#but Some Bitches like to reduce romance to kissing and sex

[thetarttfuldickhead]

"I’m not even a hardcore shipper but what the hell am I supposed to do when the when “let’s get lost, let’s get lost in each others arms” plays over Roy and Jamie biking away from the windmill? Hmm?"

bro exactly 😂 like I wasn't against the ship, not a notp, but I didn't actively ship the pair at all or anything. but it's like, what am I supposed to do!! how can I not fall for this now!! you can lead me to water and damn I will drink okay!

You cannot be blamed or faulted in any way, dear nonny! This episode was a whole new level, that’s for sure (particularly, I feel, with the shared look and smile in front of the windmill and then the music starts playing… I mean, come on, what WAS that? Up until then it could have been just two buddies being buddies, but that just read a little too goddamned romantic to me. Doesn’t mean I think it’s intended to be read that way, by the by, but even so).

To be honest, I did ship them before… but a little hesistantly? Like, with how complex and gorgerous and layered their relationship is, I wasn’t – and am still not, if I’m being honest – sure I want or need romance and sex thrown in there as well. Sometimes I think that the inclusion of that tends to overshadow other aspects and reduce the relationship to being primarily about this one thing? I wouldn’t want that, not when we have the way Roy is obviously something of a paternal influence on Jamie, but Jamie is the only one of the players that quite often take the role of Roy’s peer? The way Roy’s being the only person Jamie is still a bit of a prick to at times, but also the person Jamie actively seeks out to comfort and help? How Roy is far rougher on Jamie than on anyone else, still thinks him a prima donna and fragile little bitch, but also pays him so much attention? Is willing to sacrifiece sleep and so much of his time to train him? Quoting one Jamie Tartt, “that’s mad, innit?”.

So I kind of want them to grow into something more, but I’m also resisting the idea that romance would actually be more. Romance and/or sex to me isn’t some higher order of relationship, not something necessarily deeper or more meaningful that any other strong relationship. I like what we have. I think is plenty.

But, okay, Roy and Jamie kissing would objectively be really, really hot, so of course I want that! They’d be such an interesting couple! Give me that! But maybe don’t! It’s complicated.

Now, Roy and Jamie and Keeley I ship unreservedly. This is the endgame I want (although one I deem sadly unprobably, if not wholly hopeless!). You might questions why my potential objections against Jamie x Roy don’t apply here, and that’s very fair and I don’t have a good answer, except there’s something about there being three of them that changes the dynamic to make it inherently complex and intriguing and yeah, that’s vague, but that’s what I’ve got.

Thank you for the ask, nonny - and happy shipping!

[baya-ni]

Renga Shouldn’t Be Canon (clickbait)

No but seriously, I hope that Renga doesn’t become canon, at least not in the way that I think a lot of people are hoping that it will. Personally, I’m not expecting anything close to a kiss and confession and that’s fine by me.

Queerbaiting is a problem in mainstream media, there’s no doubt about it, and many people both within and outside the queer community are right to feel wary about hoping for that kind of representation. Personally, I’m still caught by surprise every time a queer person or couple is depicted in a normalized and healthy way onscreen. And that just speaks to the appallingly poor representation queer people are so used to seeing.

But I think that fandom likes to throw the word “queerbaiting” around a bit haphazardly, much in the same way faux woke people throw around words like “gaslighting” and “cancel culture”. They’ve become buzz words to evoke immediate feelings of self-righteousness and to prey on person’s fear of appearing ignorant or bigoted.

Unfortunately, I worry that when the season inevitably ends without Renga’s “canonization”, people will unfairly label Sk8 as Queerbait. And I have many Feelings about this- mostly frustration.

But we’re only mid-season. I can only guess where the show is going to go and only make assumptions about fandom behavior based on personal experience, and there’s a high possibility I’ll be proven totally wrong so... take whatever I say with a grain of salt. But anyway, let’s get on with it.

Fundamentally, Sk8 isn’t shoujo, it’s not BL- it’s a sports anime. And while that doesn’t preclude a total absence of romance between its characters, ultimately those aren’t the kinds of relationships that sports anime concerns itself with. The most prominent relationships you’ll see will be more along the lines of Teammates and Rivals (there's also a third dynamic I'm calling Opponents which is Not the same as Rivals but the Opponents dynamic is less relevant to my point so I'll focus on just the first two).

However, it's not hard to see why romantic interpretations are so common among fans of sports anime. At their core, the basis of Teammate and Rival dynamics bear many similarities to that of a compelling romance. Both Teammate and Rival relationships are built upon two characters' mutual admiration and respect for one another, they involve characters learning from one another and being inspired to push themselves to be their best. There's a great deal of trust involved, as is vulnerability, communication, and empathy. In other words, all the essentials of any healthy relationship.

But context and genre are important. I think that a good romance is one that is unique to its characters specific personalities and needs, as well as is believable within the context of the setting and story. For an anime like Sk8, I would find an on-screen kiss strange and out of place (unless it was done for comedic effect which would be... bad).

I'm reminded of this quote from Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which is one of my all time favorite films:

"Do all lovers feel as though they are inventing something? I know the gestures. I imagined them all waiting for you."

And that basically sums up what I've described, albeit more poetically. Love is invention. Romantic gestures form a unique language between lovers. And if I may add, genre and narrative establish the basis for the emotional significance of these gestures.

In a genre like action/thriller, one of the most meaningful things a character can do is risk their safety or straight up sacrifice themselves for another, because bodily harm and physical risks drive the tension in these kinds of narratives. In the romance genre, confessions, physical intimacy, and grand romantic displays serve the same purpose. In something like sports anime, I argue that its gestures like physically accommodating for your teammate, supporting them when they feel dejected, and being motivated to train harder and be better for the sake of being allowed to stand beside them, that hold equivalent significance.

But this is all broadly speaking, and genre is just one element. Characters’ personalities, habits, insecurities, and trauma, as well as a story’s themes, further specify the kinds of gestures that hold the most meaning in a narrative.

Let’s look again at Portrait of a Lady on Fire, on my favorite scenes:

Portrait is interested in subverting the power imbalance inherent between the Artist and the Muse, the Voyeur and the Subject, the Looker and she who is Looked At. Heloise’s observations of Marianne hold great significance because of this theme; she disrupts the power imbalance by taking back agency as the Subject, demonstrating that she is just as capable of Looking at the Artist just as the Artist does at her. This is visually represented by the framing of the final shot. With the camera pulled back, we now see Marianne as Heloise has been seeing her, and she is now subject to being visually scrutinized in the same way that Heloise has been up to this point in the film.

This scene is so poignant because the romantic gesture it depicts ties heavily to the story’s themes, its characters’ personalities, and its existence is believable within its genre.

Now, let’s bring this all back to Sk8. In this show, what sort of gestures are given the most significance?

Skateboarding. Duh.

Basically, this line establishes that “basis for emotional significance” that I mentioned earlier, such that skating is the means by which characters and relationships are developed and the plot is driven forward, that any and everything related to skating potentially holds symbolic meaning.

And specifically, equating the act of skating to love then allows for more romantic interpretations of all kinds of scenes. Take for example, these parallel sets of shots from ep 1:

(I mean cmon look at his tiny blush, it’s fucking adorable) And:

In a show that equates skating to a “ritual of love”, these scenes can be realistically be interpreted as Langa and Reki falling in love with one another. Skating acts as both the catalyst for their relationship as well as later on being the means by which they express their feelings and develop their relationship.

Skating is their love language.

Ok, I’ll try to wrap this up since this post has gotten wayyy too long. But basically my point is that Renga is about as canon as this show could possibly make it within the confines of its genre and narrative. Romance in sports anime is different from romance in shoujo, but it’s romance all the same, in the same way that different people express love in different ways.

A kiss and confession is not the only means by which a ship can become canon. And I personally would much rather have this kind of carefully crafted symbolism than a kiss just randomly shoehorned in.

But I understand that in the face of centuries of censorship, cop-outs, and barely believable and forced heteronormativity, people want same-sex intimacy onscreen, unapologetic and normalized. I get that.

But in my opinion, Sk8 isn’t queerbait, and it shouldn’t be accused as such just because its characters won’t kiss onscreen. I think this show depicts a wonderful and loving relationship between two boys, that isn’t any less loving just because it doesn’t fit into conventional romantic tropes.

Edit: I did a followup post about Sk8 and its queer representation here, where I go more in depth into the ways that Sk8 represents queerness through beyond its implied homo-romantic relationships.

So yeah, I’d love to hear yalls thoughts :)

[sundaysundaes]

Craving

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?

It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.

Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that) 

Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.

Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.

So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m trying to do my laundry.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”

“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!” 

Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.

So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?

The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.

He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate. 

“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”

And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”

Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”

And you smack him in the head with your book.

Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.

So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.

“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”

“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”

“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”

You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.

Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?” 

“I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.

“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.

Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.

“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”

“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?

Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.

“Babe.”

You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”

“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.

Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.

“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”

“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”

“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”

“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”

“What, ethereal?”

“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”

He gasps and he’s not even breathing.

And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.

Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”

“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”

“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”

“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”

“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”

“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”

“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”

“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”

“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”

“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”

“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”

He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”

“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”

He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”

You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.

You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.

“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”

He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”

You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”

“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”

“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.

He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”

He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.

“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”

Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.

“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps. 

You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.

He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”

His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”

“Of course not—”

“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.

You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.

Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.

But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did. 

Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.

So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

Donghyuck blinked. “What?”

“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”

That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”

But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t hurt me—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”

It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.

So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.

He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”

“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”

He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes. 

“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”

Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”

You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”

“You went into my closet?”

“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”

“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”

“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”

Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”

“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”

He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”

“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air. 

He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.

He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks. 

The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.

“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“I—I wasn’t staring.”

“Never said you were.”

It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”

He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.

“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”

You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”

“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”

“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”

You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”

“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”

You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”

“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t waste a second longer. 

His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.

The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?

You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.

Yes. Yes, he could.

But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”

“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”

You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”

“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”

“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”

“Why you little—”

Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.

“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous.”

“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”

“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”

He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”

“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”

“Girls?”

“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”

He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“I heard that.”

“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.

Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.

Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.

“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”

You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.

“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”

“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.

“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”

You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel. 

“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.

Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.

Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”

You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.

Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”

“What?”

“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”

Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”

“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”

He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”

“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”

“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”

“Oh my God—”

“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”

You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.

“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”

He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”

“Shut up.”

No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.” 

You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.

“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss. 

Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”

“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”

He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”

You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.

You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”

He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.

You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.

You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene. 

Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.

As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.

You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.

Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”

The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.

“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”

You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.

“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”

“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”

He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.

As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”

You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”

The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand. 

He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.

“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”

He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm. 

The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"

His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."

You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”

And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.

You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"

He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream. 

With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shook your head.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”

“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.

“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.

“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”

His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re gross.”

“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Well, I’m going to love you.”

But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”

“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”

“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”

He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”

With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”

“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”

“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”

You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”

“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”

You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”

“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”

You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”

“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”

“Do you want to be punched again?”

“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”

The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.

You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”

 You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.

Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”

You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”

He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”

You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”

He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”

You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”

“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”

You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”

Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”

“Yeah.”

“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”

You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.

***

“Babe, you ready?”

You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.

So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones. 

“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”

He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”

“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”

“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”

“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”

He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”

You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

You can’t wait until your date is over.

***

Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.

You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”

“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”

You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”

“You sure?”

You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.

Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.

When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.

It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”

“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.” 

Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”

“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”

“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”

“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”

Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”

“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”

“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”

He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”

“Can’t I just linger around here?”

“To see me or to see him?”

“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”

He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”

“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”

You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more. 

“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”

You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.

“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.

After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away.  He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated. 

A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck, how is he so hot?

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”

“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”

Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”

Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”

“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”

You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”

He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”

But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”

He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied. 

Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”

A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”

“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”

“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”

“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”

“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”

You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”

“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips.  The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”

His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”

“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”

You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.

Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.

“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”

Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.

And moves his fingers again.

Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.

He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.

“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling.  They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”

“What to do? My purse is inside.”

“Shall we ask around for the key?”

You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”

Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”

Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.

You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.

“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.

When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.

“My turn now.”

***

[omg-imagine]

Distraction

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: Johnny distracts V the best way he knows how.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: language, smut (oral + rough sex, choking)

A/N: Please don’t mind the weak plot, this was just an excuse to write p*rn featuring the only character I want to romance in the game but can’t. Also, for the sake of this fic, let’s just say he can touch V and vice versa :)) Hope you enjoy!

V was pissed.

No, she was beyond pissed.

And when V’s beyond pissed, she’s sure to let the whole fucking world know.

“Tone it down, princess,” Johnny cuts in once he’s heard enough of her long-winded rant.

V stops her relentless pacing around the apartment and shoots a menacing glare towards the rocker.

“I warned you not to take that job from the start. Now, look at you, bruised up from head to toe, and cheated out of your eddies.”

“That son of a bitch promised me half the cut,” V recalls bitterly, her chest heaving from the fierce anger spreading all throughout. “I’m gonna make sure Cruz regrets asking me for help.”

The merc stalks off to her stash, muttering low under her breath how she plans on raising hell the next time she crosses paths with him. As V polishes her guns (something she typically does to calm herself), Johnny approaches the small room to the side with the same cocky attitude that would surely piss her off even more.

He can’t help himself at times; he sure does love pushing V’s buttons.

“You done whining or what?”

Rolling her eyes, V turns her head to see Johnny standing there as he takes a drag on his cigarette. Normally, she doesn’t mind him smoking around her, but after an exhausting night where things didn’t work out in her favor, she was quickly reaching her boiling point. “You better clean up all that ash on the floor when you’re done.”

“Since when did you start caring about this shithole of an apartment being neat?” Johnny comments, more so as a tease, and this earns him another scowl. “Don’t waste your energy on Cruz. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Didn’t know you believed in karma,” V adds, narrowing her eyes.

Devilishly, he smirks at her, tossing the cigarette butt to the floor then crushing it with his shoe. “Hon, there’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me.”

“Yeah,” she agrees before brushing past Johnny. “I’m heading out.”

His figure glitches momentarily, reminding V that he was nothing but a ghost residing in her mind, despite how real he feels. Even if she wants to leave this “shithole of an apartment” for some semblance of peace and quiet, she knows Johnny will only follow. He’s tethered to her for what could possibly be the rest of her life.

And yet, no matter how big of an asshole Silverhand was, she’s grown fond of his presence.

Not that she would mention it out loud. Ever.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” V simply states, wondering what the point in Johnny asking her that question when he could easily find it out for himself was.

It’s truly unfair how he can read her thoughts, but she can’t read any of his.

He chuckles low. “Gon’ pay a joy toy to fuck tonight?”

“No, I’m going out for a drive, distract myself from that shitshow earlier. You better leave me alone.”

“Well, I’m a little insulted,” Johnny snorts, feigning offense. “I thought you liked my company.”

“I’m tired of your company. You never shut that mouth of yours.”

Before V could head to the door, she feels a metal hand encircling her wrist, holding her in place. She glances behind her, meeting Johnny’s deep, dark eyes, which hid a multitude of secrets. It’s been a while since she has felt a touch that wasn’t full of malice. Though his palm is cold from the material it’s made out of, a distinct heat spreads through her body—

It was a familiar warmth, one that radiates from V at his mere touch.

And when Johnny’s lips curl into a shit-eating grin, she knows that he has sensed it too.

“Shut my mouth? I think I can do something else much better than that.”

Johnny’s gravelly voice fuels the desire burning deep within V as he pulls her closer, her feet moving at their own accord. “God, I wish you came with an off-switch.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this little game we’ve been playing.”

V doesn’t respond, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She lets out a shuddering moan when Johnny leans in, his hot breath grazing her silky skin before his lips crash against hers, possessively. He floods V’s senses all at once as he hungrily kisses her, letting him take the reins.

It would be a lie for V to say she’s never pictured a moment like this. A moment where she finally succumbs to Johnny’s charm and allows him to lay claim on her. It’s always been a constant dance between the two, a chemistry disguised as indifference, a craving left unspoken. Amidst the degrading insults and the snarky attitudes, deep down, they have always wanted the same thing—

To fuck each other’s brains out.

“Still tired of my company, V?”

“Just shut the fuck up for once and take off your pants.”

The grin on his face hasn’t disappeared. It only grows broader. “Ask, and you shall receive.”

Johnny roughly grabs V at the waist, his fingers curling underneath the hem of her shirt as he pushes her towards the bed. His mouth latches onto her neck, no doubt marking her for all of Night City to see.

They fell onto the mattress without finesse, similar to how V kisses Johnny feverishly, all tongue and teeth. Void of tenderness and only driven by the urgency of lust. She was too distracted by her want to care for the taste of tobacco from his last smoke. The hands traveling every inch of V’s frame lights up a fire in her, bringing a high that no drug on the black market could ever do.

Surprisingly, Johnny allows her to take the lead for a bit when she straddles him, his hardening cock pressing up against her aching cunt. She gages his reaction as she grinds on his clothed erection, a wicked smile forming to the sight of him being teased.

“You like that, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to have you inside of me.” She feels herself growing wetter and wetter, losing patience just as swiftly as the man under her.

Without warning, Johnny flips them both over, the length of his body now pressed against hers from above. He wastes no time peeling V’s shirt and bra off, pausing for the briefest of seconds to admire her bare breasts. His cybernetic hand squeezes one soft mound as his lips descend on the other. She moans, and they were pure music to his ears, sounds that were so beautiful he could write endless songs about them.

“J-Johnny,” V stutters out his name, unable to contain herself anymore. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has quickly reduced her into a mess, and desperately she wanted, needed more.

The way his name trembles from her mouth drives Johnny into a frenzy, simpering at the fact he really hasn’t done much yet, but it was enough to leave V quivering. She looks too sinful beneath Johnny, too delectable. He’s well-aware of how long she’s gone without sex, and he’s now bent on ending that sad streak of hers.

Hastily, Johnny removes V’s pants and underwear in one quick go, his gaze devouring her beauty like a starved man staring at his meal. “Wow, you’re fucking drenched down there.”

“Fuck,” she gasps, one hand reaching forward to grip at his lengthy locks as soon as he delves in to taste her dripping nectar for the first time.

“You enjoying yourself there, baby?” Johnny’s inquiry needs no response. He could already tell she is solely by the way her eyes flutter shut, her head lolling to the side.

One lick. Two licks. Three. He surely knew how to work that deft tongue of his.

Johnny’s cock continues to throb in the confines of his trousers as his lips encircle V’s swollen bud, but he doesn’t end there. She wants more, and he’s willing to give her just that.

More.

V squirms when two chrome fingers enter her heat, stretching out her walls to prepare her for the serious pounding coming up. She’s lost in the sensations, unable to form a coherent thought or word. Johnny’s tempo was slow at first; tantalizing, nearly torturous. But once he starts moving faster, pumping even harder and reaching that sweet, sweet spot of hers, she begins to pant wildly as she fucks herself on his hand to get more friction.

“Holy shit, you’re a goddess,” he croaks after pulling back to study the needy woman looking back at him through half-lidded eyes. V is tight around his fingers, and he could only imagine how it would be like with his cock buried deep inside her instead.

Each rough stroke of Johnny’s digits against her wet walls brought V closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, her moans increasing in both volume and frequency. He urges her to let go, whispering into her ear how he wants to see and feel her coming. The gruffness in his tone turned her on even more, and V soon finds herself falling over the precipice, flushing hot with euphoria as Johnny watches, awestruck.

Satisfied, he beams at his work, which was only half of what he intends to do this evening. Being gracious, Johnny gives V an ample minute to recover, using the downtime to wipe the glistening wetness coating his beard before tasting the juices he’s collected.

Delicious, he thinks. She tastes as good as she looks.

V eventually comes back to her senses, propping herself up on her elbows as she gazes at Johnny with an almost dazed expression. “Perhaps the rumors are actually true.”

“Which one?” Silverhand asks, ridding himself of his clothes at the foot of her bed.

V pauses prior to answering, the sound of metal clinking filling the air as he unbuckles his belt, stripping off his leather pants afterwards.

“That you’re the best pussy eater in town,” she then reveals, glancing up briefly to see the smug look on his face before her gaze falls to his groin again.

Of course, Johnny chooses to go commando, and no, she wasn’t shocked at all.  

Silently, she marvels at the dick nestled in a thick bush of dark hair. Girthy and long with a slight curve upwards, the thought of it being inside her, barely fitting, made her mouth water. He wasn’t lying when he casually mentioned having an impressive cock.

It definitely did not disappoint.

“Oh sweetheart, that was nothing,” Johnny declares before climbing back on top of V, settling in between her legs. “The main act is just beginning.”

She doesn’t wait for Johnny to kiss her. In an instant, V’s lips were on his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, faintly tasting herself at the same time. Meanwhile, Johnny grips the base of his leaking cock, rubbing its engorged head against her slick folds that had her breathing heavily. V cants her hips impatiently, and through their kiss, he chuckles at her eagerness.

“So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” Johnny husks mockingly. “How badly do you want me, slut? I wanna hear you say it.”

A moan escapes her throat at his words as he rubs his tip against her clit. V wants him so, so bad that she’s begging incessantly, something she never does in any of her past fucks. Usually, she was in complete control, never the one to relinquish her power.

Maybe that was the reason why V was utterly drunk with pleasure from this steamy session with Johnny. It’s good not to be in control for once.

“Shit, Johnny. Please, just fuck me already. Fill me up,” V pleads, now helpless at this point. She has to come again, this time around his cock. She repeats her keening over and over again, hoping that it was enough to feed into Johnny’s ego and finally show her mercy.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Tugging at his cock, Johnny forces V’s legs to spread wider as she waits for him, mesmerized. Her pussy was soaked from his ministrations, but when he starts pushing into V, the burning stretch of her walls trying to accommodate his thick length leaves her in tears.

Those tears, however, weren’t entirely from the pain. V was also shedding tears because of how full Johnny makes her feel.

“Fucking hell, V,” he groans as she clamps down on him. “You’re so fucking tight. Damn, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“We were too busy pretending to hate each other,” V replies, digging her nails into Johnny’s back when he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow but rough— as if he’s getting accustomed to the wondrous feeling of being inside of V. It doesn’t last long, though. Johnny has always been a hard and fast kind of guy, the one that does two or three more rounds before passing out. He’s bragged about his amazing stamina as well, and despite V believing she could match it, she probably won’t be able to tonight.

Not when he’s fucking her into the mattress like this for their very first time together.

Johnny’s brutal pace doesn’t falter. He pounds into V harder, faster, rougher; as if his life depends on it, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh bouncing off every corner of the room. His slick pre-come mixes with her honeyed essence, allowing him to seamlessly reach the depths of her center. Sweat drips down the side of his face as he maneuvers his mechanical hand to wrap around V’s delicate neck, adding pressure when she doesn’t resist.

“That’s it, baby,” Johnny growls next to her ear, rolling his hips as he squeezes her throat tighter. “You’re making me feel so good. I’ve always known you were a dirty whore.”

V’s gasping and thrashing, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She loves the rush of blood through her head far too much, especially with Johnny slamming harshly into her. It gives her a thrill she has never experienced with anyone else. Pretty sure he’s ruining her for others.

But whether this was part of his intentions or not, V doesn’t know. Nor she cares enough to figure it out.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, V. Look at you, taking all of my cock like the fucking slut you are. You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? You practically dream about me every night, and don’t you deny it.”

She doesn’t. Johnny was right, though it doesn’t really matter at this very second. His hold on V loosens for her to speak, and she inhales as much air her lungs could possibly take. She could feel it again, the ultimate high she’s been chasing once more. Johnny’s shaft dragging against her pulsing walls brings her even closer to it, building up the pleasure rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I-I’m close,” V warns, the pressure inside her threatening to break free. “Shit, Johnny, I’m gonna come soon.”

Johnny’s hips jerked harder, causing V to cry out. “Yeah? You’re gonna come? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure you come on my cock.”

Halting, he drapes her left leg over his shoulder, allowing him to slide in deeper than he has before. Johnny then pushes his metallic thumb into V’s mouth, and without prompt, she swirls her tongue around it, coating it with her saliva. Not missing a beat, his movement resumes, all bruising and all punishing. He brings his wetted finger on her sensitive pearl, stroking it as if he’s playing his guitar on stage.

The change in angle proves to be the final straw for V, who’s litany of high-pitch moans spurs Johnny to fuck her even more forcefully. Again and again, she takes everything he gives her, and in turn, she encourages him to follow her into the abyss. Her pussy caresses his cock with every frantic push and pull, and she notices how he’s gradually picking up speed, losing his rhythm in the process.

“Your cunt belongs to mine now,” Johnny mutters, gritting his teeth, and it’s becoming clear to V that he’s holding back just for her. “Come on, V. Let go, let go for me.”

Lust-blown eyes lock with V’s own, wordlessly urging her one last time to come undone. Several sharp thrusts later, she finds herself clenching around Johnny’s cock, her orgasm shooting through her like a rain of bullets. Unabashedly, V shouts as her vision whitens, intense waves of ecstasy washing over her shaking body. She’s too absorbed in bliss to realize right away that Johnny was still in her, dick hard and ready for a similar release.

Once she finds her bearings, V grinds her hips against Johnny’s, and immediately, his nails dig into her as he begins to move inside her yet again.

“Don’t stop, Johnny,” she purrs, watching him fuck her with both fast and long strokes. “I want you to cum deep inside me, baby. Shit, I want it so badly. Please, give it to me. Please…”

With a strained moan, Johnny suddenly climaxes, snarling as he shoots searing ropes of his thick, creamy cum into V, painting her inner walls with white. His features contort with pleasure as he throws his head back, his breathing shallow and ragged. When his heart rate returns somewhat back to normal, he slowly pulls his softening cock out, smirking at the sight of his load dripping out of her.

Afterwards, he flops down beside V with a huff, joining her as she stares blankly up at the ceiling. Johnny clears his throat as he shifts closer to V, who instinctively rests her head on his chest. His cyber arm curls around her, and she sighs deeply, seemingly content.

“How about that for a fucking distraction?” He says, recalling how the two of them got here in the place. “Don’t even have to go on a ride to clear your mind. Feel free to ride me instead.”

V laughs at his jest. “It was a great fuck, the best one I’ve ever had if I’m honest. But I’m still going after Cruz.”

Johnny hums in response, seeing V’s weary eyes growing heavier. “Fine, but just to let you know, what happened between us isn’t a one-time thing.”

“Fuck, I hope not. You’re stuck with me till the end of the world, buddy.”

“It’s a good thing you have an amazing pussy then.”

V smacks him lightly as exhaustion begins to take over. Sure, she was still pissed she didn’t get her eddies, but at least now she knows the prick named Johnny Silverhand was surprisingly a cuddler.

And that piece of information was worth gold.

Permanent Tags:   @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein​ @unaspiringwritings​ @planetkt​ @breakthenight​ @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hi! So I would like to request a Seb x reader one shot if you have the time ☺️ I just got diagnosed with Endometriosis today and am in need of some soft Seb... Could you write smth where Seb finds out that reader is always in pain during sex and never said anything, though he knows she has Endometriosis and usually cares for her during her period... and he then encourages her to get surgery to try and fix it? Only if it's okay though, I know it's very precise, sorry!

A/N; I am so sorry to hear about this hun, i hope there’s something that can be done, no one deserves to go through that kind of pain. I researched endometriosis and it certainly sounds horrible, I’m sending you all my love and support 💙

Endometriosis - Sebastian Stan x reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request, I changed it a tiny bit so I hope that’s okay, I just feel like if r was in pain seb would notice, I hope you like it hun 🤍

Warnings; endometriosis, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, mentions of sex toys, illness, mention of alcohol, fluff, pain, swearing

divider by @firefly-graphics

It hurt like a bitch, there was no way to put it, or at least it was a simpler revelation of description at the prying of your womb had you near to tears. You laid your head down into the pillow, mushing it into the fabric, as you wanted the pain to dwindle down into nothing, and thus you tried to ignore your own suffering, as you turned over to be on your back, severely wincing by the change in position. A groan came from the other side of the bed, as the man that was laid there began to shuffle, in the midst of waking up.

“Morning.” He spoke with a hoarse voice, the steadiness obliterated by his blatant hangover that was haunting his form. Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fully awoke, stretching his back as he reached his arm out, swiftly hooking it around the back of your neck as you allowed yourself to lay on the muscle. “Guess neither of us got laid, did we?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head, as he tipped his chin up, blinking his baby blues up to the ceiling.

“Considering that we’re in the same bed, and that you’re not a stranger to me, I guess not.” You laughed to your close friend, whom was aware of your condition, but not the extent of it. “Looks like you’re going to suffer from no morning sex Stan, I’m sure that sucks for you.”

“Usually it’s someone else doing the sucking.” You smacked his arm at his off handed comment, pulling a smirk out from the man as he turned to face you, pulling you closer by the contact that he had upon you. “I’m guessing your disappointed that you’re not waking up to some muscular, blonde haired and blue eyes patriotic punk.”

“If you’re describing Evans, i swear that I will punch you in the dick, I said he was attractive once.” You put emphasis on the amount of time(s) you had ever mentioned it. A pout quivered his lips, as he shuffled beneath the covers, angling his hips in a more comfortable position so that they weren’t being crunched down on the mattress.

“You can punch my dick, on the agreement that you kiss it better.” Seb allowed a hollow smirk to mull over his handsome features, as you swatted his bicep once more, an unhumored frown conforming its position upon your face.

“I’m not one of your hook ups, I’m not gonna get on my knees for you buddy.” You bantered back, raising a brow at his inquisition. No, you were not a past sexual partner of his; it was a constant of him never having a serious relationship, he opted for flings rather than any long engagements, you suspected that he had feelings for someone else, but you were not sure of whom.

The thought alone of him being endeared with the image of one woman brought a pain to your body, separate from your medical suffering. Though your opinion wasn’t fair, considering that you as well, or had your time of sleeping around before the pain in your inner walls became too much, and that was one of the many things that you had given up, more or less.

To support the montage of your body’s self torture, you had a mixture of hormone and tablets that helped reduce the unexplainable sensation that willed around in your lower half, swarming around like an internal snake bite in your own body.

“69 then?” He joked, but it felt so serious. You knew he wasn’t being truthful, it was the relationship the pair of you had, though his face had moved closer, his breath fanning over your face, making your heart prominently race as you thought about such a scenario. “Having mentioned Evans...” he began to change the conversation, having felt the heat that had radiated from your body.

“Go on.” You pried at him, interested in hearing what his friend had opted to say about the pair of you. It wasn't every day that you heard celebrities gossiping about you.

“He thinks we’ve hooked up.” Sebastian stated, making your neck reel slightly back as you took in the fact, of well, the perceived view point of a world renowned, household name, actor. A part of you was slightly embarrassed, you held your own cheek as the words that Chris had passed on sunk in on you.

“We, no, never. Okay, I’m exaggerating, that would not be so bad, but it would definitely be weird. But like, why does he think that, of all things?” You asked whilst partially laughing. It made you partially aware of yourself, and the prospect of you possibly having made your feelings obvious, but that however hadn’t been the case as Seb scratched over the stubble that he had on his chin, and did that awkward Bucky smile that had became humorous in his new marvel show.

“Of all things; it’s like you’re trying to break my heart babes.” With one diverging look from you, he knew he was done for. It always pained him to keep secrets from you, and this was the one that he had been hiding for so long. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I still can’t believe that you haven’t caught on, after all this time, but this just shows that you haven’t noticed how I try and scare away every guy with my money and power.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Lightly you scoffed, having many memories of such a situation. It was a pattern that kept repeating itself, but to you it had just become normal, and to say you were fine with it was not incorrect. It gave you hope that he could reciprocate the emotions that you held towards him, though having a wish like that was altogether hopeless. He was just protective, that was all, he probably saw you like a little sister, or something of the sort, that really put a drab annotation on the prospect of romance.

“Ever wonder why?” Ever, more like all the time, but you allowed him to continue without disruption, by doing so more would be unveiled by that mouth of his, and you were eager to learn more, yet a little hesitant. “It is because I am so tired of being your friend, I love it, don’t get me wrong but...” you were dreading what was to come out of his mouth next, you squeezed your eyes shut, almost as if you were unable to see, the pain would not render upon your specimen. “I love you.”

“You what?!” Eyes snapping open, you were blatantly shocked by his confession. “That can’t be right Seb, you’re you, and I’m me, and-“

“We’re us.” He finished for you. As he noticed you relax from his contingence, which allowed him the time gap to slide closer, his warm and soft hand running up the side of your face as he watched you gasp from the sensation. It was not the first time he had touched your cheek, but it was the first instance in which he done so intimately; you were rather fond of the treatment.

You nuzzled your face into the curve of his hand, your brows lightly directed in a downwards motion as you lulled in his touch, and that was when you realised that he had frozen. “Shit.” You stopped him from moving away, pausing the sadness in his eyes for the current second. “I should have responded, that was my bad. I love you too, I’m not just saying that, so you know.”

“That’s a relief.” Sebastian sighed, falling back onto the mattress, bringing his face accidentally closer to your own. The tips of your noses were touching as your eyes ogled deep within the pools of one another’s, it was impossible not to seek a closer vicinity, and thus, you slunk closer, bracing the tips of your nails against his scruff, as your lips worked their way onto his.

“How would you like another kind of relief?” You pulled away, stroking down the smooth course of his shirt covered chest, prompting a suggestive dialogue in your tone. His brow raised as he thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered a rather distinctive matter he didn’t want to cause any obstruction to.

“What about your, you know?” He was referring to your endometriosis, having the knowledge about the unfortunate illness that interfered with your life. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the encouraging you to take your medication on days that you weren’t feeling particularly well, he was there. Now it made sense why.

To reply, you softly shook your head, combing your hands over his shoulders, as you answered him. “If it gets too much, I’ll give you the signal.” You spoke, leaning down to peck his lips, though you still saw the reluctance that was embedded on his forehead in the form of strict lines. “I promise.” You persuaded him, meaning the sentiment, as his eyes trailed down, his hand scourging a fierce, passionate grip upon your hipbone as his tongue weaved its way back into your mouth.

You moaned into the atmosphere of his mouth, grabbing onto his cheeks as you heaved breaths into the internal beyond of this man, rolling on top of him, as you swept your crotch down against his own, extracting a sinister sound out of his guttural throat. It was only turning you on more, and you knew that if you didn’t do something, even despite the recommendations of your doctor, you would be sufficed with a lack of pleasure, and that was all you currently craved.

It wasn’t fair how you had been dubbed with the condition. So many people in the world could have sex whenever they pleased, yet you were forced to commend under the sentence of experiencing a discomfort when all you wanted was the comfort of being intwined with another human being. That connection, it felt mandatory, however you were denied it, for every time that you proceeded to bed a stranger, or a partner of any sorts, the stretch of anything in your walls pursued you with a fracture of pain.

You’d even had to throw out your vibrator, whilst it felt good on the outside, the clenching of your empty walls sparked physical and mental hurt, and reminded you of the fact that whenever you were filled by any length, your body could not function to emit pleasure, instead it was the opposite that you were tasked with contracting. The thought and reminder often spewed tears in your eyes, but you held them back as you got lost in Sebastian.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted sentimentally, and your heart both became full and broken. It was sweet and scorching to the arousal between your legs to know that he was that concerned about your well being; he wasn’t just prioritising getting his dick wet. He resumed pressing succulent kisses on your lips, he lulled in the notion, he too wanted to be close to you, but he wasn’t willing to do inadvertently so to the expense of you being in pain.

That was the opposite of what he wanted, even as your hand wandered down his firm and pheromone driven body, that bucked in your grip, as your hand hooked around his bulge, your thumb stroking over his round sack as he grew beneath the layers of his soft sweats and underwear. “69 then?” You reiterated his earlier words, causing his pupils to blow wide, and his blue irises to darken into the juxtaposition of stormy skies.

“Will that be okay?” You confirmed it was, even if you weren’t completely sure yourself. The angles, the penetration, it was all elements, that combined gave you an equation that you had yet to figure out. The only way to do so was to try it, even if it concluded in an error, and not a sensible answer. To instigate the next step, you roused your sleep shirt from your body, leaving you in nothing more than your causal panties, but Seb didn’t seem to mind.

In fact he rather preferred the normalcy of your actions and undress, it made the strategy of shifting from friends to intimate lovers into one of relaxation, there was no absurdity nor discomfort yet, for either one of you. Your fingers dipped in the sides of your underwear, teasing the band, as you cocked your head towards Seb, licking your lips as you took in the view of him entranced by your being. “Am I going to be the one naked or...”

You were grateful that he took the hint, and stripped himself from both layers that kept his goods confined. He rapidly removed them, leaving his uncut cock open to your gaze; it wasn’t anything massive which was a relief, but it for now, it was to be attained in the confinement of your mouth, rather than the realm of your cunt, so that slight stretch could await. As you thought of that, you reached your hand out, dancing your fingers lightly over his shaft.

Seb emitted a soft huff from his obtainable lips, he dragged you to be laying atop of him, as your thighs surrounded his length on either side, it was warm, and rested perfectly below your where your cunt was hovering. How you wished to just sink down on it and- “Turn around.” For a moment you took time to refrain your memory to perceive what you had said before. And then, whence your words caught up to you, it was simple to do so, especially with the motivation of what was going to happen.

As you spun around, to be facing his lower half and have your own above his mouth, you watched his cock twitch, as it rested heavily upon his abdomen. You could feel your nerves kick in; it was a substantial difference from anything that you had ever done together, from looking at the stars and watching cheesy movies, to sexual actions, it was quite the leap. But a welcome one, you had waited so long to acknowledge your feelings to him, you'd be damned if you were not going to act on them.

A shiver rippled up your spine as he paved a lick through your slit, it made you tense up for a moment, and you try to register any diagnosis of pain, you coiled when he put one of your lips in his mouth. It felt good, which was a relief, and you took that as a sign to reap your front forwards, and focus on his throbbing hardness that was oozing precum against his perfect skin. The drop of essence looked like liquid moonstone, catching the ambience of the snooping sun that eyes through the crescent opening of the closed curtains, creating a luminescent light against the contrast of his skin.

Leaning forwards, as the initial shock of Seb using his tongue on you had settled in, as a faint plea from inside of you derived away in your eternal being, your tongue glided over the patch of fallen precum, your eyes fluttering at the heavenly, yet rare taste, it wasn’t every day that a man’s cum was relatively nice on your buds. Some perceived eating junk food as a lifestyle, caring not for how the receiver of their sperm would taste within the mouth of a giver on the other end. Sebastian hummed against your slick folds, as he danced his hands around your ass, grasping your cheeks firmly.

His fingers swept through the outside of your cunt, fooling around with your labia as his tongue swirled your bud, making your face grimace on the edge of pleasure, as your warm lips wrapped around the head of his cock, whirling your tongue within his slit, as your hand rested around the rest of his length, jerking it in your grasp, as his hips lightly heaved upwards against your face. He teased a finger around your entrance, running the tip along the wet flesh that mimicked your breaths as it clenched prosperously.

“Shit!” Tears webbed in your eyes as he entered the finger, though he considered that a resonating profanity of pleasure. To your dismay, it indeed was not though, the entry of the digit weighed heavy inside you, prying sorely against your walls as your giving to him paused, as you harshly gripped his thigh. “Shit, that hurts Seb. Fuck!” In an instant, he stopped, extracting his finger out from within you, as it caused you further pain, and helped you turn around, and lay languidly upon the bed.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m so sorry y/n/n.” He panicked, immense guilt wavering his body, as he grasped your face, staring with sorrow into your seasoned expression. “I didn’t mean to- didn’t want to hurt you, shit, I should never have tried to-“ soothing his conflicting emotions, you stroked his shoulders, kissing him to ease his words into silence. He felt guilty, but so did you, you were the one whom had encouraged to pursue the rhythm of your shared sexuality to one another, deducting the poise of your actions with tear beaded eyes.

“It was my fault; I said it would be fine. I should have known it shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” You reasoned with him, knowing that you had told him that it was to be something that you could manage, but from experience, you should have had better knowledge of how things would turn out.

“Don’t you ever apologise, you’re perfect, the only thing that I want to ease is your suffering. Is there any news on the operation that can be done, should I get you your medication now?” He wanted to be certain, to ensure that you didn’t put the accountability of your situation completely on yourself, he should have asked if a finger would have been fine, he shouldn’t have been swayed by your persuasion. “I could talk to someone, see if I could get the thing moved up, I can pay for it, get you further up on the ladder.”

“No.” You smiled, pressing an ample kiss upon his scruffy cheek. “I don’t want that, many other people are waiting for the op too, and I can’t have you paying for it. That would just be inconsiderate of me, you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask more. You’ve been there through everything, just wait with me whilst I wait for myself.” You pulled the sheets over your breasts, staring opulently into his serene eyes, shuddering as he swept his lips over your mouth once more, deriving you breathless for a moment.

“It’s okay to be selfish, if any of them had that chance, then they would take it. I can afford it, and I would want nothing more than to pay for it, it’s not just about sex, you know that. I love you so so much, you’re my best friend, the girl of my dreams, I’ve waited for you, I just want the pain that you live through to disappear. Out of all people, it’s not fair that it’s you, but it is, and this is the one way to fix the reductive searing of hurt that you live through.” You gulped, water glazing your irises as you stared at her, trying to diffuse your light sob.

His words brought acceptance to you within the scenario, as you took a deep breath in, confronting the trigger that had set off inside of you. It was difficult to handle and attain to, as you curled in his bare arms, exasperating your soundness close to him, as he competently cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Okay.” You agreed, nodding sincerely along with your words. “Okay, I’ll do it for me. It’s the right thing to do.” A smile raved his face, as you convinced yourself of doing so. It was to be a long road, but Sebastian would be there holding your hand, travelling down this path alongside you.

[sly-merlin]

You look hot in maroon

Characters : ceo! yuta + head designer fiancé reader

Words:1.6k

Genre: fluff, romance, smut

Smut warnings: office sex, teasing(lots of), dom!yuta, dom!reader(tongue kiss dominancy), unprotected sex(no need to be so pro irl).

Music :alone with you- ashlee (it’s h o t like in H O T)

A/n : happy birthday Amira darling. Here’s spicy yuta for you. (how does it feel to be of the same age as jaehyun and having more brain cells the fraty would ever have!) @aiyu-ssn

Beta read by @ncteaxhoe agr tum na hote toh kyaa hota humara inni!!

If living with yuta was an arduous task then working with him was undoubtedly insufferable. The man knew no manners and just loved crossing all the boundaries of an employee-employer relationship.

Just like right now. Moving away from the presentation, you modelled towards the center table where all the board directors sat. When yuta had promised you that he’d help you in your first presentation, you had assumed he was going to make sure nobody went hard on you or maybe politely correct your mistakes saving you from embarrassment but never once in his talk had you heard the mention of a foot.

The naked foot that he was brushing against your ankle whenever you travelled back to the table for adding a new edit another director suggested. If their interruptions were not annoying enough, yuta had joined them too, he just forgot he wasn’t at home.

You were concentrating on your backlit keyboard when you felt it again.your breath hitched and you inhaled sharply as yuta’s naked feet fondled with the straps of your heels, the mischievous act covered by the large table. Your eyes floated over the management team to examine their judging stares but it looked like the air around them didn't let them smell past their envy for your new promotion. Glancing away from them, you tried to step away from yuta but before you could do so, the digits of his foot teasingly journeyed up your loose pants, gently caressing against the side of your calf. Furiously clicking your finger on the laptop, you somehow managed to free yourself from him but just when you turned, something tugged on your pants making you freeze on the spot.

“Let’s hurry up ms.l/n. We need to start on the second presentation as well.”

Your shoulders tensed up immediately as you caught yuta’s professional gaze through your peripheral vision.

“Yes ms. Y/n. We have to decide the new interior as well.” he said plainly but you grasped the smirk humming in those words. Rolling your eyes, you dropped the monitor controller onto the floor, the resounding noise securing you looks of disapproval but you couldn’t care any less about them.

Muttering an apology, you crouched down and instead of picking up the controller, you pleadingly joined your hands, knowing yuta was the only one in your view, hoping for some mercy from him. a cough was heard and he retracted his feet and rolled his chair under the table..

“let's finish this. I’m feeling hungry”

Shaking your head, you composed yourself before explaining the remaining presentation.

“What the fuck were you doing there yuta?” slamming the office door shut, you whisper screamed.

With an intoxicate smile, he met you halfway and wrapping his arms around your waist, he dipped you, stealing a kiss.

“you look so hot in maroon, baby. You did great today.”

Pushing him away, crossing your arms, you sternly asked him,

“bitch you almost sabotaged my first presentation. Everyone must be questioning your decision of promoting me! They already thought you were favouring me because I’m yo-

“because you are the love of my life? Let them be. Had they worked any harder, they would have been standing in your position but alas!”

picking on your lower lip, you averted your eyes, hiding the effect his words always had on you.

“what was the need to annoy me though? why do you have to be so reckless all the time?”

“You were so tense baby! I was just trying to ease your nerves.” gasping, he continued, “and look at your ungrateful ass! Why do you always treat me like I mean nothing to you.”

“tsk tsk. So sad yuta! I’m ungrateful? Fine bitch.” Winking and blowing him a kiss, you backed him, dismissing his hand reaching out for you. “take your words back if you want to enter the bedroom tonight or you can say goodbye to your dinner!"

"Fine." He said, matching your backwards steps with his further ones. "But can i have my lunch at least?"

You were familiar with that particular sparkle in his eyes. Roguish one.

One stride back and he had you detained against the door. His fingers played with your jaw, his other hand fumbled with the door locks and his lust filled eyes wandered over your whole face, locking your stare. Just when his both hands found the curves of your waist and he leaped in, your palm met his lips in a soft smack.

“ouch! Is your lunch yummy boss?” you giggled. In an instant, he pinned your arm against your waist, hovering right above his zipper.

“stop playing baby. We don’t have too much time to spare.”

Finally diving in, he bit your upper lip earning a satisfactory whine from you. his grip on your hand loosened when he lost himself in your wine coloured lips, leaving you with the hard decision of finding a new home to position them. as much as you wanted to palm his hardening dick, your fingers mechanically gripped the back of his hair in a tightening hold.

Lips dancing harmoniously, you both forgot about the world that resided just outside the door. Your tongue praised the edge of his moisturised lip just the way he loved it and the sinful smile that you felt reassured you of your ministrations. He let you slide your tongue in and his body squirmed with yours when he tried to trap you impossibly closer in his arms. The fact that he was a sucker for your domineering kisses needed no evidence. The deep groans that met your ear were inebriating as he readily reduced himself to a plaything for your lips. a mean chuckle boomed and you pushed your tongue into his mouth leaving no space for breathing.

Your chest shamelessly heaved up and down as you slowly pulled your tongue out while ravishing all of him, finally stopping at his lips and giving his fuller lips an open mouth kiss, apologising for ignoring them earlier. Plucking away, you both inhaled each other for a few more seconds before he susurrated,

“fuck y/n. nobody can kiss like you”

His complement flattened you. Attaching your lips to his, you pushed him slightly and taking the hint without much telling, he let you shove him back towards his desk. And that's when you knew you had to stop.

He removed your blazer and worked on your shirt, you unzipped his crisp white pants. Soon, your nails were drawing meaningful circles on his naked torso as he stared at your lingerie with a hungry gaze. Hurriedly placing his laptop aside, the only device resting on his table, he had lain you on the wide desk. He placed your one heeled foot on the wheeling chair and wrapped the other around his clothed waist for your comfort.

"Don't want me to ride the shit out of you pretty boy?" Teasingly, you queried as your hand touched just the waistband of his underwear.

"That's for dinner darling." With that, his plump lips latched themselves into your sensitive neck. Your moans got louder as you felt the wetness of his mouthed kisses around your collarbones. Eager for some release, you jerked yourself forward in hope of finding some touch but the only thing you got was a cruel chortle.

"Just a minute baby."

And the very next second, his dick was aligned to your opened entrance. Perhaps he had realised the demand of the situation you were both in. Or he was just dying to relish. As he thrusted in, the chair rolled a bit to the left stretching your thighs more than you would have liked but yuta's hold kept you in place. He slowly pulled out once only to toss himself in again. His leisurely pace was painful and you cried out for him to go faster. Leaning in, he groaned in your ear before sucking harshly at the ample of your breast. The lacy bra did nothing but drove him crazy for your raw side.

"Touch yourself"

And you did. Your fingers were fondling with your clothed breasts when the view provoked him into finishing faster than he had intended. He fluidly entered, penetrating your hole at a pace you would never get used to and your body shivered under him as sighs of content and help escaped your throat.

"No one's prettier than my baby."

His own groans, mingled with your desperate ones, permeated the room with sounds of love and lust. After a few more deep and violent pushes, he filled you up with his cum but that didn't stop him for the unselfish lover he was, he moved his sensitive dick into you once again making you scream his name in pleasure.

"Fuck yuta!" Your back arched and your thighs shook under the weight of his delicate fingertips and hammering cock, and soon you laid undone under him, spilling your juices onto the edges of his Mahogany desk. Eyes closed, you let your hands finally rest on your stomach, legs waiting to be put down, heart beating like it was your first encounter with your lover. Maybe it was just yuta. You were always attached to each other yet always had so much to share.

"Am i forgiven madam?" He breathed near your ear.

"You are a bitch yuta." You jested.

"Only for you."

"Liar."

"That too only for you baby!"

And you both forgot about the army of directors that stood outside for approvals,left there with unsigned papers and something unwarranted in their pants.

[maiaphaelsource]

I was the anon who sent you the trans Raphael headcanons ask on your other blog, do you have any more? With some trans Maia thrown in too🥺 like Magnus being the best trans dad to his son and the love of his sons life and being supportive and loving. Raphael kissing Maia on the forehead and telling her how beautiful she is, you know? Cute shit like that

yes!!! hello!!! i hope you know i love you and you're my favorite person in the world!! thank you so much for this ask!

okay so i’ll begin with the specifics... magnus is absolutely THE trans dad to both of them. not only with practical stuff like offering to help them with glamours, magical transitioning, stuff like that, but just... being so supportive and understanding. he’s always there, and he has so many stories to share, so many people he’s met who had happy lives. he was there for stonewall, he’s met Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, and it’s just so heartwarming for the both of them to talk to him about that, you know? that feeling of not being alone in history, of knowing that there are and were other people like you, that you’ve always existed.... it’s just great

also in maia’s case since she also lives a partially mundane life he just solves all her documentation problems like deadname? gone forever. no registers. you’re welcome. the first time maia sees her document with her name she almost cries and she throws herself in magnus’ arms and magnus is so touched and moved and shocked you know? like the gratitude and the affection and she’s just thanking him and he’s so moved and raphael just watches with a little smile in his face because he knows that magnus is moved by the display, even if he won’t say it. and maybe he tells magnus that later? like, “your kindness means more to others than you imagine,” and of course magnus isn’t important just because he’s kind but he’s used to not being recognized for his services (ahem especially by CERTAIN people) and it’s nice to see that being appreciated, you know?

plus, maia makes it a point to pay him and magnus is all like “i couldn’t possibly take payment for something like that. it’s the least you deserve” so instead maia teaches him her secret sangria recipe. magnus is super pleased but he also jokes that now he has one less excuse for inviting them over. and raphael goes, super seriously, “you never need an excuse” and magnus just melts 

raphael kissing her forehead! yes! tbh i think they both love forehead kisses (as well as hand kisses and shoulder kisses) and sometimes when she’s feeling dysphoric or upset for any reason she likes just... lying down on raphael’s chest and letting him pet her hair and kiss her forehead and tell her that it’s alright, bella, te quiero

and YES he just makes it a point to talk about how beautiful she is constantly and kiss down her whole body (not sexually of course, just sweetly?) and she giggles and it’s fun :’) sometimes things get to her, especially after jordan’s constant transphobic/racist rethoric, and it’s nice that raphael always makes it a point to tell her she’s beautiful and amazing and he loves her. and he always does it in such a matter of fact way, but also intense, you know? he has her close and he says shit like “you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met” and she melts

as for general headcanons!

maia figured out she was trans relatively early in life, and it’s the reason she always knew she’d have to run away from her parents’ house. she was basically only planning until she had enough to be able to survive without them. but also, jordan and wanting to be able to “be with her already” rushed her out of home when she was finishing high school 

raphael and maia are absolutely willing to throw down for each other if someone’s transphobic and that’s that on that. someone being transphobic to raphael? fine, he can handle his own, he’ll end them with his words and do it with a pleasant smile. someone being transphobic to maia? they’ll be met with the usual cutting sarcasm until they back down. but if the other catches you doing that? you’ll be thrown against the wall and threatened/punched in the face so fast you won’t even know what the fuck happened 

a lot of baby trans downworlders start coming to them! they’re already an iconic couple for many reasons, what with being a werewolf/vampire couple, a black/latino couple (we need more black/latino couples okay! desperately! and black/native and native/latino too! i want more poc solidarity and romance!), and an iconique trans couple. people just feel comfortable going to them because they’ve brought so much change and are so accepting you know? 

it still surprises raphael, even after years on end, that so many people come to him for help with that. he never thought that he would be seen as the kind of person people can go to, and yet here he is. after being told for most of his life that he was cold/unfeeling/threatening/weird... it’s nice to be valued like that, to be seen as someone who can be soft and provide comfort and love, too

same goes for maia, who’s also used to be seen as agressive/violent for just defending herself and her people, and just generally reduced to being a “threat”. it’s nice to know that many, many people see her as someone they can look up to, and who they feel safe it

that is not to say obviously that they just love doing emotional labor for other people but like... having other trans downworlders, especially trans downworlders of color, come to them, feels nice. especially people who are trying to figure themselves out and approach them with so much hope and admiration in their eyes you know? the way they always come with a “sorry to bother, but..” ready in their lips and look at them like they are heroes... it’s really something

taki’s slowly becomes a place for trans downworlders to hang out, especially those who don’t enjoy clubs and stuff like pandemonium (which is totally a queer club as well bite me. including for mundanes. with taki’s that’s trickier of course since they have like, blood on their menu lmao but a few trans minors have hung out there and it was cool) for whatever reason. it’s just a cool queer-inclusive space for people who want to hang out, you know? and they love that

the first time maia saw raphael lose his cool was when a shadowhunter made a gross comment about how it’s lucky he didn’t want sex, so she wouldn’t have to deal with that. he almost tore their throat off

raphael just.... loves maia’s shoulders. she was a little self conscious of them, she always made a point to have them covered, but raphael just loves peppering kisses on her shoulders and making her chuckle 

magnus gives maia a bunch of fashion tips similar to the ones he gave raphael, just how to better protect herself and figure out how people are reading her gender and stuff like that, you know?

they do the thing where they show each other pre-transition pics (once they’re comfortable with that of course) just to hear each other be like “*outraged gasp* i don’t recognize you at all” and “oh, look how much happier you are now”, and my personal favorite, “i can’t see a boy/girl in there, i just can’t” (like personally whenever i see pictures of my partners/friends pre-transition i’m just like... i realize this is pre-transition and that you’ve changed a lot but also i’m unable to see an [assigned gender] in this photo). it’s all like “how did people not notice you were a girl? unbelievable” you know. just that sweet sweet trans couple validation ritual

together they have like. all the insufferable pun-happy sexualities (bi[romantic], pan, ace, trans) and you will be hit with those constantly in conversation if you’re a friend of them. raphael in particular greatly enjoys making those puns with the most blase, straight face as he looks straight into your eyes and watches as your soul slowly leaves your body. magnus is so proud and also afraid he created a monster

raphael is that bitch who’s like. “i heard that broccoli has a substance that’s similar to testosterone so i’m now eating 5 bowls of it” and maia wants to tear her hair out because it doesn’t work like that and he’s like “can’t hurt to try. also i’m finally able to eat let me have this” 

maia never got to like... celebrate those small transition moments because she was all alone and felt like she was transitioning in such a rush, you know? and raphael makes it a point to point out the small changes that are still going on with her body, to take her shopping and encourage her to be as giddy about it as she wants to, you know? and it’s nice and fun and he also gets to relive those small gender reaffirming moments and it’s really nice

maia is a huge against me fan!!! like not to project but it’s just... their songs are so great and relatable even when they’re not about being trans at all and laura jane grace’s voice is so beautiful and maia for sure absolutely loves punk, so like. it’s one of her fave bands for sure

she liked them since before laura came out and when she did it was like. oh. oh. so that’s why i always related so hard to her songs. it just... makes sense

while punk is not as much raphael’s style he likes true trans rebel, especially the acoustic version, where her voice just sounds mwaaahhh imo and he can listen to the recording for hours because her voice in there is just... sensorial heaven and maia feels all giddy that raphael genuinely loves a trans woman’s voice so much 

raphael always makes a point to say that he loves her voice just as much, too :)

they are just very trans and really love each other the end

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Lonely Paws

Genre: Smut, Cam boy AU, FWB AU, College/University AU

Pairing: Cam boy!Namjoon x Reader

Warning: sub!Namjoon, male masturbation, impregnation kink, Namjoon is bad at sex, pet play (wolf pup play... ah dinnae ken, is that a thing?), sweater paws, unrequited love, allusion to unsafe penetrative sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses!), exhibitionism, voyeurism, mild swearing/cussing

Summary: When a wolf pup carrying around a heart that is only sometimes loved is left alone, fantasy provided by the owner belonging to another forms a great escape to being appreciated.

Masterlist

Relationships are easily influenced occurrences, sometimes even so much so it is hardly possible to ascribe a certain status to it. Break-ups made undone only to become a steady rhythm of separation and reunion between two people, friendships flowing over into romance after bravely asking for a date yet acting so much so the same it makes one wonder when the connection deepened.

As became the case on the edge of the bed one night three years ago, tipsy on wine and whiskey but likely having ended up there anyway with the same wish even without booze. The same trust required to put into another for scary though rememberable first experiences, something we were not able to put into anyone but each other.

Sighing praise for wanton whimpers after tasting soft lips scented with grapes as bodies collided over and over, Y/N became the first woman to ever truly get exclusive attention despite the plethora of girls at high school and currently at university. Only her digits are allowed to run through ashy chocolate locks, caress round cheeks intentionally or without cause, wander lower and lower to stir up emotional storms that hold no significant meaning to anyone but a wisened spirit.

A mere sex buddy.

But, fortunately, also something of a more important nature.

Her pet wolf.

Because beneath a learned consciousness studying philosophy mainly out of pure interest but also due to not knowing what else to do, goes a persona seeking refuge in the ability to please others over digital highways while having a certain steady direction in the shape of a gorgeous owner.

As is the case during one’s youth, many new experiences are explored mostly out of curiosity and sometimes simply for shits and giggles. Porn is a discovery which combines the sentiments, the former becoming more and more dominant after filming a personal pleasurable session while continuously muttering the name of the wonderful woman who has put a boy in love in the friendzone and eventually putting it online afterwards. The desire to get to know the sensual field grew even more after seeing the positive comments, finding a sense of accomplishment in them.

Acknowledgement.

Something that has never followed the sex with Y/N, who always returns to Jisung, a young producer she met on a holiday in Malaysia. Thus, the strangely deep yet shallow friendship repeatedly ascends and descends, acquiring and losing statuses.

Fortunately, howbeit perversely and sadly, a form of recognition came one day during the cleaning of the bedroom in the house shared with six other men with whom a brotherhood has been established. Save to say, none of them knows what their trusted companion does as a job on the side to make ends meet. 

The pretty lady was cleaning under the bed when fingers traced out the fluffy shape of the recently acquired stone grey tail plug, which was gifted by a long-time viewer after proposing to try something new.

‘Uhm, Joon? What’s this?’ The toy in hand, the secret crush looked questionably at a mortified face caught in a war between Truth and Lie.

Choosing for the righteous side with a soft-spoken voice because it seemed the only way to save a precious unrequited love. ‘I- I can explain. Can we talk for a bit?’

And that is how the revelation of the weekly cam shows came to be, though the detail of doing it out of an urge to be seen as a lover was kept hidden and has been up till now.

 ‘So you do this as an extra source of income?’ This is all she was allowed to know. The truth, albeit the censored version. The familiar voice heard speaking in tones that should be preserved for the busy boyfriend yet were heard by a pup sounded questioning, although there was a weird preluding tone in it as well. 

‘Y- Yes. I hope it doesn’t-’ The attempt at gaining an estimate of the damage the information would inflict upon the sturdy friendship was cut short by a paradoxically misplaced inquiry. 

‘Who’s your biggest patron?’ A question that fully showed the identity of the strange emotion floating beneath the surface just a second earlier, hand clenching the freshly washed navy bedding as teeth gritted in curious animosity directed toward something unknown.

Or, rather, someone. 

Jealousy.

Y/N had actually turned emerald in envious despair.

Which was incredibly out of place for the love of a man for a gorgeous best friend had been unrequited until then. Until the sun sets in the west. However, failing to see that among the sheets the reality is different, fierce protest came against the then deemed absurd demeanour. ‘Does it matter? Y/N, it’s not as if we- ah!’

Out of the blue and as fast as lightning, a familiar small palm held many times while mindlessly fucking or on the rare occasion of genuine lovemaking - at least it was sincere for one party - enveloped denim heated with shameful images of what could be done with the discovered toy. Especially when surrendered to the woman who inherently belonged to another. ‘Nobody claims my wolf for themselves.’

‘Y- Your wolf?’ A slight squeeze awakened the submissive persona within that always surfaces when similar circumstances occur, reducing a baritone voice to needy whining. 

‘Yes, Joonie. Mine.’ A whimper fell from full stunned lips, paralyzed by the digits that had slipped past the rim of jeans and underwear to act upon the primal urges overtaking demeanour, enjoying the sensation of sinning soft skin encouraging release. A mischievous grin began to grow from the snarl on my new owner’s lovely face, continuing to contrastingly sweetly caress the right cheek before petting chocolate milk strands as the knot in the pit of the stomach kept building. ‘My beautiful honey wolf.’

‘Y- Yours.’ The acknowledgement was spoken in the broken manner which has always been a loved aspect of a boy in love and has never failed to make Y/N happy.

The priority of every pet.

Of every man loving their significant other.

To delight the person the heart belongs to. 

‘What’s that?’ Regardless of having heard it clearly, the statement allowing the enchanting mistress to claim full possession of a wolf boy wanted to be heard again if only for personal satisfaction.

The knowledge to be better than the biggest sponsor.

Because she was there first.

Always had been.

Always will be. 

‘I- I’m y- yours.’ It came out on a squeaky breath, the pooling heat below having grown painful and turned even more agonizing when being encouraged further. A kiss on the neck went paired with a careful lick, testing the waters to discover how much this alternative animalistic personality was truly liked despite every instinct urging to act and chase a release into blinding bliss. ‘Let m- me m- make you f- feel good.’

And it was liked. Very much so, judging by the firm grip on whimpering locks driven further to the edge by fingertips sneaking towards the most sensitive part and suggestive tone in the whisper that definitely changed the relationship. ‘Then put on your pretty tail, Joonie, and let’s see how good my wolf really can make me feel.’

Being driven too much to edge already, everything went blank when connecting unprotected after the swift disposal of clothes covering the lower body but not being allowed to recuperate before being forced into moving by the firm grip on the behind and thus left mewling in overstimulation.

However, it is the duty of a pet to satisfy its owner.

The duty of a wolf to satisfy its bitch.

So the warm orange afternoon carried on into lilac twilight, breathing laboured while trying to perform to the best of capability despite clumsy movements that at some point no longer were given feedback but gone along with and thin spurts of gratitude.

Luckily, the pretty owner did not seem to mind it just like the audience tuning in weekly to see a stuttering baby boy did not mind the transformation into a submissive wolf pup which is owned. In fact, it sparked encouraging perverse cooing alongside sincere comments about the innocent sweetness of the situation, praising loyalty and looks.

A bond that remains even when Y/N is absent, keeping up appearances of a normal friendship by readily agreeing to Jisung’s plan to go on a holiday together and thus basically forcing a pup to be left behind. Withal, the wonderful mistress has found a way to make her baby wolf remember who adopted it, who it should remain in service to despite a prolonged absence.

Everything is set up for tonight’s broadcast, the camera set up just at the right angle to capture any increase of sensual excitement illuminated by the few additional not too brightly shining ring lights kept out of the screen. The vague scent of peach hangs in the air among linen and figs, stemming from the liquid aid supporting the transformation from a man into a boy in unrequited love. Furry chocolate ears protrude from same-toned locks and match the fluffy tail gifted recently after visiting the hairdresser together to return from icy platinum to warm brown, quickly falling into sinful teasing - as has become a habit between us - whenever nobody was looking.

To complete the outfit or, rather, the lack of clothes, hands are buried in the oversized sleeves of the striped sweater that was also given as a present because I behaved so well.

No, not me.

The persona.

The pet within.

Indeed.

I.

Because I behaved and even trained to become a better lovable cub though the clumsiness shall never fade, no matter how many hours are spent on endeavours to improve performance. Notwithstanding, as long as nothing is said to indicate evident dissatisfaction, perhaps the way we are is the best despite being stationary.

Clearing the throat a few times to naturally fall into the cute demeanour concealed beneath a wise exterior, fingertips already slightly tease sensitive skin after pulling up an innocent picture of the beautiful woman turned into more than a friend. Slowly, sanity loses itself over the coy smile holding out a fork with a bite of homemade matcha cake, liking it only if she has made it. However, Reason can be prevented from getting completely lost in sensual limbo by stopping all movements before it starts to feel too incredible and fancy conjures an imitating spirit. 

A deep longing sigh escapes at the view on agitated desire, twitching with the need for more yet having to wait in unwanted refraining until tonight’s plan is put into motion. ‘Ok, here we go.’

For the last time, all equipment is checked as well as the connection to the streaming platform. All is well.

Time to begin.

‘H- Hey, everyone. I- It’s me, J- Joonie.’ As soon as the record button is pushed, the stuttering alternative personality who loves wearing oversized sweaters and knows only to obey in order to please takes over fully. ‘M- Mistress is a- away on a h- ho- holiday and I c- coul- couldn’t come with her.’

The first comments about what a shame it is and filled with wonder how Y/N, nicknamed Mistress for privacy reasons, could do such a thing start to flood the chat window. Seeing the pity makes a warm flush spread throughout that rises to caramel cheeks which are swiftly covered by a sweater paw as the other continues to hide the twitching longing beneath. ‘Th- Thank you for your k- kind words. I- It’s a- al- alright, though. My pre- pretty owner has l- left a m- me- message so I’ll re- remember who I belong t- to. It’ll b- be like she’s h- here.’

More viewer reactions, this time praising the adorable stutter and loyalty of a good wolf pup.

Appreciation.

Love.

All that the gorgeous best friend with benefits cannot fully give to the philosophical mind always walking on the sideline, close yet far away. Lies down on the other pillow in the two-person bed after ensuring the heart belonging to another is cherished despite not being owned outside of the agreed-upon relationship.

The lover is inherently and undeniably hers.

Both the man and the wolf.

I am Y/N’s.

‘L- Let’s have a l- look at wh- what Mistress sent.’ From the side, the silver iPhone protected by a transparent case decorated with pastel pink paw prints is retrieved and the messenger app opened, my beautiful owner’s last message being the video meant for tonight.

One hand is already firmly wrapped around hardened heated skin once the recording commences, trying to control the throbbing a little longer. Already sets a cheeky slow pace at the first second showing a beloved bare body of which every inch has been kissed, especially on the days when everything felt futile. 

Speeding up a bit when interest is perked by a fuchsia and twilight purple wolf dildo and the alabaster mess between spread thighs.

‘Joonie~‘ Ears perk up at being called by a familiar beloved voice, breathing accelerating and curiously tilting chocolate milk locks in anticipation of what will follow. ‘You’ve made quite a mess, haven’t you?’

A fake memory replays itself, repeating the moment of placing a wolf��s gratitude inside Mistress after tethering on the edge without being allowed to fall as nails etched beautiful long carmine trails over honey skin to mark territory. She looked more gorgeous than ever among the pale blue sheets, so much more wonderful than a common bitch.

And the mere thought of seeing it again fuels the growing and slowly becoming painful heat between muscled legs. 

‘I know you’re on your rut.’ Impatiently, the wanton hardened shape glides suggestively among the ivory sticky mess, wanting to act on primal desire again but also be a good pup and wait for consent. ‘And I wish I could be there to help you with it.’

‘B- But you a- are here, M- Mistress.’ The delirium already starts to take over fast as the pleasurable pace accelerates yet is not fast enough to completely lose control. The word would have to be given first for that to happen. A good pet waits and obeys, does not come undone before it is allowed. Nevertheless, that does not mean whimpering is not allowed. ‘Pl- Please, I wa- wanna fuck. Kn- Knot you.’

‘But let’s pretend I’m there with you.’

A familiar hand moves the artificial plaything, no, real heated sensual craving closer to where a thick unclear stream flows languidly to coat it in the fluid. ‘You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you? Rutting against my leg all day. Fucking needy.’

‘Y- Yeah.’ It could not be helped because to a barely human mind Mistress looked incredibly alluring and smelled so sweetly of summer figs. And a fortunate oversized clumsy cub was allowed to indulge in the temptation. ‘You l- look so pr- pretty.’

Feeling impatiently brave, an attempt is made at a bodily connection without being given explicit consent. However, the start is quickly nullified and punished with a firm squeeze below that coaxes out a whine hanging somewhere between pain and delight. ‘Bad boy. Did I say you could put your thick throbbing cock in?’

Lips purse into a pout, ears flat against the scalp as a fluffy chocolate milk tail hangs low, speaking softly in apology. ‘N- No. S- Sorry, Mistress.’

‘So impatient.’ Again, all that is allowed is agonizingly teasing gliding among the mess already made, restraint becoming harder and harder to maintain. ‘Not even wanting to do foreplay.’

Slender fingertips move to the most sensitive part which is swollen in agitated red bordering on plum, reducing speech to simple-minded whining not very shy of wanton sobbing. ‘B- But you, ah, d- don’t like th- that. Al- Always, mhm, use j- just lube.’

‘Are you getting desperate, Joonie? Leaking?’ The mischievous palm moves away to give attention to parts left in neglect, a pleased smirk on the mouth kissed many times before in the way it wants. ‘Shit, look at those veins, how thick you are. You’re a big boy.’

‘Y- Yes!’ The mere sliding continues, edging a gradually fleeting soul further to the edge of ignorant bliss. Henceforth, only simply repeating is practically all that is possible in the way of talking. ‘I- I’m a b- big boy.’

‘We’ll use your cum as lube, Joonie. Now- What a shame.’

Nonetheless, consciousness is kicked off into the abyss anyway.

A disappointed sigh obviously stresses the severity of the made mistake. ‘You really can’t behave, can you? Bad boy.’

Luckily, a floating mind can come down rapidly enough to offer sincere apologies for the misbehaviour, trying to nuzzle the neck to strengthen the show of remorse but being denied to do so. ‘I- I’m sorry, Mistress. I di- didn’t, n- no, w- w- wait! I- I’m sen- sensitive. P- Please. G- Give me a- a- ah!’ 

A novel assault on the part which is the utmost susceptible to touch quickens breathing to short shallow breaths, nerves being forced into overdrive by the hurtful overload of contact. ‘I thought you’d be better than this, but it appears I have to teach you manners again.’ A thumb presses hard against the angry reddened skin, tail swishing in sensual panic. ‘I don’t care if you can’t handle it, you’re going to put your dick inside me and keep going until your knot makes my stomach bulge with cum. So, be a good wolf and... and- fuck, Namjoon~’

Accepting the punishment like a good pet, ignoring the pain of overstimulated nerves, the bodily spell is established again after being helped in lining up. Clearly to the delight of my pretty owner, who hums in breathless satisfaction. ‘Fuck, I’m clenching your hard thick cock. Feel your knot already forming, pressing against my pussy.’

The connection is exploited as much as possible, reaching the point of utmost hypnosis when seeing the lewd outline of sensual craving create a little bump in a soft stomach. And that could become so much more if the wishes caused by the rut are seen to fruition, but only if Mistress wants them to be as well, of course. ‘Wa- Wanna give you p- pups, em- empty inside.’

To worsen the chastisement and please the gorgeous woman beneath, hips snap at a rapid pace in the chase to a second shot of white ignorance. Tail high and swishing back and forth in sexual agitated delight, fluffy chocolate brownie ears perk up to zone in on the background noise accompanied by the symphony of skin on skin and barely audible praise mingled with gasps while expanding the mess already made. ‘Listen to that. How slick my pussy is with your thick cum inside. You’ll definitely make me pregnant.’

‘Y- You’d look even pr- prettier ca- carrying our children.’ The mere image of creating our own little pack drives the frenzy for release, imaging Y/N’s stomach rounded and beautiful breasts swollen with milk for our cubs. Finally, we would have something to proudly call our own. ‘I- I love you, lo- love you so so much.’

Determined irises suppressing the equal desperation for blissful blinding make contact, nails digging into the back of the neck and the pain adding to the pleasure of being the sole one for a gorgeous woman. For my pretty owner. ‘You gonna knot me again, Joonie? Make me your bitch, your only bitch?’

The rapid sweeping of the full tail signals being incredibly close to the long-chased climax, a wonderful state of being only the marvellous woman beneath can push her pet to. ‘Yes. Yes, yes! Y- You’re my, um, hmm, o- only bitch. The only, ah, o- one I wa- want.’

The only one I want to bring me to this point.

The only one I feel safe with.

Only her. 

‘Oh my God, oh my God! Joonie! Shit, it’s so big.’ Familiar locks throw themselves into the pillow as a wolf’s gratitude slides in, laughing breathlessly in a moment of selfish pride, ears perked up. After all, a cocoa and honey wolf is the sole being which is allowed to do this, to be more of a lover than Jisung. 

Make Mistress’s belly swell with cubs. 

‘God! Yeah, stretch me open, big boy. Mmm, good pup. Love your cum flowing out of my pussy, the way you make my stomach bulge. Shit~ I love your wolf cock.’

‘Y- Yours. I- I’m yours. Only y- yours.’ Teeth bite down on the bottom lip, the barely aware mind utterly mesmerized by the show of pleased satisfaction. ‘You l- look perfect, M- Mistress.’

For a few seconds, the world slowly begins to turn as breath is regained and composure restored. Happy giggles fill the silence, soft caresses gliding over muscled arms in the aftermath and soothing the impact of the spell when it is nullified. 

‘Fuck, look at how open you fucked me.’ Gaze wanders downward, humming bordering on whimpering at the sight. Richly and languidly, a thick alabaster stream flows between thighs, increasing the arousing mess between them. 

A finger hooks beneath the chin, forcing a lock of gazes. ‘You’ll solely do this to me, understood? As soon as I’m back from my holiday, you’ll actually use me again as your bitch for the remainder of your rut and the ones to come. Do I make myself clear?’

The view causes a loss for words so that frantic nodding will have to substitute the strength of a promise that cannot be formed vocally. ‘Y- Yes, Mistress.’

The mirage fades away with the dawning realization there are comments on the screen, cooing at the fantasy of a lonesome pup which has its paws covered in a sensual mess.

‘R- Right, she isn’t h- here. Heh, how st- stupid of m- me.’ Voice reduces to whimpering, feeling the torn open gap that will not be filled. Left behind in the heart forevermore, even as a farewell is said to viewers sitting distantly behind a screen. ‘I m- miss her. But sh- she’ll be back. M- Mistress always c- comes back. Thank you f- for your kind w- words and keeping m- me company. Paw kissies from Joonie! Bye bye!’

But it is all just a fantasy.

The camera is turned off. 

Just like the belief I shall ever be Y/N’s.

Fully.

Exclusively.

A pillow shielding a deepthroat cup is placed between muscled thighs.

And the preferred method of slightly healing the wounded part of a philosophical mind very easily twisted into a simple animal is given into.

The self-made noise mingling with the lewd sucking takes away the meaning of the burning tears streaming down. 

Because all we have is this unrequited cruelty.

A wolf pup and its owner.

The truth untold.

[blackbatpurplecat]

My Thoughts on Batman: Hush (the animated movie)

The story arc Batman: Hush from 2002 was one of the first Batman comics I have ever read and it quickly became one of my all time favorites. I would have given everything to get an animated movie based on it!

Then the adaptation of Batman: The Killing Joke came out and changed everything.

I had to take a closer look at recent DC animated movies and realized their glorious days had been over for a long time. I stopped wishing for an animated movie. One came out anyway. So was I wrong? Was this another loveless adaptation with stiff animation and unnecessary changes?

Right at the start, we see a closeup of Gordon’s hand and he’s wearing his wedding ring on his middle finger so... yup, I’m sure DC invested a lot of money in the film’s production...

I’m gonna assume we all know the comic’s story. We know about BatCat giving their love a try, that Bruce reveals his identity to Selina, that Catwoman pushes Lois Lane off the Daily Planet to help Supes break free from Ivy’s control, how Bruce’s childhood friend Thomas Elliot is killed, how Clayface is mimicking Jason Todd which triggers Batman, that the new villain called Hush actually is Thomas Elliot who had teamed up with Riddler, that Riddler knows who Batman is, and that Batman breaks up with Catwoman because he’s still having trust issues.

Let’s just say the arc is PACKED with story and characters so it shouldn’t be hard to make a movie out of it, right? Sure, I was expecting some changes because of its packed-ness. Not every single subplot and every single character would make the cut, I get it. However, I still wasn’t prepared for what DC turned the story into.

So what were some of those changes and what did I think of them:

- replace Killer Croc with Bane. alright, more people know Bane, it’s fine - replace Huntress with Batgirl. ugggggh, okayyy... more people know Batgirl. I feel bad that this choice removed Oracle’s existence but okay. she had one scene, you already had the character design from that godawful Killing Joke movie and not enough budget to make Huntress, I can see past this - cut Leslie Thompkins. hmmm yessss okay, she wasn’t that essential to the story, alright, I can live with it - cut the entire involvement of the League of Assassins. I’m not the biggest fan of Ra’s al Ghul and co. so I didn’t mind that they reduced it to one cameo of Lady Shiva. HOWEVER she is the world’s best fighter! WHY NOT SHOW HER FIGHTING?! she could have been so much better but they chose to waste her for exposition purposes - make Amanda Waller skinny. yes, they once again turned the baddest bitch into a skinny woman because we can’t have fat people in a Batman movie, no one wants to fuck a fat Waller or jerk it over a fat Waller -__- just get over yourselves, DC you assholes! - Robin was cut entirely. wow. just wow. why do DC hate Robin so much? I don’t get it! - the shit stain rape result popped up in one scene for absolutely no purpose except for poorly establishing a fucked up “continuity” between all recent DC animated movies. something NO ONE in the fucking world wants or needs. just kill that little shit, he serves no purpose, he was annoying as fuck, he wasn’t even created when the original story came out, fuck him, delete him, stop shoe horning him into every Batman-related thing, he’s useless - cut the entire Jason Todd part. again, why the Robin hate?! it was one of the most emotional parts of the story, why cut it?! - cut the BatCat scenes in the cave, including Alfred telling Selina that he thinks the world of her. no words except for “what a disappointment” - change the entire ending and make it worse. S I G H

So Thomas Elliot was just a red herring for everyone who’s read the comics. Instead of Hush having a personal connection to Bruce and having more complex reasons to kill him, we get Riddler who wants to kill him just because he can. Cool. But seriously, who thought that this would make a satisfying ending?!

Kidnap Catwoman, make her the damsel in distress, have Batman come save her, and kill the bad guy - sounds like a quality script to me...

But apart from the poorly written ending, I have a major problem with what the movie focuses on: the Batman x Catwoman romance.

A huge reason why I love the comic is the BatCat relationship. It’s the first time, Batman kisses Catwoman back, it’s Bruce willingly revealing his secret to Selina to include her in his ENTIRE life and trust her with his life. We see them work together really well, we see how Selina loves Bruce but also doesn’t give up her independence. She’s willing to be by his side but won’t turn into his sidekick or change into a to him more “convenient” version of herself. And most importantly, she understands and appreciates and loves Bruce for his moral code.

DC being DC, they of course only half-ass their biggest romance.

While I did enjoy the added BatCat footage like Bruce and Selina in bed (I LoVeD that Selina sounded like they had just had the wildest most erotic experience ever while she was still wearing a shirt and he was wearing his boxers and both Selina and Bruce looked stiff as boards o_O ), having breakfast together, sharing kisses, taking down thugs together, and just the entire pacing indicated that their relationship grew over a longer time period in comparison to the comic, the movie fucked up essential points which I won’t forgive.

Catwoman was portrayed as a murderous, reckless villain. There’s no way around it. It was HER who threw Lois off a building and Bats chided her for it (IN THE COMICS IT WAS HIS IDEA), he has to hold her back from scratching up a bad guy’s face, she cuts the line holding Riddler so he falls to his death (CATWOMAN ACTIVELY KILLS HERE), and in the end, she angrily accuses Bruce of being absolutely insane because he has a moral code to keep himself from becoming what he’s fighting against.

What the flying fuck?!

That ending pissed me off SO MUCH! In the comic’s story arc, Batman breaks it off due to trust issues and it did seem a bit rushed and irrational just to re-establish the comics’ status quo of “Batman has to be single” but it’s a SO MUCH BETTER REASON than what the movie gives us! Catwoman has no problem with killing (one of the reasons I hate Nolan’s interpretation of her) and doesn’t understand Bruce AT ALL, she doesn’t get him as a person, she doesn’t understand that he wants to SAVE and PROTECT. He sums it up quite well, if there’s a chance to save someone, he has to at least try. That’s the hopeful Bruce we rarely see because DC fanboys are all about grim gritty edgy brutal.

And then they part on “maybe we’ll see things the same someday” a.k.a. Catwoman hopes that Batman will someday have NO problem with killing. Fuck. You.

So in this movie, Selina was a reckless murderess, a damsel in distress, and of course willing to change herself for a man and not for herself. Big round of applause for shitting on Catwoman.

Alright, done with my rant on story-related shit. What else was there?

Yes, the additional BatCat scenes were nice as well as the interaction between Catwoman and Nightwing. Just Nightwing in general was awesome. A true BatCat shipper.

The dialogues were bad. Best example is the post-sex one.

I can’t say much about the music, it was so bland that I have already forgotten it.

The animation ranged from nice to fucking bad. They had clearly put more effort into the fighting scenes when the movements were fluid and smooth - and then you get back to stiff, dead characters and nothing moves on them except their mouths. I couldn’t help but compare the shots to the comic’s pages: Superman and Poison Ivy, Joker on the trashcan, the big BatCat kiss - they all looked fucking ICONIC in the books but so boring and bland in the movie, with a color palette that covered mostly black and gray. There was absolutely nothing memorable about the adaptation’s look and style.

(also: yes, we totally needed ivy kissing catwoman so all the fanboys have jerk material again and harley quinn’s costume reveals her shoulders now? what a mUcH nEeDeEd change to the costume, yes, well done)

Also the pacing was weird, there were SO many awkward pauses in-between dialogues. I cringed way too often watching this.

Which brings me to the voice-acting. Did DC have so little faith in one of their most iconic stories that they didn’t even bother to get Conroy + Hamill? I guess so. Once Upon a Time star Jennifer Morrison did a great job at being Catwoman, her voice was a really good choice! Also Sean Maher as Nightwing was a riot. Jason Spisak was a surprisingly good Joker as well as Hynden Walch as Harley Quinn - but how do you cast Tara Strong and NOT give her Harley?!

The biggest dud however was Jason O’Mara again. He has no range at all, he keeps his voice as monotonous as possible ALL THE FRICKING TIME. There’s no Bruce Wayne voice, no Batman voice, he just grumbles everything without any emotions behind it.

Well, I guess that was it. I could go into more detail about every single thing they changed but I think this review is long enough as it is already. ;)

Would I recommend the animated adaptation of Batman: Hush? Maybe. To me, it was an expected letdown because DC’s animated movies are almost on the same very low level of the live-action movies nowadays, so if you’d ask me “should I watch it?”, I’d say “if you like BatCat, yes BUT read the comic first and don’t expect too much from the movie.”

[infinityactual]

Love and the Spartan IIs

So.

I'm so fucking deep in his fandom now that I'm writing gay fanfiction for the first time in my life. How I missed that boat at 15 I have no idea. But it's giving me life in so many ways as I sit here in the landfill with my Trash Cheerleaders, writing a rarepair I'd never considered but that fits so well....

Anyway...

I'm working on the basic frame of another project as well that's suddenly become very deep and detailed as far as human psychology goes...and I feel the need to voice an opinion that I've formed both from my own personal experiences and from talking to my Cheer Squad about humans in general.

So the Spartan IIs, due to how they were raised and trained, by default probably only got the Basic Bitch super-clinical sex ed: male impregnates female, female gestates approximately nine months, a baby is born. Voila. Also, it's noted in the lore that he thyroid implant may have the side effect of reducing/eliminating sex drive/desire to reproduce. And you can't miss what you've never had or known about(You can want it, but it becomes a much bigger deal after you experience it and like it). Though, they've probably developed some interesting and funny ideas of their own over the years as they listen to Marines/ODSTs chatter about stuff.

However; the IIs are painfully, irrevocably human. And in most cases, humans need contact with other humans to remain healthy, function and even survive. Which is why I wholeheartedly endorse any headcanon that they're a bunch of touch-starved cinnamon rolls. Monkey brain requires cuddles.

But a lot of what I've seen over the years involving the IIs feelings is a bit weird to me, especially in regards to love and romance.

Now: I agree that the IIs are going to only vaguely know what these things are. Human emotion is nebulous and stupendously complex and intricate. But I'm willing to bet my whole ass that the Spartan IIs experience love and maybe even romance on their own level. They just don't know what it is.

My husband and I have a very strange marriage from the POV of most other humans. The best way I can think to describe it is Friends with Benefits, except antidepressants cut out the benefits. We game, we call each oher names and harass each other. We care about each other's mental state, health and feelings. But all of the trappings of anything resembling a traditional American marriage is just not fucking present. There are days I fucking forget I'm married. No flowers or date nights here, just lots of terrible joke and anxiety-inducing adulting.

But we love each other. Differently than you expect, but it's still love. There is romance here, but it's our personal version of romance. It's not dead, just unrecognizeable. And if it's one thing I've learned from talking to the Cheer Squad, it's that every human is different, and has a different feel for what love and romance is. It just depends on the person.

I have no doubt John loves Blue Team. He fucking loves them. It's obvious. He doesn't want to fuck or marry any of them, most likely, but he loves them. And I'm pretty fucking sure that here are gestures or acts oerformed within Blue Team over the course of their lives that could count as romance. Not traditional romance, but the Spartan IIs own unique brand of romance.

Instead of flowers, John pulls some strings to get Linda that extra-special ammo she likes for her rifle.

Kelly gives John and emote or touch he needs, when he needs it. Not a massage or a kiss, rather she bumps against him lightly when he knows she would never be that careless, or does the smile emote more enthusiastically than normal.

I could see Linda trying to keep Fred from worying by gathering as much intel as she can on whatever he's worried about.

Fred bargains w Marines for extra candy bars right before or after a mission to boost team morale (they're giant kids, shut up)

TL;DR: the IIs may not know what to call what they have, but they have it. It's just not stereotypical. And they'd probably find stereotypical concepts of love and romance both strange and funny.

[thfrustration]

Theology for Beginners follow-up: You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow (part 1)

TITLE OF STORY: You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 1 of 2 AUTHOR: missviolethunter / missviolethunterwrites WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki GENRE: Romance, Drama FIC SUMMARY: Loki and his Midgardian wife Leah are awaiting the day of their baby’s birth, but some business with a troll may be giving Loki a bit of trouble on a very delicate moment. This is the final installment (for now, only for now) of the adventures of Loki and Leah. RATING: T WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Mention of hunting animals for food. FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Link to the main Theology for Beginners story

YOU’RE GONNA LOVE TOMORROW

   You’re gonna love tomorrow.        You’re gonna be with me.        You’re gonna love tomorrow,        I’m giving you my personal guarantee.        Say toodle-oo to sorrow,        And fare thee well, ennui.        You’re gonna love tomorrow        As long as your tomorrow is spent with me.  

      — Stephen Sondheim, Follies  

Part 1: In Praise of Women

“Oh, fuck!”

Up until the moment he’d heard the expletive, Loki had been taking a well-deserved nap. Deserved because he had (in his own opinion) behaved like a saint during the last few weeks. And definitely needed, because Leah had been keeping him awake at night for several nights in a row.

Like all intelligent men, Loki was patient. True, Leah’s pregnancy was a test to his patience some days, but he endured it out of love. Because he loved his wife, more than he had ever thought he could love a mortal woman… or any woman, mortal or not. He wanted her more every day, watching in fascination how her body changed, week after week. The extra weight and roundness of her body made him endlessly curious, without reducing his desire for her.

Sex wasn’t a problem. It had been the exact opposite of a problem since the early days of their relationship, and Leah’s pregnancy had not altered their night activities. The mechanics of sex had gotten difficult in the last month or so, because her increasing size limited the number of positions that were practical for both of them, but Loki always found a way for his wife to be comfortable… usually employing an inordinate amount of pillows. Besides, making love was one of the few things that helped her sleep at night when she was restless and fidgety, and thanks to that their marital life was made in the proverbial heaven.

No, the source of Loki’s lack of sleep was – always according to Leah – Loki’s fault. Or, to be more precise, his biology’s fault. His Frost Giant heritage, the part of himself he had fought so hard to repress for so many years, was making an unexpected return in the shape of the little creature that Leah was carrying inside, the little unnamed baby who was making a mess of their mother’s body temperature. She complained about the cold when the brazier was burning, tossed away all the blankets in the middle of the chilliest nights, started shivering or sweating for no reason… and Loki grew worried and restless day after day, because if Leah wasn’t able to sleep he didn’t allow himself to do it either.

That was why he was trying to take a nap right before noon, and why he jumped off the bed to the sound of a swear word and the smell of smoke across the room.

Still half asleep, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing: his heavily pregnant wife, standing beside the fireplace and patting at the skirt of her gown with a wet cloth, because apparently that’s where the burning smell came from.

Loki leaped from the bed and hurried to her side, trying not to smile.

“Again, my love?”

“Don’t you ‘again’ me, Loki. You know it’s hard for me to control this.”

“I asked Frigga to provide us with a fireplace so you would feel comfortable in this cell, but she won’t be happy if you set yourself on fire with it.”

Leah made a face at her husband and walked to the full-length mirror beside the bed to check the state of her clothes.

“Shit, another ruined dress”, she said, looking at the scorched mark on the black fabric.

Loki hugged her from behind, trying to keep her spirits up.

“You will have to abandon that language when the child arrives, my love. And it’s not your gown I am worried about, but your health. How do you feel?”

“Like an elephant, huge and clumsy. No, forget the elephant; a whale would be more accurate. I’m only twenty-six weeks along! How can I be this big?”

“Adis said your size was normal, and as a midwife she knows a thing or two about expecting women.”

She turned to face him and pouted. “Normal! I can’t sleep at night, I’m constantly craving foods that you don’t have in Asgard, and now my body temperature is all messed up again. Yesterday I burnt my tongue with the tea because I didn’t realize it was scalding, the teacup felt cold in my hand. How is that normal? And I know you’re scared that I will sleepwalk into the fireplace and set fire to myself. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Lovely Leah, you are much too clever for that”, he laughed. “And speaking of your cravings, I already asked my mother to get you some of that black chocolate you asked for.”

“Swiss chocolate? The one with cranberries in it?” she asked, hopeful.

“The same. My mother would do anything to make your life easier until the child is born.”

“And that’s another thing I hate: not knowing when it’s going to happen. If this was a fully human baby I would still have three more months to go, but I don’t think I’ll last that long without going insane!”

“I am sure it will be sooner than that”, Loki said, holding the agitated woman in his arms. He had lowered his voice to a low, soothing tone, and his mouth brushed Leah’s lips. Softly at first, and then in a persistent kiss.

She held on to his shoulders, moaning.

“If you’re trying to make me feel all hot and bothered, congratulations.”

“I always get what I want, woman.” Loki’s lips curled into a playful grin. “And what I want now more than anything is your happiness. And a healthy child.”

“What happened to ruling over Asgard? It’s gone down a few positions on the list, apparently.”

With infinite care, he placed his long hands on Leah’s belly, feeling her baby bump through the layers of clothes.

“Our child can rule over Asgard one day. Or any other realm he chooses, I will secure it for him.”

“Or her. Remember, Junior can be a girl. I dreamt it was a girl the other day.”

“Even better. An almighty Queen who will bow to no one.”

Leah laughed, putting her hands over his. “I think the reason the baby won’t come out is because of all those plans you’re making. Meanwhile, I feel like a broken thermostat.”

“If he’s half as stubborn as his mother, I expect no less. And he will be perfectly fine unless you let all those worries make you sick. It is all in your head.”

“You had zero complaints about my head last night”, she said in a sultry whisper.

“Minx. If we were not expecting company I would tell you exactly what I think of–”

A discreet cough interrupted their conversation. Adis, the Asgardian midwife, had been standing outside the cell’s transparent wall for a while, but she didn’t ask the Einherjar to lower the force field until Loki and Leah had acknowledged her presence.

“Good day to both of you. I came as soon as I got your message, my lady, I am here to check on you and the little one. How are we feeling today?” she asked with her perennial kind voice.

“Tired, worried, hot, cold, overexcited, sleepy and restless. Oh, and I just got too close to the fire again; didn’t you smell smoke? That was my dress, almost catching fire.”

“Everything normal, then. You are almost there, you know. I was not entirely sure of how long the pregnancy would last, but those hot and cold flashes indicate that your baby’s physiology is asserting itself. It will be any day now.”

“Good. It feels like I’ve been pregnant for years, and I’m so big that I’m almost afraid of moving without hitting something.”

Adis’s face went unexpectedly serious.

“That is the other reason why I am here. Queen Frigga has put me in charge of helping you move to Prince Loki’s old rooms, up in the palace, until the child is born. The Allfather thinks it’s not fitting for a lady of the realm to give birth to a future member of the Royal family in a cell. You will be more comfortable there; the queen will be able to visit you every day, and keep you company until–”

“No”, interrupted Leah.

“My lady?”

“I’m not going anywhere without Loki, and I suppose Frigga’s invitation doesn’t include him. I’m staying here, and if Odin wants his grandson to be born under a golden roof, he can free my husband anytime he wants.”

Loki and his former nursemaid looked at each other without saying anything. Leah’s stubborn (almost pigheaded) character and fierce loyalty to her husband was widely known, and that was the answer they both had feared. Loki went to sit beside Leah who, feeling a bit outnumbered, had taken refuge on the bed.

“Leah, it will be for the best if you follow Frigga’s advice.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. That’s what we agreed on when I came here.”

“And it honors you. However, I am not partial to the idea of having you give birth in this place, away from my mother and from the healers’ rooms. If something went wrong you will need their help.”

Leah’s lip quivered. “But…”

“Remember I have ways of being there without being physically present”, Loki whispered. “I know you hate being told what to do, but this time my opinion stands. You will go with Adis to my old rooms until the child is born.”

Leah closed her eyes and groaned.

“My love, this is not the moment to be dramatic and make a scene. When the child has arrived, you have my permission to scream at me for a full day, if you want.”

“It’s not that”, she said. “It’s… my back, suddenly it hurts like a bitch.”

The midwife hurried to Leah’s side. “Your lower back? A piercing pain?”

“Yes. It’s the second time today… it happened early this morning, and then it went away. That’s why I sent you that message, to make sure everything was alright.”

“More than alright”, said the older woman with a smile. But we need to get moving, my lady. You are having a contraction. It’s started.”

The midwife’s announcement brought a sudden silence to the room.

Leah opened her mouth and closed it again, torn between her reluctance to leave her husband and her common sense, which indicated that she should go and give birth in a more convenient place. Loki was the one who finally spoke:

“Is it really time, Adis? Not too soon?”

“Alas, children are always unpredictable, and a child as… special as yours is not going to adhere to any pregnancy calendar.” She patted Leah’s hand, reassuring her. “But I can still see with my own eyes, and what I see is that you are carrying a big, healthy baby who wants to be born as soon as possible. The rest will sort itself out like it does for every mother. Now, I will help you prepare a basket with your things.”

“There’s an empty one under the bed. I have to get a change of clothes… and the baby’s clothes, and I have a list somewhere of all the things you told me I’ll need. Do we need to go right now?”

“As soon as you are packed”, answered the older woman, grabbing the basket from under the bed and making her way to Leah’s closet, which she opened with little ceremony, picking and discarding clothes from the shelves. “We would be risking a very uncomfortable move if we wait, child. You do not want to cross the palace and climb all those stairs when your contractions are a few minutes apart. There is no time for you to change clothes, this cloak will do. Put it on and–”

Adis raised her head and listened intently. Someone was hurrying down the prison corridor, faster than any underpaid soldier would run; Leah held on to Loki’s hand, worried. The steps got closer and closer to the cell, finally revealing a very agitated (and almost out of breath) Fandral. He exchanged a few brisk words with the sergeant of the Einherjar, showed him a piece of parchment and then turned some sort of lock outside the door.

The force field dropped and stayed off, but nobody on either side moved.

“Fandral. If this is a rescue, I have to say it is both clumsy and very ill-timed”, Loki spat.

The blond warrior laughed. “I’m afraid my errand is of a different nature, my friend. Thor has sent me here to ask for your help, on behalf of your brother, of the Allfather and maybe of the entire realm.”

“Help?” interrupted Leah. “After they locked him here and lost the key? Thor has some fucking nerve asking for help… or maybe not, since he sent you to do his dirty work.”

Fandral smiled at Leah and bowed, ignoring her crass language. “My lady Leah, I volunteered for the errand. If this was about Thor’s personal matters with Loki I would have told him to sort it out himself, but I’m afraid this problem is much more urgent and dangerous than a brother’s quarrel.”

“How dangerous?” asked Loki.

“How many times have you encountered a troll in battle?”

Loki frowned. “Only once. Years ago, when Thor and I went to Nornheim to rescue a group of ambushed soldiers. A tribe of Dark Elves had escaped from their realm had allied themselves with the native trolls; we defeated them at great cost and barely made it back to Asgard alive.”

“Well, someone has seen a very wild and aggressive troll this morning, here in Asgard. It attacked two lumberjacks who were working in the Myrkviðr forest, near the western farms. Fortunately the men are more frightened than hurt, but the next time we may not be that lucky.”

“That forest is only three miles away from here.”

“And now you know why we need your help, and quick.”

Loki sighed and turned to speak to Leah, who had listened to Fandral’s story with an incredulous expression, as if the man had been speaking Chinese.

“Now it has become absolutely necessary that you go with Adis at once, my love. This is important, and I will not leave you here alone.”

“But Loki, what’s all that talk about… trolls? I thought they didn’t exist! At least on Earth, they exist only in fairy tales.”

“All tales have a smidge of truth in them. Yes, they exist, and they’re some of the most dangerous creatures I’ve ever encountered. But don’t worry, if there’s only one of them we will defeat it.” He stepped close to the cell’s entrance, just in front of Fandral. “I will need my armor.”

“Done.”

“And my knives.”

The blond man raised an eyebrow, dubious. “Thor will never allow it.”

“Trolls are impervious to magic. My knives or nothing.”

“Fine, I will smuggle a few of them out of the armory for you. But we need to leave at once, Loki. If the night falls and there’s a troll on the loose near those farms…”

Loki raised a hand, bidding the other man silence, and returned beside Leah for a moment. He put a hand on her cheek, as delicately as he could.

“I will be back in a few hours, my love”, he whispered. “Adis and my mother will take care of you. Be brave.”

“I thought when the baby came you would be by my side, not away fighting some… mythological monster. Loki, I’m really scared”, she said, failing to keep the panic out of her voice. “Don’t you dare getting killed and not coming back, do you hear me?”

“Duly noted”, he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “And now, won’t you send a warrior to battle with a kiss, woman?”

Leah looked around her to check that Adis and Fandral were not peeking, and then threw her arms around Loki’s neck.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The Myrkviðr forest was a vast extension of trees not far from the city. A quite convenient place for the Asgardians to get their firewood, and also the home of a large population of wolves, deer, foxes, birds… the usual fauna in any forest across the Nine Realms.

There were no animals in sight that day, though. As the three men crossed the stone bridge that separated the forest from the farmlands, all they could hear around them was a deadly silence. No birds chirping, no rabbits running, not even the buzzing of a bee. It was as if the entire forest had gone into hiding in fear of the trollish creature.

“This will be easy”, affirmed Thor, with Mjolnir in one hand and a heavy sword in the other. “We go in, you two attract the monster towards us, I slay it, and we’ll all be back home by dusk so Loki can be present when my nephew arrives.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “If it’s so simple, why are you keeping me away from my wife, precisely today?”

“I need your illusions to distract the monster, brother. You will have no trouble; they say trolls are tremendously stupid.”

“Many people of my acquaintance are tremendously stupid, present company included. That doesn’t mean I run around wasting my magic on them.”

Fandral interrupted him with an exaggerated (and fake) cough.

“As self-proclaimed keeper of the peace between you two, I must ask you to stop before you start fighting each other like always. Now, that place over there must be the clearing where the woodsmen were surprised by the beast, so if we cross that brook we will be right in its territory. Let’s try not to make any noise.”

The brothers nodded. Loki kneeled beside the little river, examining the mud for footprints; he found none, and they all waded the shallow water. Just as they reached the other side, Loki stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong? Did you see it?”

“Shhh. No, but someone – someone wearing boots – has trampled all over those bushes. Let me see.”

He surveyed the ground and the surrounding plants. It was already the middle of the afternoon, and the light was dwindling. After a moment, he emerged from the bushes, holding a wooden object in his hand.

“I have been away from Asgard for quite a while, but all my life I remember lumberjacks carrying axes to work, not crossbows.”

And a crossbow it was, an expensive one made of fine olive wood with silver and mother-of-pearl engravings. Loki examined it carefully and went back to the place where he had found it; a further search revealed a brown leather bag, full of bolts.

“That is not a peasant’s weapon”, observed Thor.

“Someone must have wanted a troll’s head in their trophy wall, and they ran into more trouble than they expected”, said Loki in a pointed tone. “When we get back, maybe you should exchange a word or two with those ‘woodsmen’… for all we know, the troll could have been pacific, and they were the ones harassing it.”

“A pacific troll”, laughed Thor. “And then what, carnivorous sheep? Brother, I fear your time in captivity has done things to your mind.”

“And I fear your lack of imagination has made you even duller than you already were. Didn’t your Midgardian wench teach you anything about keeping an open mind?”

“Peace, again, or I’ll bang both your heads against a tree!” interrupted Fandral, stepping in the middle of the Odinson brothers. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to two adult men, but… do not make me tell Queen Frigga.”

That put a temporary end to the hostilities, and the three men kept advancing thorough the forest. A bit further away they got to the foot of a grassy hill, where a group of big rocks on one side encased what looked like the entrance of a cave.

Nobody spoke, but Fandral drew his sword, and Thor made sure Mjolnir was still attached to his belt (it always was, but he had picked up that nervous habit during the time he’d been exiled on Midgard). Loki, who had no intention of letting go of his newly acquired crossbow, ran his fingers over the engravings on the weapon. Just as they were going to approach the entrance of the cave, they heard a noise… right behind them.

It was a troll, all right. A giant one, if Loki remembered correctly his visit to Nornheim many years before. At least eight foot tall, its grayish body covered in what seemed the furs of some animal, and adorned with a necklace made of bones and seashells. That little concession to civilization didn’t make it seem any less scary, especially when it let out a growl that would have chilled the blood of the most battle-scarred Asgardian warriors.

Thor grabbed Mjolnir and took a step towards the roaring creature, but Loki stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Brother, let me through or I will step over you.”

“Don’t move, you idiot!” said Loki in a shouting whisper. “The troll is looking at the cave, not at us. We are in its way, but I’m not sure it wants to hurt us.”

“Do you speak troll now? Maybe you can ask it if it’s enjoying its holidays in our beautiful realm!”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Fine, allow me to try one thing. If it doesn’t work, you can go ahead and charge like a brute, like you always do.”

Thor nodded and made a sign to Fandral, who was in the rearguard covering their backs. They both stepped aside, slowly retreating behind a group of trees.

Loki left the crossbow on the ground and raised his hands slowly, letting the creature see that he was unarmed. (He wasn’t. Apart from the two knives Fandral had stolen from the armory for him, he had three others hidden in his clothes. A routine safety measure, so to speak.).

“What is it you want in that cave? You are a forest troll, your kind does not like caves. Why is it so important for you to get in there?”

The troll grunted. It was looking at Loki intently, as if it understood what he was saying.

Step by step, Loki walked out of the creature’s way, not getting his eyes off it. There was a tense moment when Loki and the beast were less than two yards away, and he couldn’t help reaching inside his armor and grabbing the handle of a knife… just to be safe. However, the troll wasn’t paying any attention to him. It stopped at the entrance of the cave and let out a long wail, like a call. Then it disappeared into the dark.

“Well, that’s something one does not see every day”, said Fandral, relieved. “Did we manage to trap it inside the cave… or are we the ones trapped outside?

Loki looked pensive for a moment. “I think I am starting to realize what happened. That cave must be connected to the larger ones on the other side of the hill. There are passages between the realms there, but the terrain is unstable and dangerous. I tried to explore them once when I was a kid, and I almost fell down a gorge.”

“And that’s how it arrived?” asked Thor. “Then why didn’t it leave again, through the same passage?”

“The way may be blocked. Or maybe the troll is injured, there was blood on one of its legs”, observed Fandral. “Dried blood, so it has been here at least for a day.”

Thor turned towards Loki, who had recovered the crossbow and was attaching it to his back.

“You are very quiet all of a sudden, Loki. What’s on your mind?”

“I think there’s something in that cave that the troll didn’t want us to see, that’s why it was so agitated.”

“Something more important than the creature’s instinct to fight us?” asked Thor.

“This creature’s instincts may be different from the trolls we’ve fought in the past, brother.”

“I didn’t see any difference, except that this one is bigger than any other I’ve seen.”

“Exactly. Because our troll is a female.”

Thor made a face. “There are female trolls? And they are bigger than the males? I thought…”

“Did you really believe they’re born out of rocks? Even you are too clever to pay heed to those old wives’ tales, Thor.”

The blond Asgardian pictured the troll in his mind… and, now that Loki had mentioned, there had been a hint of feminine shape behind the furs, the matted hair and the nasty smell.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Fandral. “My usual way of dealing with ladies is to seduce them, but I’m not volunteering to do that with this one, lovely as she may be in troll standards.”

“I have an idea”, said Loki. “One that fortunately doesn’t involve me having to witness your deplorable flirting skills. Thor, have we brought any food?”

“I did not think we would stop for a picnic.”

“Very funny. In that case, I need you to go and hunt a rabbit.”

Meanwhile, back at the palace, Leah was busy regaining her breath.

“I think… oh, God… I think that’s it. Can I sit down now?” she asked Frigga, who was walking beside her up and down the vast bedroom.

The queen exchanged a glance with Adis, who was busy making tea on an kettle over the fire.

“Good job, child”, answered the midwife. “Your contractions are still widely spaced, you have plenty of time to rest before the next one. Come sit and have some of this tea, it will help with the pain.”

Almost out of breath, Leah let herself fall on a rocking chair. Frigga sat on a low bench, always by her side like she had been for the past couple of hours.

Leah sipped a bit of the herbal drink. It tasted like bay leaves and bitter aniseed, and she scrunched her nose before swallowing it.

“In all the classic movies I’ve seen, women give birth in bed”, she complained to Frigga. “Why do I have to walk and move so much?”

The queen smiled.

“Those ‘movies’ you mention were probably made by men, my dear. Walking during the contractions will help with the progression of the birth, and it will keep your mind away from the pain. Now relax and let your body prepare for the next time; it will be easier if you do not fight the process.”

Leah let out a loud sigh and looked around her. They had installed her in Loki’s former lodgings, which had turned out to be quite more than a simple room. In fact, it was a full apartment, complete with two bedrooms, a study, a giant bathroom and a huge living room, all of them decorated in green and gold. There was even a small kitchenette, tucked away behind a cleverly hidden panel. Both the main bedroom and the living room had French doors that led to a balcony; Leah had peeked outside during one of her strolls around the place, and she had seen a number of people congregated outside. They clapped and cheered when she approached the edge.

Private matters weren’t that private in Asgard, not when they concerned Odin’s family.

She had avoided the balcony since then; it was starting to get dark, and Adis had closed the curtains so she wouldn’t worry about the small crowd who was anxious to meet their new prince or princess.

“What time is it?” she asked, wondering what Loki would be up to, and how long it would take him to come back.

“No looking at the clock, dear”, answered Frigga. “It will not hurry things up and all it will do is make you nervous.”

“I’m already nervous. I feel like I’ve been in labor for ages!”

The queen walked to the fireplace and fanned the flames. Between her duties and Leah’s confinement, she hadn’t had many long conversations with her daughter-in-law since the day of her arrival, and now she was anxious to find a topic that would make the girl forget that her husband was away, battling a troll, perhaps in mortal danger.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were like as a child?” she finally asked. “Loki was so quiet and well-behaved that sometimes I could not believe my own luck. If he had been like Thor I would have gone mad before the first year.”

Thankful for the change of subject, Leah smiled.

“I was… I guess well-behaved would be a way of describing me, yes. My Nonna… my grandmother said I talked non-stop, and I remember a game I played all the time with my dolls… I was the host of a television show, and they were my guests. Of course I did all the talking, of course.”

“Sounds like you were a happy child.”

“Yes, at first I was. At least until my mother got sick”, Leah said, frowning.

Frigga raised an eyebrow in silence, and Adis left whatever she was doing with her herbs and came near the fire, listening intently.

Leah downed the rest of her tea, and spoke again.

“Shortly after I was born, my mother married a man called John Channing. He wasn’t my father, but I didn’t know it then… he adopted me, gave me his name, and he was the most wonderful dad any kid could dream. He drove a huge truck, and I loved it when he took me for a drive with him… One day when I was five, I told him I wanted to be a lady truck driver when I grew up. He laughed, but he got me a toy truck for my next birthday anyway. “

She stopped to catch her breath and went on.

“I had no idea, but my mother had started drinking when I was a baby. Dad… John was away a lot, because of his work, and I guess my mother felt lonely. Then she began drinking even when he was at home, and they fought more and more every day… until one day he left and didn’t come back.”

Frigga put a hand on Leah’s shoulder. “I did not mean for this to be painful for you, dear. If it is too much, let us talk about something else.”

“No, I have to tell this to someone or I will burst. Let me finish.” She ran her hands through her hair, loose now that her carefully braided bun had become undone with all the moving and walking around. “I was seven years old when my parents divorced, and from then on my mother’s drinking only got worse. My grandmother moved in with us for a few months, but it was one fight after another again, because my mother refused to get help. Any kind of help. One day they had a huge row, and my mother… she insulted Nonna so badly, and then she threw her out. My grandmother was a proud woman, and that was the last time she set foot in our house. I visited her almost every day, but she didn’t see her daughter again for several years.”

By then Frigga was cursing the moment she had started asking inconvenient questions. She looked at Adis, whose kind brown face was now serious and worried, and then at her daughter-in-law.

“How did you manage after that?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I had to take care of things”, she answered, fixing her steely gaze on the two women beside her. “I did the chores after school when my mother was too sick to get up. I got a cookbook from the school’s library and spent hours reading it… and then the following day I made mac and cheese. I remember my mother liked it… she even got out of bed to eat that day, and told me it was delicious. I guess that’s one of the reasons I like cooking.”

She reclined her head back, as if the long speech had exhausted her, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she squeezed Frigga’s hand and blinked to hold back a tear.

“And now you know why I’m so scared to have this kid. How am I going to raise a child… when it’s been so long since I knew how it feels to be one?”

Frigga smiled at her, making tiny wrinkles appear around her kind blue eyes.

“You have a new family now. A husband who loves you, a new brother… even a new father.”

“Odin doesn’t like me.”

“He does not know what to do with you… or with Loki, but that is a different problem, and we will address it at a different time. Moreover, you have me. I know I cannot replace your real mother and grandmother, but I will help you in any way I can.” She smiled at herself, like enjoying the visit of an old memory. “If I could handle raising a baby who turned blue every time he cried, I am sure helping you with my grandchild will be… how do they say it in Midgard? A piece of cake.”

The idiom seemed so out of place in Frigga’s voice that Leah had to laugh.

“I’m still hoping this one doesn’t give me frostbite when I hold him… oof!” She put her hands over her belly, feeling the familiar pain start again.

Adis put an arm behind Leah’s shoulder, supporting her back while she stood up.

“This one has arrived sooner than I expected. I will put the water to boil and get the bed ready.”

“You mean you’ll actually let me get on the bed now?” Leah asked, hopeful.

“Maybe for a while, when this contraction is over. Now, hold my arm and start walking, child.”

Leah did what she was told to, groaning.

“Oh, why did I let Loki do this to me? I swear, if he survives the troll I’m the one who’s going to kill him.”

The two women beside her laughed heartily, and Leah did all she could not to look offended.

“Now you are talking like a woman in labor”, Frigga said. “Come on, keep walking slowly and do not hold your breath.”

[awkwarddezzy]

It Will Always Just Be Me

Pairing: Dan x reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, fluff (though it’s mostly angst)

Song: Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic! At the Disco [I’ll never get over how long this song title is]

TW: swearing (aka I lost count of how many times I used the word ‘fuck’)

Word count: 3,212

For @phanny-fics writing competition. This song has been a guilty pleasure of mine lately, and my mind screamed ‘FANFIC THIS.’ Cause you know, this is what happens when I turn to the emo trinity to keep my writing juices flowing. Also, on a random note, when I Googled the lyrics for this song, I literally just typed in ‘panic at the disco lying is’ because there was no way in hell I was gonna type in the entire song title in the search bar. 😅

When she shows up knocking at my door, I’m this close to slamming the door on her face. For an entire week, I didn’t receive a call, text, or any form of communication from her. Not only did she make me crave for her attention, but her ignorance made me feel pathetic. Here I am, pinning my heart for the girl of my dreams. Too bad I’m too stubborn to see that my dream girl is also my worst nightmare.

“What are you doing here?”

She glides into my flat, initially not answering my question. She’s wearing those pair of heels, the black “fuck me” heels that she purposefully teases me with. And her dress… damn it, she shouldn’t be wearing such alluring clothing in public.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

I lock the door. Thank god Phil is spending the entire day with PJ. I don’t need Phil to pity me again for having a weak resolve.

“Who is it this time?”

“What makes you think there’s a who?”

I laugh bitterly. Does she think I’m blind? “I know you, (Y/N). Who’s the poor sap this time?”

She pouts, dropping her purse on the floor. “His name doesn’t matter.”

“So there is a someone.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re just here to fuck me again,” I snap.

She tenses. Gotcha. She’s way too transparent.

“Stop talking.” She steps closer to me until the front of our bodies touch. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later. For now-” she snakes her arm around my neck, “Let’s have some fun.”

I have to resist. This isn’t worth it. I’m only going to be left with disappointment again.

“Look at me, Dan.” Her thumb brushes along the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been busy-”

“Bullshit. If you were busy, you were busy finding another fuck buddy.” I try to put some distance between our bodies, though she won’t let me. Her arms stay around my neck and now her breasts are squished against my chest.

“It’s not like that.” Her voice trembles and vulnerability replaces her apparent lust. “You know I want to be with you. But we can’t be together. My parents don’t like you. Your fans will bash us.”

Shit, I hate when she pulls that card. She isn’t wrong. Her parents aren’t entirely accepting of the idea of us as anything more than friends. The Phan shippers and zealous fangirls will definitely direct flames toward her. As much as I loathe her behavior, I know she’s doing this to protect my reputation. She’s scared of her feelings for me, so she’s quick to say yes to any man who shows any interest to her, even when all those men only want her for her body.

I’m not that kind of man. I want all of her and so much more.

“It always boils down to that reason, huh?”

She nods. Her dropped guard disappears and her (E/C) irises are back to their lustful state. “Let’s forget all that for now. Please?”

I can’t say no to her.

I cup her cheeks and mash our lips together. She groans, tangling her fingers in my hair. She steps backward until we both fall on the sofa. Our mouths disconnects, and her tantalizing smile makes me forget my resistance.

Our clothes are discarded, left as a messy heap on the floor.

Her heels stay on. If she wears “fuck me” heels, she’s going to get fucked while wearing them.

When we’re naked, I tell her to bend over the arm of the sofa.

“We’re doing this my way,” I whisper huskily in her ear.

She obeys, and I bite my lip at the sight of her wet and ready for me. She yelps when my palm spanks her ass.

“This is for fucking someone behind my back.” Another slap. “This is for making me go seven days without you.” Slap. “Seven.” Slap. “Goddamn.” Slap. “Days.” Slap. “And this is just because I wanted to.”

“Stop teasing me,” she whines.

“I’ll tease you as much as I want to.” When we’re alone like this, I’m in control. She can have me wrapped around her finger again when this is over.

“Fuck me,” she murmurs.

“Beg for it.”

Her breath hitches. She knows this was coming. I won’t give her what she wants that easily.

“Please fuck me.”

“Where would you like me to fuck you?” I graze over her slit with my index finger. “Here?” I move the same finger to her anus. “Or here?”

“W-Whatever you want.”

“Ah.” I move my finger back to her slit. “So here. How would you like me to fuck you?” I use my thumb to rub circles on her clit. “Like this?” My index finger buries into her and I slowly move it in and out. “Or like this?”

“T-that works.”

“Or…” My unoccupied hand guides my cock to her pussy so the tip brushes along her clit. “Would you like me to use this?”

“I don’t care!” she wails. “Just please… please fuck me already.”

There. That’s how I want her: reduced to a needy mess.

So I give her what he wants. She screams in relief when I finally push my cock into her. I pour my week-long frustrations into her. My body thrusts rapidly in and out of her, my hands gripping her hips roughly that I’m certain there’ll be bruises forming by tomorrow morning. In the back of my mind, my gentle side is begging me to slow down, to savor the moment and remember that our time is limited. For her, the concept of forever doesn’t exist for us.

But I don’t care. I’ll take what I can get, even if what I get are scarce leftovers.

Curse words fall from her mouth constantly. Her arms struggle to hold herself up, until it gives out and the upper half of her body slumps atop the couch arm. I’m glad these walls are somewhat soundproof; god forbid the complaints from our neighbors who might think I’m murdering someone in here.

“That’s it,” I croon. “Let it out, (Y/N).”

“Shit… I’m gonna come.”

“Good girl. Come for me. Show me who’s mine.”

She shouts my name, her orgasm causing mine to follow a few seconds later. I drown in the sounds of our pleasure. This was worth waiting an entire week for. This was worth the tension when she waltzed into my home and was capable of shattering the barriers I put up around me.

“Whoa,” she breaths once we finish riding our highs. “I totally missed that.”

“Same here, sweetie.”

“Mmmm…” I pull out of her, moving to lie on the couch. She takes a minute to remove her heels. I’m tempted to spank her again; if she’s showing her backside to me like this on purpose, the joke is on her. I’ve already gotten what I wanted. I can wait another ignorant week.

“His name’s Gordon.” She kicks off her heels and lays down on top of me. She rests her head on my chest. “I met him while I was at a bar with (B/F/N).”

“And you slept with him.”

“Nope.”

“But you will.”

“Maybe, if I like him enough.”

“Have you kissed him?”

She lifts her head to look at me. The slight glimmer in her eyes confirms my question.

“We only kissed. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m not.” Yeah I am. I have to know how much of an asshole he is right of the bat.

“I’m going on a real date with him tomorrow.” She caresses my cheek. “We had a good conversation when we met. If our date goes well… Dan, I think he could be the one.”

“You’re saying that and you barely know him.”

She sighs. “Yeah…but I’m crossing my fingers. Heartbreak is a bitch.”

Of course it is. But she wouldn’t have to keep experiencing heartbreak if she just picked me.

This is what we are. We’re more star-crossed than Romeo and Juliet. Our teen-like hearts, beating fast in a secluded flat, close to touch but unable to beat in sync.

˜:˜

Gordon is a dick. I don’t know the guy, but I know he is. Every man that (Y/N) has been with is. They’ll use her, trick her into thinking she’s the only apple to their eyes. It’s a lie, because they only see her as the bruised apple and there’s another woman out there who’s the ripest apple of their tree.

Phil doesn’t seem to think so. He thinks Gordon is different. It’s the first time that Phil has ever said that about her boyfriends. It worries me, because if Phil is right, Gordon isn’t an asshole and he’s falling in love with her in the pure way that I’m doing. He’s stealing my girl. I won’t swallow that fact lightly.

I deserve her. I deserve the love that she gives to other men one hundred percent. I deserve her at her best and worst. Not Gordon. Not a man who’s going to be another ex.

A few days pass. Then a week. A month. Three months. She barely comes to the flat. We haven’t had sex since she dropped by the flat to first tell me about Gordon. Thankfully, there aren’t long durations without receiving texts and calls from her anymore. We’ve reached a point where I can call her anytime and she’ll be likely to answer it.

However, it doesn’t remove the ache in my chest at the thought of (Y/N) and Gordon as a couple. The longer they’re together, the less optimism I have of (Y/N) and I as endgame. Phil still tells me to keep my hopes alive, though I’m beginning to truly give up this time around. What’s the point of waiting for a girl that can’t reciprocate my feelings?

Why am I still choosing to be single?

˜:˜

I try not to think about (Y/N) at the next YouTube party. I have a blast hanging out with Phil and our YouTube friends. I drink more than I normally do. Louise teases that the beast in me is finally released.

Oh Louise, if only she knew that there was already someone else who has seen my beastly side before.

I’m flat-out drunk before midnight. Phil calls someone to pick me up. He knows he should go home too so he could look after me, but I tell him to stay. I know he wants to. I’m not letting my drunkenness take away his night to have fun.

Despite my hazy mind, my tiny bit of soberness sees who took me home. She doesn’t talk during the entire ride and she doesn’t turn on the radio. The silence in her car brings peace to my brain. It’s lessening an urge to vomit.

She helps me walk into my flat. Or rather, stumble my way through. My urge to vomit returns and I immediately throw up in the loo as soon as we get inside. My brain is desperate for sleep, though my tired body wants me to stay awake. So I stumble back into my bedroom and collapse on my bed. Not too long later, she joins me.

“You shouldn’t have gotten drunk,” she scolds me, sitting down on the mattress.

“Didn’t want to turn down free drinks,” I mumble.

“You’ve done that before.”

“I regret doing that.”

She shakes her head in disappointment. “What’s gotten into you? You normally don’t drink yourself to this point.”

“Why do you think I got myself drunk? I think you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s because I love you, okay? I love you and I can’t have you and we’ve talked about this so many times already. But it’s still the same. You want love, just not with me. For my sake and all that other shit.”

“Dan-”

“I fucking hate you,” I spat. “I hate being in love with you. I’m sick of you telling me that you’re sacrificing our chance to be together to protect my reputation. But I’m fucking sacrificing shit too. You’re not even giving me a chance and I’m forced to just watch you get your heart broken all the damn time. I’m tired of it. I’m so, so, so tired of it.”

I close my eyes after my outburst. I don’t see nor hear her reaction. As I fall unconscious, I smile at the burden I’ve finally gotten out of my chest.

It feels better than all the orgasms I’ve had from her.

˜:˜

I wake up the next day with a massive headache. I feel like a boulder pounded through my skull repetitively and I haven’t died from it. The sweet release of death would’ve been so much better than to be conscious with this mental hell.

(Y/N) is nowhere in sight. There’s two Tylenol pills and a glass of water on my dresser. I don’t know if it’s Phil or (Y/N) who left it there.

I swallow the pills and drink the water. I wait for my hangover to subside. I stay in bed for nearly an additional hour before I can stand up with minimal pain in my head.

Phil is eating a sandwich in the kitchen when I exit my bedroom. He grins upon seeing me awake.

“Hey,” I grumble.

“Hey! You feeling better?”

“I’m feeling more shit than usual.”

Phil chuckles. “I’m not surprised.”

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

“She left a couple of hours ago. Said she wanted to stay, but she had something important to take care of.”

Ugh. Gordon is that important thing.

Phil gives me a hesitant gaze. “Ummm… (Y/N) texted me not too long ago.”

“What’d she say?”

“She broke up with Gordon.”

I freeze. Am I hearing this right?

“She texted you first, but you didn’t answer back. I told her you were still asleep. She said she’ll call back tonight.”

Fuck it. I’ll call her right now.

I dash to my room and grab my iPhone. There’s one unread text from her, though I ignore it and dial her number instead. I know what the text entails. What I need is to hear the news through her own mouth than words on a phone screen.

“Yo.”

“You really broke up with Gordon?”

“What, I don’t get a good afternoon?”

“Good afternoon, (Y/N). Now spill.”

She sighs. “Yes, Dan. I broke up with Gordon.”

“Why?”

“Do you not remember what you told me last night?”

I rack through my memories of last night. There was a party. I got drunk. (Y/N) drove me home. I said some things to her… wait.

I told her I love her.

I said “I love you” to (Y/N).

Fuck. My. Life. I wasn’t supposed to do that.

“Meet me outside your flat. I wanna talk to you face-to-face.”

“Uh… yeah. I’ll… see you.”

The surprise hits me more when the call ends. She knows how I feel for her. All this time, she only knew that I was interested in pursuing a relationship with her. Not that I love her. No, I intended to save those three words until we got through a first date.

Phil notices my shocked expression as I walk out my room. He’s done with his sandwich, and he beams, probably knowing what we talked about.

“(Y/N)’s coming over?”

I nod, still speechless.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He winks. “Just don’t be too loud, eh?”

I scowl, sticking my tongue out. I’m going to talk to her, not fuck her senseless. I can save that for a later time.

“I’m happy for you, Dan. Go get your girl.”

My scowl switches to a grateful smile. It’s thanks to Phil’s advising that I’ve been able to rationally deal with my emotions toward (Y/N).

“She was always my girl,” I reply. “It just took her a lifetime to accept it.”

˜:˜

When (Y/N) arrives driving her (your favorite car), I open the car door and sit down on the shotgun seat. It would be more comfortable for us talk in my flat, but if we wind up arguing, it wouldn’t be fair for Phil to be forced to eavesdrop on it.

“Hi,” I greet.

“Hey.”

“So…”

“Last night made me think about a lot of things.” She unbuckles her seatbelt. “It was a lot to take in. I… I was ashamed. I knew you were hurt from all the dating failures I’ve had and me going to you because of it. But I never thought you’d be in love with me. I thought you only cared about me as a close friend. In all the relationships I’ve had, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt insecure about falling for. All the other guys, I didn’t mind if I got my heart broken. As long as I tried, hey, at least I know they’re not the one. With you, I was genuinely afraid I’d really lose you as a friend if we fell in love. Liking: I’m okay with that. Sex: I’ll roll with it. Love: I’d rather lose a limb than have my heart make that commitment. Gordon’s cool, but he isn’t you. He’s funny, he’s understanding, he’s hot as hell and a fantastic kisser. But I can’t love him. I can’t see myself saying yes if he proposed to me one day. If you proposed… I’d honestly say yes before you even asked ‘Will you marry me?’”

“(Y/N), are you saying you want to get hitched?”

She giggles. “You’re missing the point. I love you too, you dork. I broke up with Gordon because I realized I’m supposed to be with you. I don’t care what my parents and your friends will say. If I want to have Daniel Howell as my boyfriend, then I’ll let him be my boyfriend.”

“So you want to be my girlfriend?“

She grins, her head moving up and down excitedly. She moves her mouth to my ear. “I want the man who’s a freak on YouTube and in the sheets.”

I laugh, elated that my nightmare is over. I don’t have to keep us a secret to the public anymore. “Want me to prove that to you in here?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

Her grin doesn’t falter as she drives her car elsewhere. She moves it at a more isolated location, and once she finishes parking, she pounces.

We kiss each other hungrily. We move to the passenger seat so we have more room. I inch her dress up and slide her panties down her legs. She pulls down my pants down to my feet. We groan in unison as I bury myself to the hilt inside her. My movements are slow, a first since sex became a factor in our lives. Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking her Clothes off by Panic at the Disco is playing on the radio, partially masking the sounds of the moans and groans escaping our lips. How fitting, except now my girl is officially my girlfriend.

We don’t fuck. We make love. We take our time, and after we reach our peaks, I hug my lover close.

We can dance to this beat for as long as she’ll have me.

[artificialqueens]

weak (violet/trixie/katya) 5/? - kitty

A/N: smut! feelings! hedgehogs! also i now have a writing blog @kittydoux if you want to yell at me. as always, much love to polly

summary: 

“Tell us what you want,” Violet says quietly, hates saying the words because they like to know, not ask.

Katya is silent for a few moments.

“Tell us what you need.“

Violet wakes up with a crick in their neck and Trixie Mattel drooling inelegantly on their shoulder. They’re pressed up against the arm of the couch. A red five blinks insolently at them from the digital clock on Trixie’s table. It’s early, too fucking early, thanks, but Violet knows they’re not going to be able to fall back asleep. They ease themselves out from underneath Trixie, who slumps further against the arm of the sofa. Katya is burrowed into him, arms slung loosely around his waist and mouth open on his chest. Violet takes a moment to look at them like this, open and vulnerable. They’ve seen Katya asleep, god, how many times? Napping on the tour bus, passed out on airport sofas. Once, in their hotel bed after a long gig where Alaska had accidentally taken Katya’s room key and was currently getting ploughed by a bar tender. Katya had looked at Violet sheepishly, put on her raspy voice (that reminded Violet secretly of a deranged farmer they had once known) and shrugged, saying “Sorry, mama. Guess you’re stuck with me”. This was in the middle, Violet remembers, of tour. It was after they’d started fucking (which had happened, really, as a joke once about Violet riding a pensioner, and had ended in this – both of them curled up in Trixie at 5am). That time, that time with the bed, they hadn’t had sex. Katya kissed them on the forehead (“This stops the goblins from harassing you while you sleep”), then once on each cheek. Violet remembers how they looked perfectly, as though they were an external observer. They see themselves cross-legged on a hotel room bed as Katya holds their face, kisses their closed eyes, and says good night. They see themselves watching Katya as she sleeps, tracing a finger down her shoulder. 

This is the first time since then that Violet has seen Katya in this state, whole and surrendered and peaceful. This feels secret and safe, like they have to take in all of these details now for fear they’ll never see it again. It’s the veins in Katya’s arms, specifically, blue and spindly, contrasting with Trixie’s warm gold skin. Trixie tans naturally, in a way that makes Violet think of long summer nights, of abandoned highways, of the desert and the way it makes the sky look when it’s hot and nothing feels real, even less the stars. Preservation, is what Violet thinks, and shakes their head slightly at their own ridiculousness. The sun is rising slowly. Trixie’s curtains aren’t fully shut, and a few fingers of orange light press against them. Violet wanders around, feeling slightly like a kid, up too early on Christmas morning and trying to figure what the presents are. Trixie has a rack of vinyls, including his own album (Violet listens to it sometimes on tour. They’ve never liked country music, but there’s something oddly comforting about his voice, singing about things that no one except a traveller could ever really understand). There’s some fanart on the walls, some ugly cushions (that Violet just knows Katya picked out, gets a pang when they imagine Trixie and Katya going furniture shopping together). Trixie’s bedroom is simple, he has a pink bedspread and a guitar against the walls. Violet rifles through his wardrobe until they find a pair of light grey sweats and an inoffensive white tank, rolling their eyes at Trixie’s frankly terrible fashion sense.

They shower quickly, making sure to inspect all of Trixie’s assorted shower gels, finally deciding on one that smells like plastic apples. Katya is perched on a stool at the kitchen counter when Violet leaves the bathroom, Trixie’s sweatpants rolled down in an attempt to keep them on their skinny hips. She looks tired but lovely, as Katya so often does. She reminds Violet of a dancer from the seventies, all prominent cheekbones and big wondrous eyes, slightly emancipated in a way that makes Violet ache in a sad, small way.

“Good morning, Violet. Did the whispers of you inner demons wake you up early, or was that just me?” It’s a joke but not a joke, delivered with a wheeze and a sense of melancholy.

“Nah, mostly Mattel’s avalanche of drool.”

Katya bares her teeth at that, in a smile but not a smile. “He is truly the human embodiment of a curiously sticky waterfall.” Violet ignores her, and they both watch Trixie asleep on the couch, curled up now and covered in a blanket. 

“Coffee?” Violet makes coffee, and Katya stretches in the corner, popping her shoulders and back in a fascinating yet disgusting way.

The smell of coffee rouses Trixie, who demands a mug in their hands before his eyes are even open. He and Violet sip in tandem as Katya moves into a downward dog, lean and lovely, framed in the light shining through a window that Violet had opened. It’s hot already, a sticky cloying.

“Nice sweatpants,” Trixie observes mildly, eyes unfocussed in the general vicinity of Violet’s chest.

“They were the only half decent things in your wardrobe.”

Trixie hums non-committaly. “I might have some jean shorts that would fit you.” Neither of them makes a move to retrieve them. Katya pads over, takes a swig of coffee from Violet’s mug. “I’ll make eggs” she offers, but it comes out as a question. “You’ll burn my apartment-” “condo,” Violet corrects unhelpfully. Trixie shoots them a look. “You’ll burn my living zone down. I’ll help.”

Violet doesn’t offer to help, and takes their coffee outside. They sits on the red box they’ve come to think of as theirs, sweat pooling underneath their thighs. They know that most people find sweat distasteful - gross, even, but Violet finds a weird sort of pleasure in feeling the beads roll down their back and arms and legs. They like the feeling that the sun is focussing all it’s attention on them, reducing them to a puddle. It’s whatever. The door to the kitchen is open, and Violet can hear Trixie and Katya talking. They wonder if one of them will mention last night, or the weird state of limbo the three of them are currently wafting through. They don’t do any of those things. Well, not really.

“You never mentioned Violet’s cephalopod tendencies.” Trixie’s voice sounds casual, in a way that wholly indicates he doesn’t feel casual at all. 

“Why, has she been squirting ink in your shower? That’s a new feature”

Violet hears Trixie shriek, the familiar sound of skin slapping skin.

 "No, you absolute monster. She’s so cuddly. It’s like sleeping with the world’s meanest scarf.“ Violet strains, listening for Katya’s laugh. There isn’t one. Her voice comes out slightly warbled when she replies.

“We never really did that.”

 There’s silence for a few beats, Violet’s heart thumping in their neck and wrists and toes. Sweat clings to them almost unbearably now.

“Why not?” Trixie sounds so soft that Violet thinks they love him a little. Who knew that the answer to the Violet and Katya mess of feelings and fucking would be Trixie, right? They can practically hear Katya shrug, are very tuned in to the minute shifts of her bones and muscles. “Because I…I don’t know, I assumed they didn’t want to? Vi’s more of a sea urchin than an octopus”. Violet hears the tremble in her voice, uses it to mask the stab of pain they feel at the words. Trixie’s voice screams of raised eyebrows and disbelief. “Bitch, I know that that’s not true after three days. You’re seriously telling me, after how many months of fucking, that you didn’t know she’s a massive softie?” Another pause. Violet’s not sure they’re even breathing any more.

“Violet’s like. Violet’s like…you know, like porcupines? Well, in England they had hedgehogs-”

“Katya, I went to college. I know what a hedgehog is”

“Alright, okay, I mean you did do a degree in musical theatre in Wisconsin”

“Oh my god, I hate you. It was Wisconsin, not Siberia!" 

"I think they have hedgehogs in Siberia?”

“What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, Violet. Continue with your analogy.”

“Violet’s like a hedgehog because she’s prickly." 

"Poignant.”

“Fuck off. And like, hedgehogs roll into little balls when they’re scared, right? So they’re cute and then BAM! Like a tiny ball of cactus-like pain.”

 "Okay, but like. I take your simile, and raise you a metaphor. What if you’re the hedgehog? What if Violet’s been, I don’t know, exposing her soft metaphorical stomach to you the whole time, and you’ve been the one in a spiky ball?“ There’s silence again.

Violet is attempting to take in the fact that Katya thought a hedgehog was the most fitting animal to describe them.

"That is disturbingly profound, Tracy.”

“I have my moments." 

Silence descends. Violet’s sure that at least Trixie knows they’ve been listening. After a few moments, a freckled wrist shoves a plate of eggs in front of them. Trixie grins at them tiredly, and sits down on the adjacent red box. Katya joins them. They eat in silence.

“This is messy, isn’t it.” It’s an observation that needs to be stated, clearly, and Violet’s always been one for pushing that line. Kat and Trixie – they’re too close to ever say what they’re feeling really, to ever push that tension into romance. This is Violet’s civic duty, and they feel very much like the good and noble citizen they try so hard not to be.

Trixie shifts almost imperceptibly next to them. Violet hears him sigh.

“You’re right. This is messy.”

They wait expectantly for Katya’s input on the messiness. It doesn’t come, per se.

“In my educated opinion, I think we need to fuck again. To ascertain just what level of messiness we’ve reached. Can we just…postpone the other conversations?” 

“Wow. Sexy.” Trixie mutters, and Violet huffs a laugh as they see his hand reach for Katya’s knee.

Violet elbows Trixie. “She’s an old woman, her idea of dirty talk is probably sending a carrier pigeon.” It’s weak, Violet knows, but Trixie laughs anyway and the golden line of his throat suddenly transfixes Violet. They want to bite it, so they do.

“Children,” Katya hums, before standing up and grabbing both of their hands. They follow her into Trixie’s bedroom. Like before, Katya is so effortlessly and undeniably in control of this physical relationship, regardless of her internal tumult. Her hands are connecting the three of them, and Violet has a sudden, absurd desire to grab Trixie’s hand as well and form a circle, like they’re about to form a ritual. Please, god of polyamory, let this work out. They feel Trixie’s eyes on them, and give in to the urge to look at him. His eyes are pretty. It seems such a stupid, trivial thing to think. And Violet’s not used to sex meaning this much. They don’t know if they like it. But still, they trace Trixie’s flushed cheek with a finger. They wonder if Katya’s enjoying the contrast in their skin tones as they press a soft kiss to his lips. Violet’s taller than both of them, uses it to their advantage as they press Trixie against the bed, other hand still clinging to Katya. They break the kiss and Trixie smiles sweetly, softly, privately. He’s let go of Katya’s hand at some point, and Violet uses the opportunity to grab Katya’s face in both of their hands.

“Close your eyes,” they whisper. Katya does, and Violet kisses her gently on both eyelids and then on her mouth. Because this is what Violet’s good at, they’re good at taking control and calling the shots. Violet knows what people want, and sometimes they give it to them. They can tell that Katya wants this, more than she’s ever wanted Violet on their own. The thought should sting a little, but it doesn’t. Trixie’s sat on the bed, watching, and Violet feels Katya reach down blindly to grab his hand. This feels important, jarringly so.

Let us take care of you, let us hold you, let us be soft with you.

Violet breaks away from Katya, whose eyes are still closed. They make an odd picture, Trixie sat on the bed holding Katya’s hand, Violet looming over her.

“Tell us what you want,” Violet says quietly, hates saying the words because they like to know, not ask.

Katya is silent for a few moments.

“Tell us what you need.” Trixie’s voice is gravelly and rough, and fuck it’s turning Violet on. They’re hard, aware of the fact that there’s more than likely a significant damp patch on Trixie’s borrowed pants.

“I want…Vi, baby, I wanna see you ride Trixie.”

Violet smirks. “I can do that.”

“Ugh, topping,” Trixie rolls his eyes. Violet relinquishes Katya, approaches Trixie steadily and sits on his lap. “You’ll like it, promise.”

Trixie kisses them then, all vestiges of softness gone. His teeth scrape their tongue, and this is it, this is Violet’s fucking game. They grind slowly on his lap, feeling him harden, and then climb off him. Trixie whines through his teeth, desperate.

“You’re such a brat, Tracy,” Violet grins. “Get on the bed.”

Trixe pushes himself back as Violet crawls over to him. Teasingly, they run their hands down his chest, down his still clothed dick, barely touching. Violet’s always loved irritating Trixie, and now they know it comes with the delightful image of him writhing and sweaty and needy, and oh man is Violet going to use that against him.

“Play nice, Vi,” Katya’s voice comes from the edge of the bed. She’s still stood there, watching.

“Take off your clothes, Kat. I think Trixie needs some help.” Katya obeys, makes light work of her clothes and clambers up the bed. She pauses for a second before leaning down and kissing Trixie. Violet sits back on their heels to watch Katya deepen the kiss as Trixie’s hands come to grip her shoulders. They think Katya might be crying, but it could just be the light. Violet usually saves their emotional and sexual trysts for late at night. Morning sunshine is still streaming in through the crack in Trixie’s curtains. Trixie and Katya are so clearly absorbed in each other, in this wanting that’s plagued them for how many years. Violet watches them with a touch of jealousy and a pang of desire. Katya’s got her hands down Trixie’s pants now, tugging him gently. Trixie breaks away, and Violet thinks he might be crying, too. But it could just be the light.

“Stop, Kat, stop,” he says softly, and Violet might just leave now, might just walk away and not come back because all of a sudden this feels like too much. Katya pauses.

“Violet, I want to – just, come here.” Violet loves him again in that split second. “Kiss Katya.”

Katya’s eyes are bright when she looks up, but there’s a certain steel in her gaze and she kisses Violet, knees still on either side of Trixie’s torso. This is familiar territory, Katya’s lips are an old friend and Violet grips her hip, kisses her deeper. Katya’s softly grinding down on Trixie’s stomach, and he’s whining.

Violet breaks away, pushes Katya off Trixie gently, and gets to work undressing him. Katya is tugging at their tank and Violet pulls off their sweatpants. Trixie’s hard, and Violet can’t resist taking him into their mouth, revels in that fucking whine, in Trixie’s hands in their hair, in the fact that Trixie is kind of a little bitch. Violet smirks around his cock. They’re a little bitch, too. They pull off him to see Katya stroking herself slowly, condoms and lube by her knee.

“Wait, wait,” Trixie keens. Violet pauses, about to slide the condom onto him. He leans over, grabs Katya’s hand from where it’s resting on her dick. Slowly, he takes two of her fingers and sucks them gently. Katya’s eyes are wide as she watches him. He releases her, and grins snarkily up at Violet. “Kat, can you get Violet ready?” Violet loves this, falls to their hands and knees as Katya presses up behind them, circles their hole with one finger before pushing in slowly. Katya’s fucking her slowly. “More,” Violet demands, and Katya obliges with another finger. Violet presses back eagerly, and feels the vibrations of her laugh.

“I think you’re good,” Katya says, withdrawing her hand. Violet keens at the loss, leans over to put the condom on Trixie. Slowly, they clamber onto him, sinking down. It’s Trixie’s eyes on theirs, his mouth forming a delightful little ‘o’. It’s Katya’s heavy breaths next to him, the sound of skin on skin. It’s Katya’s hand on them. It’s all of it, overwhelming and so fucking right that tips Violet over the edge, spilling onto Trixie’s chest and Katya’s hand. Trixie follows a few seconds later, strung out and flushed. Katya is still jerking herself, harder tugs now, Trixie and Violet watching her hungrily. She pauses, and looks up at them both with a desperation Violet recognises.

“Touch me.” It’s a command more than a question, but there’s a please in there somewhere. Violet slides off Trixie with a hiss and flicks Katya’s hand away from herself. Trixie joins her seconds later, jerking in tandem.

“I want to hear you, baby,” Trixie says quietly, mirroring Katya’s own words back to her, and she comes with a strangled groan. The three of them sit heavily on the bed, sticky, chests heaving. A car horn beeps loudly outside as the sounds of the city filter in. In Trixie’s bedroom, however, there’s still a tangible silence, heavy and cloying like overripe peaches. Violet rubs an arm over their eyes, hands still sticky.

“Shower?”

Trixie nods and runs his thumb over Katya’s bottom lip. She’s smiling softly, eyes far away, as if she’s so focussed on this moment that she’s lost it somehow. They climb off the bed and Violet turns on the shower, watching Katya and Trixie squeeze in afterwards. It’s cramped, clearly, but Trixie and Katya are both so fucking hot and Violet wants to die, slightly, wants to touch them both and be touched in return. Once they’re clean (mostly, Violet isn’t sure packing three adults into an average sized shower is particularly cohesive to cleanliness), Trixie throws them both towels. Violet dries themself off quickly, and wanders out of the room naked. They know Trixie and Katya are both watching, and settles cross legged on the sofa. Katya and Trixie both emerge in boxers, and Violet rolls their eyes at the middle aged dad-ness of it all.

“So, this is where we talk.”

Katya lets out a suffering groan and collapses on the couch, head on Violet’s naked thigh. Trixie settles down on the floor, a mirror image to Violet on the couch.

He sighs, lets out a whistle through his teeth.

“I’ll go first.”

[wr8tur]

SUPERGIRL RANT TIME 6

During one of my rants, I questioned why Kara would fall in love with Mon. Perhaps because Kryptonian’s have been painted as xenophobes themselves she feels guilty over the crimes of her people.

“We accept the love we deserve.” -The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

This is true for Kara’s sake. It certainly explains why she’s with Mon-El. Perhaps the guilt over the Medusa virus, about being racist toward Daxamites, about Jeremiah, about Alex feeling the need to take care of her, and whatever else she’s torturing herself with has driven her to believe that she deserves to be treated like shit.

Maybe she even feels guilt toward Daxamites and that’s why she tried so hard to stereotype Mon-El in the beginning, so she could mask her guilt since it was Krypton’s fault that Daxamites lost their planet as well.

But then again, no offense to the writers, I don’t think they have the capacity to make these inferences. So far they’ve been direct in their intention to name Mon El as a blossoming hero worthy of Kara’s love, which is a problem because he hasn’t really done anything to prove that he’s a hero to anyone but Kara. And we know he’s only saving Kara because he “loves” her.

And I suppose the intention is to make us swoon because here comes a big strong man, ready to help Supergirl out of whatever jam she’s in.

But like I said, Supergirl already has a team to help. She has the DEO, Alex, and Martian Manhunter saving her half the time but since because a strong man who wants to have sex with her has come in, we’re supposed to see him as some knight in shinning armor?

That is literally the only difference between Alex and J’onn saving Kara versus Mon saving Kara. They get to share that cheesy kiss at the end.

Actually, he’s the prince who kisses the girl.

What fresh Disney hell are they trying to pull? I thought they were trying to be different. I thought this show was about women empowerment, not some a romance show that’s supposed to cater to the hearts and minds of the tweens inside us?

If that was the case, they really should have made Supergirl a teenager instead of an educated young woman in her mid twenties.

Because Kara needs someone who can stand up to her (not insult her when they’re mad) and for her and Mon El is not that person. All he’s done this season is to yell and lie and remind everyone he’s from Daxam and not Krypton so he doesn’t believe the same things that Kara does.

If he truly wanted to be a hero, he should have continued training with Kara but what does he do after Kara rejects him? Tries to get into someone else’s pants.

I guess this is the character Kara feels she deserves. If that’s the case, she truly does have low self esteem and is not fit to be a role model for anyone. Because I understand forgiving someone, but like I said before, the right thing to have done was to forgive Mon El for lying but not take him back.

Because honestly, he did a super shitty thing, and if it was the first time he ever did something like that, I wouldn’t have gotten angry with Kara forgiving him.

The thing is, this is a habit for Mon and Kara.

Mon lies and Kara forgives. This type of relationship is not healthy at all. And to be honest, the rest of Kara’s relationships this season have been sort of toxic as well.

Alex has been completely focused on Maggie, with the exception of Jeremiah’s return, which I understand honeymoon phase but she’s supposed to be the over protective big sister? And what does she do? She basically hands Kara off to Mon, a guy she doesn’t even know because they haven’t even spent any time together. She hasn’t even made an attempt to get to know him, just thrust Kara his way and basically hoped Kara can sort her own shit out.

At least with James, she knows he has history with Clark so I can understand why she’s more relenting about Kara entering a relationship with Superman’s best friend.

But Mon El was a complete stranger who talked down to her sister, even if he does have a point, I wouldn’t let my sister go out with a jackass who dishonors her just to prove he’s right. I would want her to be with someone who supports her, not just someone who has the ability to fly in and save her from physical harm. I would want Kara to be with someone who would prioritize Kara the way Alex used to.

Besides, wouldn’t Alex’s character in the first season been more thorough about the introduction of a stranger in Kara’s life?

I feel like she’d have thoroughly checked out what kind of person he is, prevent Kara from telling him who she really is since they don’t know anything about him, just that he’s a Daxamite. And since Daxamites weren’t painted in a pretty light, shouldn’t Alex have been more wary of him? Instead they just let Kara take him on because he just landed and he didn’t have anyone else?

And then Alex basically said Mon influences Kara when she got mad about the Jermiah thing. That means, deep down, she believes Mon is capable of doing/thinking shitty things yet she’s okay with Kara being with him?

Honestly, I’m just reiterating my earlier statement that Alex is just handing Kara off to someone she feels can keep Kara busy………

James and Winn want to be heroes and don’t understand why they don’t have Kara’s support. Hello? The girl lost her entire planet, everyone she loves, her adoptive father, and her sister constantly puts her life on the line, and you’re wondering why she doesn’t support you being New Batman and Oracle?

Do they not know what Kara’s been through?

It seems like she’s been purposely disregarded by the SuperCrew so Mon can sweep her off her feet. Which I know was the premise for my fanfiction, Winning Ways, but I got the idea off the fact that the writers isolated Kara from everyone.

Besides, my Lena wouldn’t be so controlling with Kara. In all my writings and it’s canon on the show too, Lena treats Kara with respect. Yes, she may go out of her way to make things happen to make sure that Kara’s all hers, but she can back up her actions using whatever resources she has.

Lena’s supportive of Kara, doesn’t try to change her, just offers a difference of view to let Kara see it’s not entirely black and white.

She shows Kara the gray area which Kara desperately needs. She challenges Kara’s beliefs, not by arguing or debasing her character, but through intellectual conversations that aren’t solely rooted to emotional outbursts.

Kara’s an emotional being. We all know that. The fact that Mon is one too just makes their relationship implosive.

Rational Lena with emotional Kara is more appealing to me rather than the misogynist Daxamite vs feminist Kryptonian because it isn’t a race issue. It’s a completely emotional issue, one that’s driven by who they are at their core, not by what they were raised to be.

It’s regressive to suddenly reduce Kara to just having Kryptonian ideals because at this point, Kara’s been exposed to Earth almost as long as she’s been exposed to Krypton. As an immigrant who migrated from a different country to another at the age of ten, I’ve managed to retain information/beliefs of my birth culture and adapted/absorbed to my current culture.

To put it simply, Kara’s not just Kryptonian anymore. True, she’s more Kryptonian than Clark but she’s got Earth in her as well.

Kara’s been influenced by humans as much as Kryptonian’s because if she were truly Kryptonian she’d have her parents mindset that Kryptonian’s are superior and therefore would think less of humans.

Instead she craves their love.

Point is, Mon really hasn’t changed because he’s still forcing his way into Kara’s life and the writers are horrible for the musical episode, for letting viewers basically perpetuate the belief that if you’re the good guy then you have to forgive and that if a person lies to you because they love you it’s okay and if you don’t forgive them, then you’re the biggest bitch ever.

Holding onto anger makes you human.

Forgiving a person for constantly degrading your character and lying to you about everything makes you stupid.

Like honestly, so many people on the show lie. In the first season, J’onn lied to everyone by hiding the fact that he’s a Martian. Alex even started off lying to Kara, not telling her what she really does. Kara lies every day because she won’t tell people she’s Supergirl. Maggie lied about her relationship with her parents and her ex. James and Winn lied about the Guardian thing. Mon is the biggest liar of them all but that’s okay because he’s easy on the eyes.

The main moral of the show is it’s okay to hide the truth if you have good intentions. It’s okay to insult and degrade someone as long as you simply apologize at the end and that there are no consequences to your actions.

Honestly, I won’t be surprised if Lena turns out to be a liar as well.