#but just don't let it consume you okay nons? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jayparked · 23 days ago

Text

relief switch | sim jaeyun | m

pairing: switch! sim jaeyun x switch! female reader

genre: smut

au: established relationship

rating: explicit/18+, minors dni

word count: 7k

sexual warnings: switch/soft dom jake and switch y/n, oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, head pusher jake, unprotective sex, non penetrative and penetrative sex, whiny jake, begging, swearing, slight size kink???, thigh riding, hair pulling, lots of praise (praise kink???), spanking, naked dry humping(??? idk what else to call it), pet names (useful girl, sweet boy, good boy/girl, sweetheart, babe, baby, my love etc i practically used them all), body worship, marking, biting, edging, choking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, creampie, a bit of nipple play, roleplay for like .02 seconds, lots of moaning/whimpering/whining, a smidge of degradation, jake is down horrendous, they're so in love it makes me sick, good aftercare :]

a/n: sorry idk what demon possessed me. also shoutout to my best friend @sungbeams this one is for you ♡ and no i am not jayunki biased i dont wanna hear it anymore k thanks ♡

Groans and jangling keys fill your small apartment as you and your boyfriend return home from your prospective jobs at the same time. No words are spoken as you both remove your shoes, throwing them haphazardly with a pout towards the shoe stand near the front entryway. Neither of you bothers to turn on the light, leaving your apartment in a calming darkness as the sun sets outside.

“Today sucked.” Jake finally breaks the silence, leaning against the front door. His eyes shut for a moment as he loosens his tie from his neck.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you grumble, hanging up your jacket and sticking your hand out for his without a glance.

He hands it to you with a sigh. “I’m honestly in a terrible mood. Just a fair warning in case I say something a little mean. I just genuinely do not have an ounce of joy in my body right now.”

Normally, you would be comforting your boyfriend without letting another moment pass by; guiding him to the plump couch and putting on his favorite show, making him his favorite food, snuggling up with him and whispering sweet words in his ear while you run your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. It’s a foolproof plan for when he’s having a bad day or just needs some extra comfort.

But, like him, you also do not feel even an ounce of happiness in your own body. And a part of you feels guilty for not being able to swallow it down so you can be there for him properly.

Noticing the difference in your behavior, Jake straightens himself, tilting his head to the side while he looks at you with furrowed brows.

“You okay, babe? Work doesn’t usually get to you like this. Do you want to talk about it?” He speaks to you with a low softened voice, despite his earlier proclamation.

Vigorously, you shake your head. “It’s just dumb stuff and I know I’m overreacting slightly. I just…I don't know…I kinda wanna just be in a bad mood? Does that make sense?” you chuckle, “I know it sounds dumb but-“

“No, I get it,” stepping towards you, Jake pinches your chin gently between his thumb and pointer finger, “Hell, take it out on me if you need to.”

It might be the way his thumb is lingering along your jawline now, hovering so his skin is only slightly grazing against yours, or the way his eyes darken as he looks at your lips, but something in his words sounds more like a plea than a simple comedic suggestion.

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, trying your best not to convey how instantaneously he takes over your mind and body. It’s dizzying the way he looks you up and down, consuming how you can feel the heat from every slight touch of his hand.

“How would you like me to take it out on you?” You question with a lowered voice, tilting your head down slightly to flick your eyes more up at him, batting your eye lashes in a way you know he can’t resist.

His thumb stops moving just below your bottom lip where his eyes also rest. “Well, depends on the type of day you had. Do you need to let out your anger? Pretend I’m your boss and raise your voice, say some absurd things? Or do you need to feel useful?” The more he talks, the lower his tone and volume go, his voice growing softer while his speech slows. To make it worse, at the end of his sentence he releases your lips from his gaze, his deep brown eyes flicking up ever so slightly to meet your own. And you instantly become putty in his hands.

“Useful,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the side to avoid the smirk you know is displayed on his handsome face.

“Oh, I can put you to use, my love. Knees. Now.” Jake commands with a snap of his finger before pointing it down at the ground and using his other hand to give your bottom lip a quick swipe with his thumb.

“Right here? In the entryway? What about the bedro-“

“I thought,” he cuts you off, removing his hand from your face to slowly start undoing his belt, “you wanted,” the belt’s on the floor, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks, “to be,” his eyes are locked on yours, “useful,” he growls.

Placing a hand on the back of your head, he leans you forward, giving you a swift tender kiss on the forehead before pushing your head down.

You fall to your knees quickly, your hands sliding down his torso until they rest at his hips where his slacks are barely hanging on by his growing bulge that you’re now eye level with.

Between clenched teeth and a sharp inhale of his breath, Jake commands, “Don’t make me have to ask you twice.”

Your hands move without any further hesitation to push his slacks and underwear down from his hips, his hardened member bouncing at the release of the constraints. How is he already this hard? Jake’s weeping cock is already fully stiff and alert, a small bead of precum glistening at his tip, begging for contact.

Looking straight up at your man, wanting to hold his gaze, you stick your tongue out and give him a long lick from the base of his member to just below the bulbous part of his tip. Jake’s head falls back against the door, his eyes fluttering to the back of his head as one of his hands reaches for your hair. He strokes it gently at first before giving a warning tug.

“Please,” he whines softly with an airy gasp, eyes still closed, “not today. Don’t tease me today, Y/n.”

Even though he’s not looking, you still smile up at him fondly. Just for a moment, savoring the desperate look on his face before swirling your tongue along his tip.

Jake’s body trembles, mouth open slightly as he sucks in a breath. Then suddenly, he opens his eyes. They narrow down at you with a darkness that loudly tells you he is not planning on warning you again. Jake places both of his hands around your head, palms brushing your temples as he lines your mouth to his cock.

You hold his eye contact as you open your mouth and wait for him.

You don’t have to wait long. Jake has never been the patient type. And when it comes to you sucking him off? He was never really good at playing around and teasing and for sure did not like to have that patience tested.

Slowly, but steadily, Jake pushes himself into your mouth until your nose brushes his abdomen. Stifling a gag, you moan against his body and try to maintain your focus. His entire body shivers as he holds you in place, hands still cupping your face lightly as your eyes flutter shut. It takes everything in you to try to remember to breathe through your nose, or really, to remember to breathe at all. Which seems ridiculous but, in this moment, every cell of your body is consumed by him.

Jake’s head falls back against the doorframe yet again, an intense inhale goes in through his nose and his lips form in a tight line. He may have tried to contain his moans but couldn’t suppress a deep, guttural groan from ripping out deep within his throat.

“Fuuuckkk, baby. How do you always take me so well?” His thumbs brush at the tears welling up under your eyes, a soft, fond smile forming on his face.

The softness of his features only lasts for a moment before he starts moving his hips with a perfect cadence, relentlessly fucking your throat.

“That’s my good, useful girl,” Jake slowly groans. With each thrust that has him hitting the back of your throat, you try to focus on your breathing even more. Your goal is to not gag, no matter how much your body wants to, no matter how much you know he would love it. He’s claimed in the past that hearing you gag on him alone gives him an insane ego boost. But feeling it? Oh he couldn’t contain himself. Knowing he’s too big for his perfect girl but she tries her best to please him anyways? One of the best feelings a guy could ever hope to experience.

And because of this, Jake knows exactly when you’re on the brink of hitting your limit. As much as he would love to chase his own pleasure, he’s choosing to think outside of himself and knows you need this more than he does.

One of Jake’s hands moves to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and your mouth off of his slick cock, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of your bodies together.

Jake kneels down until he’s face to face with you, holding your face in his hands as he looks in your eyes. “That’s all I needed. Now, let me get a good look at you.”

His grip makes it impossible for you to look away. All you can muster out is a slight moan in protest, your bottom lip jutting out as you furrow your eyebrows. Thumbs catching some runaway tears from under your eyes, Jake lets out a low chuckle, peppering quick kisses along your face.

“As good as you make me feel,” he starts, guiding you up to your feet and leading you towards the bedroom, “it’s not how I want to come.”

“But I barely even-”

“Shhh,” Jake abruptly pushes you up against the wall in the hallway, his lust filled eyes combing over the spots where his hands roam all over your body, “it’s okay, baby. That’s all the use I needed from you. You did amazing. Let me make you feel good now.”

Gently and slowly, at first, he kisses your lips, moving your arms so they wrap around his neck. Muscle memory has your hands interlocking in his hair at his nape, giving a slight tug which elicits a sweet groan from your man. It doesn’t take long after that for the kiss to deepen, Jake moving one his knees to press against your clothed heat. He pulls away from you briefly to look in your eyes, looks down at his knee then back up at you, giving you an encouraging nod, his eyes wide and eager, swimming with excited anticipation.

You look deeply into Jake’s eyes as you lower your core down to his thigh, holding his gaze as you slowly move yourself along his muscle. You can’t hold in the soft whine that comes out as you finally feel some friction on your needy clit. Jake loves and hates when you hold eye contact and moan like this, claiming it’s an unfair use of power. He shakes slightly under your touch, gripping your hips tightly enough to surely leave some marks. He tries to hold your eye contact, but can’t help as his eyes roll back, his body moving closer to yours to grind with you.

“Fuuckkk, baby,” Jake lulls out, “you really needed me this badly?” He continues to grip your hips, now guiding you along his thigh. His assistance reveals his own desperation. Jake pushes you down harder against him while simultaneously moving you back and forth at a faster pace. Pretty little desperate whines come out of him as he stares hazeley at your lips.

“Mmmm, sweet boy, look at you. So desperate to make me feel good, hm?” It was hard to talk like this in this position you’re in. Too easy it would be to give into your boyfriend’s ministrations, too easy it would be to give in to your own wants and pleasures.

“Please use me now.” Jake’s grip on your hips tighten. Your wincing muddles amongst his moans as he grinds you harder against his thigh.

“Please, baby,” he begs again, his yearning glossed over eyes meet your gaze once more. A lightning shock shoots down to your already throbbing core, “Please need me.”

That is your last straw.

“Oh my- I need you so badly, Jake. I can't take this teasing foreplay anymore. I need to feel you inside me. Baby, please.”

Switch flipping yet again, Jake doesn’t hesitate and wraps both of your legs around his waist, now carrying you to the bedroom while you feverishly kiss along his neck and jawline, leaving a pretty trail of love marks as you go.

He walks towards the room with long confident strides, holding you up easily with one hand as he opens the door. And once you’re both inside, he closes the door behind him with a simple kick of his foot, not even bothering to look back as he does so.

Laying you down softly on the bed, Jake’s jaw clenches as he works to fully undress himself. As he’s unbuttoning his shirt, he smiles softly at you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours yet again. The kiss is soft, delicate, as his fingers continue to work against the stiff buttons of his shirt. Your body relaxes against the kiss, your mouths molding together with familiarity, tongues swimming messily with each other in a familiar dance.

Finally, his top is fully undone but he doesn’t take it off. As for his pants, he’s long forgotten those somewhere near the front door of your shared apartment. Jake doesn’t hesitate with removing your clothes, practically ripping them from your body. He’s fueled by his need to see you naked and needs to see you now.

Your chest rises even faster as your skin is now exposed, your boyfriend taking a moment to marvel at your physic.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he grumbles as he gets on all fours, crawling on the bed until he’s hovering over you, using one hand to pump his length a few times for good measure. He bites his bottom lip as he looks down at himself and back up at you, the sparkle in his eyes all too telling how excited he is to dive right in and ruin you.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” He holds himself at your entrance, body frozen in place as he looks into your eyes with those big pleading puppy dog eyes of his that always has you on your knees. You could never say no to him when he looks at you like this. How he manages to look so adorable and sexy at the same time will forever be a mystery to you.

“If we wait any longer I might actually lose my mind,” you huff, leaning forward to cup both of your hands on his cheeks, pulling him forward into a savory deep kiss. Jake’s eyes immediately flutter shut as you guide him down with you, his lips hungrily chasing after your own. Before your head even hits the pillows, Jake blindly inserts his tip inside your cunt, the sensation making you gasp against him.

Jake chuckles against your mouth, taking the chance to quickly pepper sweet kisses around your entire face. “Hmm? Didn’t think I’d be able to do it without looking? Darling I know your body better than anyone else. I could find this pussy anywhere.” The confident smirk on his face pulls you in even deeper to his charms.

His words make you clench around him, making your boyfriend wince slightly.

“So tight. Even though it’s just my tip. I guess I should have taken the time to prep you properly. I’m sorry, darling, this might sting.”

And, without another word, Jake pushes himself forward, his cock sliding into you painfully slow. Each inch stretching you further and further as your body desperately tries to adjust as quickly as it can. A mix between a choked moan and a gasp leaves your lips while Jake turns his head to the side to sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, small whimpers coming from him in return.

Wanting to hear more from him, you take one hand and intertwine your fingers in his wavy black locks, tugging slightly so his head is lifted from the crook of your neck. Now that he’s facing you, you can properly look him in the eyes while he whimpers again, this time from the tugging on his scalp. Jake’s bottom lip juts out at you, his puppy eyes are back, pleading for something unknown to you.

Despite his pouty demeanor, Jake is still rocking his hips back and forth, pounding into you at a satiable rhythm. The dynamic between you two might seem confusing to anyone on the outside looking in, but the satisfaction from being with someone who’s both submissive and dominant all at the same time is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Plus, it allows you the space to give the same in return. Taking turns between caring for each others needs to then be the one receiving fulfills you in more ways than you can even begin to explain.

“Aw don’t give me those eyes, pretty boy. You know how it makes me melt,” you sigh, eyes rolling back as you roll your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Let me leave marks on you then.” Jake doesn’t wait for a response. He quickly grabs your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly before sucking. Words completely escape your brain as he releases you, smirking before diving back down against your neck. Your brain starts to feel dizzy as he adjusts his hips, fixing the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly to where he knows he’ll hit your g-spot. He nips at the flesh below your ear, right in the spot that sends chills down your entire body. At this point, your clit is throbbing and it’s your turn to become a pouty, moany mess.

“Use your words, Y/n,” Jake chuckles against your neck, giving one last bite before flatting his tongue on the sensitive area.

When he doesn’t hear you say anything in response to his command, he sits himself up so he’s looking in your eyes. One of his eyebrows quirks up, waiting for your response. When you still won’t give it to him, he stops his languid movements and slowly pulls himself out of you with a tsk tsk tsk.

“I know you know better than to ignore me.” He licks his lips slowly and leans forward, his face now hovering directly over yours. Your chest is rising and falling quickly, not realizing how out of breath you were from only such a short time of contact with him. Jake’s head tilts to the side, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as his impatience takes over. Suddenly, one of his hands is lingering over your throat, his thumb lightly brushing against your esophagus.

“Now, beautiful. Why are we being so stubborn all of a sudden? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He releases your throat by moving his hand upward just a bit, his thumb moves along your jawline then up some more to trace along the outside of your bottom lip. Tingles and chills naturally erupt throughout your body with every soft touch he leaves on your skin. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed since you two have been together, Jake still has this unwavering affect on your mind, body and soul. Subconsciously your body communicates with his, going well beyond needing words at times.

But that doesn’t mean Jake doesn’t want to hear them still.

“I know you want something. It’s so easy to tell with the way you’re moaning and the way your hips are bucking up against me. Just say the words and it’s yours.”

It’s stupid to try to compete with him. No matter how hard of a stubborn fight you could try to conjure up, Jake always wins.

Always.

“I want you to play with my clit while you fuck me,” you whine, drawing out the last syllables in an unmistakably ‘you can’t say no to me’ way, shaking your shoulders, closing your eyes and jutting out your lower lip for extra affect. He might be the one to win every time it comes to stubbornness, but no one can deny the fight you put up when it comes to pouting, begging, and pleading.

“Ugh, baby don’t give me that look, please,” Jake rolls off of you, now on his back beside you with one arm covering his eyes, “I just want to hear you say what you want. I love listening to your demands. It's so sexy when you tell me what you need.”

“Would it be even sexier if I just do it?”

Jake moves his arm slightly to look at you with a questioning yet excited gaze. His hesitation and agape mouth is all the answer you needed.

Without letting another second pass, in one swift motion you’re now on top of him; both legs straddling either side of his thighs and your core hovering dangerously close to his cock.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands up in the air somewhat similar to a surrender pose. Jake’s eyes dart all across your body, genuinely not knowing what to do. His mind races with all the places he wants to put his hands on you, all the things he wants to do and say to you. It’s happening so fast that he’s stuck in a frozen state.

You place one hand confidently on his chest, making sure he stays put. It’s your turn to hover your face over his, taunting him with what looks like is going to be a kiss, but you pull back at the last second, smirking at the dumbfounded look on your boyfriend’s face.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” You tease.

“Oh yes, I have,” he nods quickly, eyes wide as he licks his lips hungrily, his hands now resting comfortably (and cockily) behind his head, “but I think I could still use a demonstration.”

With a smirk, you lean down and kiss his plump lips. It’s slow and intentional, setting the pace of not wanting to get too lost in the moment. After a few languid exchanges, you lower your hips down until finally, finally, your still sopping cunt makes contact with his length. You know he expects you to be just as impatient as him, to just grind against him a couple times before finally letting him back inside you.

But that would just be too easy.

You slowly start to grind against him, moving back and forth slowly. You press down harder against him when you get close to his tip, making the poor boy moan louder and louder each time you do so. Almost immediately your slick is coating him, the friction now even more satisfying the more you grind against him.

“Ugh…Y/n…baby…put me in already,” he begs, his eyes clenched tightly shut, “Put me in so I can start playing with your clit like you wanted.” Beads of sweat start to trickle down his temples, his cheeks flushed a glowing shade of pink. You silently ignore his pleas, wordlessly picking up your pace and pressure. Jake’s hands fly to your hips, nails digging into your skin at a satisfying grip. At first, you thought he was going to attempt to stop your movements. But, to your amusement, he’s only assisting you more. He guides your hips along his length while bucking his hips upward. You’re desperately trying to revel in the absolute mess of a sight your boyfriend is below you, but the friction against your clit is getting harder and harder to ignore. Jake’s eyes are still shut tight, his bottom lip now quivering as a slew of please’s and an array of petnames leave those pretty lips of his. At this point, your brain is so hazy you can’t even make out anything he’s saying.

Eyes focusing on those quivering lips, you lean in once again, this time more hungry and desperate than before. Going straight for that bottom lip of his, you pull it between your teeth, groaning with him as you feel his cock twitch between your other lips.

“Baby, please. If you don’t slow down I’m going to come.” His legs are starting to tremble beneath you as he desperately tries to find relief and restraint in the same action. His composure is cracking more and more.

And you only want to do as you're told.

So, with a smirk, you slow your pace to a painstakingly slow one. From quick and harsh movements to slow, drawn out romantic ones, Jake is immediately regretting his word choice.

If it’s any consolation at all, it’s just as torturous for you as it is for him. The moans and whines you’ve been trying to trap within yourself are letting loose and competing with the whimpering man beneath you. The longer you draw this out, the harder it is for you to keep your own composure, quickly forgetting the punchline to the joke you’re playing on him.

“Fu-fuck, oh my god. I can’t- I can’t take this anymore, baby. Please, let me come. I need to come,” he pleads with a shaking voice, head thrown back against the pillows so that the muscles in his neck strain. In this position he’s proudly displaying the bright love marks you’ve left along his delicate skin. Seeing those marks ignites something truly primal within you, knowing that he is all yours and everyone, stranger or familiar, will know it without a doubt. Jake always wears your marks proudly after the fact too, claiming that if anyone has an issue with it they’re just immature and jealous that he gets fucked so well and they don’t. It’s a part of what makes marking him up even more arousingly special. Plus, it’s not like he doesn’t do the same to you. The running joke at both of your places of employment is that whenever either of you come in with a new scarf or turtle neck it’s to maintain what little bit of professionalism you have left. But if anyone asks about it…neither you nor Jake are shy of pulling down the garments and displaying the pretty bruises in any coloring stage they may currently be in.

“You want to come now?” You finally speak up. Jake’s muscles start to twitch all throughout his body at the sound of your sultry tone. You watch as he bites down on his bottom lip hard, gripping your hips even tighter as he desperately tries to hang on for just a little bit longer.

Jake finally opens his eyes to give you that irresistible pleading stare. “Yes, please.”

“Such a needy boy, all ready to come without even being inside of me,” you coo and Jake just whimpers in response. You lean your head down next to his ear, making sure he feels the warmth of your shaky breath as you tell your sweet boy to come for you, eliciting a quick bite on his earlobe.

Of course, you do this while guiding your cunt only along the tip of his cock now, thankfully (in Jake’s mind at least) picking up speed once again. Jake’s mouth falls open in the perfect ‘O’ shape, his moans coming out in gasps and he looks in your eyes. Mere moments later you feel his cock spasm beneath you, his hips bucking up as he sits up slightly, spurts of cum shooting past your folds and onto his stomach.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him as his chest rises and falls quickly. Jake whimpers and nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, leaving soft desperate kisses where he can. In turn you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your head against his. Soft murmurs of praise and comfort leave your lips as you rub your thumb in small circles against his bare skin. You both stay like this for a moment, you not caring about the pause in intimate physical action. In your relationship, this moment of sex is the most intimate you can be with one another and it’s something you cherish deeply. Knowing that the both of you put the other person's needs and comforts before their own is something unique to you both.

The heartfelt moment doesn’t last as long as it usually does though, because before you can even blink you find yourself with your back now on the bed and Jake with a devilish smirk looming above you.

“My turn,” he snarls, grabbing your hips roughly and flipping you onto your stomach. Time isn’t wasted with your impatient man as he pulls your hips towards him, placing a hand between your shoulder blades to keep your head down.

A loud smack followed by your body wincing, Jake rubs his hand soothingly on the mound of your ass that he just spanked. He’s cooing something under his breath, but your heart beating loudly in your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s saying exactly.

You’re about to ask him to repeat himself, turning your head so you can see him properly, when he smacks his hand across your butt harder than before.

“Did I say you can move? Face back down.”

The growl in his undertone sends shivers down your spine, eyes widening as you turn back and do as you're told.

Not long after that you feel three of Jake’s fingers push deep into your cunt, pistoning in and out at an insane speed, especially considering he hasn’t properly warmed you up.

You cry out in surprise, gasping into the bedsheets while the friction and lack of proper build up confuses your body. All the tension from before blooms inside you and you can't believe you’re already feeling that white heat about to burst inside you.

“You’re already clenching around my fingers,” Jake chuckles in surprise, not relenting on his speed as he continues to scissor his digits inside of you, “oh my poor needy baby, you’re absolutely soaking me.”

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of anything to hold onto your sanity. You absolutely cannot come this quickly, you’ll never hear the end of it from Jake. You wouldn’t put it past him to brag to everyone and anyone he knows about it too, it must be some kind of record, right? Making your girlfriend come in less than a minute? Maybe even less than thirty seconds? Yeah there’s no way you can let him have this one. But fuck, he really knows how to curl those fingers perfectly within you, beckoning your release with aggressive tender strokes.

Tears prick your eyes and you can’t stay still, grasping at the bedsheets frantically while you try to adjust your body to avoid the inevitable.

“Not so funny when the tables are turned, huh?” Jake chuckles menacingly, speeding up his pace and flicking his thumb against your throbbing clit. It feels like he’s about to split you in two with his fingers alone and your entire body is at war with itself – unsure if it loves the contact or wants to get away.

“As soon as you come I’ll give you my cock again. That’s all you gotta do.” He states plainly, almost nonchalantly, eyes focused as he watches his fingers drill in and out of your hole, unknowingly pushing you right over the edge and perfectly into his trap.

Everything blurs as your release erupts. Moans of pleasure and surprise fill the room while Jake grabs ahold of your hips, rooting you in place.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. Just needed to hear my voice to get you to come undone, hmm?” His one hand roams over the mound of your ass while he murmurs to you, fingers still languidly pumping in and out of you. Your muscles are finally starting to relax, legs still shaking as your breath catches up with you. Just as you’re about to collapse into the bed, Jake says one word that has your eyes opening wide in surprise.

“Ready?”

You open your mouth to ask ‘Ready for what?’ but before you can get the words out your cunt is deliciously stretched, now filled to the brim with your boyfriend’s throbbing cock.

“Ah-aahhh,” Jake sighs, “you’re still so tight holy shit.”

You jolt forward as you feel his tip kiss the edges of your walls. Pulsing around him, you’re still sore from the damage his fingers did just moments before. Jake’s hands move from your hips and roam your body, admiring everything about you as he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. His hair tickles between your shoulder blades as he leans forward to plant chaste kisses across your skin, groans singing out between each one that he leaves. His cock twitches inside of you and you know it’s taking everything in him to keep calm and still. Even his breathing is becoming rigid and off beat.

Wordlessly, he lifts himself up and slowly pulls himself away from you until just his tip is inside. It’s like you can hear his brain churning with thoughts and ideas, but you know his brain fog can get just as bad as yours and he’s probably lost in the moment.

Now that you’ve had a taste of him, though, you’re not letting him off so easily.

“Jaakkeeee,” you whine, wiggling your ass slightly to get his attention, which only backfires and makes your body flinch with the feeling of him still partially inside of you.

“I’m trying not to go crazy here.” He laughs. You turn your head to look over your shoulder and see your boyfriend's eyes glued to where you’re both connected.

With a warning bite to your tone, you mutter his name again and he groans in response, biting down hard on his bottom lip before chuckling to himself.

“Alright. You asked for it.” He snaps his hips forward and slams his cock deep into you again. Instead of starting a slow rhythmic pace he thrusts quick and hard. Your body is pressed firmly into the mattress with the way he’s holding you down, his grip stronger than you��ve ever felt in the past.

The pace he’s set is dizzying, pounding you deep into the mattress as the sounds of your squelching wetness fills the room. Your body doesn’t even get a chance to fully appreciate the bliss he’s bringing you before your system is shocked again and again and again.

“Gonna fuck you till you’re good and dumb, all you’ll be able to say is my name,” he grunts, giving a deep smack to your ass before grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth with his thrusts.

Normally you’d giggle at him in response, but fuck he might actually be fucking you stupid. Moans, whines, and his name is truly all your lips can form. You want to scream out how good he’s making you feel, but each time his cock slams against your sweet spot your eyes roll to the back of your head and you lose any coherent thought that was trying to form inside your brain.

None of it goes unnoticed, of course. Jake is a very observant and attentive boyfriend in every sense.

“What? Five seconds with my dick inside you and you lose your mind? Who knew you would be such a cock hungry little slut.”

“Just…just for you.” Is all you manage to gasp out knowing how much Jake loves to hear how you only go crazy for him.

“Fuck.” His thrusts quicken despite his already relentless pace. Jake pulls your hips upwards ever so slightly, but it’s enough to change the angle, his tip now hitting a perfect bullseye against your sweet spot. The force of his body slamming into yours doesn’t give you a chance. Before you know it, you’re coming undone yet again, body shaking as you gush all over his cock.

“You’re coming so quickly tonight, baby. Work really has had you all pent up. Don’t worry, just hang on a little bit longer and then you can rest, okay?” Jake kisses the spot between your shoulder blades again, one of his hands reaching around to grab at your breasts. He tweaks at your perked nipple as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven, his head resting on your back as his hips continue to snap back and forth. Small whimpers leave his lips as he chases his second release that he’s been holding onto for so long now.

“Mmm, fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he whines, lifting his head up and placing his hands back on your hips.

Three more thrusts is all he has left in him. On the final thrust he grinds his hips harshly against you, making sure his cock is as deep in your cunt as it can possibly be as he spills his seed deep within your clenching walls.

The warmth weirdly soothes you through your overstimulated body. Being full of him like this makes you feel even closer to him and it’s something you’ll never get tired of. Feeling his cock twitch relentlessly inside you is addicting, your body trembles with satiated pleasure around him, wishing this feeling never had to end.

“Fuck that was a lot,” Jake mutters to himself. You feel him spilling out of you even with his cock still stuffed inside of you. You chance a look back at your boyfriend and marvel at the sight of him; wavy hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes fluttering slightly from bliss and tiredness, and his beautifully plump lips parted slightly as he tries to regain his breath. It’s a breathtaking sight, and one you’ll never truly get used to seeing.

All too soon, Jake slowly pulls himself out of you. The loss of contact from him has you wanting to throw a mini fit, but you’re too tired to fight for it. Plus, it’s not like you’ll be feeling this emptiness for long. The likelihood of you being woken up in the middle of the night with your boyfriend between your thighs, lapping up the previous night's leftover reminiscence, is very high. Once is never enough when it comes to Sim Jaeyun.

After a moment, your boyfriend helps you flip over onto your back, nessling himself against your warm body as you try to catch your breath. Your arm wraps around him automatically, holding him as close to your beating heart as you can muster.

Silent minutes pass by. Both of your chests finally fall into a calm and matching rhythmic beat and his skin isn’t feeling as hot to the touch as it was moments ago.

With a groan, Jake sits himself up and stretches his arms over his head, letting out a satisfied sigh as he brings them back down.

Turning to you, Jake leans down and presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips quivering slightly as his body still recovers from the intense orgasm. Wobbling slightly, Jake leaves the bedroom and flicks on the bathroom light, returning in a short minute with a paper towel. Wordlessly, he tilts your chin up with a delicate hand, fingers tracing outlines of your skin as he carefully collects the sweat from your face. And he continues this down your entire body, even opening your legs to gain access so he can clean the cum from between your legs.

He leaves again, probably throwing out the paper towel, obviously. Jake doesn’t return empty handed though. Water droplets intertwine between his fingers as the condensation slips from the water bottle he has in hand. He sits down on the bed again, smiling at you softly as he uncaps the water bottle, motioning with his head for you to sit up.

You do as you're told, wincing slightly as you truly get a feel for how sore you are. Everything hurts. The muscles in your legs, your still pulsating clit, your insides, literally everything. You scoot backwards so you can rest against the headboard and reach for the water bottle in Jake’s hand. He pulls it away, shaking his head as he tells you to open your mouth.

How could you not smile slightly as you tilt your head back, water dribbling down the sides of your chin as your boyfriend giggles next to you, cupping his hand under your face to catch the escaping water, as if that would do anything.

Cheeks full of water and eyes twinkling, you take a moment to look into Jake’s eyes. Something pangs lovingly deep within your chest as you’re met with the same look of adoration on his own face. It’s a moment where it feels like time has stopped, the world spinning by as you two live comfortably in your own little world.

Jake sighs as he tilts his head, a sweet innocent smile painted on his face while his shoulders relaxe, still holding your gaze. “I love you.”

All you can do to keep yourself from getting too teary eyed is jut out your bottom lip and hold out your arms to him. Jake smiles again and crawls towards you, the water bottle now resting on the nightstand, his head finding solace on your chest while the rest of his body sits like a weighted blanket between your legs.

Like magnets, your fingers instantly go to his hair, softly running along his scalp while lightly tugging on the wavy strands. Jake sighs with relief and you just know his eyes are already closed. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing slightly as he buries his face upward to rest in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too,” you whisper back followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head. You feel his lips brush against your neck in a lazy and comforting reply.

Your hands move lower, massaging the muscles of his back as you both go back and forth mumbling and murmuring about how you appreciate each other. The horrid day long forgotten as you lay peacefully within each other’s arms, knowing no matter what tomorrow or any future day may bring, you’ll always have a safe home with one another.

#svnet #jake smut #enhypen jake smut #jake x reader #jake x you #jake x y/n #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun x you #jaeyun x reader #enhypen smut

762 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 2 months ago

Note

Okay THANK YOU for saying “your body craves what it needs” is bs because that felt like bs this whole time.

Like you don’t need more sugar if you crave sweets that is NOT what that means. Sugar is a food that people crave because it tastes good/sugar I think is an addictive food??

Idk it just felt like people making excuses when they’re supposed to be trying to eat a little healthier (healthier, not low cal, not low fat or keto or whatever. Diets are bs but craving sweets does not mean sugar is healthy thing for your body rn)

People crave sugar because it tastes good, which is not a bad thing, and there is an evolutionary reason that sugar and fat taste good to us. Carbs are your body's favorite thing because it is SUPER easy for your body to break them down into useful molecules.

I'm not a fan of the idea that any foods are addictive and I'm skeptical of models that suggest "refined food addiction" is a thing with a measurable, real-world impact; there's a lot of debate in that area of nutrition science and to me it kind of seems like the tools people use to track food addiction aren't really examining the addictiveness of specific foods, but are decent screening tools for people who have compulsive behaviors around food (for instance, one group of people who the Yale Food Addiction Scale has repeatedly been demonstrated to be REALLY good at identifying is people with anorexia).

But your body needs sugar all the time, whether that's in the form of complex carbohydrates that get broken down into simple sugars by your body, or simple sugars that you stir into your tea that then gets sent to your cells as energy. If your diet doesn't have enough sugar in it, your body has a processes to turn non-sugars into sugar so that it can use the sugar (gluconeogenesis!). Sugar is unambiguously good for you in the way that fat is unambiguously good for you. You need sugar to survive and it's not a bad thing if you want to have a cookie or a soda or some candy, and again - your craving probably isn't telling you that you're deficient in a specific micro or macronutrient, but I still think that you should listen to your craving.

Like, I don't know how much you know about psychotherapy but the attitude that a lot of diet-focused discussion takes toward cravings reminds me of cognitive behavioral therapy. "When you crave chocolate, no you don't! Don't think about the chocolate, you actually probably need starch or sugar or something, let's redirect that into having a banana, or some frozen berries, or some spinach. Point away from the unhealthy craving and into the healthy replacement, or, better yet, ignore the craving. Mind over matter. You choose how you act."

(I actually think "X craving means that I want Y food so I shall replace it with Z, which is similar" "craving salt means that I am dehydrated and need electrolytes so instead of potato chips I'll have some soup" is how this goes most of the time. I think this is a diet culture thing, not a food positivity thing.)

And you know what I think that's a garbage way to look at both food and emotions.

When I'm craving ice cream it's not because I've been mostly vegetarian for a week and am low on dietary cholesterol (AN IMPORTANT NUTRIENT. Don't be scared of consuming some cholesterol), I'm craving ice cream because sugar and fat taste good. So instead of trying to pretend that I'm getting "what I need" from a piece of salmon the size of a deck of cards with no salt and some lemon squeezed on top, I'm going to scoop out a moderate portion of ice cream and eat it while focusing on how much I enjoy it. And I'm going to do that instead of sitting down with a pint and a spoon while I'm stressed at work and eating something that tastes good to distract from the fact that work is stressful. (And sometimes it's fine to sit down with a pint and a spoon but I will say that's generally best not to do while you're in the middle of something stressful)

And if you want to relate that back to therapy I see this as more of the DBT approach. I've accepted that I want ice cream so I'm going to eat it in an intentional way and enjoy it instead of eating so much that I don't want dinner, or that it makes me feel sick, or that I eat it without noticing it because I'm using it as a distraction instead of a snack.

I'm not trying to shut down the negative emotion or shun the "bad" food, I'm accepting that I have that emotion and I'm working this neutral food into my day so that I'll feel good tomorrow and won't get heartburn overnight.

So I see that you're trying to be kind of anti diet culture here, but I don't think people need excuses to eat sugar, and I actually think that making excuses to eat it is significantly less healthy than just eating the sugar (which, again, is unambiguously healthy to eat as part of a varied, filling, nutritious diet). It seems like you may have internalized some ideas about sugar that are not great even if you are trying to separate from diet culture.

Nobody is ever going to eat a diet so healthy and nutritionally complete that they don't want candy or cake or cookies sometimes. Food is not only fuel, it is entertainment and culture and comfort and distraction and celebration and a million other things, but it is not bad. I don't think there's a single universally bad food out there, or any food that never belongs as part of someone's diet (unless it's something you're allergic to - I don't care if you're craving peanuts, do not eat peanuts if you have a peanut allergy).

So it's okay to make sugar, you don't need to make excuses. It's okay to eat sugar if you're craving sugar, even if that's not what your body "needs". But also sometimes a craving is your body saying "I'm hungry and this sounds good, please feed me" even if you're not a finely-tuned spectrometer that's craving blueberries pie because you actually need antioxidants from the blueberries (you're not a finely tuned spectrometer, you don't need the antioxidants from the blueberries, it's perfectly fine to just eat a slice of pie).

#diet talk #food tw #calorie counting #tw disordered eating

623 notes · View notes

azziesbattybaddie · 3 months ago

Text

You are my survival

Azriel x reader

You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.

Word count: 5k

Requested: no

Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men

🔥 means smut will follow

Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!

"Pay attention."

His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.

"I'm trying my best"

He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.

"Gotcha."

"dammit!"

You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.

"I'm done, I'm quit!"

Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.

"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.

"Don't give up just yet."

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.

"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.

"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."

"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."

Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.

"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.

He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.

Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.

"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.

"Of course, y/n. What is it?"

He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.

"what happened to your hands?"

Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.

"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.

"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."

He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.

"what brings that question to mind?"

you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.

"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.

"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.

He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."

you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly

"They always looked soft still..."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.

"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.

"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.

His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.

you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.

Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.

For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.

without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.

He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.

"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."

your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.

"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.

Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.

"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."

He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.

"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"

you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly

"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.

The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.

"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."

His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.

"you can,"

You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.

"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "

At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.

"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That I have love to give?"

He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.

"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.

"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"

"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart

Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.

"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.

He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."

"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.

Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.

"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.

🔥🔥🔥

you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.

Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.

As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."

"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.

Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.

"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.

"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.

"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.

carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.

The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.

"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."

Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.

"And you smell divine,"

Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.

"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"

you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.

"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."

At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.

"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.

"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."

With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.

"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"

"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.

Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.

He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.

As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.

"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."

He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.

Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.

Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.

Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.

"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.

"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.

Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.

"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.

"Show me how much you need me."

you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.

"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.

The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.

"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.

"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."

He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.

"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"

You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.

The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.

"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."

His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.

"That's it... Swallow it all..."

Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.

Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.

"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.

Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"I want more," he whispered huskily,

"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.

You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.

Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.

"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"

Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.

"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.

Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."

He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.

"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.

"Just like that... Don't stop..."

Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.

You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.

"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.

"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.

As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.

Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.

"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"And it's only going to get better from here."

His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.

"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.

You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.

Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.

With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.

#acotar men x reader #azriel x plus size reader #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel smut #acotar smut #acomaf #rhysand #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #lucien x reader

790 notes · View notes

rivangel · 21 days ago

Text

i found an olddd 6k h/c fic i wrote kind of related to this subject, i wonder if i should post it :sss

i'm 99% certain no tws are needed because nothing is directly implied/referenced, but if i do, let me know :) —

➥ pairing: Captain!Levi x fem!taller!Scout!reader

➥ wc: 2.9k

disclaimer: no one's healing is linear, and no one's goals for recovery have to be exactly the same. please don't take this as anything more than a fan-fictional fantasy scenario.

"What's wrong?"

His cheeks still warm from kissing, Levi seems to read your expression better than you can read your own feelings. You're close enough for your legs to be tangled together, laying in the center of your comfy bed instead of on your own sides, but he feels so much closer to you in this moment.

Under covers, he'd pulled away somewhat reluctantly after you helped pull off his shirt, complaining it was hot.

Maybe he's wondering about the covers, and why he hadn't pinpointed that as the way to rectify the heat. Or why you didn't.

"...Nothing," he replies.

Despite that non-answer, you get the sense he's being surprisingly candid.

You lean in again at almost the exact same time.

"Now what?"

"Now what...?" you echo.

"Fuck, what..." He's choosing his words carefully, looking away.

He's still considering when you figure out that he doesn't know what to say because he's doesn't know what to do. And if he did, all that'd change is success at constructing his question.

"It's not a big deal." You end up brushing your nose against his to gaze into his eyes.

You're telling him that, and you're telling yourself.

"Um, can I just kiss you?—Okay?"

He tilts his head and kisses you in reply. As if you hadn't stopped at all, you press deep into the smoldering softness of his lips and skin, hungry for an ambrosia only Levi can give you. It's all you want, sometimes, dangerously so—all you want is to be as intertwined with Levi as possible. Until there's no difference between you and him.

You turn away from that fact.

You're unerringly grateful for how mindful he always, always is with what you've been through. There was a period of time when he held you as if you'd break into pieces if he made the slightest off-move, but you're well-past even that. You're putty in his hands as he licks hungrily at your tongue, fist tight on the thick plush of your sweatshirt. You even hear a soft noise escape him. You notice him shifting open his legs, too.

You hum softly as you take his hand further down your hip, nostrils flaring. The heat of his skin and the solid muscle just beneath his middle is almost too overwhelming.

You see the potential in his softness all up and down his chest and back that's otherwise interwoven with strength, and with scars. Without looking, the harsh indents from the ODM gear are still paths you can follow.

He's deeply receptive to everything. Desire is burning away your doubt like a flame consuming a dense note. Giving fuel to it, you breathe his air into your lungs.

With a push of urgency, you start tugging off your shorts. You get it done much faster together.

You're breathing hard, narrowly separating at some point. He mumbles something tight you can't hear into the hot cove between your shoulder and neck, but he must need something bad by the firm hold he has on your hip.

"You don't need to be shy," you ease, and he huffs like you just inflicted a physical blow on him. "Hey. Show me... Show me what you want."

He saddles up closer to you, smacking your neck with kisses and finally hitching your leg up and pulling you against him. You gasp as it finally hits you, how painfully fucking hard he is—you feel him through his boxers against your thigh, heat pounding where his thighs meet.

"Oh, oh?"

He whispers your name.

You close your hand on the nape of his neck as you slide your thigh in between his legs, and firmly rub him.

He buries his mouth into your neck when he moans, thick from the depths of his chest, almost like that's it for him. It sends a shiver through you as you blindly guide his hand down more, till he takes a full squeeze of your ass.

He starts to speed up right away.

Levi's neediness is nothing like you expected. You actually have him stop.

Once, through drunken eyes, he sees that you don't have a complaint, he follows along with your move like you're one body.

The cool air is actually a mercy coming out from under the covers.

You sit up, making you separate briefly for him to half-crawl into your lap. It looks almost ridiculous to keep his underwear on, but his hand soon lands on yours, hooked in the waistband, so you go back to touching him like before

He's buried in your lap, his strong thighs snug outside your flanks. With your height. You have the perfect view, staring blatantly at Levi's densely toned stomach and chest. It's a shame he dresses to cover himself up so much, but you feel even more special to see him like this, and touch him, and kiss him, and just—Your hands come up from below, eagerly rubbing his pecs with your palms.

"Off..." he grunts, almost slurring the lone word. "I'll kick you if you keep teasing me."

You chuckle at the threat outright as you bring your hand up his thigh.

His cock peaks at the air as soon as it's freed. It seems like just your hand being close to it has him tensing in anticipation. It's heavy, veins bulging on his thick shaft, and bright red, raw. Sticky strings of precum make it look like you rubbed him in oil already.

You're fighting squirming at the sight—or something equally as impulsive that you're both perhaps not ready for.

"Ah, so pretty... Can I call you pretty?"

"Not in English."

You laugh again. "Can I touch you, Pretty?"

Levi's hips shift, an answer in of itself, to which you shakily say into a fresh mark on his neck, "I'll make you feel really really good, okay? Tell me to stop if it's too much."

He shudders on the first stroke in which you take him in an exceptionally loose fist. He's so fucking sensitive—still, by the urgency with which he rocks into your pumps and leans against you, it heats up quickly. He puts his arm over his shoulder and messes his bangs in the process to lace his fingers in your hair.

Remembering his objection earlier, you focus on his nipples with your free hand until they're pointed and hard, and his ab muscles are visibly tensing.

"Wait—that's..."

You stop, his cock twitched and throbbing, which seems painful by the slight hiss of air through his teeth. "Too much?"

...He takes your hand and wraps it around him again, more insistent this time. "No, touch me, keep doing me l-like that."

Your teeth hook in your bottom lip to stifle a noise as you trace the veins with your thumb and stroke his slit with a decisive middle finger, and his hips jump forward. He makes himself pant and whine with this shaky rocking.

Surprisingly, he asks with these glittering eyes, "Is-Is it... okay?"

You'd forgotten your initial discomfort a while ago—it doesn't register at first why he'd ask that. And you hear how ready he is now with every stroke. Why does he?

"Mm?"

He shuts his eyes tight, shivering. He whines, louder than you've ever heard, when you speed up—you fail to help yourself too.

That's when what he meant strikes you. A surge of confidence brightens your mind. Clueless, he's asking your permission.

You sink into this role as though into hot, relaxing water, tonguing the back of his ear and neck. "Need t'cum? Do you wanna cum in my hand?"

"I'm close"—tensing, he grips your other wrist tighter, as it's working his balls—"I'm so fucking close, I'm—"

"Yeah—yeah, there you go. Let it go for me, I've got you, baby, cum for me."

All his movements, even shivers, stutter to a sudden halt, scarcely even panting for a second. Then the most excruciating moan drips from his mouth. His lips part and close to form a near-silent shout of your name before his grip jumps to your bicep, squeezing hard as his overcome cock works. A gentle thrust is all he seems to need to moan through the peak of it before his shivers intensify, coming in waves with each eager streak of cum his throbbing cock spills across your knuckles, painting his hard stomach muscles. He groans shakily for every second spent in bliss, then shudders after the fading waves.

His weight collapses into you before he seems to think other of it, but he sits up again quickly.

You're breathing hard, in a daze from what just happened. It's astounding—how tantalizing it felt to hold Levi in your arms and talk him through an orgasm like that, and to get so many sounds you'd never heard him make...

And that's precisely why your first conclusion is you're hesitant to keep going.

Your arms loosely wrap around him, and to your delight, he turns all loose and pliant.

You get the mental sense he's still keeping you somewhat at length, though; he's holding your arm again. But you appreciate his honesty with that.

You concentrate on the blissfulness of his breathing slowing, and his shoulders relaxing rather than the frustration rife inside your body.

"Disgusting." Rather than look at himself, he turns his head, his temple brushing your blazing cheek, and your shared sweat bleeding together.

"Not."

His expression contorts in a scowl. "You're such a brat."

His soft lips press to the side of your mouth—also wet, with your breaths steamy. You put in some lazy effort, just appreciating the feel of his skin and the touch of his lashes.

Eventually, you gather the wits to crack open your eyes—meeting his lidded ones—and properly meet his lips.

Mindlessly. You're so turned on, but you don't want to move. It's not that you don't want to—you want to too much. And what if he doesn't want to?—

Maybe that's a dumb question, but logic won't toss these feelings. This sense that you're going to mess up somehow. Worse than anything, you feel so guilty for the tiny prick of irrational fear that encourages you to be wary.

You stop thinking when he pulls away—just enough to stop—and you're entranced by his looks all over again. His eyes are as blue as dusk at the moment, contrasting beautiful and bright against his blushing cheeks, and intertwined beautifully with his tender look. They search yours demurely.

"You're so beautiful," you blurt out in a whisper.

His expression scrunches like he just tasted a lemon. He doesn't say anything to that, merely pecking the side of your lips, then the thick bone where your jaw divides your throat. As you wrap your arms around him, he cups your cheek.

He doesn't so much as brush your waist until you bring his hand up under your sweatshirt there, and he sighs blissed through his nose, hot against your neck. He’s so heavy and warm against you.

You squirm in place, leaning into his touch and his mouth, craving but not quite sure how to satisfy it.

"You have to talk to me," he eventually stops kissing your neck to whisper. "Do you want something...?"

Possibilities of an answer makes white-hot anticipation flare inside you. Same down lower as he makes his first forward move and his little finger innocently slips under the thin elastic, your panties—fleeting.

"Do you need something?" he murmurs, suggestion thick in the words. "If not, it can end here."

Finally, at that, you shake your head swiftly. All your emotions swirl in a mess inside you, but that is ironclad.

His breath shakes—your breath shakes—before you lower your head to capture his lips again, deep and purposeful like earlier.

You leave one of his hands on your thigh, and card your fingers through his hair to have him go down. Despite the eagerness in your shared pace, every kiss from his lips feels doting, like giving anything less than everything he has is unnatural.

You keep your shirt on, but he's still slow to rest his stance, kissing up your knee as you get comfortable. He takes a long, slow breath as his lips brush up your inner thigh, hardly doing much, but still making your breathing labored.

It lights fiercer of a fire in your to watch him nip and lick at your inner thighs, darting between with his eyes mostly shut—than to focus on the feeling.

"Levi," you sigh, with a twinge of a whine. The fabric of your panties delivers the most faintest of friction, which is worse than if they were off. You've taken to fidgeting—fidgeting with his soft hair, and with your hips. "K-Keep going."

You assumed he'd enjoy teasing you like earlier, but no. He's still mostly kissing, so you get half of his erotic gaze that makes you blank on the spot, and that's the way he stays as delicately pushes your panties to the side. He holds it in place with his long fingers, and lowers his eyes with the blush across his cheeks deepening red, trying to assess how to continue.

Again you take his hand, so your fingers are loosely linked as you lightly rub your clit. You surprise yourself by moaning, shakily spreading wider too.

"So it’s like that, huh.”

"Please—..."

He dots his thumb on his tongue before you show him—taking his wrist—that you want him more than just your clit. He huffs.

“Like this?”

The sweeping touch by his calloused thumb feels more amazing than you ever could’ve conceived of.

“Yes.”

“I can tell. Yeah…” he muses to himself, quietly. “That’s a good girl.”

You moan. If you glance, you’d him chewing on the inside of his cheek, nostrils flaring with deep breaths.

His breath hot close to your clit, he stays like that, gradually increasing in pressure and speed until you moan his name, loudly, then stopping, just before utter release could reach you.

A pleasant fog grows around your mind and your acknowledgment that Levi is happily doing this with you—not to you, but with you.

"Levi—! Oh...!"

On your own, you tend find it difficult to grasp at climax—which had been nestled with your other worries…—but your astonishment is palpable now. How you’ve felt so close you could cry, so much now, and all he’s really done is play with your clit.

It’s getting unbearable. Embarrassment roils in you as yet another touch of warmth drips from your pussy, leaving a growing grey spot on the bedspread. Frantically, you run your fingers through his hair.

“‘Vi please!”

He hums under his breath at the nickname. You can’t even recall how much you’ve been begging.

Finally, you pry open your lidded eyes, watching as he first delicately presses his lips to your clit, which becomes two, and then three. Still taking you slowly.

“Levi, please. Please, please—more. That feels—you feel—...”

He kisses you again, but this time leaves his lips there and suddenly presses you with the heat of his heavy tongue, then raises his gaze to your eyes. “Mhm?”

You cum on the spot—you gasp like it’s the last breath you can take and shove your heels into the mattress as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. Your hips push gratefully against his—hot, wet, soft moaning mouth now making a perfect seal around your clit, creating suction you weren’t at all prepared for. You grope with your fingers, down, pushing two into your cunt and you’re on cloud nine again. You’re practically crying as you writhe in the sheets. Curiously too, your walls pulse tightly around your fingers, making thrusting unbearable without keening into your elbow and whimpering Levi's name for something familiar. It feels like your entire body shakes, on and on.

You're panting hard when you finally collapse, the muscles in your thighs angry and a new sense of wetness messing the bedspread below your spent pussy. Your rocking grows less pointed, and you start whimpering from the light volts of overstimulation. Your thighs are shaking so bad, Levi’s biceps push on your flanks, keeping you steady through these ecstatic weakening pulses.

Of course he isn’t so out of breath. What you can see are his eyes closed in rapt concentration as his tongue drags through your soaked pussy, making muffled sounds of satisfaction all the while. You feel it brush the gaps between your fingers every time he goes down, making you wonder just how his cock would feel so close to your hole. Harder and firmer, for sure—

Your teeth sink hard into your bottom lip. His hips keep shifting, you notice, now that he’s rubbing faster. A shudder rushes through your thighs each time his tongue flatly drags up your clit.

“A-Are you close…?” you moan.

It almost doesn’t sound like him because of how high-pitched it is. “Ah…”

You shakily push a third inside and groan. You fuck yourself deep and firm, feeling yourself the most you can getting tighter.

Levi’s hold subtly tightens as all his attention pours back into licking and tonguing your clit, all he can focus on. Somehow, you feel his approaching climax almost as vividly as though it was your own, between his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, and his growing whines, the wrinkle between his brow hard.

His mouth briefly lifts off your pussy to gasp, still connected by a string of either cum or spit or both. He’s frozen like that for a second, his lips gaping, culminating in a resounding, trembling moan before feverishly resuming right where he’d stopped, just now grunting and rutting his hips hard against the bed. You don’t hold on even until then, crying out like some primal song.

Before completely easing, he helps himself to one more lick.

| more Levi |

feedback/a reblog is appreciated :)

#levi ackerman x you #levi heichou #captain levi #levi x you #levi x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #levi ackerman #levi rivaille #rivaille ackerman #rivaille heichou #aot levi #levi attack on titan #snk levi #tw sa mention

189 notes · View notes

spookysteddie · 10 months ago

Text

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”

…

You should’ve changed your mind.

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.

Photos are fine.

Everyone must be tagged.

Nothing negative.

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”

You nod, “y-yeah of course.”

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”

…

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?

“‘Precious babies?’”

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”

So, you do.

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”

“V-very.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.

“Oh god! Please.”

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

887 notes · View notes

imgae-insertshockedgasps-16 · 8 months ago

Text

okay i've seen a few Just Some Guy!danny aus and they've consumed my brain so here you go, it's under the cut, you're welcome and thank you (ps it also combines part of a prompty type thing i saw the other day, props if you know it)

Danny was not entirely sure how he got here.

He was just walking along, bopping to some great interdimensional tunes, eating his tuna fish sandwich - with ectoplasm and pickles, of course - when KABLOW there's this big ole tightie-whities-on-the-outside wearing guy.

Now, Danny's not great at keeping up with the times, but he's pretty sure this is that Superman dude.

Said SuperDude was staring at his headphones and making vague "hey take them out pls so can converse" gestures, so naturally Danny pops the Interdimensional Walkman out of his chest to pause his wicked music, and then puts the whole kit and kaboodle back behind his rib cage.

"What's up? Did you need help or something? I mean, I'm pretty solidly retired but I guess if it's super important I can-"

SuperGuy abruptly stopped staring and started speaking, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

Ohhhhh, Danny totally gets it now.

"Oh, dude, I gotchu. You want me to hook you up, right? Don't even worry about it, I know a guy who'll give you one a these babies for free! You're Kryptonian, right? Yeah, I totally get it, you wanna listen to some music from your home planet, no problemo my newly-minted friend, give me, like, ten seconds-"

And so Danny tore open a neat little portal and stuck his head through it, asking Technus to pretty please give him another Interdimensional Walkman, no he didn't even break this one-! He ran into a Kryptonian who heard him rockin out and wanted to know where he got the beats, and he'd told them that he could hook them up! C'mon Technus, you can't let them down! They're all lonely! They want to learn about their culture!

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

Clark has no idea what's happening.

He had been searching for this ear-splitting, headache-inducing noise, and had come across a guy dancing down the sidewalk.

Not unusual, right?

Except that the terrible noise was coming from this man's - kid's?? He can't quite tell how old he is - headphones!

Of course, he didn't want to be rude, so he politely gestured for the man to remove the headphones. The man then proceeded to reach into his chest and pull out some kind of - Walkman?? Do people still use Walkmans?

Clark was naturally concerned, so he activated a spot of x-ray vision, just to see what's going on in there, and was promptly horrified.

This man was using his chest cavity as a storage compartment!

Two wallets, a key ring, a lunch box, some sort of odd thermos, bits and bobs of random parts and tools were all tangled around - and occasionally in - this guy's organs!

Suddenly, Clark realized that he'd been staring for a while, and the man was now talking. Something about coming out of retirement to help, oh dear, Ma would knock him around the head if he kept being so rude, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

And now he was speaking rapidly, something about music from Krypton? Clark's pretty sure that not a whole lot survived the explosion, and he'd be pretty surprised if this guy just happened to have-

A vaguely Lazarus colored portal??

What in the world-

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

"Thanks Technus! You're the best! I owe you one non evil scheme related favour!"

Danny zips up the portal and turns around, fiddling with the tapes and Walkman in his hands as he goes.

"Here you go! I wasn't entirely sure what genre you'd want, I don't really listen to a whole lot of Kryptonian stuff to be honest, it's usually too heavy on the vocal for me- not that vocals aren't great! But I want a whole band experience, yaknow? I'm not really looking for individual singers. Anyway, I just had him go for a couple songs of each major genre, but if you want something different you can totally-"

"Wait, hold on, you're telling me that there's Kryptonian music on those tapes? Playable by that Walkman?"

"Uh, well, yeah. Isn't that why you tracked me down? And, technically, I mean, they're ectoplasmic tapes and an Interdimensional Walkman, so. Hey, did you know that kryptonite is actually super-condensed ectoplasm? And since it's filled with the anguish and suffering and fear and whatnot of your entire home planet dying, it only negatively affects your species! Pretty cool right? Oh, shit, was that insensitive, I really didn't mean to be, I just thought that maybe you'd want to- ACK!"

Danny was not expecting SuperMuscles to get so close. He thrust out the IW and tapes and dropped them into SuperFellow's hands, "Listen, I gotta run. I'm supposed to be at a o-chem study group right now and they're totally gonna be pissed. Hit me up if you want a different tape."

And the proceeded to run in the opposite direction, duck into an alley and turn invisible, and fly over to the cafe his study group was in.

"Listen, I know I'm late but you'll never believe why-"

#that's it i'm done #fair warning- i am not a superman expert and the characterization is prolly wrong #but uh yeah #brain worms #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #dc #dc comics #superman #danny fenton #he's Just Some Guy #that's how he sees himself #and how the people who know him see him #like yeah he's a little odd #but so are most people

422 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

Wicked Games 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The world blurs around Barrett's body. His corpse. Dead. Gone. Over. All of it. Even knowing you were on your way out, you're not ready for this.

You stare at him, even as bodies move between you, even as voices talk to you. You can't look away. How could one night end like this?

You stand as someone grabs your arm. You shrug them off and cross the room. Right as your about to reach for your husband, a wall forms between you. And officer comes into focus as he calmly blocks your path.

"Ma'am, you can't touch him." He girds.

"He's my husband. I just want to say good-bye." You sniffle and wince at the fiery pain in your nose.

"You can't." He crosses his arms and nods to one of the men in black. There's more suits than uniforms there.

You look around and take in the crowd of strange faces. They don't belong here. They shouldn't be here. Barrett should be alive!

"She's in shock." A shudder rolls through you as Steve steps up and pats your shoulder.

"She needs to see a paramedic."

"She does. Come on." He nudges you away from the scene. You plant your feet. You don't want to go. You don't want to leave. Not anymore. Not knowing you won't ever see him again.

Steve leans in and lowers his voice, "move or I'll make you."

The sharp whisper pierces. You wince and shuffle away. A new spring of tears flows free. You mop your face and whimper as you touch your swollen nose.

You're taken into the hall. Another uniform approaches. This one white. The woman pulls on gloves and talks to you. You have no answer for her as your eyes zero in on the open door of your apartment.

"Not broken. Should go down." The paramedic declares as she drags a sterile wipe around your nostrils. "Split the bridge but a few days and some ice, you'll be good as new."

She applies a strip over the broken skin and leaves you be. Steve looms. He paces between you and the door. A man in a suit appears and calls him 'Captain'.

"Keep an eye on her," he orders.

Confused, you look around. Bucky's shadow clears and he gives you a dull glance. He tucks his phone away and steps up to lean on the wall next to you. He crosses his arms.

Where the hell are you going to go? Your husband is dead. Your apartment is a crime scene. And you're knocked up woth a stranger's baby. Yes. A stranger. You might know his face and his name but you do not know Steve Rogers.

When he reappesrs, you shrink down. He nears and points down the hall. "Free to go. Come on."

You look to the end of the hall and back to him. Wendy is waiting for you. You stand straight and Steve cordons you off with his arm before you can pass him.

"My bag." You utter.

"Evidence. Let's go."

You lean back in your heel. "I'm not going with you."

He scowls and Bucky sets his feet flst. You glance between them.

"You don't go with me and I'll have them take you to the precinct," Steve sneers.

"Okay," you shrug.

"Okay?" He growls, pausing to peer around. "Your friend is worried, right? Waiting for you. Don't worry, she got your message. You're not going."

"Huh?"

He flips his hand up and wags your phone, "lucky they didn't confiscate it."

"You can't do this."

"I can do what I want for the good of my baby." He huffs and nods at Bucky. "Let's. Go."

You rip away from the other man as he reaches for you. You hug yourself and turn down the hall. There is no argument to be had. Everyone there is on Cap's side.

"One sec. I forgot something." Steve backs up and slides your phone into his jacket pocket.

He turns and strides back into the apartment. You wait with Bucky as he slips his own phone put and taps with his metal thumb. He chuckles and tucks it away again.

Steve emerges with his shield in hand. The edge is stained dark red. You garble and cover your mouth as you gape at the hue of Barrett's blood.

"Alright, sweetheart," Steve steps up next to you. "Can't have a pregnant woman on her feet all night.”

You hesitate before you fall into step. The buzz of activity fades behind you as the elevator button lights up beneath Steve's fingertip. You stand between the super soldiers as you wait for the doors to part. Your head swims and you feel the world drop out from under you. Your ears ring and the air chafes your throat.

“Mind if I take off?” Bucky asks as he steps through the doors. Steve drags you inside when you don't react.

“Sure, think I can handle it from here,” you turn to face the doors as they glide shut and close you in with your new nightmare.

“Thanks, bud,” Bucky snickers.

“She waitin’ up?” Steve asks.

“Doesn't matter. I'll wake her up if need be.”

The men's laughter skews into a cacophony. It's all so funny to them. Your husband is dead, your life is over, but they can stand their and chatter like a pair of frat boys.

#series #marvel #mcu #drabble #captain america #avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #wicked games

356 notes · View notes

a-dauntless-daffodil · 4 months ago

Text

Angel Dust: “Sweetie, babe… missy, hun-”

Vaggie: “If you’re talking to your reflection in the mirror again, I’m kicking you both out.”

Angel Dust: “I just don’t GET it!”

Vaggie: “It’d be the fourth time you talked dirty to yourself in public this week and I was sick of hearing it three times ago. What’s not to get.”

Angel Dust: “How come ya got so many pet names for ya girlfriend, Vaggisaurus? Ya don’t seem the type.”

Vaggie: “That’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Angel Dust: “I’m serious! It don’t fit ya at all!”

Vaggie: “Sure it does.”

Angel Dust: “How??”

Vaggie: “I love her. And she loves pet names.”

Angel Dust: “If she loves ‘em so much then why ain’t SHE callin’ YOU by any?”

Charlie: “Well maaaaaybe she WOULD if EVERYONE ELSE actually USED Vaggie’s name instead of saying it WRONG or turning it into a JOKE all the time! Ha ha ha! Isn't that funny???? Maybe Vaggie’s girlfriend LIKES her name and thinks it’d be SAD if no one ever SAID IT!!!”

Angel Dust: “Aw c’mon, since when does that-”

Lucifer: “Gooooooood MORNING Char-char! Good morning Maggie!”

Charlie: “Hi dad.”

Vaggie: “Good morning, sir.”

Husk: “Mail’s here. More fucking hate letters from heaven addressed to That Filth Vagina.”

Vaggie: “Great. Let Niffty burn those too.”

Niffty: “THE SACRIFICIAL TRASH RAT FIRE SHALL CONSUME IT’S VICTIMS ALONG WITH THEIR FINAL HELPLESS SCREAMS!!!”

Cherri Bomb: “Cool. Hey guys- Pentious sent a text asking for someone named ‘Vagatha’ to make sure his Egg Boi gets tucked into bed tonight and read a bedtime story from one of the death machine instruction manuals… and I’m wondering…"

Cherri Bomb: "...who the fuck is Vagatha???”

Vaggie: “His murderer, if he wasn’t already dead.”

Cherri Bomb: “What the fuck? I was that idiot’s nemesis! Whoever this Vagatha chic is, I’ve got a bomb to pick out for her!”

Charlie: “Cherri, just…” (sigh) “Just tell Pen I’ll handle it, okay?”

Cherri Bomb: “Sure thing, but who-”

Charlie: “Don’t ask.”

Vaggie: “Thanks babe.”

Angel Dust: “…..”

Angel Dust: "Huh.

Vaggie: “...You were saying?”

Angel Dust: "Ya need a new name, Vaggietales.”

Vaggie: “I’ve got a loving girlfriend who always says it right, so I think I’m good actually.”

Angel Dust: “Toots, no one outside of a porno can say ‘Vaggie’ with a straight face.”

Charlie: “I do!”

Angel Dust: “You’re in homosexuals with her. Like, sickenin' deep in the yuri genre. It ain't straight and it don’t count.”

Vaggie: “If we're talking about dumb names don't forget I somehow call you ‘Angel’ with a straight face.”

Angel Dust: “Only ‘cause ya hate heaven an' mean it as a slur.”

Charlie: “Oh Angel Dust, you KNOW that’s not-”

Vaggie: “True.”

Angel Dust: “BITCH I KNEW IT!!”

Charlie: “Oh for... is there ANYONE here who’s normal about names???”

Alastor: “Ah-HEM~”

Charlie: “Normal in a non-serial killer kinda way.”

Alastor: (smiles) "Ah." (fades back into shadows)

#hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #challenge level: can you be chill about someone's weird name yea or nah #alternatively: when you love your gf so much she could be named literally anything and it'd be the prettiest name in the world to you~

263 notes · View notes

mrs-kmikaelson · 3 months ago

Text

What's in a Name? (+)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: The one time that you don't walk away. Warnings: mentions of substance abuse, vvs suggestive Words: 1.2K

Masterlist

a/n: if ur js finding this fic, this is the bonus! the fives times r does walk away are here. this happens right after no.5, btw.

6. A lie is the truth

Arlington, Virginia, 2008

You couldn't sleep.

All you could think of was the fact that you were in Aaron's bed and he was right outside the door. The thunder continued to boom but your thoughts were louder than the storm outside; they consumed you.

It was irrational. You'd known him for nearly five years, and in that time, you'd only seen him an equivalent of five times, yet he was still on your mind. He'd been on your mind non-stop since New York—and that was crazy.

You felt crazy.

You felt crazy because he was right. You felt something.

It all started off as a game. You just wanted to get under his skin, play with fire a bit, but you got burned. You couldn't handle the heat; you couldn't handle the way the game stopped being a game. It became something else.

Hotch's role was to get irritated, maybe a bit flustered, but he was never supposed to flirt back. He was never supposed to want to know you— you couldn't even remember the last time anyone wanted to do that.

Lovers came and went over the years, but none had ever felt like this. It was always physical, but you and Aaron hadn't even kissed. Without any of that, he still had you in his grip.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd been with anybody. You don't know if you'd been holding off on purpose, if it was conscious. You'd been holding out for a guy you couldn't even be with, and now that you had the chance, you were the one holding back.

God, if he knew you before. If you'd met before, things would've been so different. Maybe he could've saved you from yourself.

But he didn't. When you were drowning, you pulled yourself out of the water. That old version of you died, and Y/N was born. Y/N was the one who saved you. When you had no one else, Y/N was there. She was your shoulder to cry on until she taught you not to cry anymore, to focus.

But now what did you have? An apartment you barely lived in and nobody that really knew you. But there was a man out there, a good man, who said he wanted to.

You didn't know what you'd show him—you weren't even sure if you really knew you.

But maybe... maybe you could find out together.

You'd never know if you didn't try.

With that thought, you threw the covers back and beelined for the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to find Aaron already behind the threshold, fist raised to knock. In an instant, he dropped it.

"Y/N—"

You cut him off. "Wait, just— just let me get this out." He looked confused. "If I don't get it out, I don't think I ever will."

There was a beat of silence, but then he spoke. "Okay."

His eyes were kind and patient as you tried to gather the words, everything you wanted to say vanishing from your fingertips. So you went with the first thing that popped into your mind. "My name is Lorelai." Surprise shone on his face, but you paid it little mind, racing to say everything before you lost the courage. "But people used to call me Lai. It was a play on words, because I was a liar. I lied about a lot of things. I got involved with the wrong kinds of people, got my hands on the wrong types of things, I was—" you swallowed. "I was an addict. And my life was gonna go down the drain, but things changed. Then I got on the government radar, and suddenly I wasn't Lai anymore, but I was still a liar; the difference was just that I was a better liar. More powerful. Now I'm Y/N. And that name changed everything for me. That is what is in a name. Everything."

By the time you finished, you were breathing heavy. You averted your eyes as a chuckle left you. "So, tell me, Aaron, do you still want to know me?"

You were expecting him to leave, to end it there and tell you he'd drive you home tomorrow, but instead, you felt sudden warmth on your cheeks as his hands wiped away tears you didn't know were there. "Look at me." When you didn't respond, he tried again, "Y/N. Look at me."

You looked up, expecting to see judgement and hatred, anger, but you saw none of that. You saw openness and understanding, and other emotions you couldn't pinpoint. You realized you couldn't decipher it because no one had ever looked at you this way.

His voice was soft and firm all at the same time. "Y/N, I don't care what your name is. I don't care if a lie is the truth— I care about you." He paused as if he wanted his words to soak in, but not once did he look away. "I want to know you, whether that be about Lorelai or Y/N doesn't matter. This woman in front of me right now, she is who I want to know."

Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage as he leaned in closer. Déjà vu from your moment in the kitchen hit you hard, your eyes going back to his lips, the same lips that just uttered that he didn't care, the same lips that just washed away your fears.

He closed his eyes and then pleaded, "Let me know you, Y/N."

That shattered any last semblance of doubt you had left, and you barely had time to think about it before you were slamming your lips into his.

He reciprocated immediately, kissing you with the fervour of a man who'd been suffocated and you were his air. A sensation you couldn't name erupted all over your body, from your head to your toes, and you wondered how you had lived so long without ever feeling this. Of all the kisses you'd ever had, none could compare to this one.

But this didn't just feel like a kiss. It felt like a promise.

Your lips moved in sync together, just like when you'd been dancing that night in Washington. It was like your body knew all the steps to this dance without ever having learned it.

So now you wondered, if this was supposed to be wrong, why did it feel more right than anything you'd ever done?

Eventually, you had to pull away. His eyes were still closed. You grinned. "How about you get to know me tomorrow night at dinner?"

That caused his eyes to open, a full-fledged smile making its way onto his face, and you knew then and there that you'd do anything to make him smile like that all the time. "8 o'clock?"

You nodded and agreed, "It's a date."

His smile got wider, and then he ducked his head into the crook of your neck where it fit perfectly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, recalling how he tensed the last time you did so. Now he had a different reaction, pressing his lips against your neck and littering kisses everywhere.

Tomorrow, you had a date at 8'oclock. But as Aaron kicked the door closed, you wondered if you'd make it out of bed to get there.

You supposed you could miss one date.

You had a feeling there would be many more to make up for it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #you can't spell hotchner without HOT #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #criminal minds #cm fic #criminal minds fic #bau #bau x reader

277 notes · View notes

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 5 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞𝟑𝟔𝟎 | 2

part 1 - Tinder

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, DUB CON, Drinking, food, flirting, DRUGGING, KIDNAPPING, talks of true crime, Degradation, Praise, Humiliation, fear, panic, anxiety, spiting, oral M, cum play, Blowjob, throat fucking, threats, Physical Violence, Bondage (rope), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: A Tinder date goes very, very wrong, but you always consider yourself prepared for such situations. or so you think

WC: 2.8K

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

A/n: I tried to step out of my comfort zone a little with this. It's based on a post I saw while doom-scrolling on this app from @blondwhowrites. She had this amazing post about wanting to see more readers who fight and don't stop. They don't lose hope, they go into survival mode, and I just hope I do this idea somewhat justice. AND IT GETS JUICY in this part....

The pounding in your head was relentless, each beat echoing like a drum inside your skull. As your vision slowly cleared, the dim light seared your eyes, intensifying the headache. You lay on a small, dirty mattress, the only things in sight were two small windows letting in weak slivers of daylight, a door, and a set of stairs leading down. You were still in your dress and heels from the night before, the fabric now wrinkled and uncomfortable against your skin.

Panic surged through you, your mind racing. You forced yourself to breathe, reminding yourself that you knew how to handle this. Jess had your location; if you were missing for more than a day, she would report it.

“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the small details around you. The room was sparse, but there had to be something you could use. You scanned the area methodically, trying to ignore the fear clawing at your throat.

Your phone. You needed your phone. You patted your dress, but there were no pockets. Joel must have taken it. You closed your eyes, fighting the wave of despair. Jess had your location. She’d check Life360 and see something was wrong.

“Think,” you told yourself, trying to stay rational. Joel had been careful, but he must have made a mistake. You just had to find it.

You stood up slowly, your head spinning slightly as you did. The tightness of your dress and the ache in your feet from the heels added to your discomfort. You staggered to the door, pressing your ear against the wood. Silence. You tried the handle, but it was locked.

The stairs then. You moved cautiously, your heels making faint clicking sounds on the cold floor. You reached the top of the stairs, glancing down. The faint light from below suggested another room, but you had no idea what awaited you.

Taking another deep breath, you started to descend. Each step felt like an eternity, the fear of making noise almost paralyzing you. When you reached the bottom, you paused, listening. Nothing. You tried the handle, but it was locked. Frustration bubbled up, but you pushed it down. You couldn’t afford to lose control.

Returning to the main room, you approached the other door. You turned the handle cautiously and pushed it open, revealing a small bathroom. It was just as dingy as the main room, with cracked tiles and a grimy mirror. There was nothing here that could help you escape.

Desperation creeping in, you began searching the shelves and every nook and cranny. Dusty and neglected, they offered little hope. Finally, on one of the shelves, you found an old can of beans. It wasn’t much, but it was something. You hid it carefully in the folds of the mattress, just in case.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, trying to stay calm. “Think. What next?”

Your mind raced as you reviewed everything you knew about the room. The small windows were too high and narrow to climb through. The locked door at the top of the stairs was your best bet, but you needed a way to get through it.

You took another deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. Jess had your location. She would check in on you. You had to hold on to that hope.

Footsteps echoed from below, growing louder. Joel was coming. You quickly lay back down on the mattress, feigning unconsciousness, your heart pounding.

The door creaked open, and Joel’s shadow fell over you. You kept your breathing steady, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight tremor in your hands.

“Just checking on you,” he murmured, his voice soft. “We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

You heard the door close, and his footsteps recede. You opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. You had to find a way out. Jess was counting on you. You were counting on you.

“Stay strong,” you whispered to yourself. “Stay smart.”

Hours passed as you combed through every inch of the small room, searching for any flaw, any potential escape route. The old can of beans hidden in the folds of the mattress was your only find. It was growing darker, and your hope felt as dim as the room around you. The sting of despair lingered, but you fought it off, knowing you had to stay strong.

The only light came from the windows, now dark with the encroaching night. You noticed a string hanging from the ceiling, where a light bulb should have been. It dangled uselessly, a stark reminder of your isolation.

The silence was interrupted by the sound of footsteps below. Joel was coming back. You quickly resumed your position on the mattress, trying to appear exhausted and disoriented. The door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a tray of food.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he said, setting the tray down on a small table.

You forced a weak smile, sitting up slowly. “Thanks.”

Joel watched you with an unsettling intensity as you picked at the food. You needed to keep him talking, to gather more information. “Joel, why are you doing this?”

He smiled, a chillingly calm expression. “I just want us to get to know each other better. Away from all the distractions.”

“By locking me up?” you challenged, your voice trembling.

“You’ll understand in time,” he said, ignoring your question. “Are you feeling better?”

You nodded, though your mind was racing. “I’m just a bit dizzy still.”

“Good,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

As he turned to leave, you mustered the courage to ask, “What if I need something? There’s no light in here.”

Joel paused, glancing at the dangling string. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

The door closed behind him, and you were alone again. You waited, listening to his footsteps fade away before you sprang into action. You grabbed the can of beans from its hiding spot and approached the string. It was a flimsy hope, but perhaps it could be used in some way.

The night stretched on, each minute feeling like an hour. But you remained vigilant, your true crime instincts sharpening with every passing moment. You would find a way out. You had to.

Eventually, exhaustion overpowered your fear. Clutching the can of beans tightly, you lay down on the mattress, forcing yourself to rest. Your eyes grew heavy, and despite your best efforts, sleep claimed you.

You awoke to the feeling of hands on your wrists. Panic shot through you as you realized Joel was there, his grip firm and unyielding. You tried to pull away, but your limbs felt sluggish, uncooperative.

"Shh," Joel murmured, his voice unsettlingly calm. "Just a precaution."

You glanced around frantically, your heart racing. Joel was binding your wrists together with a length of rope. The realization hit you like a cold wave: you were trapped, and he was making sure you couldn’t escape.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

“Making sure you don’t hurt yourself,” Joel replied, his tone eerily soothing. “You seemed restless in your sleep.”

“I won’t try anything,” you pleaded, struggling against the bonds. “Just let me go.”

Joel’s eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of something dark in his gaze. “I can’t do that. Not yet.”

You fought harder, but Joel’s grip was strong. He finished tying your wrists and then moved to your ankles, securing them with the same methodical care. Fear bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, your voice breaking. “You don’t have to do this.”

Joel stepped inside, holding a light bulb in his hand. He dangled it in front of you, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “I brought you something,” he said, his voice dripping with mock kindness. “But you’ll have to earn it.”

You glared at him, your anger simmering beneath the surface. “What do you want from me?”

Joel knelt down beside you, his gaze intense. “I want your cooperation,” he said softly. “You need to show me that I can trust you. That you’re willing to play by my rules.”

“What rules?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

He leaned closer, his face inches from yours. “Simple ones. Behave. Don’t try to escape. And, most importantly, tell me everything I want to know.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized what he was asking. He wanted information—about you, your life, your vulnerabilities. He wanted control.

“Why should I trust you?” you spat, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s smile widened. “Because if you don’t, things will get much worse for you. But if you cooperate, I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. Like giving you this light bulb, for example.”

You swallowed hard, the enormity of your situation crashing down on you. You had to play along, at least for now. You had to buy yourself time.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “What do you want to know?”

“It’s not what I want to know per se, it’s what I want you to do in this moment,” Joel said, his voice chillingly calm.

You stared at him, fear and defiance battling for control. “What do you mean?”

Joel’s smile widened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but it sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. “I want you to relax,” he said, his fingers trailing down to play with the ends of your hair. “I want you to be... cooperative.”

You jerked your head away, trying to pull back from his touch. “Get away from me,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger and fear.

Joel’s grip tightened, and he yanked you closer, his eyes darkening. “You don’t have a choice,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing. “It’s this or death. Do you understand?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, terror flooding your veins. You struggled against him, but his strength was overwhelming. “I won’t do anything for you,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel’s expression hardened, and he pushed you back onto the mattress, pinning you down with a frightening ease. “You will,” he said, his face inches from yours. “You will, or I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”

You fought back, trying to twist away from him, but he held you fast. Panic surged through you, and you bit back a scream. “Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, tears welling in your eyes. “Just let me go.”

Joel’s grip tightened, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your face. “You have no idea how much worse things can get,” he whispered, his tone icy. “You will do what I say, or you will suffer.”

Tears streamed down your face as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. You were trapped, and there was no way out. Jess had your location, but would it be enough? Would she find you in time?

Joel released you slightly, still keeping a firm grip on your wrists. “Now,” he said, his voice softer but no less menacing, “are you going to be a good girl and cooperate, or do I need to show you what happens when you disobey?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his threat crushing your spirit. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’ll cooperate.”

Joel’s smile returned, and he released your wrists and undid the binding, sitting back on his heels. “Good,” he said, his tone almost cheerful. “That’s a good start. Now, let’s get you a bit more comfortable.”

He stood up and walked to the door, leaving you trembling on the mattress. You watched him, your mind racing with thoughts of escape, but the reality of your situation kept you paralyzed with fear.

Joel returned a moment later, holding the light bulb. He approached the dangling string and screwed the bulb into the socket. The room was suddenly bathed in harsh light, revealing the true extent of its dinginess.

“There,” Joel said, turning to face you. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He walked over to you, his presence looming ominously. “Now say thank you or I’ll leave you in the dark with the mice.”

You stayed on the mattress, savoring the small distance between you. “Thank-” Joel cut you off.

“No, no. Thank me properly,” he said, a sick grin spreading across his face. You wanted to smack it off, to fight back, but you knew it would only make things worse. “Crawl to me,” he commanded.

The words made your cheeks flush with humiliation. Your mind raced. If you wanted to escape, you needed to gain his trust. But was his trust worth your dignity? You hesitated, the internal conflict paralyzing you.

Joel's grin faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Do it,” he growled, a dangerous edge to his voice. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You took a deep breath, forcing down the surge of anger and humiliation. “I can’t crawl with my legs bound,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Unless you want me to flop around like a fish.”

Joel’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but he knelt down and untied your ankles. “There,” he said, standing back up. “Now, crawl.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly shifted onto your hands and knees. The dirty floor scraped against your skin, and every inch you moved felt like a mile. You could feel Joel’s gaze burning into you, his satisfaction palpable.

You reached him, your head bowed, heart pounding in your chest. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Good girl,” he said, reaching down to stroke your hair. You flinched at his touch, but forced yourself to stay still. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You bit back the bile rising in your throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. “What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Joel moved his hands to his belt, his eyes darkening with sinister intent. "I think you know what I want you and those pretty little lips to do," he whispered, his hand caressing your face. He finished unbuckling his belt, and as his pants fell to the floor with a thud, you flinched involuntarily. "Pull down my boxers," he ordered, taunting you as if you were a child.

You swallowed your pride, your mind racing with strategies to fight back. As you lowered his boxers, he taunted you further, waving his length near your face. Instinctively, you reached out with your hand, but he grabbed your hair roughly, yanking your head back. "I didn’t ask for your hands," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "I asked you to suck my dick."

Before you could react, he spat on you, his warm saliva trickling down your face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he shoved his length into your mouth forcefully, leaving you no time to prepare. The size of him stretched your mouth painfully, making you feel as if you might rip apart.

"This can’t be over soon enough," you thought, struggling against the overwhelming violation. But to your horror, you felt a strange sensation growing between your legs. His cock was hard, the taste of his precum salty on your tongue.

“Look at me,” he demanded. You resisted, focusing instead on his messy brown hair. You felt a wave of disgust at yourself for even noticing such a detail. This wasn’t the man you met on Tinder; this was a psychopath.

He gripped your head with both hands, forcing himself deeper into your throat. "That's it," he groaned, thrusting shallowly. The sound of your gagging and choking filled the room. "I don’t care if you fucking choke to death. Your throat feels like heaven."

As he continued, your mind raced for a plan. You took breaths through your nose, waiting for the perfect moment to make him pay for his actions. Just as you prepared to bite down, he thrust deeply one last time, and you felt a hot, steamy rope of his cum hit the back of your throat, its salty taste overwhelming.

Joel roughly pushed you away, pulling up his pants as you fell back, coughing and choking, your throat raw and dry. He walked over, fixing his belt. “See, it wasn’t that hard now, was it?” he sneered.

Before you could respond, he left the room, the only comfort in the dark basement now the solitary light bulb. You lay there, trembling with rage and humiliation, vowing silently that you would find a way to escape and make him pay for every moment of torment.

185 notes · View notes

yuff7e · 4 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ‎ ✨ 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 ✨

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

hello, everyone!! before i start, i want to let you know that i have received all your requests, and they are currently being worked on. so, please don't worry, your requests will be posted soon. i hope you like this adorable idea i came up with!! :) ఌ︎

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

✧.* 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

tanjiro had just returned to the butterfly mansion from a mission. throughout his time away, he had written to you consistently. each letter was filled with sentiments like "how are you, [name]? i miss you so much." or "can’t wait to see you!" however, not once did he mention his own birthday, an occasion that you had remembered for him.

tanjiro, consumed by his duties as a demon slayer and his responsibilities towards nezuko, had seemingly forgotten about things like his own birthday. his mind being preoccupied with the challenges he faced, overlooking the importance of the occasion. however, this didn’t stop you from reminding him just how special this celebration really is!

as he walked through the grassy terrain, tanjiro took in the sight of the mansion before him, letting out a soft sigh as he entered the estate. before he could even glance around, you suddenly jumped out from behind a corner, accompanied by the hashiras, balloons soaring in the air, confetti poppers going off, and a large sign that read "happy birthday tanjiro!" his surprise was evident as he stumbled back, taken aback by the effort you had put into the celebration.

"wh—oh!! [name]?" tanjiro gasped, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at everyone until a big smile slowly spread across his face. in a burst of emotion, he threw his arms out and pulled you into a tight, tired hug. you reciprocated, squeezing him with joy. "happy birthday, tanjiro! we all missed you so much!" you replied, smiling into his shoulder. tanjiro pulled back, meeting your gaze before turning to look at everyone again. "this is incredible, thank you guys so much..." mitsuri rushed over to join the hug, enveloping both you and tanjiro in her embrace.

"we’re so glad you're okay, tanjirooo!!~" mitsuri squealed, twirling both you and tanjiro around in her embrace before playfully dropping you both, leaving you a bit dizzy. "happy birthday!" she cheered, giving him a warm smile. the other hashiras also wished their birthday wishes to tanjiro before allowing him some time to freshen up. later, they went to opening presents, cutting the cake, and continuing the celebrations. it was undeniably one of the best birthdays tanjiro had ever experienced, and he wouldn't change a thing about it.

✧.* 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

inosuke was tired, mad, and starving all at once, and all he wanted was to see you. he had been away on some dumb mission for way too long, and he was really missing you. he stuck to you like glue, following you around everywhere, and thinking about you non-stop while he was away. inosuke wouldn't call himself clingy, but he definitely craved your company after being apart for so long.

finally reaching the butterfly mansion, as soon as inosuke caught sight of the building, he sprinted straight towards it. bursting through the doors, he shouted out for you, "[name]!! [na—" but before he could finish, he was swiftly tackled to the ground, causing his boar mask to go flying off his head. jumping up in a fit of rage at the sudden attack, inosuke was about to retaliate until he realized it was you. and once he saw you, he screamed.

"[name]?! what the hell is this?! i get you're happy to see me, but calm down, you idiot!" inosuke exclaimed, grabbing your shirt in a mix of affection and frustration. before he could continue scolding you, sudden confetti poppers and balloons startled him, causing him to jump back, pulling you along. shielding you from the noise, inosuke was bewildered by the unexpected chaos. birthdays were a foreign concept to him; he only knew that he got older and would start to look different, but that was about it. so when you wished him a happy birthday and hugged him, his confusion was evident.

"it’s your birthday, you dummy!! you were born on this very day, how does that make you feel?" you asked, placing your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side with a mischievous grin. inosuke stared at you in bewilderment, genuinely confused. "what’s a birpduy?" he asked, standing awkwardly. rolling your eyes at his confusion, you clarified, "no, silly, birthday. it’s the day you were born! you celebrate it?" suddenly, it clicked. you were celebrating him, the king of the mountains, lord inosuke himself! the realization dawned on him - there's a day dedicated to him?! how incredible!

"oh, right!! the day where you all bow down to me!! lord inosuke, the king of the mountains!! hahah!! i should've seen this coming. hmph!!" inosuke declared proudly, standing tall and confident. you and the hashiras behind you looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback by his response. while inosuke may not fully grasp the true meaning of birthdays, at least he seemed to get the hang of it..?

eventually, you all decided to open presents and cut the cake, and inosuke was loving it. he practically took charge, ordering everyone around and enthusiastically devouring the cake until you intervened, telling him to slow down. later that night, as you both lay on your shared futon (inosuke clearly unaware of personal space), he turned to you and asked, "did you do all of that for me today?" you looked at him and replied, "i did it because it's a day worth celebrating, but also... because i missed you." in response, inosuke gawked at you giddily, pulling you into a tight embrace before promptly falling asleep, snoring loudly in your face not even two seconds later.

✧.* 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

zenitsu woke up early in the morning, not ready for another day of awful training. when he noticed you were missing, he jumped up in alarm. tanjiro and Inosuke were gone too! where did everyone go?! in a panic, he dashed out of the room, sprinting down the hall and taking the corner too fast. suddenly, he crashed into someone, and the impact knocked him out cold...

after a few moments, he slowly blinked his eyes open, only to find you and the hashiras peering down at him. in your hands, a large sign caught his attention, while colorful balloons adorned the ceiling. as he fully regained consciousness, confetti poppers went off, balloons floated around the room, and festive chaos ensued. startled, he sat up abruptly, his heart racing with alarm, until he locked eyes with you and finally understood what was unfolding before him...!!

"wha—[name]?! is this for my birthday?!" zenitsu exclaimed excitedly, leaping into your arms. "ohhh myy [name]-chan~ you remembered my birthday!! i’m so happy!!" overcome with joy, he tightly embraced you, swaying you from side to side, not even pausing to let you catch your breath or offer birthday wishes. "zenitsu—happy—birthday..!!" you managed to squeeze out amidst the overwhelming squeeze of his embrace. finally releasing you, he pulled you in front of him, his face flushed with emotion. "this is the best gift ever!!" a shaky grin remained on his blushing face, his eyes shimmering with gratitude and happiness.

you chuckle at his silly reaction, playfully bonking him on the head with your fist as you grin at his happy face. the hashiras join in, making their way toward him to celebrate, opening presents, cutting cake, and enjoying the festivities. tanjiro and inosukes presence adds to the joy as you all hang out together, playing silly games like white elephant and charades. zenitsu’s birthday celebration definitely drained the energy out of everyone with all the fun and excitement.

as night fell and the quiet settled in, zenitsu took a moment to express his gratitude for the surprise, sharing with you how much it meant to him and how no one had ever done something like that for him before. he conveyed that he would treasure the memory forever, touched by the thoughtfulness and love shown to him on his special day.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

#demon slayer #demon slayer kny squad #demon slayer kny #demon slayer boys #demon slayer x reader #kny squad x reader #kny squad #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x female reader #tanjiro x male reader #inosuke x reader #inosuke x female reader #inosuke x male reader #zenitsu x reader #zenitsu x female reader #zenitsu x male reader

192 notes · View notes

abyssal-werewolf · 8 months ago

Text

Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

#alterhuman #otherkin #alterhumanity #nonhuman #nonhumanity #plurality #psychological otherkin #therian #fluid kintypes

308 notes · View notes

demonslayerunhinged · 3 months ago

Text

Unhinged rant >:(

Demon Slayer fandom discourse

I want to start this by saying, I know that Demon Slayer isn't an explicitly queer manga/anime because Shōnen Jump, but I believe that Demon Slayer is for the queers and has lots of themes that we can identify with like love, acceptance, loss, guilt and strength.

Despite what these stupid, smelly, ignorant, power-scaling, non-ass-washing, Cheetos-dust-snorting, once-a-month-showering, dude-bros would have you believe, Demon Slayer isn't just another battle Shōnen anime/manga, it's a love story and about the perseverance of the human spirit and if that doesn't speak to the queer experience then I don't know what does.

Plus, I don't know how Gotogue-sensei is as a person, but I think the fact that she managed to make one of the kindest mcs in shōnen speaks volumes about her disposition. I don't think she would be one to reject queer fans identifying with her story so well.

In these recent times, it seems like everything is going to shit, the world is slowly regressing into the dark ages destroying decades of progress and trying to distract ourselves from all this by engaging with the fandoms we love is hard because everything seems to cater to cis, straight, white men.

To be honest, I created this blog mostly out of spite, but I also wanted to carve out a tiny space for myself where I can talk out of my ass and not have some decrepit reddit dude bro go all 'well, ackshually ☝🤓' on me, and I'm happy to have met so many like-minded people.

So, I've compiled a list of answers to the common types of nonsense drivel these fuckers post in response to shipping and queer discussions and theories about Demon Slayer. You can copy and paste whenever and wherever you encounter these black holes of ignorance and stupidity if you want.

In the Taisho era, there were no gay/queer people: This is one of the dumbest statements I've ever heard, and the fact that it's a really common response really shows how we've failed as a society. Queer people have existed for ages all over the world, Japan has an extensive queer history. Demon Slayer is based on samurai culture and samurai culture was really, really, really, really, really, really, really gay. Sure, it had rigid roles, but that doesn't make it any less queer. A quick Google search would go a long way to nourish that dried-out, shrivelled husk you call a brain. Go read a book you walking condom ad, your parents and education system have obviously failed you.

It's forcing sexuality into the story: We literally had a whole season dedicated to the mcs going to the 'entertainment district', we have a sexy man with three wives who talks about 'loving' them all equally, we have the abundant male fanservice, one of the mcs talks about women on the daily, we have a boy who eats demons and is horny shy around girls all the time, we have his brother who exposes his tits because he's proud of them, we have a demon who was essentially a sexual predator that targeted 16-year-old girls and ate them, the main villain shape-shifts into a woman to 'get' information as a Geisha, we have a girl who literally lusts after almost everyone she meets but yea no lets not force sexuality into it 🙄.

I don't care: Okay cool, but I value your opinion as much as I value the shit I took this morning.

It's who they are as a character that matters: Sexuality is a part of a person's character. Your sexuality defines your experiences, decisions, options and outlook on life. That's why you as a straight man can be so ignorant.

It's forced*(I really hate this one): Honestly, fuck you. Why is it that you only think something is forced when it doesn't revolve around you and your experiences? You guys are fine with tons of anime/manga that sexualize women and girls to an insane degree even when it doesn't make sense, but that doesn't stop you from consuming and glazing the hell out of the authors, but when we talk about including queer characters suddenly it's forced? Your existence is forced, and you can just eat shit.

I don't like it: Who the fuck do you think you are dictating how other people consume and interpret the media they consume? How about you go hump your smelly, cum-encrusted anime body pillow.

Men can be touchy/emotional with each other without it being gay, it's just our western standards: No it isn't the majority of shipping activities and works come from Japan, which wouldn't happen if it was just part of their culture. We're not stupid, we know men and boys can be friends without it being sexual, and we know when a friendship is just that, and then we know when two guys are straight up pining for one another.

It's not canon/the mangaka didn't explicitly state it: They can't because of Shōnen Jump, so a lot of them pass off information about a character through subtext, metaphors and allegories. They also don't have to, things don't have to outright stated or 'canon' for them to make sense and if you need them to be so for you to understand or enjoy the story then a moment of silence for your head since it's without a brain.

It's not common: Despite Shōnen Jump, there are lots of mainstream anime/manga that have queer characters: One Punch Man, Hunter x Hunter, Dr. Stone, Windbreaker, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Naruto, Gintama, Dragon Ball Z, My Hero Academia, Fairy Tail, One Piece, Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Blue Period and that's not to talk of the ones with queer subtext like I dunno ALL Sports anime/manga to ever exist!

Why do you look for LGBTQ in everything?: It might be hard for straights to understand but growing up queer and looking for a connection causes us to develop what we call a gaydar that helps us identify characteristics, mannerisms, features and vibes from a person that screams 'ONE OF US! ONE OF US!'. It's only natural, and our gaydar doesn't suddenly turn off when we're consuming media, especially when it's media that we love and hold dear to our hearts. It doesn't matter if the mangaka inserted these characteristics intentionally or not, that doesn't stop us from picking up on them, and why should it?

Shipping is stupid: So is power-scaling, but that doesn't stop you assholes from making thousands of posts, creating YouTube channels and sharing content about it and cramming it down our throats. It's even worse because it's from grown-ass men.

The characters have no chemistry/they hate each other: A lot of queer ships have more chemistry, history, interactions, personality and development than a lot of 'canon' straight couples. It's literally a trope in media that all a man and a woman need to be in a relationship is to be in close proximity to each other, then their relationship goes on to be drier than salted crackers in silicone packets scattered in the Sahara desert. Well, I guess you can't blame the creators, you write what you know after all.

I know this is a lot and I know how angry I sound right now, but I'm so sick and so tired of all these guys who are as useful to the human race as pieces of freshly shat out dog turds that have been thrown in the grass by the sidewalk in a hot summer afternoon, who can't see past their lice-infested neck beards trying to make something as colorful, interesting, joyful and queer as anime and the fandoms fit their own boring, stupid and misogynistic worldview.

In Conclusion, Demon Slayer is amazing, horny* and unbelievably queer.

*I'm talking about the male fanservice btw :)

137 notes · View notes

whatudowhennooneseesyou · 4 months ago

Note

Hi beautiful, I hope your day is going well😽

So I have some 18+ ateez questions/hard thoughts if you’ll indulge me.

I’ll start with mingi since he’s my bias lol.

Switch but sub leaning mg yes?

Soooo….. my question for you is, what do you think it’ll take to get dom mg? I personally don’t think jealousy, I think he’s too soft for that.😅

I see him getting whiny and feeling heavy hearted if let’s say, his partner was to flirt with others to get a rise out of him. Rather than getting possessive and that let me remind you who you belong to energy. I feel 50/50 about teasing I think teasing him may bring out his dom side but then again it could also bring out his needy subby side…

Of course you could just ask him straight out to take charge but that doesn’t exactly equate to being dominant… I don’t think when he doms he’ll be a hard dom at all, more of a soft dom is what I think. But how would you achieve that side of him because I definitely think he has a more assertive/dom side to him but again how? what will get him to show that side, and what do you think that side would be like.

Moving onto hwa, my bias wrecker.

100% care giver energy.

with that being said do you think he’d like being taken care of and prioritized the way he would do his partner. In a non s and s context.

In a more s context do you think he’d allow himself to just enjoy whatever his partner has in store for him without reciprocating at all?

I personally don’t think so, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. I personally think he’d get the most pleasure from pleasing his partner in any way more than anything.

Of course I don’t think he’d hate being taken care of, I just think he’d rather be the one taking care of his partner than the other way around in general..

(Only two members because I don’t want to overwhelm you with a super long ask..)

Oooh okay so I'm on the train and I have pushed this aside so I can finally give this ask the detail and validation it deserves because these make AMAZING points and insight!

Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts, don't take it too seriously.

Why is Mingi your bias? I love learning about why ppl bias certain members and their reasoning behind it.

In my mind, Mingi is a switch with a sub leaning and I honestly do feel him getting jealous and/or possessive would flip that switch into dom!mingi territory.

The thing about Mingi though is he's a smart man and he'll figure out probably whether you're flirting with others to get a rile out of him and pls the man is a Leo sun-

So I think the chances of him flirting with another girl out of spite is more likely because the man is needy but he can also be BRATTY too.

I honestly think he has more brat tendencies in him than Wooyoung but he just hides it better.

However- I will also say that another way for him to flip into dom!mingi is maybe after a fight where he knows you're upset OR if you're feeling insecure about an aspect of the relationship.

He's the ultimate care-giver/ pleasure switch so omg you don't think he loves you enough? What has he not been doing right??

And so I feel this would push him into a headspace of seeking control as a means to 'prove himself' by being dominant and worshipping you...but still in a needy, soft-hearted way.

'My baby feels good yeah? I know you do but I want to hear you say it, it makes me so hard when I hear you hear you say it'

Ooh okay so Hwa is definitely living with that care-giver complex but he definitely needs some reciprocation and I can attest to this because I'm like an Aries stellium like him.

He's an Aries Mars and what makes them harder than a brick is FEELING DESIRED!!! They need to know you want this as bad as they do!!

It's a big reason why he becomes a different person on stage because when he's performing and he can feel the audience consumed by his presence-

Oh honey it unlocks a desire in him that's almost primal.

It's why a lot of ppl are like 'why is Seonghwa still performing after his grandfather has passed?'

And it's because the adrenaline/testosterone/dopamine effect he has whilst performing is helping him grieve and process those feelings- us Aries work well under pressure for a reason.

So yes while I feel he still prefers to give rather than receive, he has to feel like your desire and needs are matching his in the moment.

So, I do feel in moments of vulnerability that he would let you take care of him and can just lay back and just receive- he would probably have to reciprocate like a day later or so.

But sex is an important love language for him so he'd use anything as an excuse to be intimate.

You could buy him a lego set he's been anxiously anticipating for and he would say thank you by wanting to rock your world-

He's an Aries Mars after all so he prefers quickies and short sessions to an endless round of love-making.

So in summary, Seonghwa is more of an attention-whore than most people expect.

'Did you see Mommy up on stage my precious, little star mmmh?? How wet did I make you??? Is your cunt all needy because of me?'

Feel free to send in more thoughts about the other members, it'll just take awhile for me to respond haha

#ateez hard hours #atz hard hours #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #mingi x reader #seonghwa x reader #anon ask #answered ask #astrology ask #astrology talk with ruby #ateez imagines #atz imagines

77 notes · View notes

amelee23 · 1 year ago

Text

I didn't accidentally love you | Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Hopelessly romantic fluff, angst, poetry, a little comedy

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x gender neutral reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: reader is an insecure poet, heartbreak, bad self esteem, poetry clubs, Hyunjin is dripping charisma, shameless flirting, reader thinks hyun is a jerk for like a second, reader.exe stops working multiple times, reader gets shy, i just HAD to be funny at the end OKAY

Synopsys: Your friends forced you to become part of a poetry club, and when you receive a task to write a poem about sadness, you realize you accidentally write it about Hyunjin, the guy you had a crush on and tried to forget about. And he finds out.

A/N: I promised @astraystayyh to write this, here you go sugar <3

Artists have many moments of weakness.

Those moments when you start to question your craft, whether you're even worthy of being called an 'artist' or you're just a fleeting talent that is going to wash away with time, just like the hobby or interest of a preschooler. You inquire if you're worthy staining pages with ink, using the words of the dictionary just to feel the high of belonging - the high of doing show and tell with your emotions like it's a new toy your parents gifted you; or you should just remain a consumer, and observe the beauty that lies in others, the beauty others can create. Could your craft ever rise to all these expectations?

But what else is there to life, if not making art?

Perhaps you've always been clinically insane, but you've only truly felt alive when you felt the beauty of the world - dark and bright alike - conveyed through you in the form of poetry and words, sent by the angels above for a mere human to toy with. So you pick up the pencil again.

The paper before you is blank, and you're frankly uncomfortable in the position you are in, notebook on your thighs, back curved over the page as if you're shielding unwritten words from the sun itself to not read them. But you've always felt more at ease writing outside, under the natural light of the sky, with the clouds passing by carelessly, like they don't have doubts about their worth like a human would. But the stares of the students passing by are not exactly comfortable. You take a breath and urge yourself to focus; they don't care about what you're doing, they're just heading to their classes, living their lives (hopefully) with that same hunger you have for art, for their chosen subjects.

You face your paper again and remember the prompt you were given - writing a poem involving the feeling of sadness - that you're supposed to hand over to the club in a couple of days. Insecurities and procrastination led you to keep putting it off, but the dread of a deadline has always been a great motivation for humanity. Your friends urged you towards this, to join the poetry club of your university - it's a small, non-profit club put together by a bunch of random art and literature students. It's so non-profit in fact, that it barely has any funding at all. They had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to host the club meetings every week in the sculpting room - and that, late in the day, when the cleaning staff unlocks the doors for their cleaning sweep. You sit on awkward, stained chairs, and make sure to raise your feet up one by one to not stand in the way of the mop and brooms. But the club members would withstand anything, and would pretty much commit homicide to keep the club running. One more reason why, when faced with the passion and fighting spirit your club mates have, you wonder if you even have a space with them. You had to be shoved - one could say even blackmailed - by your friends to take the step forward and join, so you could be able to share your craft with others. You were perfectly happy letting your poems stack up in endless notebooks on top of your dusty bookcase. You didn't feel the need to share them, per se - but everyone else insisted it would have been a crime to keep them to yourself selfishly like that.

Sadness, sadness. You need to embody sadness for this prompt. You look around for inspiration, but there is no sad sight to see. The sky is clear, in colors of baby blue and soft whites, the branches of the green, young trees are barely even swaying in the wind, and there's college students laughing all around. Has anything sad happened in your life lately? Not really, nothing to inspire poems at least. Not that you are bursting at the seams with happiness, but you believed no one really is. There's a lot going on behind the cover of every human passing by, and even if all you can feel is the slight shoulder brush of a stranger, you do know those shoulders carry as much, if not even more weight than yours.

That's it. You start writing, and word by word they flow, one line, two lines until you have seven of them - you even managed to rhyme! It's not much, but it's honest work. Since there is no one close by, you begin to read the poem out loud softly. Hearing what you wrote always helps you perfect the rhymes, the punctuation and change around words if they sound too awkward. After erasing, rewriting and erasing again just to end up redoing the whole last two lines, you finally thought it was good enough.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

You smile, because for a split second you actually think your poem sounds really good. But then, the insecurities crash on top of you again. Your club mates are probably writing long, heart-wrenching poems that are going to make you cry when you read them. Your idea will surely seem shallow and rushed in comparison to theirs. With a sigh, you wish to be able to just give yourself this one. Tell yourself you did good enough by trying and move on - brush it off and think progressively, that your next poem is going to be even better than this one. But you don't truly feel that way, so you begin to beautify the first letter of every line with calligraphic letters to overcompensate for the lack of skill you feel you have. The capital H at the beginning of the first line, the capital Y at the beginning of the second line and so on; you turn them into beautiful, aesthetic calligraphy as much to your ability. In the end, you just think you've made a mess, and that there is simply too much ink on the page now.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

Oh no.

Your eyes open wide and you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The first letter of every single line, from top to bottom, spell HYUNJIN. The name of the boy you swore to yourself you've moved on from.

Hyunjin, who spoke about life as if it was art itself and spoke about art as if it was life itself.

Hyunjin, with the calm and warm voice - quiet and observant and yet, from the ocean in his eyes, bathed in a soft moonlight, it always seemed like his mind was in faraway lands, dreaming, humming, sighing before a field of lilies in the middle of the night.

Hyunjin, who seemed like through every song he listened to and sang, every poem he read and wrote, every painting he saw and painted, he dicovered all the secrets the universe had. As if human life was a melancholic, nostalgic memory to him, life experiencing itself all over again - he seemed so kind, so unfazed, so utterly in love with existence.

Hyunjin, who read every single one of your poems and told you he'd never allow you to leave the club. He was always so warm, you could hardly believe he wasn't doing it out of habit, spreading his magical touch over the wounds in your heart just like he would with anyone else. But it wasn't his fault you always questioned your worth.

Hyunjin, with whom you've fallen in love with gravely. For every smile he showed around you, for every squeal-like laugh he gifted you, for every time he held your hand gently to calm your nerves, you added one more day to the delusion of hanging on to him.

Hyunjin, who was merely a pipe dream.

He is the co-leader of the poetry club you're in. That's why you've always considered his compliments and encouragements to be just him doing his job - and yet they continued to fuel that foolish fire of yours for far too long. You never confessed to him, of course. But there would be nothing wrong with you two dating, from an ethical point of view. This is just a poetry club ran by students, it's not like having a crush on your boss. But still, the title of co-leader put him above you in a way you couldn't describe. Maybe it's the fact that he has more experience in art. Maybe it's the fact that he's more skillful. Maybe it's the fact that he's taught you many techniques and actually became a figure to rely on. Therefore he was still above you in a way, and so was the leader.

The leader of the club, she resembled Hyunjin in an almost eerie way. People do say, someone who is beautiful on the inside will always radiate beauty on the outside, too. That was a clear description of both of them. She too, was a romantic and an artist, she had a feather light laugh, star like freckles dusting her face, and eyes that could hold galaxies. She was the end of Hyunjin's sentences and the beginning of his thoughts. They made an incredible pair and their teamwork was impeccable as leaders. They weren't dating, but your heart kept telling you, that one day they will. It would be simply impossible for two souls so perfectly woven for each other to simply separate and go their different ways. And yet, you still foolishly had fallen for Hyunjin and every single week, the pain in your chest grew.

Oh, it hurt. It shouldn't have, really. You were just a newcomer being silly and they were fit for a lifetime. You had no chance nor the courage to hope and dream a miracle would land you in Hyunjin's loving arms. She wasn't to blame, he wasn't to blame, your pain was fully your fault. You fell in love and you had to fix it. So you made an oath with yourself to let it go, get those heavy rocks off of your lungs and allow yourself to breathe. There will be other boys in your life. They will not be Hyunjin, but other boys will exist.

You thought you were done with the tears, with the heartache and the love-sick poems. But it seemed you did have one more poem left in you, and it bubbled to the surface.

If the sun wasn't that bright, you wouldn't even have noticed the shadow of someone looming over you. You heard a melodic hum above your head and when you looked up, your heart dropped.

"What do we have here?" He teased, snatching your notebook right out of your hands. You couldn't even react in time, he was already standing up before you, reading the contents of your poem. His lips hung slightly open and he let out a gasp, and you really thought poetry was perhaps the only way to describe the look on his face. You watched his eyes travel the page, his chest deflating very rarely as if he was holding his breath. He looked surprised, but it wasn't an anxious type of bewilderment, nor an excited one either. He was looking at your notebook as if it was some sort of mythical creature, something that shouldn't possibly exist-

And then his eyes found yours. They wrecked you from the inside out, a brown so blown out, so dark, unalike what you've seen before. There was no more serene skies and calm seas in his eyes, there was a storm, a hurricane - a complete blackout. He looked frightened. Maybe he was in fact, still shaken by the secrets of the universe. Maybe humans are not supposed to know what mythological creatures actually look like. Maybe denying their existence would be easier on the collective-

"I can explain!" You jump up from the bench you were seated on. "That was an accident - it's not what it looks like!" He's not listening to you. His mind has gone to those faraway lands again, and he's dreaming while he glances at the page. You move to take the notebook away from him, but he raises it above his head. He's too tall to reach, so you don't even try.

"Well." He speaks, softly, anxiously, awkwardly. He softly lowers the notebook, but he holds it tight to his chest. He won't let you take it back. "I think now it's only fair I dedicate my poetry to you as well." Now it's your turn to remain with your mouth agape. You're blinking at him, and you don't realize you're looking at him exactly the same way he looked at you a minute ago. You're both scared and yet in marvel, and he takes a step closer. You inhale sharply, but it gets stuck in your throat. You can't breathe, your stomach is tense, and a shiver is shaking the fingers of your hands. His eyes are transfixed on yours, and he moves even closer, he's too close - and he asks for permission. "If you'll allow me?"

He's asking you to become his muse.

But you couldn't answer him even if you wanted to. It's embarrassing, but the only thing you can muster is a whimper.

He continues to stare at your face, until slowly and gradually a smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he lets out a giggle. He waves a hand in front of your face and cocks an eyebrow, in an attempt to bring you out of your daze. You're so confused you could die.

Was the last few minutes just a joke? Was he just mocking you-? He must have been. Nothing is as good as it seems, and Hwang Hyunjin couldn't be any different. Maybe he was just a self centered jerk under the dreamy romantic aura he carried. It would be easier to start hating him than to continue helplessly liking him, right?

You barely register Hyunjin putting your spiral notebook down on the bench to gently rip out the page with the poem. He folds the page in two and then hands you your notebook back.

"As the co-leader of the club, I reject your entry. You must write another poem, I'm confiscating this one." You cock your head. What is he saying? Is this still, all part of the joke?

"What- what are you- what are you gonna do with it?" You manage to spew out a sentence, not that it was the most important question to ask. Hyunjin raises his shoulders.

"Put it on my wall? Tape it in my journal? I'll find a place." He answers nonchalantly. You see his eyebrows dance on his face as he thinks for a second, then his expression tells you he got an idea. "Or... I could give it back to you... If you visit the seashore with me."

You side eye him and furrow your brows. "To do what?" He raises his shoulders again.

"I need inspiration for all of the poems I'm gonna start writing about you." He's calm, almost too calm as he says it, and he begins to smile once more as he watches your mouth hang open again.

"Are you making fun of me?" You finally ask, and Hyunjin looks downright offended. He raises his eyebrows, and comically cranes his neck back, pointing a finger at himself and then at you.

"ME? Make fun of YOU? Why? I'm... asking you out on a date..." And you're somehow supposed to process that information without finding a million excuses why this shouldn't be happening and wouldn't be happening. But it is happening.

"So you're not joking?"

"No?" He replies shaking his head.

"You're being serious."

"Yeah.." He replies, this time nodding his head.

"Seriously?" He laughs, finding you adorable.

"Seriously." Suddenly, the situations is a little too real and too much to take. Your hopelessly romantic and yet heavily insecure brain almost ruined a moment you could have only dreamt about, and you almost thought Hyunjin was a jerk. You hide your face in your hands and let out a muffled whine. Hyunjin is extremely amused, and feeling a little playful, he comes closer and cocks his head close to your face. You can't see him, but you peek through your fingers when you hear him speak again. "So is that a yes?" You watch glimpses of his face between your fingers and nod back at him. "Great then!" His face is so bright, and you can't hide your eyes from his anymore. Today, you saw how his eyes looked with a storm in them, but now they look different once more - like a sunrise above a beach, it's all so golden and full of life, sweet like honey and rich like gold. Warmth spreads through your chest, and he places a hand gently on your arm. His thumb caresses your bicep for a few seconds. "I'll text you the details."

You feel drunk, as his touch leaves your body but still lingers. He walks away to his next class, but he turns around briefly to remind you of your task.

"And don't forget you have to write a new poem until Thursday!" He waives the page he stole from you between his fingers and laughs his ass off at the exasperated sigh you give in return and the angry squint and pout.

You're pretty sure he didn't believe you when you said that poem was an accident. And he never will, even when you try to explain it to him on your first date. And on the second date you swear it wasn't on purpose, and on the third date you tell him for just how long you've liked him and how you tried to let him go. And on the fourth date he tells you he knows your poem wasn't an accident no matter what you think or say. And on the fifth, you agree with him.

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

If you like my work, consider donating so I can continue writing!

649 notes · View notes