#how much pain and turmoil am I talking here

[clegfly]

everything is okay au? wholesomeness?!?!? FLUFF?!?!?!?

not on my watch

introducing “everything is wrong au” fuckers, the au with maximum angst

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), breeding kink, clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

[tojisun]

Poor poor hockey! Simon :(

he lost and now the only thing to make him feel better is a good bj

this made me twitch so here u are my love !!!

!! comfort/smut - minors dni; hockey au; praises (in a tender way and but also in a kink way); D/s-ish; some semblance of plot ig // 2.4k words (LMAO)

the horn blows, marking the end of the game and, with that, the end of spec gru’s season.

it was heartbreaking to watch the way the boys' bodies slump, their loss descending onto them like heavy rain. the arena shakes, screams from the opposing team's fans piercing your ears, but you can't blame them, really—they won on home ice, against the leviathan of the league. it is a tremendous win for them, and a devastating loss for your side.

you feel your hand getting squeezed and you turn, looking at johnny's fiancee, seeing the way her own face is crumpled in her sadness.

"i guess that's that, huh?" she says, comforting, her voice a quiet whisper that was almost devoured by the loud cheers.

sometimes you forget that she's an athlete too; that she feels things a lot more intense than you do because she understands the grapple. the desperation. the way how everything you give and everything you put out is, at the end, not enough.

you sniffle, holding her hand tighter.

"i'm so proud of 'em," you say wetly, unable to compartmentalize your grief.

she laughs, the sound of it so empty of any humour but not any less kind.

“i am too.”

you both turn your gazes back to the rink and watch the teams shake hands with each other, the players finally amiable like they hadn’t just been tussling on ice, all sparked by the sharp tension that buzzed throughout their play.

you watch as simon takes a lap, patting the backs of his team members with his lips pursed, but otherwise he is put together. and yet here you are, shaking, lips wobbling, nose twitching because you are trying your best not to cry. it isn’t like you were the one who lost so you wonder why your heart twinges with so much pain; why is it that you are the one holding back the tears?

simon turns to the crowd, roving his eyes past bodies, until they finally lock on you. his lips twitch into a smile; you give him what you hope is a big one—the type of smile that will let him know how in awe you are of him, win or not.

they skate away and you all shuffle out, preparing for the flight back home.

.

it was expected for the players to fly back home together—a semblance of normalcy even amidst the staggering defeat. it was their last attempt at showing sportsmanship; at showing the hounding media that despite the abrupt end of their season, they remained close-knit. 

simon understands it, of course. it was a media play, one that contends with the politics of the league, but it was difficult to act impartially, especially when they were making their way back, empty-handed, from the home ice of the team that had defeated them. it was difficult to not show the turmoil in their hearts, but they all managed to hold their heads up high during the exit and that was that.

they didn’t talk about it much, avoiding that last game as best as they could until the briefing, but hunger thrums in their jowls—no one was satisfied with being the second best. 

the promise of a better next season hung above them, but it is still so unreachable.

simon feels angrier than usual, unable to stop himself from taking this loss personally. like what costed them their win were only his shortcomings; like this defeat was his sole failure because he did promise to lead his team on ice, with price unable to stand as their official captain during the games. he had promised to score the most, after all, and had promised to keep the opposing puck out of price’s net, but he failed in both and, well, here they are.

back home, anguished. defeated.

he–

simon's phone rings, a quiet trill that echoes in the empty locker room. 

he shoots awake from the swirl of his thoughts, sluggish as he pulls it out of his bag. he expected it to be laswell or keller, or maybe their coach, but simon feels his world tilt when he sees your name flashing on his screen. and just like that, like he wasn’t even drowning in his self-doubt and self-hatred, simon feels like he can breathe again. 

he feels lighter, his anguish seeping out of his pores, leaving him with nothing but his flesh and his heart and his love. 

simon picks up the call, hears your voice, then he is up and running back home. 

.

there is a sense of urgency in the way he finds you, his cold body folding into the warm touch of your own. you gasped out his name, surprised at how fast you have him back in your arms after a whole season of flying and leaving and pursuing his chance at the cup—

“i’m home, petal,” simon murmurs, his voice deep and beautiful and longing, and you giggle, your eyes watering, before you nuzzle into his chest.

he breathes you in, the faint smell of ozone and rain and something distinctly flowery fills his nose, and somehow this is what grounds him, his blood spiking as desire and need fill him up instead.

and it trickles into him like wafting smoke—soft, gentle, cascading like a warm kiss. it is still intense, hungry, but it is tender. quiet. like everything about simon’s buzzed energy had transformed into this careful folding. the anger, the desperation, all of it snuffed out for a vulnerable moment.

“baby,” you begin, voice muffled from where your head is still pressed on his chest. “love, you did so well.”

he shakes, his words failing him now. 

you pull back just enough and he sees the glazed look in your eyes as you stare up at him, your lips curled in your smile. “i’m so proud of you, si.” 

his heart stutters inside the cages of his ribs, jumping, before it lodges itself in his throat. 

you giggle at his wordless tremors and press close again, your body melting onto his again, before you tip your head back to his chest but this time, instead of a nuzzle, you greet his beating heart with a kiss. one that is so light he barely feels it from his shirt, but simon feels so shaken. 

he feels so raw. 

you are holding him like he is the best thing in this world. like all his bulk and his size and his anger is still worth this softness.

“i need you,” he croaks out, unable to stop the way his feelings bloat and rage in the pit of his stomach. 

“you have all of me,” you reply, breathless, your eyes still blown open, wide and full of wonder. then they shift, turning sharper, gaining edge; still careful, coaxing, but overwhelming. “tell me, my love. tell me how you need me.”

“fuck,” simon rasps out, feeling like he’s running out of air. his fingers twitch, digging deep into your skin, feeling it mould under his touch.

he’s missed this, alright. he’s—

“mouth,” he finally manages to bite out. “wan’ feel your mouth, love.”

“okay,” you croon, kissing his pec again. “sit f’me?”

simon doesn’t even have it in him to feel embarrassed about the way he falls to his ass on the plush mattress, bouncing a little bit because of the force, before he spreads his legs open, so, so desperate. 

you have your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, canines dimpling the flesh, and simon feels like he is burning from the inside; doused with the fires of need, spark untamable, licking up, up, up.

“come on, firelily,” he rumbles, needy. “c’mere an’ kiss me.”

you huff, fond, and fall to your knees, scooting close to him. 

it was silent as you fumble with his sweats, tugging at the drawstring and grumbling when the hem gets snugged on his hips. simon chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face before he juts up just enough to give you room to slide his sweats and his boxers down.

the cool air makes him tremble and you murmur something. it was so faint that he doesn’t get to catch what it was, but his curiosity sizzles at the sight of you licking your palm, shyly with how you refuse to meet his eyes. he almost teases you, his cheeks round with giddiness, but then you wrapped your fist around his half-chub, and his sanity is razed. 

simon hisses, eyes fluttering close at the warm curl of pleasure.

jesus. he’s missed the feeling of this; your hand is softer, more supple, around his cock. it was so different from when it was his own fist rubbing himself, beating at his angrily flushed cock with desperation only for his peak to tip over mutedly, and not enough to truly satiate his hunger.

but this? fuck. 

simon doesn’t even realize he’s whimpering, his head thrown back at the curious pace of your hand, not really jerking him off but mapping along his veins almost in quiet awe. 

“‘m not gon’ last long if you–” he gasps at a particular twist. “if you keep doing that.”

“oh, no we can’t have that,” you tease, chuckling, and simon’s reply builds on the tip of his tongue, cheeky, but then you’re already moving, your back folding, your breath hitting his sensitive head.

his thighs tense in his anticipation, his stomach locking. you flit your eyes up at him, pupils blown wide in your own ragged need, before he jerks at the feeling of your tongue pressing on the underside of his cock, licking up, and teasing his leaking slit.

simon moans, guttural, his voice caught on the back of his throat. he drops his hands to his sides, fisting at the sheets as you keep licking, teasing his slit and tracing his veins, lapping at his cock so messily. 

if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re inexperienced; all sloppy and curious, like you’re attempting things you’ve probably seen in porn, but then you close the ring of your mouth around the bulbed head, suckling like it’s a goddamn loli, while your hands drop to squeeze his balls, and simon’s gone. 

“shit-!” he gasps out, battling air like he’s back on ice. 

he bucks his hips forward, unable to help himself, and only stops at the warbled sound of your surprise.

“fuck,” he hisses, hand coming up to swipe the hair from your sweaty face. “i’m sorry, darlin’. didn’t mean t’force it down. s’just that y’r so good.”

he keeps petting your cheek, overtaken by his desires and no longer able to stop the string of words trickling from his heart. “missed you lots, swee’art. missed you so much—take me deeper?”

your cheeks hollow as you hum, so obedient for him.

“yeah, jus’ like that,” simon trills, his chest rising as he breathes in deeply. his stomach flexes at the feeling of you swallowing more of him, taking his thickness past your gummy cheeks and into the wet vice of your throat. “shit, baby. christ. y’feel so fuckin’ good ‘round me. so perfect an’ wet.” he giggles, drunken in his bliss. “such a messy baby y’are. so sloppy. y’wanted my cock that much, din’ya? so hungry f’r it.”

there’s a wet slurp when he hits the deepest you could allow him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. you choke, your body lurching in protest, but simon is at the throes of his pleasure and his rational thoughts are devoured by his gluttonous need, and simon knows it is wrong to ask but—

“hold it in? can you do that f’r me, love?” he croons, his voice curling in his euphoria.

he knows this is playing dirty; to use your weakness—the deep rumble of his voice and the gentle beckoning—to make you weak, malleable. to make you just as desperate for him because he knows all you want to do is to be good for him even when it has you straining, your eyes filling up with tears. he knows it is wrong, but he can’t help it. he wants you this way.

and you want him like this too—his desires sharpening, shaping him to be mean and dangerous. his thickness fills you up, pressing at the roof of your mouth and trapping your tongue underneath the weight of his flesh. your larynx is stretched out, stuffed, but simon is looking at you so adoringly, his own ecstasy so dizzying, so addicting.

you nod, sniffling, finally replying to his question because you want him to feel good. because you want him to lose his restraints when it comes to you.

because you want him to use you until he’s truly relaxed, his body exhausted with something beyond his heartbreak. with something beyond his loss.

simon’s lips wobble like he knows what it is you are thinking of. 

he fucks your throat that way, gentle and sometimes slipping into something so mean it makes you squirm on your knees, the muted throb of your strained legs finally turning into staticky numbness, but you don’t complain, your jaw relaxed as you let simon use you.

he growls out his praises, his words chewed on in his peaking euphoria—nose flaring, cheeks flushed red—or lilting as he teases you—pulling his cock out enough that all that is left is the head, and you whine because you want him in, please simon. wan’ more please—

“gonna cum, sweetheart. gonna cum—fuck!—gonna—”

simon throws his head back, a blinding white filling his eyes and his ears ringing. his body trembles at the intensity of his orgasm, immense pleasure overtaking every synapses in his body until all that he feels is the feverish wrap of your mouth on him.

he flicks his eyes down, panting, and twitches at the sight you make—jaw slack, eyes faraway, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat. 

you look, fuck, you look angelic like this.

simon cups your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your teary eye. you focus back to him slowly, blinking owlishly. 

“shh,” he croons, gentle. “i’ve got you, darlin’. i’ve got you.”

a whine builds from the back of your throat and simon hums, responding to your wordless babble, trying to ease you back down from the fog. he continues to hold you even amidst his oversensitivity, waiting so patiently so he can take care of you now.

yeah, he thinks to himself as he continues to return your unblinking stare. i’m glad to be back home. 

hope this was good :'33 once again pls dont judge me for my blatant self-indulgence hhHHHHH oki oki mwah!!

[jujutsusimp]

Your voice...

🔞 Uraume getting off watching you and Sukuna having sex

I don't know what got into me, I get up with the URGE to write something about Uraume fantasizing about Sukuna's lover (fem!reader) and touching themselves while they are listening/watching them fucking so here we are I guess.

Content: smut 🔞, fem reader, voyeurism, masturbation (tried to keep Uraume gender neutral), rough sex, dirty talk, dub con (sex itself is consensual, but Uraume watches without permission.)

You were screaming so loud today. Uraume should have been used to it by now: Sukuna was always shameless, taking you anywhere anytime whenever he fancied, and he fancied a lot. Usually they would go by their day minding their own business, but lately they have been obsessed by the sound of your moans.

They didn’t know when it started exactly.

When they started paying active attention to the way you were whimpering in pleasure.

When they started to imagine how your face looked when you were fucked so roughly.

When they started to wish they could make you scream in ecstasy while they kiss your whole body.

Uraume leaned against the hallway wall, breathing deeply to calm their nerves. Their body felt so hot, so needy. They knew it was wrong, but was it their fault if once again you were fucking in the middle of the living room? Was it their fault if the squelching sound of your dripping pussy was so freaking loud and they could hear it beneath the noises of your skin slapping lustfully each time Sukuna pounded you?

- Oh fuck Kuna, you are so deep, fuck

You whined more lasciviously than usual, and your following groan of pleasure went straight to their crotch, making it throb as their mouth went dry. They wanted to look so badly. They slowly straighten their back, hesitating for a second before they start walking, passing by the wide-open door as if nothing happened and they were just crossing the corridor. Their eyes trailed discretely on the room, on you, as they walked, their pace tranquil and natural, their turmoil only betrayed by the way their first was clenched.

You didn’t seem to notice them, you were not facing the door and were very obviously focused on Sukuna's dick rearranging your guts, same was true for Sukuna, who was too enthralled by the way his hands were sinking into the flesh of your ass to pay attention to his surroundings. Still, they didn't dare drag more than necessary; this brief glimpse was enough to give them a full picture of the situation, making their heart pound faster.

As Uraume leaned against the wall on the other side of the door frame, they closed their eyes, the scene so vivid in their mind. The way you were trying so hard to not slouch as Sukuna was taking you on all fours directly on the ground, the beautiful curve of your back, the rocking of your heavy breast at each thrust, the way your sweat was sticking your hair on your neck, your lips parting to moan from the relentless pounding...

No amount of meditation could calm them now, their sex was throbbing so much, pulsating in rhythm with the delighted screams they could hear. Their hand trailed on their stomach grazing against their aching arousal through their cloth in order to ease the painful ache between their legs. They barely touched themselves, and yet they were already dripping, not registering any of the dirty banter that was going on until you started stuttering louder.

- I’m.. going to cum, I am going to cum!!!

Your ecstatic voice sent a jolt of pleasure through their body, trying not to moan as they started stroking themselves urgently gripping their robe desperately in their sloppy movement.

- No not yet, hold on a bit more

Sukuna's voice was as teasing and commanding as usual, and they felt grateful for the extra time suddenly desperate to cum in tandem with you. They messily lifted the hem of their robe so they could touch their sex directly with renewed vigor, intoxicated by how your moans were turning into hopless, lustful whines of frustration and bliss.

It was so hot, they couldn’t resist and peaked their head just slightly again through the door frame, getting a new glimpse at your face distorted in pure pleasure at the way you were scratching the floor, your whole body shaking as Sukuna fucked you hard, pulling your hair roughly to keep you steady.

They quickly leaned back on the wall, in fear of being caught, their fingers working desperately on their heat, their head light from how aroused they were.

- There, there, good girl, now you can cum, Sukuna said, his voice dripping with condescension, his own grunt of pleasure mixed with your screams, barely audible from how wild you were panting and moaning.

A whimper escaped Uraume lips as they finally came, ruining their underwear quite spectacularly while putting their free hands over their mouth to stop themselves from being too loud. Their body was so tensed, pressing the back of their head as hard as they could against the wall.

Their legs were shaking from the intensity of their orgasm as they finally let themselves slowly fall against the wall, trying to steady their ragged breath. They never felt so good in their entire life and so shameful at the same time.

- Such a good slut, you did so well for me, Sukuna praised the sounds of wet kisses filling the room, irking Uraume and getting them back on earth. Somehow, the sloppy, hungry sounds of your lips crashing against Sukuna’s with a blissful humming were making them more jealous than the whole debauchery they just witnessed.

Chasing the thought of their head, they hastily clean their hand on their clothes, standing up again while they tidy their robe to look decent, and walking away before they get caught, their heart pounding hard in their chest as your voice still echoed in their mind.

They were in so much trouble.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

// Why do you like Ragatha

(Unleash it. Type out the essay.)

// ... the essay warning tag really is going to apply here ^^

ragatha became my favorite character almost instantly the moment she appeared on screen . like i could remember even around the teaser for the show i was pretty fond of her , though i could chalk that up to me liking Any design that is remotely based off raggedy ann

she perfectly fits that oddly specific character type only I love , which is 'grown woman keeps failing no matter how hard she tries and it's marvelous to witness' , like i'm not sure how to explain it too well - she's not really a girlfail or a girlboss in my eyes ... she just . never wins ! and i love that , please keep fucking losing ragatha the amazing digital circus

to break it down , what's apparent in her approximately less than 7 minutes of screentime is that she's a goofy goober who's essentially the voice of reason . she's not emotional like gangle , unreliable like jax and zooble , or out of her mind like kinger . she was essentially the only one who tried to ease pomni into the circus instead of hard-hitting her with the reality as if that won't make her abstract on the spot . it's clear through her interactions with the other characters and how she talks to pomni that she acts like the Pillar of the group , with how compliant she is with caine's adventures and has a comforting presence .

the problem is ... that all of those 'positive' traits are ... Detrimental to her own wellbeing . like i'm sure a part of her positivity is genuine , but her optimism clearly hinges into toxic positivity and her selflessness is taken to the point of people-pleasing and neglecting her own needs . it's clear that she sees her own emotions as a burden that she doesn't want to put on other people .

and . she's dishonest . my girl is dishonest . she often brushes off things as not being as bad as they actually are , she picks her words to cause less conflict as possible , and it doesn't seem like anyone else is aware of her internal turmoil ... even when she's in Literal Pain she still brushes it off as being okay - and she stayed quiet instead of telling pomni that she's upset .

which is ... hilarious . there's just something about nice characters that tell the most lies to me . bonus points if it seems like they're the one who tells the most truths out of the entire group . everything about ragatha is Dishonest .

and it's funny yet again that these Really don't help her at all ! i think it's clear just from promotional material to the pilot that ragatha is meant to be a punching bag . her teaser shows a cleaver Being Thrown At Her , was tripped by jax and Literally Most Of Her Screentime In the Pilot Is Being In Pain , and that's not counting gooseworx's doodles . my girl's fucking Losing .

and it fits her avatar well since she's a Rag Doll ... she's basically never meant to win from the start . she was never the main character .

it interests me so much on how all of these will be taken in the full series since they're all very interesting setups , especially for the setting that the story is set in . i just need to see more of my girl and i wish that a lot of her content isn't limited to ship art . you guys do not understand how desperate i am to see content of ragatha interacting with either caine or zooble . i am Not normal about them .

also i want to kiss her on the mouth //

[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: "Hey... how y'all doinnnnn?"

I am so sorry for my radio silence! Life just got so busy that I unfortunately lost motivation to write. I swear to you all I looked at Chapter 8 so many times, but had no inspo and got writer's block. However, I woke up on the right side of the bed today and the cauldron said to me, "get that shit done girl!" And I did! I DID THAT THANG! Wrote my first real smut ever! Please go easy on me, writing has been difficult, but I see all of your overwhelmingly positive comments and it just fills my heart❤️ I will try my best to keep updating this story, not to the extent I was when I first started, but I promise to try to get more out. Y'all finally get to see the autumn court rumor in motion, eheheh🔥

Summary: After an eventful day of emotional turmoil, you find Lucien waiting for you in your bedroom to talk things through, bestie to bestie. However, one thing leads to another and you are stuck in the bathroom with the autumn court male as he questions you about the all known rumor...

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and last but not least SMUT, 18+ for this chapter, I warned you👀

Word Count: ≈ 4,809

Chapter 8:  Just Like the Old Days

Chapter 8: 

“So, who is buying us drinks?” Lucien asked. 

“Out of all the things to say to me right now, you chose that?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“We can't have him getting the wrong orders,” he smirked as he walked over to you by the door. You rolled your eyes at his response. 

“Only you could say something like that in this moment,” you paused waiting for a response from him. You hear him let out a strained breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

“Yes, no thanks to you,” you swat his bicep, but he grabs your hand before you manage to hit him. He looks at you inquisitively. You shouldn't have said that last part. It really was not his fault, but gods did it still pain you to see him and Elain. 

“Y/n look,” he looks at where your hands met, “Every bone in my body wanted me to run after you-” 

“Then why didn't you?!” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you aren’t going to let them.  

“Because of our mate's y/n! Elain needed me for the first time in her life, and when you ran Azriel was quick to follow you... I saw two different pairs of mates needing the other! I thought it’d be best... I am sorry if I was wrong,” he said as he started to trace circles along the back of your hand. 

“Lucien you are the only being I'm so close with, I needed you!” you glanced at your hands and could feel his warmth seeping through your skin. 

“Well, I am here now.” He looked up into your eyes. They were full of promise and sincerity. This right here is why this male deserved the world. He has so much love for those that are important to him. Even through everything that has happened recently, he has found a way to help both you and Elain. 

You hum, “I can see that now.”  

“So, can I ask why you run?” He asked. You could feel yourself faltering... You could not tell him the real reason. You just wanted to back away into a corner instead of having this conversation.  

“I had to get away from Elain-” you half told the truth. He does not need to know that your mind and body craves his touch when he just got Elain into his life. He also does not need to know you and Azriel were cuddled up on the floor together.

Lucien sensed your hesitancy in not really wanting to talk about it yet, so he didn't push the matter any further.  

“How was Elain?” You figured you should at least ask him. 

“We had a suitable time, I think? You know, I really do not know! That woman is harder to talk to than Nesta! Her vocabulary is, “please, thank you, and if you wish,” THAT IS IT! Shes so damn polite it is almost nauseating.” He said as you giggled when he tried to mimic Elain’s voice. 

“Oh, you poor thing, having to act all gentlemanly. What did you two even do?” you smirked at him. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face! We did nothing, I was so scared my breathing would run her off. All we did was sit on the couch as I read her poems.” He explained. 

“Sounds riveting,” rolling your eyes playfully.

“I am unsure how I feel about it. She is so distant and proper with me, cozy and social with Azriel, and with you she is- what's the word I'm looking for?” He rubbed his temples.  

“I think the term you're looking for is heinous bitch?” you glanced up at him. 

“That works I guess,” he shrugged. “I really do not know what she was so upset about when she was kissing Azriel not too long ago. A little hypocritical, if you ask me.” 

“Does she know you know they kissed?” you asked.  

“I do not think so, it is for the best I keep to myself for now. I cannot go yelling at her for kissing him when you and I were up against the wall earlier.” He shrugged as you completely forgot you and him were one wrong decision away from fucking each other ruthlessly.  

You grew nervous. Azriel and Elain have been together longer than your current reunion with your friend. It is possible they could have a more serious relationship than just that kiss you two saw.  

“Do you think they have had sex?” you asked nervously. 

“You think they have?” Lucien’s eyes were darkening. Probably from jealousy but fuck- is that attractive. 

“I really cannot tell... It is always the quiet and innocent ones that are always doing things beyond belief,” you sighed. Could they really be having sex with each other? 

“We should spy on them and find out.”  

“You want to spy on them having sex? Y/n if you are a voyeur just say so,” he looked you over, “I always knew you had a hidden kinky side.” 

“Lucien, would you sit down! That is not what I meant! I meant we should get to know about their relationship more, figure out what we are both up against. Knowing how close they have gotten can be a gauge on how much hope is left for us.” you said. You figured if Azriel’s shadows had an attachment to you there was still a glimmer of hope! Besides, Lucien and Elain obviously have a small connection from what you saw in the library.  

“Ohhhh, now that makes a lot more sense,” he teased. “You do realize Elain and Azriel are also up against our strong relationship too?” 

“Yeah, but they are not in love with us. So, it is not as much of an issue for them as it is for us... Also, you forget Azriel does not even know about our bond yet.” 

“I really don’t understand that male at all,” Lucien grunted frustrated at him for not being smart enough to sense the bond between you two. He was the spymaster for gods sake! 

“Neither do I after tonight...” you said as you walked to your dresser to pull out a nightgown. You turned around and looked at Lucien who stared back at you, clearly not getting the message you wanted to change as he clicked his tongue. Your eyes following the movement.

“You never answered my question earlier...” he mused. 

“And what question was that?” you asked, confused as to what he was talking about. You walked to the bathroom attached to your room. You left the door slightly cracked so you could continue your conversation as you changed. 

“About needing a certain reminder?” He sat on your bed with his elbows resting on his knees.

“You are still on about that?” Fuck, this male is really testing your rationality. Why does he have to be so alluring? You slipped off your shirt and grabbed the hem of your pants as he responded. 

“Yes, I am. Sweet little Elain was curious about my ability to light the fireplace tonight.” You could hear him shuffling around slightly. You slipped out of your pants and popped your head out of the crack in the door. 

“First of all, I did not plant that rumor in her head! She simply overheard it,” you said matter of factly. As you looked Lucien up and down. He was now fully sprawled out on your bed, his hair tied up in a messy bun, with his arms arrogantly folded behind his head. Shit, can this male get any more attractive?  

“Uh huh, but that still does not answer the question y/n,” he quirks his head at your floating one in the doorway.  

You were standing there frozen in your underwear as you tried to come up with any kind of responsible thing to say. Something to end this conversation where it is before it gets too messy. However, the sight before you of Lucien in your bed has caused you to short circuit. Memories of you, in this very bathroom, fanaticizing about the male before you as you pleasured yourself came flooding back. The images of his hands all over you as he buried himself in you, and you and him in a heated kiss against the wall earlier, shitttttt. Your face instantly heated, Lucien looks at you concerned. 

“Are you okay?” He started to get up to come check on you.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You watch him draw closer to you in concern, but the closer he gets the more the scent of the air starts to change. He paused and you watched him take a sharp inhale from shock. You can’t be that turned on right now, right? 

His eyes darkened from it as he smirked at you, “So y/n, what do you say?” 

Like you said earlier in Lucien’s apartment, fuck it. You both needed this. You both deserved to be selfish for once. You decided to slowly open the door, as the smell of you grew stronger.  

“I don’t know Lu; do you think I need a reminder?” You propped yourself along the doorframe as you looked straight into his eyes as you said, “Or is it you who needs one because you forgot how to weild that power?” You tilted your head to the side as his mouth laid there agape seeing you in nothing but your skimpy choice of attire. 

“Fuckkkk-” he licked his lips as he stalked towards you.  

“Which one is it, Lu?” He stood right in before you and looked down upon your figure.  

“If you think that I forgot how to fuck you properly you must be insane.” 

 Gods you forgot how tall this male was. Respectfully, you wanted to climb this man like a damn tree, and you just might. 

“Then show me already,” you said. 

“Always so eager,” he said as he crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss. His hands grab your arms and threw them over his shoulders as he picks you up effortlessly, never breaking the kiss.

You met his kiss with just as much intensity as you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands burying themselves at the bottom of soft silky hair that fell out his bun as Lucien sat you on the bathroom counter. He broke the kiss; you immediately missed contact. He only smirks at you. 

“Well, well, well... what do we have here?” he took another inhale, your scent was driving him crazy. This entire bathroom was covered in it. “Your arousal is everywhere in this bathroom, almost as if it is lingering from earlier?” He looked at you questioningly. Your face heated. Is he smelling you from your time in the bath? There is no way! The smell should’ve vanished by now, right? 

“What too embarrassed to confess love?” His hand cupped your face forcing you to look at him. “You touched yourself earlier, didn’t you?”

You nodded your head; Lucien placed his hands on the counter blocking you in. His knuckles were white as he tried to keep his composure.  

“You will answer when I ask you a question y/n, did you fuck yourself?” His voice was soft but authoritative. 

“Yes,” you squeaked, and he hummed. The sound vibrating through your body. 

“Was it in here?” He quipped. 

“Yes,” you admitted, unable to do anything. Your mind was hazy from being pinned in by him. He sucked in a breath. 

“And what did you think about?” His hands started tracing the curves of your hips as he glanced at your kissable lips. 

“Lucien!” you whisper yelled. This made your heart flutter, having to admit something so vulnerable out loud to him.  

“That’s my name doll,” as he looked at you, “Now what did you think about?” His hands started growing hot on your hips from anticipation. You sighed at the feeling. 

“I-, I thought about you-” you quickly admitted. Lucien’s hands tightened on your hips as they soon became scolding hot, but you didn’t care. 

“Fuck me-” he rested his forehead against yours, “What exactly did you think about?” as his right hand moved to put pressure against your clothed center. You moaned at the slight touch. 

“I-,” you took a shaky breath, “I thought about what it would be like to have you touch me,” you bit your lip as you placed your hands on top his shoulders. 

“Like this?” He started circling his fingers against your clothed clit, head still rested against yours watching your reaction.  

“Mhmn,” was all you could muster. Fuck he wasn’t even really touching you yet and you were already about to give yourself into a release.  

“Or was it like this?” He asked as his left hand left your hip to pull your underwear to the side as his other slid up and down your center. 

“Gods,” you head fell back from the feeling until he ripped his hand away, you glared at him. “What the hell?!” 

“You are going to answer my questions,” He glared at you as if he was just as upset to not be touching you.  

You sighed, “Yes, it was just like that.” 

“Good girl,” he mused as he kissed you softly, “And what else did I do to you?” His left hand cupping your cheek as his right hand teasingly slid up your folds. You hissed. 

“You-” the feeling of his fingers against you was utter bliss, “fuck- I imagined your fingers inside me,” you mouth falling agape at Lucien’s teasing fingers waiting for a command on what to do. 

“How many? One?” He slid his index finger inside you, you gasped as you gripped his shoulders from the pleasure. Your nails slightly digging into him. 

“Two?” He added his middle finger next as a breathy moan escaped your lips. The sound going straight to his cock.  

“Fuck-” you threw your head back, “s’good!” Lucien hummed in satisfaction. 

“Was it three?” He added his ring finger stretching you out. His fingers are much larger than your own, making this feeling more pleasing.

“I- I don’t know how many, I just wanted them.” You said breathlessly. 

“Well, you have them,” he mused back as you glanced at his lips as his words left his mouth. Your hands grabbing a fistful of his shirt to bring him into a kiss. Catching him by surprise from your neediness to have his mouth back on yours, he let out a low grown. You smirked into the kiss hearing his response to you. Your desire growing more impatient. 

“Lucien, please-” you broke the kiss in need for stimulation. His hot fingers inside you made you impatient as you tried to move yourself against him. 

“Please what? Use your words doll,” he said teasingly. 

“Stop with the teasing and just fuck me already!” You huffed a hair that had fallen onto your face. 

“Such a desperate little thing,” he said, and he fully removed his fingers before pumping them back inside you. 

“Yes!” you cried out from finally getting the stimulation you wanted. No, NEEDED.

“S’good for me, fuck you feel so good baby,” Lucien mused as his fingers kept working in and out of you. His cock was begging him to be where his fingers were.  

“More,” you begged. 

“More what doll?” as you scratched along his back trying to get a grip of reality.  

“Need you so bad,” you cried out as he kept at his pace. 

“Not until you are coming undone on my fingers.” 

His left hand found your bra clip and unhooked it. His fingers light as a feather but as hot as hellfire itself as he slowly slid it off your shoulders. The cold breeze instantly hardened your nipples as he tossed your bra to the floor. 

“You are ethereal,” he kissed your neck as his left hand found home on one of your breasts, pinching your nipple slightly. 

You traced your hands down, down, down his back. You can feel Lucien’s muscles tense at every touch. You reached the hem of his pants and slipped a pinky finger inside the elastic of his underwear and slowly traced it around to his lower abdomen. The slight tease of your finger had his eagerly hitting your soft spot effortlessly. You were writhing beneath him.

“Shit- right there Lu!” you breathed as your hands took hold of his hips bound to leave bruises. 

“Fuck you are so gorgeous,” as he took your other nipple into his mouth and moaned. Your head hit the wall behind you as you were starting to reach your climax. 

“Lucien,” you said breathlessly. 

“I know baby, I know. Doing s’good for me,” as he nipped at your ear. 

“I’m gonna-” you tried to tell him you were about to finish but your sentence fell short as you felt your release seconds away from washing over you. Lucien’s left hand found your chin and forced it down to his gaze. 

 “I want to watch that pretty face of yours as you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he gave you a chaste kiss. You somehow managed to nod your head despite how good Lucien was fingering you, and you locked eyes. His pupils were full blown, the beautiful russet-colored eyes you loved was gone. He looked utterly primal, and it turned you on even more than you already were. His hand hot inside your core, only adding more pleasure before you were gripping the base of his hair and clenching around him. 

“That’s it, cum for me y/n,” his eyes never left yours as you came undone on his fingers. “Gods you are so fucking beautiful.”

Moans were slipping and falling from your mouth as he worked you through your high. You swore you saw stars from how hard you came around him. 

As you regained your stability, you looked down to see Lucien’s hand glistening in the light peeking into the room. You smiled at him through your lashes as you pulled him back down into a kiss, but Lucien broke away. 

“You have made such a mess,” he teased. 

And sure enough, you looked back down to see that his pants were covered in you. Only proof of how good he finger fucked you. Your fantasy had just come to life before you. All you could do was smirk at him as you gently grabbed his wrist and sucked his fingers clean. You hummed at the taste of yourself on his fingers and Lucien watched every move you made.  

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him once more, letting him get a taste for himself. His tongue gliding along your bottom lip before he took it into his mouth and released it with a pop. 

“Better?” You asked and he hummed. 

“So sweet,” he said as he licked his lips as you unbuttoned his pants. 

“Now what can we do about these?” You asked as your hands slid into the hem of his underwear and slightly tugged down. Lucien looked at you playfully as he took a step back and threw his hands up in an “I don't know” kind of way. You giggled as you slipped off the counter to help him out his pants. Your hands slowly pull them down his waist before you kneeled to pull them the rest of the way. All you can see is his pants and underwear at his ankles, you tap his ankle as a way of telling him to lift it and he does. You do the same to the other and toss them across the floor. 

You slowly trail your gaze up his muscular legs to his hard cock standing proud against his lower stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of his needy swollen cock dripping with precum. Fuck, you had forgotten how big he was. If Lucien had wings, he sure as hell would have a large wingspan. 

You slowly looked up at him, batting your lashes, as you grazed your fingers up, up, up his legs as you started to stand. Your hands took a slight detour to slightly touch his aching member and Lucien let out a hiss as his head fell back. 

“Fucking tease,” he groaned as your fingers collected some of his pre cum and licked it off, standing back up.  

“Do you want to know what else I thought about?” You said as your hands played with the bottom of his shirt. 

“What else did you think about?” He cocked his head to the side completely captivated by you. 

“I thought about what it would be like to have your dick inside me again,” you bit your lip seductively from the thought of it. 

“Yeah?”  

“Yeah,” you said as he let you pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roaming his gods sculptured body. You had forgotten how built he was, lean muscle everywhere from all his training with swords.  

“How did I fuck you y/n?” He placed his hands on your hips guiding you back to the counter and you smirked. 

“Ruthlessly,” you said breathlessly, and Lucien only smirked. 

“Then turn the fuck around,” he snapped as his hands spun you to face the counter. You were now staring at your reflections through the mirror above the countertop as Lucien’s hands slid your soaked underwear off you. 

“Bend over,” he commanded as he popped a soft slap on your ass. You yelped in surprise as you bent over the counter.  

“Always such a good girl for me,” as he softly rubbed the now pink handprint on your ass. He bent his body over yours, as he kissed your cheek. You could feel his cock pressed up against you as you slowly started to grind onto him. He pushed harder against you in response. 

Lucien grabbed your chin as he said, “You remember our safe word, correct?” Placing soft kisses all over your neck. 

“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “Do you?”  

“Yes, I do.” He smiled at you, as he grabbed his cock and drug his tip through your core. Fuck it felt like you were on fire. 

“Lu please, I need you so bad.”  

“Alright baby, you asked for it,” he smirked at you as he gave you no time before he rammed his dick straight into you. You screamed his name as both pain and pleasure ran through you from how deep he was. 

“Oh my gods, you're so deep,” you moaned as he slid himself all the way out and right back in.  

“You are so tight,” as his hands gripped your waist. All you could do was watch him through the mirror as he fucked you. His brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth slightly hanging open.  

“Lucien faster,” you begged. 

“You are going to take what I give you! Now, put your hands together on the countertop.” His dominance over you had your core clenching against him as you did as you were told. 

“Fuck, you like that don't you?” Another soft smack landed on your ass, causing you to bite your lip to stop from moaning. “You like being told what to do?” you nodded. 

“What did I say about using your words y/n?” he growled.  

“Yes, I like it when you tell me what to do. Now please fuck me already?!” You were starting to grow impatient and were about to start rocking back onto his cock. 

“Little girls who play with fire are bound to get their fingers burned,” he said as you felt a tingling sensation around your wrists. You looked down to see swirling bands of fire holding them together. Your eyes lit up in response. Lucien watched as you looked at him in utter awe. 

“You can do that?” 

“I can do anything you want doll, now, grab ahold of the counter.” 

The fire bands were still binding your wrists together, sending warm sensations throughout your arms as you managed your best grip onto the countertop.  

“Do not let go, you hear me?”  

“Yes sir,” you smirked at him.  

At that phrase, all restraint he had dissipated. He began thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your walls clenching around him from the sensation of having both fire restraints and his burning cock inside you. 

“You are scorching,” you moaned out in pleasure. 

“Such a slut for my heat, aren’t you baby?” he grunted out as he pounded into you from behind.  

“Fuck- yes,” your knuckles grew white from gripping the counter so hard to even out Lucien’s thrusts as you looked back at him. You could see his cock going in and out of you. The sight of it had your walls fluttering around him.  

Lucien moaned feeling you flutter around him, “This cunt is mine.” One of his hands left your hip as he played with your clit. 

“It has always been yours. Since the day I first met you, it has been yours,” you moaned head slumping to your shoulder. 

“Fuck- Y/n, I-” his finger circling your clit moved faster as his thrusts grew harder at each stroke. 

“You feel s’good Lu,” you looked back into the mirror. His hair fell out of his bun and is now clinging to the sweat on his forehead. He has never looked more handsome than right now. His hair framing his face and his eyes burned into yours. You felt your core tightening around him.  

“So do you sweetheart,” he moaned as his feet spread yours apart, his thrusts now hitting deeper than before. 

“Oh mother, right there Lucien!” You screamed as Lucien removed his hand from your clit and grabbed a fistful of your hair craning your neck. 

“You look so perfect right now,” his cock jetting ruthlessly into you. 

“I’m close-” you breathed. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock just like you did my fingers?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna- OH FUCK!” Your release had come burning through you, the bonds on your wrists tightening and growing hotter, as you looked at you and Lucien’s bodies meeting through the mirror.

“Shit- y/n you feel so fucking good,” he growled as he kept fucking you through your high. All you could do was watch Lucien with a handful of your hair coaxing you through it. Your entire body felt like it was on fire as Lucien’s thrusts grew sloppy, a sign he was close. 

“I’m almost there y/n. You’re taking me so well,” all you could do was moan in response as Lucien filled your walls with his cum. Your core burning from it in a comforting way as he collapsed onto you. Both of you are out of breath and drenched in sweat. You felt the restraints on your wrists vanish as Lucien kissed you on the lips.  

“Gods I’ve missed you,” he mused. 

You kissed him back, “I missed you too.” 

You two just sat there smiling at each other like utter idiots, enjoying this nice moment before reality sets back in. You turned around and hugged Lucien. 

“How about you we clean up?” you asked as you peered up at him. 

“Yes, I will run us a bath,” he smiled at you as he kissed the top of your head, “but first we need to do something about your legs.” He bellowed. You looked down to see both yours and his cum dripping down your legs. Your face grew hot from embarrassment.  

As if he could read your mind he said, “Don't be embarrassed, it is rather sexy!” as he smirked at you in an all too knowing way. 

“I'll go clean myself up while you run the bath,” you said. 

“Alright, I will see you in a bit,” as he turned to run you both a cold bubble bath.  

You left and cleaned yourself up in your room before walking back to your bathroom to find Lucien sitting on the side of the tub waiting for you. 

As you walked in your nose scrunched up, “This bathroom reeks of sex now,” you laughed, and Lucien joined in at the sight of your face. 

“Just like old times, huh?” he laughed. 

You smiled, “Yes, just like that.” You truly did miss him all these years.

“Now how about a nice cold tubby to clean up?” he outstretched his hand to you to help you into the bath. 

“Did you just say tubby?” you asked as you took his hand and let him help you in. 

“Yes, do you have any issues with it,” he glared playfully. 

“Nope,” you said popping the p as he climbed in after you. 

“Good, now get over here and let me take care of you,” he smiled. 

“m’kay,” you said as you made your way over and laid against him as he washed your hair. Both of you savoring this moment while you could.

Since it has been a long time sine the last post, please let me know on this chapter if you’re interested in being on my taglist!

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[bravetimetravellingaussie]

And it feels like home

Chapter 2

Summary: Peter Parker makes a friend

Warnings: foul language, mention of injury? Not graphic or anything though

Again, possible spoilers for Spider-man: No Way Home

Days blur together when each day is the same, when there is no one you can share those days with, but unlike his coworker, who'd been stuck in a loop of shock, Peter's brain was finally knocked out of the loop.

For the past couple of months all that had really brought Peter joy was getting into bed and enjoying his few hours of peace, any inner turmoil didn't have a chance to keep him up at night when he was a second away from nodding off at all time. He'd been walking around a zombie for a while now, avoiding everything by filling his time and pushing himself to the limit and beyond, but now he felt something different, something good, even if it was just the itch of curiosity in the back of his head.

It was something.

This strange man with the weird costume and the many, many wounds, which he seemed completely unperturbed by, was a walking question mark, a puzzle to solve. Peter had forgotten how much he loved a good puzzle, how good it felt to scratch that itch of curiosity by getting answers.

When Peter put on his suit that night, he didn't even think about the possibility of throwing some punches, all he could think about was how he was going to find the man in red.

The temporary lack of bone deep emotional anguish and the replacement of exhaustion with excitement should have been enough warning for Peter that something was going to go wrong.

Peter had barely just swung out of his apartment when he ran out of web. A street light broke his fall. It also broke one of his ribs.

All of a sudden he was lying on his back staring at a starless sky and wishing he could stay like that forever. He couldn't hold his breathe forever though, and even though he tried to move as slowly as possible he felt a stab of pain in his chest.

Shit.

Peter gritted his teeth and felt his eyes welling with tears. Pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic. Every part of him was tense with burning hot rage. I am motherfucking spider-man, I have a job to do and-

The anger faded and all that was left was pain and tears. I am Peter Parker and I want answers. Peter sobbed quietly as he felt the pain, the pain he'd been feeling a long time now. There are so many answers I will never get but goddammit I am going to get this answer if it fucking kills me.

Peter took a deep breath, a mistake really. He waited a minute for the pain to die down before slowly getting up on his feet. He leaned against the lamppost and held out an arm to hail a taxi.

Once inside Peter slumped in his seat.

"Where to-" The driver glanced back at his new passenger.

"Take me to [insert street name here] or I'll-"

"No need for that! I'm a big fan of your work, spider-man," the taxi driver said with a smile, offering Peter a handshake, an offer Peter accepted. "My name is Dopinder."

"Nice to meet you, Dopinder." Peter felt a surge of something other than pain in his chest. It felt good.

"I'm happy to offer my services as an amateur mercenary to you any time, Mr spider-man, but I have to ask, why are we going to a high school?" Dopinder asked as he drove away from the curb.

"I uh," Peter hesitated for a second before giving up with the scepticism, he was too tired and lonely to refuse a chance to talk to someone. God knows it had been too long since the last time he'd had an honest conversation with someone. "I borrow their lab supplies sometimes. To make my web fluid."

"Ohh, so you don't make it naturally?"

"I mean I don't, I used to know a guy who did though."

"Right."

Dopinder tapped the steering wheel in time with the music playing on the radio.

"So what inspired the spider theme?"

"I got bit by a spider?"

"Oh." Dopinder was quiet for a bit, as if in thought. "My cousin got bitten by a spider once. It was one of the happiest days of my life."

"O-oh, okay."

The rest of the drive was quiet and Peter felt only mildly awkward.

"We are here, that'll be-"

"Yeah, I have no money."

Dopinder nodded.

"Somebody needs to start giving superheroes decent pockets in their super suits," he said with the tired tone of someone who encountered this problem frequently.

"No, I just- I wish I could pay you but I literally don't have any money." A little sheepishly, Peter added, "I was going to threaten you to take me here, and then run off."

Dopinder shifted in his seat to look at Peter. "I've always wanted to know what it feels like to fly."

"I'm a bit injured right now, but next time I see you I'll give you a ride spider-man style, does that sound good?"

"Yes."

"Well then, it was nice meeting you, Dopinder." Peter carefully got out of the car, wincing slightly at the movement.

"Anything else I can help you with? I've always wanted to break into a building under the cover of darkness."

"I'll be alright, thanks." Peter chuckled slightly. "Unless of course you know a guy who wears red leather and seems to be immune to pain."

"Oh. You mean Mr Pool?"

[commanderchr1st]

Why I left tumblr suddenly in 2017 at the apex of my blog commanderchrist.

I'm sorry to "break character," but I gotta say some shit as Joe that's been bothering me for years. It is corny, it is personal, it is emotional, but I've recently been facing a lot of personal turmoil, and I gotta say some shit.

I'm not calling anyone out, not trying to start drama, but for quite some time I've had some baggage that has caused me a great deal of mental damage, tbh. More below.

Hey all, 7-8 year old drama here. I've told my friends this story, and I've also kind of hinted at it, but I've never really gave an official response why I left tumblr in April of 2017. It's a really long story, and it's been connecting to a process of grieving multiple friendships, two relationships. I've never really wanted to talk about it too terribly much on an account that is so closely associated with what happened, I mainly spent time venting on private tumblrs, going to see doctors, therapists, psychiatrists, etc. For a half of a decade, I was extremely upset, and honestly, it kinda came back in 2022.

First off, fartdick-supreme was a blog I made a few days after I left commanderchrist. I was obsessed to see a particular user disparage me, make false claims, and I was very, very angry on that blog. So, if you do snoop a little, just know that's a hella mentally ill college kid writhing in pain, not a coherent blog at all tbh.

The above picture was sent to me on discord in November of 2016 before they started telling one of my friends I called them fat (and they knew that person had self image issues and most importantly I didn't), racist, treating Tumblr like a meat shop, telling somebody I had a crush on that I was exploiting them because of their pill addiction (just an insane thing to say tbh), conspiring with an ex that cheated on me to write a callout post about all of this and more lol. I deleted in 2017 because I was unmedicated, going through a pretty severe breakup, was taking more than a full-time load at school, and this former friend was doing shit like this almost every day of the week. I refused to talk about this until I've had a LOT of time to heal because tbh somebody who I considered a close friend doing this kinda shook my mental health. I deleted, but I never left. I really don't want to leave their URL or talk specifically about anyone who was impacted on tumblr, but this has also affected a lot of individuals I used to be friends with. And for a lot of that, I was the scapegoat. I accepted this blame. Even though I didn't do like...any of it. At the most, I was a mentally ill alcoholic who had a really hard time navigating friendships. A good deal of friends also had their own individual hardships, especially this individual who had spread these accusations to myself and my friends.

I think it's important to say that all of this started because I was talking shit behind the friends back. I said they were a sore loser, I said they were impossible to talk to, I said they were bossy when it came to playing games, I said they needed to work on their anger issues. And I denied it to them, which I should not have. I should have told my friend all the problems that I was having with them. I failed to do that, because they were a very defensive person. My friends tried too, but they did not have any luck. So, it manifested as anger, and I did talk shit about them to those friends. Word got back to them, and this is how it all started. I'm not going to point any fingers because MOST of those friends, I am still on good terms with, but there were definitely a few that also seemed to share similar frustrations in a public setting.

Maybe it's because I'm mentally ill, but I refused to confront this. I deleted. I left. I went on medication, I finished my degree. But I did not ever once publicly defend myself.

Fast forward to now, and in 2022 I was faced with a very similar situation. I had broken up with my partner of four years. I REALLY don't want to get into the details of that relationship because it was incredibly toxic. I did a couple things I was not proud of as a response, especially when it came to involving my family in our relationship. Both my ex and my mother tried to drive a wedge between me and the other person, and it was maddening. It was a horrible way to live. Especially since every interaction I had with my mother was her trying to pry me from that relationship. At the time, I thought she was being manipulative and shitty, but everything changed in December of 2021 when my ex went to go visit family and I was left alone after moving several times, being evicted twice during covid, making some dumb mistakes financially, and it all dawned on me.

I was being abused. My ex from 2017 had BPD, which is fine, but my ex from 2022 also had this condition. And I was able to see a parallel: I REALLY don't want to go in detail about my relationships tbh and was one of the reasons I didn't want to bring it up, but in both relationships I was put into some fucked situations. In both, any time I had issues with something it was like pulling teeth... 0-10 on the intensity meter. I would bring things up and immediately be disparaged, yelled at, etc. In one of those relationships, they were drunk daily and would call me up and yell at me. They were also sleeping in the same bed as their ex boyfriend for months and not telling me (it was long distance). They also had some sexual exchanges with a pretty well-known tumblr user. The other, long story short, sexually abused me a lot. Put me in a situation of fatherhood when I explicitly mentioned I did not want to be a part of it. They said it was okay. And it was all okay, until all the sudden our bank account was shared and I had moved to a different state. They trapped me financially, and cornered me into fatherhood. The rest of the abuse got a bit more intense when I was left isolated without family in the state I was living in. This shit is hella hard to talk about, but those two are linked. In December of 2021, I realized everything. I was terrified, depressed, isolated, and ruminating. I broke up with my most recent ex in 2022 because...well its complicated but I misinterpreted this grief as me being gay. I thought I was purely attracted to men, and vagina repulsed. It took me longer than this to realize no, I was repulsed by my ex because of sexual abuse. Anyways, when I broke up with them, they threw shit all over the place, some at me. They screamed at me and told me that I was a waste of four years. And they immediately told me I could not be a father anymore and could not see the child. When just month prior I was given a deadline on providing a child for them.

What did this all have to do with 2017?

I've lived long enough to see me make some pretty big mistakes twice in a row. It's not the relationships I regret, despite the abuse. It's the lesson that I failed to learn myself. I need to stand up for myself more, and not accept blame when I did not do anything. I've been diagnosed with (at the very least) minor Obsessive Compulsive Disorder recently, I've had some mental issues in the past. But we are exploring that this may have been derived from PTSD. I think these two scenarios have been a part of it. I've let this get under my skin. In 2022, I lost a couple friendships because I did not explain ANYTHING to them, and my ex spoke to them a day or two after our breakup when I was still grieving, processing, trying to figure all this shit out. I'm ready now. I am a mentally ill person who suffered abuse from other mentally ill people. I have made the mistake of allowing THREE people who have mistreated me and left me with lasting trauma rule my life. They made me run, I've allowed myself to become all the things these abusive people have wanted me to be because I did not stand up for myself, I did not deny anything.... I ran like a coward. I'm sorry for doing that.

To the select people who have heard these rumors from these people in my life, I don't blame you for believing them. As a matter in fact, I'm sorry that I did not explain everything to you.

It will not happen again. And if we have had conversations in the past, or you have considered me a friend. A friend. Not a funnyman, not a "derailer," not anything on this site. If you have talked to me, if you know me as Joe, not Jog. Feel free to DM me.

I've stopped with the anon messages, because tbh I don't want to deal with them. I've had this individual and a couple other send me them throughout the years. If they have anything to say, I'd appreciate them striking a conversation with me via here, discord, whatever. And the same with you if you're curious. Just come to me, ask. I won't yell at you. I won't say anything I won't want to say, either, so if you ask and we were never close or didn't have a friendship in the past, I may not be inclined to share more receipts that I have from this time frame. But I'm an open book.

If you've read this far and you've thought some of my posts are funny, videos, whatever. I just wanna say thank you for sticking with me and appreciating it. And thank you for hearing something out that you may have not had a general interest in. Again, this is not a callout post or anything like that. This was years ago, I'm ready to move past this. I need to heal, and if you were a part of this... even if you were shitty to me, I want you to heal and get help, too.

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part VI

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~4800 Warnings: slightly suggestive, swearing, blood, non-con touching (Cazador touching reader), some borrowed in game dialogue, canonical warnings apply!

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here part V: here

Summary: Set in Act III, after you arrive in Baldur's Gate and have met some of Astarion's siblings but not yet confronted Cazador. Astarion struggles with inner turmoil as he is suddenly thrusted back into the clutches of his old master's influence.

Notes: Long time no update! Long story short December was the month where everything was bad and everything hurt - ER hospital visits and many, many days laying in bed and on the couch very unmotivated and just wanting to feel better! I am very grateful to be feeling better and up to writing as my fics is one of my favorite creative outlets! So thank you for being patient between updates! I really appreciate it and any kind of interaction like a reblog, like or comment truly makes my friggin' day!

So this update and the next chapter will be focused on confronting Cazador! I have had these thoughts and ideas to add more to the in-game scenes since the very first time I played it! I was doing a multiplayer save with my fiancé and the second we finished Astarion's quest (I sobbed the entire time btw) I stayed up all night writing all my thoughts onto my notes app. I didn't even intend to write into a fic back then, I just wanted the outlet of writing it all down to help with how emotional I was feeling about it all! And now a few months later, I have a fic with over 30k words. Aha... whoops!

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this update and the slight changes and add-ons I've added to this final part of Astarion's quest. I honestly teared up writing parts of it, because Astarion and his and my Tav's story means so much to me, I couldn't help it. ALSO, I don't plan on these being the last updates since it is the "end" of Astarion's quests. I still have plans for this Tav/Reader and Astarion yet. Not enough kissing and happiness had happened yet!! Just some angst and pain has to happen first.

As always, reblogs and comments are very very appreciated ♡♡♡

·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You had wandered the streets of Baldur’s Gate before. Long before the nautiloid, in your time living in the city you had explored as much of the exciting city as you could. But never like this.

Your party had taken every cobblestone street, every back alley and shortcut. Astarion lead the way for most of them, pointing things out and sharing antidotes with you.

But you noticed how his smile strained at times, that he was wearing down the stitches on his leather pants from his fingers picking them nervously. At night when you slept side by side you’d wake to him trembling and muttering through a nightmare, which had become more frequent since you stepped into the city boundaries.

The vampire has been so sure of the next step in the Shadowlands and Wyrm’s Crossing. But now anytime you neared the streets leading to Cazador’s castle, he was turning on his heel and looking at one of your companions to ask what they needed to do instead.

Meeting his siblings days ago had been eye-opening. You thought you understood what he had gone through, that the memories he had described to you, and even shown you through the tadpoles, was enough. But after seeing how controlled and manipulated Petras and Dalyria had been… What they were being forced to do…You couldn’t bring yourself to picture Astarion like that.

You couldn’t imagine the turmoil and anguish going through your lover — seeing his siblings, being in the city again in a way he never thought he would, being so close to seizing power that could change his fate forever. You hadn’t voiced that every time he mentioned taking the ritual for himself fear stabbed in your belly. You knew what was motivating him to even consider the choice — outright fear and the call of power that was easily addicting. But too many things in his life has been decided for him… so you didn’t voice that to him, instead insisting that you only needed for him to be safe and happy. You trusted him to make the right choice.

You did trust him. You loved him.

And you showed him as such — throughout the day as you laced your fingers through his, as you rolled your neck for him to feed, as you curled into each other to sleep.

And he had been returning that trust and love back.

He had continued to expand his boundaries with you, slowly but surely as the days went on. Your quiet time together after a long day, you were a reprieve he sought out over and over. You whispered and giggled with each other between kisses in your shared bed in the Elfsong Tavern — tucked into the corner and hidden behind privacy screens. Privacy screens that Karlach had loudly dragged over before giving you both a very unsubtle wink. Then she did the same for her and Shadowheart.

The teasing had been relentless.

You still hadn’t taken those final steps, and you were in no rush too. Astarion’s happiness and agency was the most important to you, always. Yet, you couldn’t help the way your heart thundered and breath got higher as he slowly explored any kind of touch and intimacy with you again.

You were laid together now, draped across each other — you only in your night clothes and Astarion in very thin linen pants. You were pressed gently on top of him, your voice and lips whispering across his pale skin as he pointed his fingertip to various parts of his body. His new game he had started that night — seemingly convinced that he would find a part of himself that you did not love.

Utterly impossible — but you indulged him anyways.

“Even this? You like this?” He pointed to his knobby elbow.

"Hmm,” You hummed approvingly, pressing a gentle peck to the bare, taut skin of his bent joint.

His low laughter rumbled through both of you, shaking you slightly. “I’m running out of ideas.”

You eyed him greedily, “I’m not. You’ve missed some of your best parts.”

“Have I?” He cocked a brow, a smirk spreading across his face. “Alright, go on then.”

“I can—?”

“Mhmm,” He nodded his head against the silk pillow, settling himself deeper into the mattress under your weight.

Swallowing, you took him in underneath you and felt your mind start whirring. Slow, patient, soft — you reminded yourself. You gently touched his jawline, the tip of your finger following the strong line. “Here.”

Then your forefinger and thumb rubbed the cartilage on the tops of his ears, “Here.” His mouth fell open deliciously with that one.

“Here,” You caressed the mole on his cheek with a swipe of your thumb.

You continued your movements, so drawn into him that you didn’t notice his red eyes blazing as they flickered between watching your hand and watching your face.

Your fingers gracefully dragged across him. His Adam’s apple. His knuckles. Collarbone. Inner wrist.

“I told you, there is no part of you that I do not like. Every inch of you I want to—“ You cut yourself off. Perhaps that was too much. This was a fun, teasing game — exploratory and gentle. You hadn’t meant to make it about your own desire and arousal.

He swallowed, his mouth hanging open slightly, “You want to what?”

You let out a fake cough, lifting yourself off of him slightly with a blush crossing your cheeks. “Well, I—“

A grin spread across his face, “Oh, I love it when you get all coy.” He purred, pulling you back before you could fully get away. “Tell me, please.” He whispered.

“There isn’t an inch of you that I don’t wish to kiss. To taste.” You admitted huskily, the heat on your face spreading to your neck.

The groan that escaped him made the fire in your belly sputter even hotter.

“Show me?” He asked softly, but his tone was slightly more sultry than before.

“Sho—show you?”

He nodded before fidgeting under you to display himself more — stretching out his neck, spreading his arms out.

“May I—“

“Darling,” He said the pet name a tad exasperated as his slowly closing eyes snapped to yours. “This was my idea. You don’t have to ask every time.”

“Yes, I do.” You insisted.

He rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his soft curls, “Really—“

But you cut him off. “Astarion, I do. I will continue to. It’s important to me. I never want you to do something you don’t want. I never want to make you feel like that with me.”

“You haven’t. I know you wouldn’t.” He trailed his pale fingers through the hair hanging in front of your face as you hovered over him. He tucked it behind your ear.

“I know it seems like a silly question, especially between us but I want you to know you can—“

It was his turn to cut you off, silencing you with a reassuring kiss. He was looking at you with astonishment when you finally opened your eyes from the deep kiss. “What ever did I do to deserve you my lovely moon?”

You smiled tenderly down at him, “Perhaps it was fate.”

“Hmm," His red eyes blinked slowly, "I used to despise that sentiment.”

“And now?”

Astarion gave you one of the most tender smiles you'd ever seen. “I think you might be right.” He ran his fingers gently down your cheek before letting out a dramatic puff. “Now, stop turning me into a sappy lovesick fool and kiss me already.” He growled playfully.

"As you wish, love." You mumbled as you pressed your lips to his.

• • •

You woke with a stir, the weight of the mattress shifting suddenly and then the sound of scuffling feet. Astarion was standing in front of the bed — in front of you defensively, still only in his night pants with his bare chest rising and falling quickly. A dagger was closed in his fist, aimed in front of him of threateningly. “Stop right where you are.” His voice was commanding like it had never been before, but you could still hear a twinge of uncertainty in it.

“You know why we’re here, brother.” A low, masculine voice said — seemingly coming from the dark shadows in the corners of the large suite.

Astarion's stance grew wider, his grip on his dagger tightening until his already pale knuckles turned white. “Come any closer to us and it will be the last thing you do.”

Peering over your lover's figure, you found four pairs of glowing red eyes studying you intently. The hairs on the back of your neck and arms started to stand up.

"I mean it - get the hells away from us!" Astarion growled again, his hand blinding reaching back for you. You laced your fingers through his and a protection spell was on your lips seconds later, muttered quietly until you felt the magical aura surround him.

The rest of your companions were up on their feet after Astarion's shout, pushing in towards your bed, edging around it in a protective semi-circle. Most of them were scantily clad in only undergarments and nightclothes - but all of them had their hands glowing with magic or weapons drawn. Fury was etched on every one of their faces from the intrusion and threat.

One of the female vampires eyed the rest of your group, counting and calculating. Then she raised her hands up, "We come in peace, brother."

"You call this peace, Aurelia?" He frowned at her. Your grip on him tightened as you stood up and tried to go to his side, but he stepped in front of you protectively once again.

A male stepped forward slightly, his mouth and eyes ruby red with deep scars carved over his skin, trailing down his chin. It was a terrifying sight. But his voice did not match his appearance, and instead was laced with desperation and hope. "The master needs all seven us for the ceremony. Come with us and be reborn. We'll live again."

The suite remained deadly silent. Like you all were waiting to see who would make the first move, who would let loose a spell or swing a blade first.

But it was your meek voice that broke the silence, "How did you find us?"

Their red eyes snapped instantly to you, but it was one of his sister's who spoke. "Master Cazador has known where Astarion was this entire time — where both of you were. He has been watching carefully since you arrived in the city."

"You know what our master will do to them.” His scarred brother warned, nodding his head towards you. His eyes almost looked... sad.

“He won’t get the chance, Leon.” Astarion snarled back.

Leon raised his hands defensively, "We aren't here for them. We are here about the rite. The master needs you. You must attend."

Astarion scoffed, "Oh, I am well aware of what the master needs. But don't we all deserve better?" His features were contorted in a strange mixture of emotion. "After these centuries of torment, I know what you all want. More then power. More than to walk in the sun. You want to see him dead."

The desire for revenge, for Cazador's death, did not surprise you. He had said as much, and bluntly too. You had agreed that Cazador deserved such a fate after the years of abuse and exploitation he had forced upon Astarion.

"If you think I will be a willing sacrifice for him and his deranged ritual, you really are stupidly blinded by him."

"Sacrifice?" Aurelia stepped forward, shaking her head. "No, this is our way to cheat undeath."

"Is that the lie he told you?" He sneered.

"I-"

Astarion's lips curled up, "You're all fools. You think he cares about us? You think he will grant us such power? We are nothing but pawns to be slaughtered for the king — one final, grand maneuver so he can win the game."

His four siblings shook with disbelief. "The master doesn't need to lie to us. He controls us, fully. Why go through the trouble of giving us hope..."

Leon got there first, his face crumbling. "Because its more cruel... shit."

The vampires exchanged a look — a look between siblings that you knew well. One that you had shared with your own brother many times. A silent conversation had happened between them in an instant.

"That manipulative bastard." The other female finally spoke, her words a hiss between her fanged teeth.

"How did we not see this?"

Leon squared his shoulders, moving his red eyes to look back at his free brother. "Astarion is right... because we are blind fools."

"We must go before he compels us too— agghhh." Aurelia grabbed her head, her expression one of excruciating pain. "Aggghhhhh!"

"Take her." Leon commanded the other siblings who looped their arms around her, dragging her away as she fought them. But he lingered behind them for a moment, stopping to look over his shoulder and study the pair of you. To look at the rest of your companions surrounding you defensively. "Help us, brother." His voice was a whispered plea, his terrifying, red eyes wide and shining. Then with a loud crack and a sudden puff of red, they were gone.

A collective sigh escaped your party as they disappeared, spells extinguished and weapons dropped down to their sides before they turned to face both of you.

Astarion’s shoulders sagged as he realized his family had indeed left. He all but collapsed into your side, burying his face into the crook of your neck as you held him back. Really, as you held him up.

You stroked his hair as he murmured into your shoulder, “Tomorrow. This ends tomorrow.”

“Okay, my love. We’ll be with you the whole way.” You whispered into his pointed ear, returning the concerned expression of your companions watching as your hold on Astarion tightened a bit more.

• • •

Whatever you do... I just don't want to die down here.

Sebastian’s voice was echoing in his ears, his mind, and creeping down into parts of him he had just barely started to recognize again. Parts of him that a few months ago he had deemed long dead. He had to force his pink lips into a firm line just to stop them from trembling. 

This place, his so-called home was his personal hell. Every step through the fading carpets and ostentatiously decorated rooms had gotten harder and harder — until he had started to feel physically ill. Bile was rising in his throat, his back and palms of his hands turning clammy. And now, standing in the secret, buried crypt beneath — it felt like the castle above him was pressing down, screaming at him of what a luxury it had been that he was a prisoner up there and not down here. That voice in his head, that ringing, echoing voice. Gods, he wished it would stop. 

And you... you had been so uncommonly quiet. You who had lent him your strength since the moment he met you, you and your presence a steady reassurance that he had come to depend on. But his little moon who was usually so chatty and poetic, was so quiet. Your eyes were wide as you followed him through Cazador’s castle, your steps clumsy and dazed like he wasn't the only one walking through this twisted nightmare. Perhaps it was for you — realizing the realities of what he had been through.

When Astarion's composure had really started to shake, you snapped back to reality and were with him in an instant. Your warm fingers threading through his icy ones. Your voice, your soft, hushed voice using the smallest amount of words to try and put his cruel mind at ease. The words you had used were choice, but powerful. You insisted that all of this was Cazador's cruelty — not his. 

But how could he believe that as he stood in front of the cells filled with people he had brought his master? How could he deny the role he played in all of this when he could stare into the eyes of all of those victims — the stupid, innocent fools who in a fleeting moment fell for him. 

Especially when he realized how fortunate, how damn lucky, it was that he never stumbled on you on the streets of Baldur’s Gate the past year you'd lived in the city. 

Astarion stood before the precipice of Cazador’s ritual room. The grand doors that would lead to these final moments just a few steps away from him.

The fine outfit he picked for himself suddenly felt unbearably tight and itchy. The lacy neck scratching and digging into his skin, his leather shoes too restricting. He had wanted to use the clothes as a symbol to his old master — look how well I’ve done without you, look who I’ve become without you. His hands became fists at his sides, his knuckles white and half moons appearing on the soft skin of his palms as he squeezed tighter and tighter. The only way to stop them from trembling — with both fear and rage. 

“I'm here for you, love.” You whispered gently, your warm fingers ghosting the sides of his wrists as you stepped in beside him. His fists unclenched slightly as he breathed in your familiar scent, as he savored the soft caress of your skin on his. He pushed down the building sob climbing up through his chest, the urgency of the cry growing as he felt your presence surround him. "Just... remember who you are, Astarion." 

Who was he? It felt even blurrier in this sadistic crypt under the castle he used to call home. Though it never was one. A prison, that's what it was. 

And what version of him did you see? Could he really be what you thought you saw? What you thought he could be?

Astarion had left Baldur's Gate against his will — a tormented, violent, broken thing. A puppet. A slave. He thought he had returned to this city anew — a free male, softer around the edges but no longer a thing to be used. His own person.

Yet the second he felt the influence of Cazador's control, the moment he felt that familiar threat he felt as if he was falling backwards. Being backed into a corner, corralled into the cage and slapped into chains that he had rotted away in for two hundred years. 

He would not go back. 

A shudder went through him as he tried to compose himself once more, taking a deep breath that he knew he did not truly need. Looking sideways at you, he gave you a final nod. "I'm ready for this to be over." 

Something flashed in your eyes, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. You nodded, before following him through the grand doors with the rest of your companions trailing behind. 

The descent down those stairs was brutal. Time seemed to drag to such a slow that it was almost like the scene before them was frozen in time. Astarion could recognize the familiar silhouette of his master anywhere. It had haunted him long enough that he had memorized every harsh line and angle. He loosed a breath as he counted six figures bound and hovering by some form of magic — a seventh spot on the top center left open and waiting.

For him. 

"Could it be?!" The voice that plagued his thoughts, his nightmares and memories echoed throughout the large chamber. It sent hundreds of different feelings throughout his body, his flesh getting goosebumps and steps faltering for a moment on the stone stairs.

"Our prodigal son returned to us!" Cazador's voice was jovial, but there was no mistaking why. The final piece to his game had just delivered themselves to him, the sacrificial lamb for slaughter had seemingly come with no ill intent. 

Astarion would make the vampire bastard regret underestimating him.

He could hear you just steps behind him, the pads of your feet, the familiar thrum of your heart increasing as you both stepped closer and closer to Cazador's place on the central dais. He gritted his teeth, his back molars clenching down so hard he swore he heard a crunch in the back of his mouth. He lowered his head, looking up at the monster that had ruined him through his eyebrows. 

"Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?" Cazador snapped, waving his hand dismissively at him. "Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging for our forgiveness."

"I will do no crawling, nor begging." Astarion snarled, baring his teeth slightly. "And forgiveness? Really? You have never forgiven anything. Every mistake, every slip was punished."

The bastard had the audacity to roll his red eyes, "I strove for perfection in all things — even those as imperfect as you. A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts." 

"No!!" He roared, stepping forward once more as he pointed his finger. "No, fuck you and fuck everything you've ever done to me!" 

Cazador raised a single dark brow before letting out a humorless laugh, "You stupid, little boy."

"You son of a bitch!" Astarion couldn't stop the explosion of anger that coursed through him and he charged forward. His pale hand formed a fist as he launched himself at Cazador but a flare of red magic suddenly froze him in place. His body stopped completely, caught mid-lunge with his fingers still curled in a punch. 

He heard a strangled whimper from behind him. It was you, the sound one he had rarely heard — one of you paralyzed from fear. 

But the master mercifully ignored you, only having eyes for his spawn. He smirked as he surveyed Astarion trapped in the swell of magic, "Tut, tut." He clicked his tongue, "Did you think it would be that easy?" 

Astarion let out a groan of pain as he tried to resist the red binding power that started to form around him. Tears began to prickle in the corners of his eyes as they began to squeeze and cut into his skin, seeping into him slowly like a dreadful poison. 

"Astarion!!" His name ripped out of you at his pained cries, stepping forward onto the dais to intervene. The agony in your voice was more unbearable then what he was currently suffering. 

He was a fool to bring you here, to ask you to help him. He had served them all to Cazador on a silver platter.  

“Oh?" The ancient vampire's voice had a hint of wicked glee in it as he turned on his heel and set his eyes on you, with the rest of your companions lingering just behind you. Like he had just finally bothered to notice your presence. "And who do we have here? Your little pet, Astarion?” 

You froze in place, but stood up slightly taller. He watched as you jutted your chin forward, setting your shoulders back as you refused to cower in front of him. Even if he could scent your fear from here.  Then the old master slinked around you, his chest almost brushing your back as he inspected you head to toe. Your jaw set as he circled behind you where you could not see, but you did your best to keep your face neutral.  “And what’s this?” Cazador asked with a flicker of false humor. 

Astarion hissed as the vampire stepped even closer, bending down to eye his puncture marks that had scarred on your neck. “You finally gained enough courage to feed from a being capable of thought? Congratulations, spawn.” Then he took in a large inhale, “And quite an appetizing pick too, they smell absolutely delicious."

His glowing red eyes snapped back to Astarion as he remained behind you, looming over your shoulder. He was gauging every reaction from both of you, he knew.

Studying. Calculating. Deducing. 

Like any manipulative vampire would.

"But it seems my dear boy, you’ve been double dipping with this one haven’t you?” He made to grab your silver hair and Astarion felt his mind go berserk.  “DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!” He roared, pulling hard enough on the magical red tethers around him that they flared and flickered for a moment. 

An evil grin contorted his master's fingers as he still put his long fingers through your hair and pushed it behind your ear. The action revealed even more of your neck so he pressed his prominent nose against your pulse point, inhaling deeply. “Your scent is all over them.” You shuddered involuntarily, your face wincing and flinching away at his cold touch.

Astarion growled, his fangs barring and snapping at his old master. “Oh, so upset. They are your favorite little pet aren’t they?" A long finger nail dragged down your jaw. Astarion's eyes were glued to yours, your body seemingly immobilized from fear — for both yourself and him. Cazador cocked his head as he watched the pair of you before letting out a scoff. "You fool, you fell for your snack instead. What a pity... for once I was almost proud of you.”

He finally let you go, wiping the fingers that touched you off on his jacket like you were a worm he had picked up from the dirt. He licked his lips as he approached his spawn again, still frozen with his scarlet magic that buzzed and echoed with authority throughout the entire chamber.  “Well, I can give you one last comfort, since I am such a generous master." He whispered into Astarion's ear, both of their eyes locked onto your worried expression. "Once you and all your siblings are nothing but pulp... I’ll treat your special love extra carefully. I’ll be so lonely since the rest of you will all be gone. But this one… they will make for a delectable companion."

Another growl escaped from deep in his chest, but the sound was caught as Cazador wrapped his long fingers around his pale throat. “It’s a pity I have to lose you. So much work, so much time... gone. But my new companion will do a much better job than you, with a pretty face like that no one would resist? I mean, even you didn’t.” He hissed in his ear. 

"ENOUGH!” You barked, stepping forward closer to him with your mouth and brow set in a hardline. "Release him, Cazador, at once."

The bastard only smirked and snapped around to meet you, "Ha. Or what?"

"This all ends here. You end here." You did not stutter or stumble. Your voice was strong and carried across the chamber. Your companions stepped up behind you, hands moving at their sides as they readied their weapons and spells at your word. 

"Is that so? You are willing to risk death for him? A wasted, mistake of a spawn? A stupid, little boy?"

Your nostrils flared, your eyes shining with familiar power that was now coming off of you in waves, "I would do anything for him."

"Stupid mortal." Cazador barked, his lips curling in disgust. "I forgot how foolish you can be when you fall in "love". But not to worry... I'll train that right out of you." He twirled back around dramatically, looking at Astarion as he held onto his staff tighter. The red magic swirled and brightened around Astarion, squeezing him so tightly he felt as if may be crushed from the inside out. "You truly forgot my power, Astarion. You truly thought our bond as creator and creation was all that stopped you from killing me. You are weak, my child. You are a small, pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything. But today, you will finally do something worthwhile. You will burn, and I will ascend."

The vampire master flicked his wrist, and Astarion was soaring across the room — completing the final spot in the ritual circle. The entire chamber room suddenly lit up with the red light, a enormous sigils swirling underneath Astarion and the rest of his siblings as they hovered in mid air. Their tops suddenly shredded from the force of the spell as their naked, scared torsos were revealed — the scars littered across them glowing the same scarlet as the patterns beneath them.  

"ASTARION!" His name was a roar from your lips again as you surged forward, hands outstretched for him across the ritual floor.  

"Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant! Ecce dominus!" Cazador's staff slammed down onto the marked stone floor. 

And pain like nothing Astarion had ever felt went through every part of him. 

Read the next chapter: here

[inevitably-ineffable-husbands]

Hi Steph, thank you for your fandom work! Could you please recommend some wing grooming or similar fics for Aziraphale and Crowley? I love the trope because of the not-sexual intimacy and the looking-after-each-other-ness, especially if one of them is touch-starved. Thank you so much xxx

Hey Nonny!

Sorry for the delay in a reply for this one, finally had time to sit down and search my fics for you!

Here are the fics I've tagged with "wings", can't guarantee they're EXACTLY what you're looking for (it's been awhile since I've read them) but they got some wings in them!! :D Hope you enjoy!

AZIRACROW AND WINGS

A Sky Full of Stars by Kedreeva (G, 2,575 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Relationship, Wings, Stars, Fluff, Romance) – Aziraphale takes Crowley as close to Heaven as they can get, these days.

In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather (M, 2,661 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Confessions, Soft Crowley, POV Aziraphale, Post-Canon, First Kiss, Wings) – Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week.

Your Reward Ye Shall Have by sussexbound (T, 3,146 w., 1 Ch. || Angelic Love, Wings, Emotional Intimacy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pining Crowley, Soft Crowley, Emotional Connection, Emotional Porn, Groping, Bums, POV Aziraphale) – It is not the first time Aziraphale has considered giving in. Crowley mumbles something in his sleep, unfurls his long limbs for a moment, before tucking them back in, curling tight, arms wrapped around his knees. He shudders and then settles again with a sigh, and Aziraphale loves him.

a garden all their own by leaveanote (T, 5,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post Canon, POV Crowley, Emotional Turmoil, Aziraphale Takes Care of Crowley, Crying, Nightmares, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Heart Wrenching Pining, Pining Crowley, Wings, Tired Crowley, Romance, Healing, Massage, Light Angst with Happy Ending) – The aftermath. An exhaustion deeper than body. A secret too heavy to carry when when grief burned so close. Crowley has to tell him. "What am I to you?" A saving thing, an agony, a binary star, tenderness, an unhealed wound, a home, a home, a garden. Come to me, we'll heal together.

i want to hold your hand (goddammit) by PersephonesReign (E, 7,695 w., 5 Ch. || Crowley POV, Pining Crowley, Emotional Turmoil, Slow Burn, Soft Crowley, Angst and Fluff, Love Confessions, Nervous / Anxious Crowley, First Kiss/Time, URT, Wing Kink, Anal, Top Aziraphale / Bottom Crowley, Hand Holding) – Crowley just wants to hold Aziraphale's hand. What's so difficult about that?

Exposed by LollipopCop (E, 8,867 w., 2 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, First Time, Making Out, Wings, Love Confessions, Virgin Crowley, Angst with Happy Ending) – In which Gabriel can feel how much Aziraphale loves Crowley, and outs him.

Wings and How to Hide Them by triedunture (M, 10,134 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, First Time, Love Confessions, Body Swap, Wing Kink, Idiots In Love) – Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? Or: Aziraphale definitely fucks and isn't that just perfect?

If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us) by Kedreeva (G, 13,777 w., 2 Ch. || Asexual Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Wings, Worried Aziraphale, Rebellion, Standing Together As One) – Two months after the world didn't end, Aziraphale finds the first dark feather growing in his wings.

Witness the Fall by Waifine (G, 14,512 w.., 5 Ch. || Pre-Fall, The Fall, Post-Fall, Crowley Was Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Angel Crowley, Angst with Happy Ending, Crowley's Memories, Aziraphale POV, Not-Nice Archangels, Feathers, Soulmates, Wings) – Crowley never talked about his time as an angel. Aziraphale never asked. But when Hell sends Crowley a package containing his most painful memories, it is Aziraphale who is plunged into the nightmare history of when his beloved friend, the angel who had once been Crowley, was hurled from the Heavens into the bowels of Hell.

A Desperate Desire by IneffableToreshi (E, 15,944 w. || Post-Almost Apocalypse, 6000 Years of Pining, First Kiss/Time, Lust Potion/Spell, Anal/Oral Sex, Self Esteem Issues, Praise Kink, Top Aziraphale, Virgin Husbands, Bottom Crowley, Blowjobs, Wings, Idiots in Love, Mild Dub-Con, Fluff and Smut, Angst, Aggressive Aziraphale, Happy Ending) – Since the world didn't end Aziraphale has been hoping for things to move to the next level with Crowley. But every time he tries to get close, the demon seems to shy away. Aziraphale begins to think that maybe Crowley just isn't attracted to him that way. He decides, against his friend Anathema's advice, to try witchcraft as a way of making himself more confident, attractive, and desirable. It, of course, goes wrong, because the angel misses the footnote that warns him not to mix magic and alcohol. Part 3 of Accidental Confessions

The Nice and Accurate Love Story of A. J. Crowley and A. Z. Fell by SealandRocks (E, 16,353 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Crowley, Implied Mutual Pining, Emotional Love Making, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Crowley, Jealous Crowley, Crowley’s Plants, Kissing as Healing, Moments in Time, The Arrangement, Love Confessions, Bottom Crowley, Gentle Aziraphale, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Crowley is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss/Time, Anal Sex / Fingering, Wings / Wing Kink, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Kissing in the Rain, Symbolism, Historical References) – Crowley and Aziraphale have been dancing around each other since the beginning. From Eden to London, it eventually becomes very hard to avoid the only other immortal around. And after so many centuries, having a physically body becomes a bit uncomfortable. Crowley is left to wonder what it is about Aziraphale that helps ease the ache in his soul. It would only take him 6000 years to figure out that it was rooted in something deeper all along. Part 1 of Love Stories for the Oblivious

[hopeful-puffin]

Rereading ... Again.

Somebody should seriously take this app away from me. I told myself I wasn't gonna start reading again until I got my physical copy. But, here I am, and I'm making it the few people who see this their problem too. It's just two, so hopefully I can avoid the image limit for once. (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

These are just little observations I've made and I want to talk about them. Because this ship is so precious it needs more love.

First one is pretty obvious, but it's hitting me a little differently this time. It's right after the barracuda assault and Siren is still reeling from his near-death experience. In his own words, everyone is suffering and in pain, but he feels all they care about is how he, the "good for nothing" prince, is doing. He lies despite the clear discomfort, claiming he's fine repeatedly.

There are more images, but I'm focusing on these since they show Siren’s face. He's tired. He's detached. He doesn't want to be here. But he is. Because he needs to check on Skiff.

Skiff, the one with a permanent scar from protecting Siren. He feels guilty seeing scars kn anyone, but this one is clearly so much worse for Siren. Everyone else he hardly looks at. Skiff, by contrast, he gives pause. He looks horrified. Despite feeling like he owes Skiff, Siren still acts like he's fine.

He's hiding. He's deflecting. He's not talking directly about how he's fairing.

Siren doesn't quite do this again with Silver, though it's arguably because she never asks the prince how he's doing. She knows. Silver knows Siren feels guilty about scars. So what does she do instead? She teases the hell out of him, that's what! Silver gets Siren to smile, to laugh a little, to feel more at ease. She acts about what happened but doesn't push for details. She lightens the mood by being silly and playfully prideful.

She comforts Siren in a different way, giving him the space to drop his princely persona and perceived duties. And it works, getting Siren to finally reveal some his true inner turmoil before they depart. And I think is so crucial for the conversation to come.

Silver does, however, still view the prince similarly to their fellow sharks, reminding Siren that their future still hangs from his shoulders.

This is not being brought up to undermine her coming comments before Siren departs, but to reinforce his perceived role amongst his people. He's their savior so to speak. A role he neither wants nor asked for. One he's trying to take seriously but thinks he's failing at achieving because he refuses to murder the imprisoned Beacon.

Which brings us right where this whole thing actually started for me; Siren’s conversation with Kappa. I actually put my phone down and chewed on this for about 1 hour before deciding to make another ranting post.

So here we go, let's bring in Kappa.

Kappa knows something is wrong but gives Siren a safe space to think. When he inevitably asks if his friend is okay, Siren explodes.

I think he needed this. Bad.

Kappa is not affected by the curse. Kappa’s future is dependent upon Siren, but not because of an obligation or even Kappa asking him to. Siren chose to spare Kappa, arguably the first major decision he's ever made in his life. But that's not the point I'm trying to make here.

What I'm getting at is that Siren feels safe enough around Kapp, a guy he's only known for about 2 weeks. Safe enough to scream his honest frustrations in front of. I don't even know if Siren is aware he has a crush on Kappa by this point, but it's entirely possible given his flustered reactions to Silver's earlier teasing. But this, right here, shows just how far Siren has come to like and perhaps even rely on Kappa.

And Kappa, being the little sweetheart is he, doesn't correct Siren. You can tell he's uneasy, but he lets Siren freely get this off of his chest, going so far as to reveal a part of himself he's hidden from the world in turn. An absolutely amazing parallel for what is to come at the end of season 3, by the way.

Speaking of season 3, there's another cute little reference that struck me during episode 18. That of the jellyfish analogy. Siren calls himself one, in reference to how he feels decorative even in times of need. Kappa roles with that to try and comfort Siren.

I'm sure we've all made the hilarious comparison to this:

Kappa, you sly cutie. I see what you did there.

Anyway, back on point. Season 3. Kappa stated in the above panel that, "They're really calming," and, "It's nice to see them when things get scary." If we keep the literal meaning going, what with Siren referring to himself as a jellyfish, Kappa is saying these things about Siren (to his face no less). And, ya know, Kappa calling jellyfish mindless goo.

By this point, I'm fairly certain Kappa is aware of his crush on Siren, making this all the more meaningful in my mind. Whether Siren catches that or not I'm not debating here.

What I am debating is that this does come up again in season 3.

That feeling of safety is important in a partner. That feeling of reliability is important in a partner. That feeling of trust is important in a partner.

Siren is Kappa’s jellyfish. If you're not here for that level of implied corn, why are you reading my rants

Looks like I've almost hit the image limit again, folks! OTL

I was gonna go into Kappa summoning Siren at the season 3 finale, of wanting that feeling of safety in his hour of need. Of Kappa’s regret at having pushed Siren away, pushed away that feeling of protection and calm he so desperately needed. But I'm nearly out of image slots, so I'm gonna leave it at this for now. I'll make a second post later if anyone seems interested. An excuse to talk about this ship is always welcome!

Tumblr lost this entire post when I tried to put it up, so I'm sorry if it seems disjointed at points. I had to retype/re-upload while feeling a bit irked by this site. Hope it all still comes across okay though!

Edit: I feel like there's an analogy in there somewhere about Siren being Kappa’s jellyfish being akin to Siren being Kappa’s light on account of them being the primary light source in the shark castle. Similar to how the Beacon is the light for the entire ocean and such. Or that Kappa himself is a literal light in the dark for Siren that I alluded to in a previous post. But my brain is dead, so I'll chew on it more later.

[spiciestpotatoes]

Excited for the new tummy doctor fic

Ask and you shall receive. I've been thinking of posting another part, but I hadn't had the motivation to do so until this ask.

You can check the first part of the series out here:

If you want to see more of these, feel free to send suggestions for patients who might stumble to Lily's door!

Tummy Clinic Chronicles

Patient #2

Things were still slow in Lily's clinic. While she hadn't had many patients, she was still grateful for the few that came by. It seems that more people are realizing that this is not an all-around clinic. One could be surprised how many people actually experienced tummy issues on the daily. It seemed that every patient she treated had a friend or two who also suffered from one stomach related thing or another.

As she was dusting her office, she heard what sounded like a frantic knock on her door. She quickly went to the door to see what it was and opened it to find a young girl in a hoodie and sweatpants standing outside, arms crossed firmly around her middle. As soon as the doors opened, the girl blurted. "Hi, uh, I am so sorry to interrupt, I was sent here by my friend. Anne Brown, she said to come here for any stomach issues. Is there any way you could take me in today? It doesn't have to be right now, I'm just in so much pain-". The girl seemed very flustered and nervous. Lily opened the door wider, smiling to the girl, and said calmly, "It's okay, I have no patients in right now. Come in, please."

Relief was written on the girl's face as she came into the office. She took a seat in one of the armchairs as Lily took her information. As they were talking, Lily noticed the girls tummy making all sorts of noises, the thought of feeling that storm under her hands warming something inside of her.

"Could you tell me more about how you're feeling?" Lily finally asked, finished with creating a record for Melissa, the young 20 year old sitting in front of her.

"My tummy is incredibly upset, it's bloated and really uncomfortable. It's like I can feel something moving around in there and it hurts terribly." From the sounds coming from the girl's belly, audible even from that far away and in spite of the hoodie she had on, Lily assumed this was something food related.

"Do you have these kinds of issues often?" Lily asked.

"No, only occasionally, although when it happens it's an absolute nightmare, painkillers rarely do anything."

"What have you eaten in the last 24 hours?"

"Oh uh, well, last night I went out with some friends for pizza and cheesy breadsticks. Since I woke up with my tummy already upset, I didn't want to have anything that would sit heavy, so I just had some cereal for breakfast.

Lactose intolerance. That's exactly what it sounded like based off of the food she had last consumed. As Lily pondered the possibility of this being nothing more than an upset tummy caused by a bunch of dairy, Melissa leaned forward further, her tummy letting out a loud rumble that seemed to shake her insides. Lily simply couldn't let her go without feeling the turmoil in the girl's belly.

"Alright Melissa, why don't we head into the examination room so I can take a quick look at your stomach and then we can discuss possible solutions?"

Melissa nodded and followed Lily into the examination room. As she laid on the table, Lily asked her to lift up her hoodie and as she did, Lily found that her belly was a lot more bloated than she anticipated. The band of her sweatpants was a sliver away from starting to cut into her tummy. Melissa grimaced as loud rumbles continued to erupt from her middle. "Okay Melissa, I'm just going to feel around your abdomen just to see what we're dealing with here and check for any abnormalities. " Lily explained as she was placing her hands onto Melissa's belly.

As if in response to her touch, Melissa's belly erupted with more noise than before, making Melissa shut her eyes as it was obviously causing her more pain than she was dealing with until then. It was absolutely wonderful, the sensation beneath Lily's hands was nothing short of blissful as she felt all the commotion deep inside. Each press of her fingers caused an immediate reaction beneath. The lower portion of her tummy seemed especially tender which only confirmed Lily's suspicions of lactose intolerance. "How does it feel when I press here?" Lily asked while rubbing circles over her lower tummy.

"Ahh, it's.. ugh... I can feel it cramp in response. It feels like I might need the bathroom soon..."

Even though she wanted to stand there and feel her tummy for another eternity, Lily didn't want rumours of her patient having an accident in her office to spread so she ended the examination. "Okay, I think you're most likely just lactose intolerant. From what you say that you've eaten last, which was a lot of dairy, I think that's your main issue. ", she couldn't help but comfortingly rub her tummy as it continued growling, using a bit of this time to still enjoy the chaos inside and simultaneously offer comfort to Melissa, "I recommend staying away from dairy for a while and seeing if the problems persist. If they do, contact me and we can set up an appointment to look at further causes. As for your pains right now, unfortunately there isn't much I can do for you. You should feel better once all of that food is out of your system. So just go home and try to rest."

Melissa looked grateful as she pulled her hoodie over her stomach, clutching it with her arms once again. "Thank you, doc. I was worried it might be something far worse." She smiled at Lily, and as she was headed out of her office, she stopped to ask,"Is there a bathroom near here?" embarrassment flushed her face. Lily only comfortingly smiled back. "Yes, down the hall to your right."

[takami-takami]

Venting. Crytyping like an idiot. Sorry. Pet death, sexual trauma implied, neglect

Absolutely fucking heartbroken because i had a heart to heart with my mom. About something completely unrelated to my dad and i TOLD her out loud its okay i can be safe here its not about dad its just about the bunnies you won't betray me this time and she STILL told my dad. Crying in my room. I am so fucking angry.

For context i ugly sobbed last night over pet grief. All the feelings of watching my babies die came back at once snd i felt so my heartache i coudnt help but ugly cry

Had a small argument with my dad just now bc he was being needy and prying and i didnt want to talk about it and he kept pushing and correcting me saying my communication isnt good enough when i said i didnt want to talk but i didnt want to fucking talk at all

I am beyond enraged. Beyond distressed. Do you know how fucking hard that was for me? Do you understand how much turmoil i went through to calm myswlf down while openeing up to her? I cant believe she would fucking do this ti me AGAIN. I cant believe she would hurt me so bad again, why? Why????? I dont fucking understand why she would do this i dont understand

There was a brief moment of cintention in the conversation we had bc she denied she had ever neglected us when i bathed maybe once a month and would brush my teeth maybe twice a year as a child. And i was like what the hell is wrong with you, why do you hurt me??? Why do you keep hurting me by denying?????

I wrote about that so many times and deleted every post because i didnt want to think about that hurt, i wanted to focus on hwo she loved me yesteday i wanted to feel loved

Do you know how fucking hard that was for me? And she still shattered ny heart by bringing my fucking father into this. Why??? why????? Does she hate me????

Just ugly sobbing. 🐹 didny pick up the phone. I never call anyone but i genuinely feel so much pain it hurts

I literally todl her touching things hes been around makes me feel dirty because i sat on the couch anf i told her during my breakdown when im in thr car with him i have to spit after wards becayse he makes me feel gross and the nect day she told him about us and it hurts

I just dont understand. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts

[jmdbjk]

Set me free. A battle cry.

I still think it’s too soon for me to be voicing my thoughts on Set Me Free Pt. 2 but there’s so much going on in my head I have to let some of it out. I’m not an expert on music, the writing or production of it, or on choreography, or on K-pop. What I am is an appreciator and observer of art. And I attempt to express in words my emotions and thoughts while viewing the art. 

First of all... OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Now that I got that out of the way, I want to say I am so proud of Jimin: #1 on U.S. iTunes with all those other releases happening at the same time. And #1 Trending Now on YouTube. Also I think I saw fastest 100 #1′s on iTunes globally EVER (thank you for correcting me). But I know these charts are not the motivation behind his art.

So it begins with some angst with dramatic choir vocals... building up to a crescendo. The music includes a siren-like sound... things are getting critical. The dancers writhing and mimicking screams, invoking chaos, turmoil, pain and anguish.

And then Jimin appears suddenly and the dancers at once jump into order... chaos/order. 

It’s like Jimin’s own psyche with the two sides fighting within. 

The choreo tells the story of the lyrics: “I wandered in a maze, Hennessy and night.” On a path searching for the prize/end and especially these past few years, living a life full of luxury. We know Jimin is a night owl (maybe that is too literal of an interpretation perhaps). 

The autotune vocals add texture and are reminiscent of different voices talking in his head. It’s like using his own voice to role play his different emotions/colors within him: “Finally free; AH YEAH, AH YEAH; I’m standing at the edge; NOT YET, NOT YET; I won’t look back; NOW YEAH, NOW YEAH; fly away, butterfly, finally free” ... 

The choreo here where he mimics a butterfly with his body, fluid and lithe. I literally expected him to levitate during this dance move. 

“Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free.” This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.  

The dancers representing the world around him... at the same time are the confines of his vocation as well as his comrades... part of the constriction and also his saviors. His freedom as well as his box. Chaos and order.

At 1:52 the scene goes dark and one of the dancers reaches over to Jimin’s torso and I am assuming at some point, we will see this is deliberate for a reason. When the lights come back up they are a different color, colder, Jimin’s torso is bare with the words of the poem marching across his body in very straight orderly lines (needless to say, my jaw hit the floor).

It is as if the color of the light represents both sides. Hot chaos. Cold order. I think this part of the song is his inner turmoil. It has a different voice. Very angry. Very aggressive. Nothing like the Jimin we’ve known up until now.

The dancers pointing at him, his naysayers. That’s right Jimin, tell them to fuck off. He’s played by the rules up until now. It’s his turn to flip the table and upend what we’ve known. And wow, he succeeded.

The dancers lifting their fists and arms as if in triumph.

Jimin letting himself be offered up to the sky...the lifting and reaching for the sky/heaven.. higher and higher...  

The resurrection of New Jimin at the end. The direct defiant stare at us. With his back to us. What is he saying? He’s moving on? Are we following? We better get our fighting gear on and go. 

The visuals, his attitude. So many elements: the numerology, the golden spiral (fibonacci sequence), the set mimicking the panopticon. A prison. Caged like a beautiful bird. A place he entered of his own free will but ended up being a place where he was put on display to be criticized and judged for not being what everyone thinks he should be. 

Knowing some of Jimin‘s history, knowing a little bit about his personality and seeing how all of this has come together in this piece of art he’s created just makes me appreciate him even more as the deep thinker he is, a highly talented artist, singer, and dancer, and especially a deeply feeling human being. 

I don’t ever recall anything like this making me overcome with shock or being moved to tears or being made to feel so many different things in the span of three minutes and forty-four seconds as I did last night. 

The nature of art itself is to draw out your emotions. To move you. I was moved.

I am 100% certain on each subsequent time I listen to this song or watch the music video there will be something that will elicit something else within me and inspire another different thought or feeling.

And I know it could be because Jimin‘s solo work was so highly anticipated, so talked about and we didn’t know what to expect. We know he’s been working on it for well over a year and finally seeing the climax of it all, or at least the beginning of the climax, was very overwhelming to me. I mean, promo starts for Like Crazy tomorrow. LET US BREATHE! NO! BRING IT ON!

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus Part 9: Atticus' Birthday

I had intended to write this around my own birthday, but that idea got drowned out by an unfortunate Real Life Event. As a result, I ended up writing the previous roleplay story as it seemed less demanding mentally.

I plan to write two other stories following this taking place on the same day.

This one in particular is very saucy. It's probably the smuttiest I've ever written on here. As such, play close attention to the CW list for things that might not be what you want to read. I have, once again, attempted to separate sections so that the smuttiest bits can be avoided, but an arousal theme does run through most of the story and so might occur outside of the smutty heading.

CW

Very very fast and consistently fast hiccups.

Hiccups induced and made worse intentionally.

Mentions of arousal.

Nudity.

Mentions of genitalia in various detail.

Mentions of trans masc (or trans societal male traits presenting) anatomy post-top surgery and post HRT

Scar musing by character.

Scar touching by character.

Mention of an uncircumcised genitalia.

Fingering.

Masturbation.

Mentions of past alcohol abuse (inferred).

Lobbing someone in the head with a pasta noodle.

The consequences of not looking where you're hiccuping.

This is a story that includes trans-focused contemplation from the inner thoughts of a cis male presenting partner.

I am trans and this is very reflective of my body. (way to be vulnerable, huh?)

Hiccups that are mildly painful.

If there is anything else that I haven't covered that you believe needs a CW, please tell me.

The Plan

“No,” Atticus replied to Otto’s request for what seemed to have been a hundred times this month. They knew they were exaggerating on the number of times he asked, but any time Otto brought the subject up they bristled with anxiety and inner turmoil.

“Hear me out,” Otto implored.

“Otto,” they said, his name nearly whined in desperation.

They were at the kitchen table having lunch. Otto had fixed pesto tortellini with chicken. Atticus’ birthday was tomorrow and for some reason Otto had gotten fixated on a topic that made Atty uncomfortable.

“No, no, I know! I know. I know why you don’t want me to do it. I know you don’t need me to hiccup to love me. I know you don’t want me to hurt my body by making it happen instead of letting it happen naturally. I hope, with how long we’ve been married, that the fears of me taking advantage or teasing you would have gone away. And because we communicate so well, those fears of resentment from you wanting me to induce that you think I will somehow develop are a non-issue. Mainly because you never let me induce...but-but Atty, hey,” Otto stopped talking and encouraged his partner to look at him. “I want to do this. I am acting completely of my own free will. Additionally, I know my body pretty damn well. I know my limits and I’m not going to hurt myself. Trust me, I am way past the hurting myself stage in my life.” Not for lack of a lot more lessons than it took the normal person, Otto added silently.

“Also,” Otto continued enthusiastically, “and this is perhaps my most damning evidence that you would enjoy this more than you’re letting on, I know for a fact that the videos and audio files you play of people inducing hiccups are some of your favorites.” He said this with a pointed mischievous glare.

Atty glared back with less folly but not as much malice as they’d wanted to express.

“I, mm, I-I just,” Atticus started, stuttering and huffing. “I ju-ugh! I just feel so...so guilty!”

“Guilty?” Otto asked with a concerned face. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I just...do! I don’t want you to-to have to do anything like that for me. It’s just—it’s my thing and I don’t want you to have to pander to it like that,” Atticus finally spat out. They groaned and put their head in their hands. Otto’s soft reply encouraged them to look up again.

“I know I don’t have to do it. I don’t feel obligated. I want to do it. It’s not just you who gets something out of it. Trust me, you’re not the selfish one here. You get turned on and share that with me and then...I get turned on. And now whenever I get the hiccups and I’m alone I get turned on by them thinking about how turned on you would be if you were there. Figure that one out. Let’s just say I’m not sharing that one with my therapist,” Otto said widening his eyes for emphasis.

Atticus experienced a little whiplash at that admission. First of all, Otto had admitted it so casually that they hadn’t realized the implication of what he’d said until he’d finished the statement completely and they found themselves backtracking their memory to make sure they’d heard it correctly. Secondly, being reminded that Atticus wasn’t the only one experiencing arousal should have been an obvious statement but it still took them by surprise that while Otto was so obviously giving something of arousal to Atticus that the writer was also providing Otto with an equal amount of arousal.

For some reason, to them, it always felt like Otto was doing most of the work. But obviously he didn’t see it that way.

They must’ve been quiet for a while because they felt Otto’s finger poke the middle of their forehead and they frowned, swatting at it.

“Just checking if I broke anything…” he said with a smirk.

“No…” Atticus said, scowling. Then their face turned thoughtful, eyes wide as they looked at him. “So you really get...aroused when you…”

Otto chuckled, “I really do.”

“Even when I’m not there.”

“Yup,” he confirmed. “I suspect that it’s some sort of memory activation. Sort of...my brain has gotten used to the pattern of having hiccups meaning that I’m going to be aroused and so my big brain talks to my little brain,” he said pointing downward, “and says, ‘Hey buddy! Remember this? You’re about to get some...fun...horny things happening!’ and my little brain is like, ‘Oh yeah! Horny things! On it!’ And that’s, you know, sort of how it goes. I...was about to say it’s more nuanced than that, but it’s really not. Little brain doesn’t really work with subtleties a lot. It’s very Id based.”

“And I almost choked on a piece of chicken!” Atty said, still coughing a little from the surprise and laughing at the dialogue.

“I did notice that,” Otto interjected.

“I had no idea you reacted that way…even when I’m not there. Okay,” they said with a sigh and put their fork down as a marker of decision, granted a nervous marker. “So...how is this going to work exactly?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Otto said, smirking. “How long has it been since I even had morning hiccups?”

“I dunno, as while, I think,” Atticus said, feigning casualness.

“Yeah, you do. Pull out your phone. Tell me when I last had them.”

Atticus scoffed, not moving at first, but they eventually pulled their phone out from the pocket of their sweat pants sheepishly. They pulled up their calendar app and scrolled through the months.

“Um...around 13 weeks? Three months? I think, maybe, you had a few teasers but not a real case...I don’t really mark the teasers. I’m neurotic, but not that neurotic,” they said.

Otto nipped the phone from their hand suddenly but before he turned it around he met their eyes.

“Can I see? I just want to see how you mark it,” Otto said.

Atticus hesitated, but sighed. “Okay, fine.”

Otto turned the phone around and scrolled for a bit before amusement lit in his eyes and he smiled.

“Awww,” he said. “A bubble emoji? Like in Dumbo when he hiccups bubbles? That’s really cute! Oh, and you put multiple bubble emojis for multiple cases on the same day? Coffee bubbles...for my coffee hiccups! Hee! No, this is good. I like this. I mean, I dunno what a stranger would think. Weird shower schedule or—”

The phone was yanked back.

“Okay! Yeah! That’s enough! Sir!” Atticus said, pocketing the phone again swiftly, neck feeling hot with embarrassment. “So, how is this gonna work? What...how are you gonna do it? Also, stop looking at me adoringly or I’m going to stab you with this fork.”

“I love when you flirt with me,” Otto responded, leaning on his hand again with a smile. He ignoring their glare as he continued, “I am going to continue eating this pasta tonight a little later than I should. I’m also going to add just a little bit more spice to it. Just something to sort of...invigorate the vagus nerve, if you will. And then I’m going to have one of those sparkling waters before I go to bed. Setting the stage.

“Tomorrow, if I don’t have them by my first cup of coffee, I’ve got a root beer in there and if that doesn’t work...honestly I got nothing. I’m kind of counting on that root beer.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Atticus remarked, impressed.

“I have. This weekend might be when your party is, but tomorrow is the day I get to celebrate you and I’m not missing the chance to make this as good a day as I can for you. Oh, and I found a new antique’s mall that I want to show you if you’re up for it,” he said.

“Okay, I’m in. You inducing, antiquing...I am there!”

“Seriously? The antiquing got you over me inducing hiccups for you?” Otto said, put out.

“What? No! I...no, it’s just. Otto. I am going to find a fucking banjo clock if it kills me. And that’s your fault, by the way. You made me this into clocks,” they said.

“We live in a house literally lined with clocks on every wall, you know,” he said.

“And not one damn banjo clock. Not one! It’s your fault for telling me about it in the first place. Banjo clocks are so sexy.”

Otto gave them a look.

“Not in that way! I’m not—I don’t have a clock fetish. It’s a turn of phrase!” Atticus argued.

“I wouldn’t blame you, though. Winding a mainspring? Oof. Really gets me going. And putting a pendulum in beat—hey!” he exclaimed with something wet plopped on his cheek. “Did you just throw a noodle at me?!”

The lunch devolved into a miniature food fight.

That night Otto made good on his plan to overindulge on carbs. Atticus made him promise that if he felt uncomfortable or ill that he would cure his hiccups and take an antacid. Even though Otto had explicitly, without a doubt, claimed he wanted to do this Atty couldn’t help but feel nervous. But as they laid down next to their husband and snuggled a little into his soft shoulder they couldn’t help but feel excited as well.

The Induction

The morning started with Otto shifting a little in waking up. Atticus had snuggled into his arm during the night and though they moved quite a bit they found the place again and had rested for the majority of the rest of the night in the soft warmth.

Usually Otto kept a pretty early schedule but the carb intake last night caused him to be drowsy this morning and he startled a little realizing he’d woken up at 7am. To him, that was sleeping in. Atticus stirred beside him before looking up at him sleepily.

“Hey,” they said, voice lower than usual in morning hoarseness.

It reminded Otto of how low Atticus’ voice actually was. Even as their voice had lowered thanks to the testosterone they tended to speak in their higher range. Otto assumed it was habit. But hearing the lower octaves Atticus could utter did something to the clock maker. He enjoyed the gravel.

Otto went to reply but he paused, tucking his chin as his stomach and chest jerked.

Atticus’ eyes went wide and alert and Otto had to chuckle.

“Just a belch,” he said, softly. “Little gassy.” He gave another soft burp and sighed.

The writer tried to hide the disappointment from their face.

“You feel okay?” they asked.

“Yeah. A little ‘hung over’ and bloated from the carbs. I woke up later than I planned,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and stretched.

Atticus yawned in response and rubbed their eyes with the heel of their hand. They grabbed for their glasses so they could see.

“What time is it?” they asked.

“After 7,” he said.

“...gross,” Atty said with a huff and almost wanted to roll back around and go back to sleep, except there was an excited energy they couldn’t ignore.

“You can go back to bed if you want. Happy Birthday, by the way,” he said and gave them a little kiss on their forehead.

It had been established that the only kiss Atticus didn’t need consent for was a forehead kiss. As such, Otto tended to give them out abundantly when he wanted to show his love. He loved watching the tired, grumpy face of his partner morph into a sheepish little smile and their small body sigh in contentment.

“Thank you. I love you,” they replied laying their cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you, too,” he said.

“I’m up now. And, honestly? Really curious to see if your plan is gonna work, today,” Atticus admitted.

“Hmm. Well. I guess I’ll go make some coffee then…”

“Cool. Tell me when it’s ready,” Atty said, and turned around in bed again, closing their eyes as they took off their glasses.

Otto laid there for a beat, a little amused at the reaction, “Okay then!”

As it turned out, coffee was not the instigator they’d both hoped for. Otto was certainly gassy this morning, but the hiccups were elusive despite the clock maker feeling like he was going to get them. He described the feeling as a sort of pressure in his throat. It was like a sneeze that wouldn’t come out, almost.

They both decided before Otto tried the root beer that it would probably be a good idea to have breakfast. Otto went all out. He made all of Atticus’ favorite breakfast items. When all was done there were plates with belgium waffles with fruit and whipped cream next to eggs over-easy and sausage patties and breakfast potatoes. The coffee was a peaberry blend, light roast. Otto made it in a chemex because both the blend and the brewing technique tended to be Atticus’ preference. It was the small things Otto had recorded in his mind that made Atticus feel wholly seen and loved.

Atticus literally couldn’t finish it all, but saved what they couldn’t eat for later. Being a “small king,” as their friends called them, putting away food wasn’t really what their body did best. Otto accomplished more on the food front, but he had already felt a little bloated so he ate less than he normally would. Still, it was much more than Atticus. But that was just a matter of mass. Otto was more than a foot taller than Atty, after all, and much broader though he still read as a lanky man with his long limbs and torso. The writer coveted the clock maker’s soft belly, though. Society be damned, sculpted muscles had never been their thing.

They both came away from breakfast feeling sufficiently full from the feast. Atticus collapsed on the couch in the living room while Otto insisted on cleaning up by himself. It was usually Atty who cleaned up as he did most of the cooking, but because it was their birthday they were shooed away with their coffee mug to luxuriate while their husband took care of the chores.

Atticus watched Otto’s tall form navigate the kitchen, his long arms easily reaching the cabinets and his long legs quickly navigating the space between placing objects in their proper places. They caught him belching and burping a few more times, rubbing his stomach absently as if coaxing more gas out.

After that breakfast, Atticus felt their own stomach was a little distended as well, but not painfully so. It was a pleasant plumpness, like Otto’s presented. Atticus was happy to have the shape they did. After their top surgery and hormone replacement therapy they grew fond of the way weight distributed in their middle and the softness it gave them. They appreciated it as much on their own body as they did on Otto’s.

Finally, with one final reach of Otto’s arm into the refrigerator to grab the root beer, the clock maker made his way from the open kitchen to the couch and settled himself next to Atticus.

“You didn’t talk much during breakfast,” he noted.

“I was too busy enjoying it,” Atticus said, sipping their coffee and watching Otto’s hand twist off the top of the brown glass bottle.

“Mm,” Otto said with suspicion. “You weren’t too busy watching every time I burped to make sure I wasn’t hiccuping?”

Atticus sputtered a little, glad they had swallowed the coffee before his question.

“I—” they said, about to deny it, “Well. I mean. Maybe…”

Otto laughed softly.

“I’m not teasing you too much, am I?” Otto asked, checking in.

“No,” Atticus responded seriously, shaking their head. “It’s kind of cute. I like it.”

Otto put the bottle up to his mouth and then lowered it suddenly, “Oh good, cause I just wanted to make sure.” He took the bottle up again and lowered it. “I just didn’t want it to seem like I was being cruel.” the lip of the bottle almost reached his lips when he lowered it once more. “Because sometimes I have a tendency to over d—”

“I swear to gawd…” Atticus interrupted him in a calm but stern voice having been following the path of that bottle every time he raised it.

“I can hear the threat of bodily injury in your voice,” he said, amused.

“Drink it!” Atty exclaimed.

“Guess it’s not cute anymore,” he muttered, his voice echoing into the neck of the bottle as he finally took a few healthy gulps of the root beer.

At the last swallow Atticus watched Otto’s body spasm suddenly. This was more than just a suppressed burp.

Otto lowered the bottle to his lap and his body jerked two more times, silent hiccups rocking his body backwards. “I think I’ve got ‘em,” he said, face concentrating as another hiccup jerked his head back with a little squeak from his throat. He also released a couple more airy belches as the hiccups continued interspersed. “They’re a little heurp!-a little weak. I’m gonna drink a little more.”

“Okay,” was all Atticus could say as they felt excitement thrum through them like electricity that all of the anticipation was leading to him actually getting the hiccups...for them. They felt an emotion beyond simple arousal, but one filled of gratitude that they hadn’t expected feeling.

As Otto downed the rest of the bottle Atty enjoyed watching his stomach jiggle softly with the hiccups triggered by his gulping. Still, they noticed, the hiccups he’d developed weren’t as fast or hard as his normal hiccups.

Otto had his hand on his chest as he waited for one hiccup after another. He seemed to notice their lack of boisterousness, too. They were squeaky, airy hiccups. While it was humorous to hear the higher pitched hiccups come out of Otto compared to the huskiness of his regular hiccups, they didn’t seem to create as much body movement. Still, Atticus was extremely excited to see his hiccups at all after so long.

“These are different, right? Heulp! Than my regular hiccups? Not as hyup!-as fast or strong?” he asked.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” Atty said. They cuddled close to him, putting a hand on his belly as it bounced in another spasm.

But Otto seemed to be thinking about something, eyes narrowed in consideration. Atty listened to his chest as he released another soft burp and hiccuped right after.

“I have an id-idea,” he said, jolting with another silent hiccup. “I’m gonna hold my breath.”

To anyone else this would’ve seemed counter productive to the goal, but both Atticus and Otto knew that when he’d tried to cure his hiccups in the past by holding his breath it made them remarkably worse. Specifically, Otto’s hiccups became even faster than normal.

Atty hadn’t seen this themselves, but they’d been told by Otto that for about a minute after holding his breath they would speed up quite a bit before calming back down to his normal pace (which was still quite fast compared to other people’s hiccups).

The speed of those hiccups apparently startled his friend, then roommate, so much that he suggested going to the hospital. But Otto laid down to see if they would go away on their own first and they did, eventually. It was the longest time he’d had the hiccups (sober), a little over 5 hours in total.

Knowing this story brought some concern to Atticus.

“You sure?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Otto said. “If they get too bad w-hmp!-we’ll cure them. I just feel like these aren’t go-gonna last very long.” He gave a soft chuckle. “I hope I don’t end up-up curing them.”

Even Otto’s weak hiccups had a pretty decent effect on his body. The indentations in his neck might not have been as deep but his body still jerked and swayed with every hiccup. Atticus rubbed his back reflexively.

“Alright,” they agreed.

Otto took a large breath in and held it. For a moment nothing happened. There wasn’t even a hiccup after the time there had been before. Otto shot Atticus a frown of disappointment. Had it cured them after all? But then there was a hard hiccup and it jerked Otto’s body so hard that it shocked them both.

The clock makers hand went to his chest instinctively. Another hiccup barreled in close to the last. And then almost immediately after that a third hiccup shot through his body, throwing his head back as he widened his eyes in surprise. After that they were coming pretty consistently.

Atticus immediately felt their body react to the stimuli. Between their legs started pulsing as Otto let out his breath to a cacophony of newly energized hiccups.

“Hu-uck!-huuck!-h’muck!-huck!-HUCK!-HUCK!-hmk!-hmmmk!-hmmMMK!-I-mk!-I thmmk!-think th-uck!-that dihip!d it!” Otto struggled to say.

He turned toward Atticus and the writer watched his head be forced back over and over again. Anyone else wracked with such strong and fast hiccups might have a hint of distress on his face. Otto’s face held a soft smile, though his brows scrunched a little at each hiccup.

“Do-huck!-you-h’muck!huck!HNK!-wa-hmk!-nthup’k!-humk!-to-huck!-hu-uck!-go-unk!mk!huUCK!-upsta-hrk!hrk’l!-huck!-stairs?” Otto eventually got out.

‘Do you want to go upstairs?’ Atticus translated in their head through the nearly blinding arousal that hit them.

Otto’s head bobbed with each hiccup. His stomach was visible through the tight white undershirt and it jiggled in reverb as the hiccups kept forcing it over the edge of the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

Despite Otto being the one that should’ve been rendered speechless by his hiccups’ speed, Atticus found themselves not able to verbalize a response in the throws of their excitement and simply nodded in agreement.

The couple traversed the stairs to their bedroom single-file, as the narrowly designed stairwell only allowed as such. Atticus kept their hand on Otto’s ever bouncing back as they followed him. The sound of his hiccups, which were louder as he exerted himself with the climb up, echoed off the walls.

They came in doubles and triples in between small second respites where Otto found his breath. The clock maker realized that it would have been smarter to induce in their bedroom once they both finally landed on the bed. His hiccups were giving him very little leeway in catching his breath. He forgot how exhausted he got when they had been this fast before. But, unlike before, he was also getting excited. He wanted nothing more than to give Atticus the very best for their birthday and, judging by his partner’s face as they sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and rubbed his back in acknowledgment of his struggles, he was succeeding.

“You good?” they asked, checking in on him. They’d never seen him hiccup this fast so consistently.

He was still on the edge of the bed and was leaning his elbows on his knees. His body was jerking upward every half-second. The hiccups had gotten rounder and sharper as they continued, interspersed with his normal lower and huskier hiccups.

“Hup!-hup!-hup!-hup!-mk!hpk!-hmp!hup!-huUP!-hulp!-huck’l!-hip!hip!-hip!hip!hup!” Otto had attempted to talk but had given it up. Instead he nodded and put a thumb up.

The Saucy Bit

He scooted back on the bed and used a pillow to prop himself up as he pulled out the drawer of the nightstand to dig out supplies. When he looked up he saw Atticus had already begun to disrobe. Their top surgery scar, running across their entire chest from one side to the other and peaking at the middle in curvature, picked up the reflection of the sun through the window. The thickened skin was raised in places a little, hypertrophic scarring that had never decided to settle into the small white line the other parts of the scar had taken on.

The writer was self-conscious about the thickness of the scars, but Otto loved the texture they made as he rubbed his fingers across them as he did now while they leaned forward to take off their sweatpants. They smiled at Otto’s touch trying to set their head against his while he explored their chest but was unsuccessful with how hard Otto’s hiccups continued to jerk his head back rapidly.

As usual, Atticus left their boxers on. Otto never questioned why they didn’t want to expose themselves fully, but he could only guess at the dysphoria they may feel so he trusted them to create that boundary without having to spell it out.

Otto was delighted that Atticus still allowed him to explore their anatomy, though. Being able to actively increase their arousal when they were already aroused by touching them was euphoric. He loved how different Atticus felt to his fingers than anyone else he’d been with, vagina or penis. He had greatly enjoyed experimenting with them to see what felt best and how much pressure to give and where.

With this being in his mind, even while hiccuping madly from his self induction, he rerouted Atticus’ body when they came toward him while facing him. He had an idea and he was having trouble verbalizing anything so he hoped his non-verbal manipulations of their body would translate.

Atticus was confused at first, but at the encouragements of Otto’s hands on their body they found themselves turned to face away from him. Then Otto pressed their back into his front and they suddenly realized why. They could feel every movement facing this way. It was like when they were in the park underneath that tree during Mark’s birthday. Otto, now stripped down nude, was flush to Atticus’ back as he leaned on the pillow cushioning him from the headboard of the bed.

Atticus’ body jerked with Otto’s and they took a breath at the rush of arousal that hit them. They felt his stomach spasm in the small of their back while simultaneously feeling his chest jerk away from them. As usual, Otto found Atty’s neck and nuzzled, his hiccups jerking his head across their shoulder and the loudness of some of them hitting Atticus’ ears increasing their arousal all the more.

“HUP!-HUP!-HUP!-HUCKAH!-huck!huck!-huck’m!-mk!-hup’k!-huppah!huck!-h’muck!-mk!mk!-huck!…” and so on as Otto’s excitement continued.

To say Otto wasn’t getting tired from the onslaught would be a lie. But the excitement he felt as he continued to get harder and harder with each squirm Atticus made and each gasp of ecstasy they let out was worth whatever consequences he might face from the strength and speed of this case.

When Atticus’ hand made to relieve and pleasure Otto he pushed it away.

“Le-hup!-Let-hup!-me-huck!huck!-focu-ulp!-focu—f-hulp!-s on-hup!-on-hup!-yo-hup!hup-you!” he said, struggling. ‘Let me focus on you.’

With a gasp, and boy had Atticus been doing that a lot, they felt Otto’s long fingers slick with lube travel under the front their boxers from behind. They whimpered as he coated them and started his slow administrations. Atticus’ body pressed into Otto’s behind them, legs opening.

Otto’s hand and fingers would twitch as his body lurched with hiccups in between the soft and focused movements and, every time, Atticus found their body jerking in time with the twitches and hiccups. They lost themselves in Otto’s fingers and body and sounds. They moaned and cussed and hissed until breathy gasps hit them when Otto stroked faster against them and they felt the cold hot rush travel up and down their body with a shivering arch of their back and final whimper and their body fully relaxed into the cushion of Otto’s body, still jerking with hiccups.

It took them a few moments to open their eyes, not realizing they’d closed them, and turn toward their husband, head craning up and back to catch his pinched expression of arousal. Knowing, somehow, that Atticus was responsible for that intense look brought a warmth into them they didn’t know quite how to explain.

Otto had already started to grab himself, no longer able to hold back his own needs. Really, he didn’t need lube or a condom and only used the latter for quicker cleanup. He was uncircumcised and made full advantage of his ability to pleasure himself so freely.

“Can I watch?” Atticus breathed, voice as low as their register would go and husky with recent climax.

Otto shivered at their voice and nodded quickly as Atticus turned around. They watched him as he whimpered in stimulated arousal between the spasms his throat was still emitting. Atticus settled themselves beside his body, hand on his stomach, half straddled on his thigh.

Otto locked eyes with his spouse, dark eyes to dark eyes, his hooded by his prominent brow and theirs behind the lenses of their glasses. His hiccups stayed fast but became squeaky, desperate, as he closed his eyes. The feeling of moistness on his thigh from Atticus’ wet soaked crotch through their underwear broke him through with a grunt as he gasped and relaxed, opening his eyes finally and blinking.

The Afterglow

He could feel Atty’s head next to his neck, now, in the crook of his shoulder. He could feel their hand slowly massaging his belly and he realized he did, indeed, still have the hiccups. But, small miracles, they weren’t as fast. Though they were still strong.

“Hu-UCK! Aaah. Mmm. Hu-mmk! Uh. MMK! Mmm,” he muttered as he rubbed his chest.

“Starting to hurt?” Atticus asked, lips moving on his chest before looking up at him.

“Not yet Hu-ulk!-mmm. Just h’plmk!-uh, just tight. Huppah!” he gave a sigh. Some of them were still a little squeaky and it was starting to tickle his throat. He cough-hiccuped a couple of times in response, holding a fist over his mouth. He plapped his hand back down on his chest after he cleared the irritation.

Otto felt his partner’s hand on his cheek and he let his head be guided lazily to their eyes.

“Thank you,” they said passionately.

“That was-huck!-that was good? Huck’m!” he asked.

Atticus took a hand to his chest and gave it a brief massage that elicited a hiccuping sigh from Otto.

“That was amazing,” they confirmed. “I’m going to kiss you, now.”

“Ooh-hoop!” Otto exclaimed, straightening up a little bit past the pillow that cushioned him in excitement.

Atty giggled at the movement and expression on his face, eager and earnest. They held his cheek again, loving the rough texture of his short beard on their palm, and leaned in to provide their thanks in a kiss far past their normal chaste fare.

Otto hiccuped once, hard, in the middle of the kiss and as the kiss ended he hiccuped again just as forcefully. His head met the back of the headboard sharply with a crack that probably sounded worse than the impact.

“Ow!” he yelped, holding the back of his head with a wince.

“Holy crap, man!” Atticus said placing their hand over his on the spot where he’d impacted. “Wow, way to ruin a moment!”

“Mmk!-uh, thanks for the sym-mmp!-sympathy huck-ah!” Otto said, the last hiccup hitting him with such force that it sent his head back toward the same spot it had hit before. Fortunately both his and Atticus’ hands prevented it from impacting this time.

“Alright, sit up! Sit up! I do not want a concussed husband for my birthday,” Atty insisted. “You need an antacid? Or cure? I got that lemon juice the other day at the store so you don’t have to keep biting into lemons. Bad for your teeth.”

As Atticus’ hand finally trailed off the back of his hand and down his face before departing completely, Otto sat up, slouching a little, and smiled fondly. The position made his hiccups more apparent and he rubbed his neck feeling the muscles there pull. He’d not had hiccups in so long that he’d forgotten how sore his neck got when they were that fast. Talk about repetitive motion injury. But, spying one of his many clocks, he realized he hadn’t really had them for that long. Though the pleasure he experienced with Atty had made time seem a lot slower. Their speed certainly did a number on his body, though.

“Mmm-hmuck!-mm. Shower fir-erk!-irst?” he suggested. “And I need to holmk!-need to thro-mmk!-throw these sh-hip!-sheets in the washer while mmk!-uh while I’m thinking of it HILP!”

“Shower does sound nice,” Atticus agreed.

“You go st-HERP!-start it while I thr-hup!-throw these in the mmk!-laundry?” he asked, gathering the sheets as they both slid off the bed at last.

“Okay,” they said with a smile and a small kiss to his cheek as he bent down to collect the linens.

Shower-time (implied nudity)

Atticus stood in the shower letting the warmth through their hair and over their body. Their muscles were still charged and they were still a little sensitive from Otto’s birthday present. Just reminiscing the way he looked and how it felt was enough to get them a little excited again.

These sessions they had were infrequent compared to other couples, but absolutely worth the wait. And chances were high that even after this case ended Otto was bound to get them again a few more times before the end of the day.

Atty heard the bathroom door open and: ~H’MUCK!~

The sound shot around the room bouncing sharply off of every surface in a reverberating tinny echo.

“Shit!” Atticus startled. They held the bar of the glass shower door to keep themselves from falling.

“Damn! That wa~higgup!~-uh, was loud. ~hmmk!~” Otto said, covering his mouth to the last hiccup, though it still found a way to echo in the small bathroom. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay!” Atty said pulling the glass door back and peeking out. “Come on in.”

He stepped into the tub and pulled the door to behind. ~Hk-mmp!~ He was trying to muffle them now to prevent the loudness, but now that Atticus was prepared for it his hiccups sounded amazing when amplified by the bathroom’s acoustics.

“I can’t tell,” they said as they moved aside to let him wash water over himself, “are they worse or is it just the bathroom making them sound worse?”

This was the writer’s casual way of checking in on their husband to make sure they were okay. Those hiccups had been no joke. And he’d let them get that way on purpose because of them. While Atticus was touched by the gesture, they were aware that having the hiccups like he had was exhausting and possibly painful.

“I think it’s the ~hulp!~ the bathroom-~HUP!~ Shit! Sorry!” Otto said covering his mouth and then putting the hand on his chest as his head jerked back a few moments after with another that he silenced. That last loud one had taken him by complete surprise.

Atticus couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“It’s okay. I kind of like how it makes them sound,” they admitted. They said this while lathering up their hands and starting to wash his stomach and chest.

Were the silicone scrubbers much more efficient at washing than soap and hands? Yes. But any excuse to touch their partner’s belly and watch the hiccups continue to affect him was worth the deficit.

“Yeah?” Otto said, looking down at their administrations with a smile and a, “~HUCK-uh!~”

He laughed at the ridiculous way the sound carried his hiccup which made him hiccup again, this one a little squeakier. “~HILK!~” Which made him guffaw and he eventually released a, “~huUUCK!~” But that one made him wince as his stomach and chest told his brain that all of this hiccuping nonsense was getting a bit much by sending a little spike of pain into his core.

“Oof…” Atticus responded sympathetically.

“Ugh. ~hu-UCK!~ Yeah. I’m def—definitely getting rid of ~h’MUCK!~ of these before ~mk!mk!~ before going to the antique’s ~humpk!~ store. Ow…” he hissed and then looked sheepish. “Sorry…”

“No apologies necessary,” they said reaching up to caress his face. “You jacked up your diaphragm for me and I am very grateful but you definitely need a break.”

He laughed a little in response, it ending in a “~hu-UP!~” that encouraged him to take a deep measured breath in an attempt to soothe his abused diaphragm.

“Can I ~huULP~ wash the rest of my body, now? ~ULP!~-uh!” he asked as he watched Atticus continue to circle the soap along his chest and belly, his body hair there swirling in response to the movements of their hands.

Atticus paused and looked up, glint of mischief in their eyes for just a moment before they rolled their eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Okay, fine!” they relented.

They turned away from him (and quite possibly the most adequately cleaned belly and chest on the planet) to soap up their own body as he chuckled again.

Planning for the Next Installment (no hiccups)

After both of them had showered and dressed Otto made quick work of curing his hiccups. They had finally started to settle down anyway after the shower and by the time he swallowed the shot of lemon juice they relented easily.

Popping an antacid for good measure, he ushered Atticus into the car.

“You’re up to something…” Atticus said suspiciously.

Otto was grabbing his seat belt and snapping it in with gusto when he looked up.

“Yeah I am! Up to some antiquing!” he said with a grin and a small pinch to his spouse’s shoulder. “C’mon, get your seat belt on!”

“Yeah...no...this is more than that,” Atticus replied as they buckled themselves with not quite as much energy as Otto had somehow revived after his show-stopping hiccups earlier.

“Pssh! What? No! I love antiquing! You know that!”

“Not this much. In fact, you usually get bored halfway through the lots,” they said, eyes narrowed.

“Okay. Do you actually want to keep asking questions?” Otto said, lips pinching closed and eyes wide in askance. His brows went up too as he cocked his head to the side. The expression and gesture implied that if Atticus wanted to be surprised then perhaps they should stop digging.

“...no,” Atticus decided.

“Good answer! Let’s go!” Otto exclaimed.

To be continued… (fondly written ellipses, not ominously)

[thegreatimpersonator]

Oooh I have more things to add to the old label theory if you enjoyed that one. You know how she said Scooter wanted her to sign an ironclad NDA where she'd never be able to talk about him in a negative way in the future? And how annoyed she was at that even being a possibility? I 100% believe she was so annoyed because she's already had to sign one before, and it happened when she ended the contract with Big Machine. She's never said a single negative thing about the label or Borchetta. You could argue that her talking about him during the masters sale is talking bad, but it could also be argued that she's just stating facts too. But she'd be toeing the line. However, just like Colleen Ballinger (I HAD TO MAKE THIS JOKE SORRY NOT SORRY), she figured out she could put it in a song. Mask it as turmoil in a romantic relationship and she's good to go.

My examples of this include (long list ahead, also I'm not including songs pre-Lover because I've seen that to be a bit controversial with fans and I don't want you catching any heat for me):

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince (I don't wanna fight vibes but also "Voted most likely to run away with you" vs "You say I abandoned the ship but I was going down with it"

Death by a Thousand Cuts ("Why am I still writing pages?" the story ended with the contract ending aka "paper-thin plans" and even her explanation of the song being about a slow and painful death of a relationship fits this theme)

I could argue Cornelia Street is about signing with Republic but I know it's a touchy one with fans leaving flowers and candles at the apartment there (I'm sorry but those fans are too much for me)

the 1 obviously, and the part in cardigan about being young and people thinking you know nothing, and in the last great american dinasty, you know how she says the dog was painted green, but in real life it was the cat? I think that's a nod to this specific storyline in her song in the sense, yes, all these things did happen, but I'm gonna make you think it was my lover (dog) not my business partner (cat).

exile, my tears ricochet, the "you were never mine" and "you weren't mine to lose" in august can also be about her masters, hoax, gold rush could be about that offer she got from Big Machine, where she'd have to record a new album for each one they sign over to her. She almost thought yes, but it could never be and "everybody wants you" sounds like there were a ton of people wanting to buy the label. The obviously we have tolerate it, happiness, closure, and it's time to go (I want to add here that the 15 million tears line is likely about her dad because be made $15 million from her masters being sold because he owned a small percentage of the label).

On to Midnights, I'm staring with Midnight Rain and then we have Question. I know it's an odd choice but it makes sense when you think about it - people could have been making fun of her for signing to a brand new label back in the day, thinking it wouldn't go anywhere, but she turned out to be the meteor strike for that label, which left everyone clapping. "Do you wish you could still touch her" aka "Do you wish you could still make bank off her art, especially now that she's bigger than ever?" which leads me right to Bejeweled and "the shoes I gave you as a present"and then Labyrinth is about singing to Republic. High Infidelity especially with "At the house lonely, good money, I'd pay if you'd just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time" with The Prophecy in perspective. I'd say the "give me back my girlhood" line fits this narrative too, because "the wound won't close". Hits Different as the wound is still bleeding, as is in You're Losing Me.

OH THIS IS SO GOOD I love love love this interpretation!!!