely very close to believing in endogenic systems

While not every otherkin, therian, or other identity inherently believes in spirituality, there is usually some coexistence or respect for others with beliefs different from you as spirituality can be a large element of the community. Most of these spiritual beliefs are already close to how spiritual endogenic systems might experience things.

Almost the exact same mechanisms which create spiritual alterhumanity is the same for spiritual systems. Various terms are already shared between spiritual alterhuman and spiritual system communities (and even non-spiritual system communities): walk-in for spiritual events and source vs. canon for fiction-based identities for example.

Additionally, several experiences are shared between these two groups. Existing in the astral plane or having experiences travelling through the astral for one. Communicating with spirits can also be a part of both - and that's where communities like soulbonding existed in tandum with fictionkin and even created the term fictive itself.

If someone believes in reincarnation and they can talk to and interact with their past selves - that is plural and can be considered an endogenic system. Same for if someone feels that their body at birth gave host to multiple souls. The difference between these experiences and polykin beliefs is just degree of individuality.

In the field of psychology, we are allies

Much of alterhumanity is arguably even less recognized by psychology. There are studies which showcase them of course, but there are also studies which showcase endogenic systems. Neither has many studies for similar reasons - we don't usually have a clinical need for help, and if we do, it can be extremely difficult to get it.

The potential for psych abuse or degradation in psychological settings exists for both of us - with how ridiculous it is to have abnormal other than human experiences, or how insane it is to be a system without fitting the DID model. The otherkin and therian communities in particular have a known saying along the lines of "If someone outside the community asks you for an interview: run" and it can be the same for endogenic systems.

Accusing others of faking their experiences only does harm to all of us. Giving our oppressors and ableists - in the sense of those who mock or degrade experiences for deeming them "insane" - an excuse to do so means they will take it and will use it to turn against others. If someone doesn't believe someone for something like being more than one entity in a physical body for any reason other than trauma, why should they believe you for identifying as nonhuman?

Conclusion

The endogenic and alterhuman communities are intertwined and respect of alterhumanity is in most of the steps the way to respecting all systems. The purpose of this essay is to get anti-endogenic alterhumans to reflect on their beliefs, and I hope that this was successful in doing that.

Others have made essays trying to argue for proof of their existence, and the sources are out there. I'd still implore you to get to know endogenic systems and remember that we are people and not just a discourse topic. Reflecting on our similarities in discourse, spirituality, ableism can help us move forward as communities.

#alterhuman #otherkin #therian #fictionkin #alterhuman essay #systempunk

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