#i really like that he's mindful of that and is conscious of not dominating the conversation and letting chris speak

[viir-tanadhal]

i was going to post about this but then forgot but anyway i feel like it really is the case that the reason neil and chris have been still going for over 40 years and haven't had a major falling out or break is because of the nature of how much they respect each other both on a personal level and also a working partnership level

[hannieehaee]

ENDLESSLY

18+ / mdi

summary: despite not having a large audience, jungkook's camboy career prevailed with the hopes that someday he'd make enough money to finally leave his dead-end job. what happens when one of his admirers offers to make that dream come true?

content: camboy!jungkook x trustfundbaby!reader, jungkook is shy, jungkook is a faceless camboy with a very small audience, reader is younger than jk, kind of pathetic!jungkook, reader is rich and very confident, slowburn (kind of), afab reader, smut, camming, masturbation (m receiving), oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.7k

a/n: this really was just a spur of the moment fic that came to mind on a random thursday lol i hope u guys enjoy it!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Well, that's it for today guys, thanks for watching."

With an awkward chuckle, Jungkook reached out to his computer screen and shut the laptop closed, groaning just as he stopped being out of earshot.

233 viewers.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to give Jungkook the hope that maybe someday he'd be able to find pride in the number. Maybe his streams would blow up in views overnight one of these days – the hope prevailed. It had been a month since he hit the 200's, now garnering an average of 250 viewers per stream.

It was quite embarrassing to him sometimes. There were instances in which he'd finish a stream and regain full consciousness of his actions, becoming embarrassed at the knowledge of strangers watching him cum — of them hearing his voice and his whimpers as he played it up for their entertainment — and of him not even being able to make a living out of it.

He had to stay creative, sometimes finding scripts online that he'd read out to his viewers while he jerked off, playing the role of a subby coworker or a dominant childhood friend in order to keep his audience engaged (and maybe incite one or two to send money his way). Other times, he'd simply ramble about his life (but never get too specific) whilst he let himself lose control on camera.

Jungkook never once showed his face, only ever giving people glimpses at the tattoos decorating his arm and of his cock as it stood against his abs. The most he'd ever shown had been a small view of his lips before the camera's frame cut off.

He liked it this way.

In reality, he was too shy to ever be outspoken about doing such a thing, which was why no one in his life knew about it. He didn't judge anyone who enjoyed camming, but he was simply too self-conscious to do such a thing. Despite being aware of how handsome people thought him to be, he had never been too forward when it came to sex, much less this.

This had all started a little over a year ago, when he'd come across a few cammers on Twitter late into the night. Going on their accounts out of sheer curiosity, he realized that they each had a large following, not only on Twitter, but also on camming websites. Some of them even had their Patreons and PayPal accounts linked to their accounts, amassing even more revenue from these third party websites on top of their income from the camming sites. This was what mainly caught his attention.

Part of him felt bad about being on it solely for the money, but he was beyond desperate. And so he held the false hope that he'd somehow have the same luck as them and create an income out of this.

As someone who had only recently graduated university, having found no luck in his field, Jungkook had to resort to applying to jobs he felt were below his level of expertise. Having no connections in his field and no call-backs from employers, he found himself working a part time at a gas station accompanied by a part time at a grocery store. Both jobs were miserable to him.

The jobs themselves were not horrible, but attempting to manage both schedules and both sets of responsibilities was slowly weighing down on him. His coworkers were also not the best to be around. And did he mention the commute to each establishment? That part ate up at his days drastically, leaving him with almost no time for rest.

Jungkook knew that he should've given up on camming a long time ago. Hell, he'd made a grand total of $876 dollars in the past year he'd been at it. That would be a laughable amount to all the cammers that had inspired him into taking such a profession. But he didn't have any other prospects. Even as he worked his two jobs and cammed, he continued to search for more fulfilling (and better paying) employment, but was unable to ever even get any callbacks.

And so now he found himself doing about three streams per week, getting more and more discouraged each time he'd end a stream with the same low number of viewers.

With yet another sigh, Jungkook got up to go clean himself up, lethargic in his movements due to both the physical and mental exhaustion of having worked all day, only to come back home for a lowly appreciated stream.

Coming back from a much needed hot shower, he did his usual skin care before heading back to bed, where he had been recording just now. For a moment he pondered whether he should go to sleep now in order to get ready for work early next morning or to indulge in watching some anime as a reward for the tiring day.

Going for the latter, he opened his computer back up, sighing again when he remembered he hadn't closed the tab in which he'd been camming.

But before he could actually tap out of it, something caught his attention, making his eyes widen more than he thought possible.

burner98 donated $1,000

This must've been some sort of mistake. Right? Maybe they mistyped? No one in their right mind would donate such an amount to a faceless cammer ranking up to less than a thousand weekly views.

All his prior donations had been in the lower numbers, usually only ever amounting up to $20. Never had he ever gotten someone to donate anything in the triple digits, much less going into the quadruples.

The name of the donor also caught his attention. Babystarcandy. It was a frequent watcher who had been in attendance to every single stream of his starting a few months back — which was when they'd first made an appearance in his audience.

He had never noticed this viewer in particular, though they were one of the only people to ever grant him donations. They'd usually donate whilst he was off stream, which he found slightly strange but never questioned. Checking through his donation history, he saw this name listed three times prior, with donations of $5, $15 and $20 respectively. They'd happened throughout the months, with no pattern in particular. It made no sense for them to donate such a high amount to Jungkook out of nowhere, especially not while he wasn't actively on stream.

With a heavy heart and half a mind to simply keep the money, he decided to message the donor to inform them of their mistake and follow through with a refund.

So much for his anime binge before bed.

babystarcandy - Hey, burner98. Thank you so much for the kind donation, but I think you made a mistake. I'll refund you.

He decided to go with something kind of formal. After all, he'd never spoken to this person before.

Surprisingly, the response came within minutes. Being three in the morning, he assumed you'd wait til the following day to reply, but maybe you were in a different time zone.

burner98 - omg hiii !! did i make a mistake ?? im sorry !! i meant to send 1k. did it not go through correctly ?

Had that not been an accident? One thousand dollars?

This made no sense. Why would you send him such a large amount out of nowhere? That was more than he'd made in the entire past year. Hell, that was half his rent.

Jungkook had no idea how to respond to you.

As much as he wanted to accept it, it felt like robbing you of a fortune.

babystarcandy - Gosh, hi! No, the thousand came through, it's just ... Are you sure this is correct? This is a lot of money ... I'd feel terrible taking so much from you

Once again, you responded almost immediately.

burner98 - haha ur so cute

burner98 donated $2,000

burner98 - is that better ? ;)

Holy fucking shit.

Jungkook's hands were shaking at this point. His eyes couldn't believe what was right in front of him.

Quickly, he took out his phone to check his baking app, checking to see if the deposits were legitimate. Upon opening it, he found that his balance had in fact gone up $3,000. This was far more money than he'd ever had in his bank account.

He stared blankly at it for a few moments without so much as breathing. A reminder to snap out of his trance arrived in the form of another chime coming from his computer — a new message from you.

burner98 - did i scare u off :((

burner98 - just wanna help u out :(((

Immediately, he rushed to respond, not even thinking before typing anymore.

babystarcandy - no! not at all! this is just so much money. i dont want you getting yourself into financial trouble for me

Within seconds, you responded.

burner98 - haha it's okay i can afford it dont worry <3

He furrowed his brows worriedly, typing up yet another message.

babystarcandy - i really dont mean to sound ungrateful, but why ? it's so much money ... this is life-altering type of money for me (as made up as that may sound) my content isn't even that good. why are you giving me this?

He knew he was shooting himself in the foot by questioning it so much and not simply accepting it, but he'd learned through his life that good things don't just come out of nowhere. He needed more details. At least for his peace of mind.

burner98 - i adoooore ur content. u've helped me so much u have noooo idea !!! u deserve it !! u mentioned in ur live a week ago u were struggling with money, so ofc id wanna help u out pretty <3

Fuck. You actually liked his content? His content was worth $3,000 to you?

Jungkook was almost sure he had accidentally fallen asleep before he even opened his computer. Pinching himself a few times proved for this to be actually real.

babystarcandy - thank you so much. you have no idea how much this means to me.

babystarcandy - there has to be some way i can repay you.

Was he propositioning himself to you?

Not even Jungkook was sure. He had no idea what he was offering to you, but it was the middle of the night and he was extremely grateful. He couldn't help himself as he typed up that message and sent it.

burner98 - oh ? what would u suggest ?

Oh, fuck. You were agreeing. Okay ... Now what? Jungkook had nothing to offer. He was an amateur cammer with nothing to his name. What could some random person on the internet with tons of disposable income possibly want from him?

babystarcandy - maybe i could give you a call to thank you ? you know, one on one ?

He mentally kicked himself as soon as he sent that message.

What the hell was he thinking, offering up a personal call to some random person online? This could be a friendless creep for all he knew. He had no identifying information about you, other than knowing you apparently had a vast disposable income. I mean, hell, your account name was burner98, you clearly did not want to leave any traceable information about you.

Before he could backtrack (not that he would actually have the balls to), the three dots on your side of the conversation popped up, followed by another message from you.

burner98 - really ??? :00 that'd be amazing omg ... are you free tomorrow ? i'll make it worth your while <3

Staring at the $3,000 sitting cozy on his bank account, he didn't even let himself think before agreeing, sending a quick message in confirmation. He had work tomorrow, but maybe calling off would be worth it considering you were hinting at even more money.

Jungkook felt dirty for some reason, despite knowing what camming truly entailed. However, he also knew that there was nothing morally wrong with what he was doing, so he pushed that shyness to the back of his mind and began drafting up some sort of goodbye message that encapsulated your plans to call tomorrow and a few more thank you's for your donations.

burner98 donated $5,000

burner98 - just a little thank u for ur kindness ;) see u tomorrow baby ~

Jungkook had to swallow the gasp that was about to leave his body. Five thousand dollars??

You'd managed to drop eight thousand dollars on him within an hour's time. This was four months of his rent. Jungkook had never had this much money lying in his bank account. Its mere presence was making him nervous.

Not only that, but the thought of talking to someone who had this much money to give without a second thought scared him shitless.

There was no way he'd sleep tonight.

In the end, Jungkook ended up sleeping a total of three hours. With his working schedule, it was common for him to catch about five hours of sleep every night, so this wasn't too out of the norm. Last night had been different, however, as he had simply been unable to sleep due to all the tossing and turning in anticipation for today.

As soon as he woke up, he checked his bank account again to make sure last night hadn't been some sort of twisted dream. Following that, he called up both of his jobs in order to call in sick. That granted him a total of two days without work (nor pay) due to the flu he had made up.

Now he sat in front of his laptop, fake sick and waiting for you to call him.

Last night, you'd agreed on calling him on Zoom at around 12PM in his timezone. Currently at 12:18PM, he sat anxiously waiting for your arrival. Sporting a simple tank top and some basketball shorts, he pondered whether he should take anything off in advance, not sure if you wanted him to give you a private show or not. You hadn't discussed the details of the call, but surely you'd want something of that nature, right? I mean, you only knew him through his streams after all.

His wait was not too prolonged, as he heard the familiar notification chime come from his computer only moments later. It was a zoom link sent by burner98.

You were here.

Angling his webcam so it'd only show below his chin on camera, he nervously clicked on the link and joined the call. It connected after just a few moments.

In front of him was a black screen with the name burner98 attached to it. You'd chosen to remain anonymous to him by keeping your camera off.

Then he heard a tiny gasp, your microphone icon lighting up along with it.

"Oh my god!! Hi!", you sounded very happy to see him, causing his skin to heat up. He wasn't used to getting any reactions on his streams, seeing as he couldn't hear his audience.

"H-hi," he stammered, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards.

"I didn't think you'd show ... Wow, you look so pretty," you said absentmindedly, almost as if entranced by him despite only being able to see his torso.

He could hear the smile in your voice. You sounded young and girlish, completely different from what he'd expected.

Truthfully, he had either expected some virgin creep around his age or maybe a lonely middle aged woman in desperate need of some action. Yet your voice sounded appealing to him. He could almost picture what you looked like. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he pictured a pretty girl on the other side of the screen. Unless you were using some sort of voice distortion. You could never be too sure nowadays.

"Uh, yeah, of course I came. Thank you again for, uh, the money," he felt awkward as he said it, not sure of how to properly convey his gratitude, but knowing he'd done a terrible job at it just now.

Luckily for him, you merely giggled at his awkwardness.

"It's not a problem!! I'm happy to help. Sorry I didn't send anything before ... I wasn't sure how you'd take it," you trailed off, "Was it okay that I sent it? I swear it's no trouble for me, but I didn't mean to intimidate you or anything. I know that can be a lot of money," you added.

"It's totally fine, hah," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally lowering his body enough for you to see his chin and lips on screen, "I'm really thankful for it, truly. You have no idea how much this helps."

"Fuck, you're so pretty ..." you whispered to yourself before responding to his statement, "I'm happy to hear that! It's awkward to say this in person, but I really do love your content. You're so underrated."

You were very confident in the way you spoke, almost completely ignoring the context of this whole conversation. In the meantime, Jungkoook felt extremely awkward and nervous, unsure of where this was going.

"Thank you so much ..." he mumbled shyly, "Uh, do you want- What would you like me to do? You know, to, uh, express my gratitude?", he cringed at his wording, hearing an almost inaudible chuckle coming from you after.

"You don't have to strip for me or anything," you giggled after a short pause, "I really just wanted to talk to you," you added shyly. He could picture you putting your hair behind your ear, "Is that odd? Sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," you added with another small laugh.

He could hear the smile in your voice at every statement. Your demeanor was just very contagious. It almost made him feel like this call was a reward of its own. It had been a while since someone spoke to him with such kindness, especially considering the grand favor you'd just done for him.

"Could I-," he started, "Could I see you? It feels a little strange being the only one with my camera on," he tried to play it off with a dry chuckle, but he knew the request was an odd one. He was the one who chose to put himself out there, not you.

"Maybe next time?", you suggested, "I'm just a little shy, sorry," for the first time, your tone matched his awkward one, making him grimace at even thinking about asking to see you in the first place.

"How old are you?", he asked before he could stop himself.

"You're very curious about me, huh?", you giggled, "I'm 23. How old are you?"

You were 23? And you already had this much money to give him without a second thought? Who were you?

"You're 23? That's- Wow, I expected older," he admitted, despite thinking your voice matched your age.

"Is it because of the money?", you asked.

"Yeah, hah, Sorry, just-"

"It's okay, baby, you can ask me whatever you want. If you're willing to answer some questions too," you added, not pushy, but more so encouraging, "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

"Oh, sorry ... I'm 24. Can I really ask questions?"

"Yeah, baby, go ahead," there was a big smile in your voice. He could tell you enjoyed when he engaged in conversation. And to be honest, he was enjoying it too.

"How come ... I mean, you're young and- and you sound like, like you're pretty. And you seem to be well off, so ... how come you're on here?", he hoped his question didn't come off as rude, or that he wasn't rushing things. He felt selfish in admitting it, but he hoped that this would not be the only time you ever donated to him.

"Aw, you think I'm pretty? But you've never seen me?", you teased.

"I mean, what I meant was-"

"It's okay, pretty. You don't have to explain," you giggled, "To answer your question ... I came across your stream on accident, and your voice was just so-", you cleared your throat, "so fucking pretty. The way you read the scripts or those times you'd just rant while you played with yourself ... Fuck. I never thought I could be so attracted to someone I'd never really met or even seen," you were getting carried away, but the shifting tone of your voice had Jungkook's interest peeked, "When you mentioned struggling financially in one of your streams, I just felt this need to take care of you ... Sorry, is that weird?", you chuckled awkwardly by the end, likely embarrassed by your ramble.

He shook his head, "N-no! I understand. I'm glad you enjoy the content. I didn't think it was good, since I don't get that many views," he lamented to himself, "Thank you for wanting to take care of me, I have been struggling lately. You're really saving my life," he exaggerated a bit, but it felt truthful at the time.

"I'll help you out even more in the future, baby. Don't worry," he could hear the pout in your voice, basically cooing at his lamentations.

"You really don't have to-", he raised his arms to convey his point, only to be interrupted by you.

"I want to! It's really no trouble for me. I have a lot more to give. Trust me," you insisted.

You stopped speaking for some seconds before humming to yourself, seemingly thinking to yourself. When you spoke up again was when the atmosphere shifted for Jungkook.

"How about we make a deal?"

It sounded ominous as you said it. Jungkook couldn't lie when he said that the question made his heart drop. You didn't seem weird or threatening thus far, but he really did not want to enter a situation in which he gave you some sort of sexual favor in exchange for money. Camming already made him shy enough. He didn't think he had it in him to do more explicit things.

"I- I don't-"

"I'll send you an allowance if you keep streaming regularly," you started, "and I'll double it if you call me again. Just to talk," you suggested, giving him some room in order to respond.

"You want me to c-call you?", he parroted.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd love to do it again," you admitted, "Please let me take care of you."

His blood stopped pumping for a moment.

The offer sounded far too good for him to refuse. Money for him to keep doing what he was already doing? And even more just to talk to you? This sounded like one of those sugar daddy situations he'd hear about on Twitter, but without the explicit bits.

Jungkook pondered over it for a few silent moments, humming to himself when he found the answer he wanted to give. He didn't have anything to lose after all.

"Okay. I'll do it," he decided, gulping nervously immediately after agreeing.

"Really?", you sounded elated as you asked, "You want to keep talking? I didn't scare you off?"

"Of course not. It's not everyday you get such a deal, you know," he shamelessly allowed himself to admit, "And you're nice to talk to."

He wasn't sure whether he was buttering you up or if he actually meant it. He'd need a few more conversations to decide.

"Great! Oh, baby, I'm so glad!," you clapped your hands excitedly, cheery in your demeanor.

"You can, uh, call me JK if you want," he added, noticing how you kept going back and forth between pet names. It just felt a bit awkward to him at the moment.

"Okay, JK. Tell me, how's your day been?"

Settling comfortably, he continued the conversation, nerves easing after a while as he attempted to match your energy. Although he still had his alerts high, he felt more at ease as the conversation evolved, with your demeanor becoming contagious to him.

You only spoke for a few hours. At some point Jungkook became so absorbed in it, he didn't realize how easy it was for him to talk to you about his goals, his time as a cammer, his day to day life, or any other mundane subject that you brought up. He kept personal details to himself (as did you), even turning off his camera at some point in order to lessen how self aware he felt. You were nice to him all throughout, showing genuine interest in him yet not a single ounce of lust or any ulterior motives.

After a while, you were the one to finally bid your goodbyes, claiming you had things to take care of and couldn't stay longer. With the agreement to call you a few times per week, you coo'd and pouted at having to hang up, making Jungkook feel a slight ting of disappointment at the conversation ending.

Within a few weeks, Jungkook's life changed drastically.

His streams and your calls continued swiftly, amassing to a total of two of each per week. Usually, he'd call you for about an hour or so before coming on stream for another hour.

On those days he'd garner about $3,000 from you. Jungkook felt quite rich at the moment.

Against his better judgment, he quit his job at the gas station and lowered his hours as a grocery store clerk. He had a high amount of savings now, thanks to you, so he didn't see the point in remaining miserable in not one, but two jobs. Despite keeping one of his jobs as a fall-back plan, he still had tons of free time at his will due to the streams of money coming his way — with all of it being your money.

A few calls in, he found out a bit more about you, which answered many of his questions. However, your meek promise of letting him see you had been untrue, as he still had no idea what you looked like nor did he know your name. Granted, you also didn't know those things about him, but you'd seen him jerk off on screen, so you still had an advantage over him.

Among the things he found out about you was the source of your vast income. Apparently, you were the daughter of a CEO. Jungkook was not granted the specifics, but you'd told him that your father was the owner of a few multimillion dollar companies, which was how you attained your seemingly endless stream of income. Your father would routinely send you about ten times the amount you gave Jungkook weekly, which left him dizzy at attempting to do the math.

Along with this bit of lore about you, Jungkook was also shocked to find out you lived in the same area as him. While Jungkook lived in a rundown part of LA, you were living comfortably in a wealthier, high end area. This knowledge had also shocked you, even causing you to bring up a cheeky suggestion of meeting him in person, but it was merely brought up as a passing comment and never discussed again.

Currently, he found himself in his same apartment, not feeling secure enough in this agreement to move onto a nicer area. As naive as it may have sounded, Jungkook did trust your word when you said you were interested in taking care or him financially, however, he knew that realistically he could not count on your money forever. You didn't know each other personally, and his streaming career would not last forever (especially considering that his views were only in the 500s at the time). He opted to save most of the money you kept him, likely to use some of it to pay off college and some for safekeeping. As of now, however, his lifestyle remained pretty much the same.

Much like every other Thursday, today Jungkook was preparing himself to start another stream in a couple of hours. On most streaming days, he'd call you to talk and simply hang out before starting a stream. Today, however, he had received a message from you before he could log in to contact you.

burner98 - hey jk !! i cant talk right now ㅠㅠ would it be okay if u call me after ur stream ?? i'll still be able to tune in !!

Jungkook didn't think too much of it, simply replying in agreement and moving onto something else to fill up the time. He prepared for his stream as per usual, opting to ramble as he jerked off for the duration of this stream, not having a script or prompt to roleplay this time around.

Setting up his usual equipment, he reached over to his pc to angle it correctly, only showing below his lips in order to protect his anonymity. With a deep breath, he uncovered his webcam and turned on the stream, immediately taking note of about 60 people entering all at once.

"Hey guys," he chuckled breathily, "It's me again, Babystarcandy. Welcome back to my subscribers and welcome in to anyone who might be new," he began, "Today is gonna be a more casual stream if that's okay? I'll be, uh, edging and rambling for a while. Maybe not too much rambling, since you know how into it I get," he trailed off.

One of his key features as a cammer was his usual commitment to being a sub. He'd often get praise about how 'pathetic' and 'subby' he could be. Most of his donations occurred on his subbier streams, when he'd roleplay some subby role or when he'd jerk off, torturing himself into a pathetic mess. In reality, this was Jungkook's natural state when it came to sex. He had always taken a more submissive and sensitive role when it came to his personal relationships. Sadly, though, he had not gotten any action outside of camming in a few months due to his hectic work schedule.

Quickly squirting some lotion on his hand, Jungkook began to work himself, slow in his movements as to prolong the experience. He wanted this to last a good twenty minutes or so.

"H-how are you guys?", he asked, glad to see there were about 200 people in now.

A few commenters popped up — the usual loyal commenters who'd encourage him throughout, expressing their arousal at the sight of him.

"S-hit," he muttered when his hand went up to his tip, squeezing tortuously, "My tattoos? You like them? I'm glad ... What? They make me look intimidating? I'm quite the opposite, purplelover65," he chuckled between breathy moans as he read off comments.

"How many times should I edge myself tonight?", he wondered out loud, "Won't cum til you tell me to," he whimpered, slowing down his movements even more, hand tight around his cock.

He read a few more comments, thanking two donors who'd given $10 each and fulfilling any requests to plea or whimper for more. This continued as it usually did up until the first time he robbed himself of an orgasm, which was when he spotted a commenter in particular.

It was you.

Ever since he began talking to you, you never really commented anymore, simply making your attendance known by being connected in the stream. Despite your calls, you'd never speak about what he did on his streams, always talking as if you were friends (friends who knew no personal information about each other but alas). Tonight, however, you decided to catch him off guard by commenting.

burner98 - god, ur so pretty ... bet you'd like someone playing with that pretty cock right ? marking you up and toying at u til ur crying

You'd never once been this explicit towards him, even before ever speaking to him. You'd expressed liking his content, but never had praised him like this. He pictured the words coming out of your mouth, with your voice, and shuddered. There was something about being wanted so badly by someone — enough for you to take care of him financially without asking for anything in return — that made him reel. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he'd been craving some praise from you all these weeks. In his mind, you were a faceless entity, but you were still a rich girl around his age, and that was enough for his brain to work with.

"Y-yes, burner98, want you to t-touch me til I'm crying ... Fuck, need to be touched so badly," he whined, already on the high of his second attempt at an orgasm approaching, knowing he'd end up denying himself again.

A few other commenters encouraged him with similar words, making him jerk off faster, slowly approaching his high.

burner98 - ur so filthy, fuck. are u gonna edge urself again, pretty ? wanna see u do it til u make a pretty mess all over ur sheets

Your comments were the ones he wanted to see the most. He felt an instinctive need to obey you. It felt like he was finally giving you something in return. It also felt right to him for some reason, like his body was aching to fulfill your every wish.

"Mhm, just- just wanna cum so bad," he cried, hand reaching out to play with his balls, "I'm so close ... Can I cum? I know I said I wouldn't yet, but it's so good ... It's right there, baby, please ..." he pleaded, eyes drowsy.

burner98 - nooo baby u have to wait. want u to cry, remember ? do not cum.

Huffing, he slowed down, diminishing the intensity of the feeling. Pouting, he groaned as he felt his orgasm leave him, disappearing just as the previous one had.

"Okay," he whimpered, "I stopped ... Can I touch myself again?", he asked his viewers, "My nipples? Want me to play with them, magicshop43? A-anything for you," he moaned, fingers coming up to his hardened nipples and toying with them. He sighed at the stimulation, always extra sensitive in that area, but also due to how badly he was craving that orgasm now.

His hand went back down to his cock, working it again, "What would you do if you were here with me right now?", he asked as if he were directing himself to a single person rather than the 435 viewers currently watching.

He skimmed through the comments, humming and acknowledging all the dirty thoughts his viewers were sharing. As he played with himself, he waited for you to respond. With a groan, he finally spotted your comment, gulping when he processed the contents of it.

burner98 - id love to have u all to myself. edge u until u cry or maybe make u cum so many times u have to beg me to stop ... id mark up every inch of ur body while i run my thumb on ur tip without any more stimulation. you'd look so pretty begging me for more until i finally sit on ur cock and steal my orgasm from you without giving u anything in return. id drag this on for hours until u cant take it anymore

burner98 - is that too much ? sorry just want u so fucking bad

Without realizing it, his hand sped up as he read your comment, mind now zeroed in on you, putting all other commenters in the back burner. By the time he managed to respond, he was already a whimpering mess, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth to prevent the pathetic sounds from slipping out.

"It's not too much, b-burner98 ... Want that, fuck ... Need someone to take care of me so badly ...", he breathed out, "C-can I cum now? Please? Wanna cum- Need to cum," he pleaded, sighing at the chorus of comments giving him the green light to let go.

"Thank you thank you thank you," he rambled quietly, letting his cock make a mess all over his abs and sheets with the cum squirting out.

He sat there with a heavy breath for a few moments as he attempted to regain his composure, surprised at how sensitive he'd gotten this time around. He wanted to blame you in specific, but doing so would mean admitting to himself that you'd had an effect on him, and he did not want to open that can of worms yet.

"Thank you guys for joining me today, hah," he chuckled, "I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me. I'll see you next time, my loves," he made a kissy noise at the camera before closing the tab, sighing once it was all done.

Now he had to wait for your call, still slightly horny but also anxious about talking to you after having practically had phone sex with you — with an unknowing audience. He gave himself a few minutes to calm down, only then getting up to wash his hands and get a rag to clean up with. By the time he was finished, that familiar chime arrived, informing him of a message from you.

burner98 - im calling u now. is that okay ?

Clearing his throat, Jungkook sounded out his voice to make sure he'd rid himself of any of that high pitched, whinny tone he would develop when he was horny. With one last sip of water, he responded and soon after began the call.

"H-hey," he muttered, feeling shy after today's events, unknowing of what was to come.

"Hi ..." you sounded similarly awkward, "I'm sorry if I caught you off guard today," you started, "I just needed to unwind ... I promise I'm not expecting anything from you. This is just a regular call."

"I- it's okay, really. Don't worry about it," he reassured, "It was nice to, uh, have someone talk me through it. It makes it easier; more, uh, fun, I guess," he was awkward in admitting.

He immediately regretted his words at your sudden silence. Did you think he was lying? Or maybe the thought of him enjoying it freaked you out. You had never showed explicit interest in him in such a way, so maybe this was too forward of him.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"JK," you interrupted.

He gulped, "Yes?"

"Would you like to meet someday?", you began, tone serious, "I know we live in the same area, and ... I've really enjoyed our time getting to know each other. I'd just really love to meet you."

Jungkook remained silent, shock taking over his entire person.

You must've interpreted his silence as rejection, opting to continue speaking.

"I wouldn't expect anything from you if we met, if that's what you're thinking!," you quickly reassured, "I'm not looking for that. I just ... I love being able to help you out and I'd love a chance to see you in person."

"You ... You want to meet?"

"Yes. You don't have to say yes, just-"

"Where would we meet?", he asked, truly considering it.

"My house? Maybe?," you suggested, "Again, you don't have to say yes. I understand this is strange. I won't get angry if-"

"Yes. I'll go," he found himself responding before he could think any further.

"Really?", you asked with an astonished tone of voice.

"Y-yeah, just send me your address and the time and I'll be there," he rushed out, "Uh, well I have to go now. I'll see you soon, okay? Bye!", he practically zoomed, shutting his computer closed before you could say anything in return.

Jungkook knew how stupid it was of him to want to meet some anonymous person be met on a camming website in person was. But he felt an immense debt towards you. This really was the very least he could do.

He also felt far too much curiosity about your person to pass up the opportunity to meet you. You'd kept even the most basic information about yourself a mystery. Some part of him needed to meet you to find out who the person he'd been talking to all this time was.

Lastly, as embarrassed and confused as he was to admit it, tonight's events had left him a bit ... affected. Interacting with you as he put himself in the most vulnerable of positions, playing with himself for your (and many others') viewing pleasure just left him insanely aroused. It awoke an itch he now needed to scratch.

So, when he woke up the next morning to details about your meeting, he was nervous yet determined to finally meet you.

Anxiety and cold sweats were all that Jungkook knew any time he was nervous. Staring up at his blank ceiling as he attempted to sleep was the only thing he could do on the night prior to your meeting.

The day had come sooner than anticipated, happening only two days after the day of the stream in which you'd made Jungkook lose his sanity. After that, he began to feel a mixture or excitement and bone-rattling anxiety at the prospect of meeting you.

He already had a great thing going on with all the allowance money you'd given him, meeting you would merely risk that. What if you were some weirdo who had been manipulating him this whole time, hoping to eventually get him alone to extort him with all the money you'd given him? Risking such a high stream of income made him feel terrified, even if it was money he was never expecting in the first place.

And that wasn't even the worst case scenario.

There were tons of terrifying scenarios playing in Jungkook's head. Someone with as much money as you did could easily cause some damage to him if he were to reject any advances you made towards him. Meeting you could possibly turn dangerous for Jungkook.

At the same time, naive and immature ideas popped up in Jungkook's head.

There was a chance you truly were the bubbly girl who had taken an interest in his financial wellbeing. Maybe you truly were someone who had somehow become infatuated with him in an innocent way and had no ulterior motives in mind. You had never crossed any lines with him nor had you even brought up the possibility of a sexual encounter between you. Maybe he'd meet you and end up forming a genuine friendship with you.

Whether it was dumb of him or not, Jungkook decided to continue with the plan to meet you, showing up at the penthouse the address you'd given him led to. His life had already been miserable before you turned in upside down, how much of a risk could this be?

With an accelerated heartbeat, Jungkook pressed the button to your intercom, becoming alert when he heart a voice respond through the machine.

"This is a private residence. Who is this?", responded a male voice in a tone devoid of any emotion.

"Oh, uh, this is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook," he stammered.

Fuck, he had never given you his real name. How were you to know this was him? Was this even your address? Maybe this was your husband? What if-

"Oh, you must be JK," responded the voice, more casually this time, "You're here to meet Y/N, right? You're a bit early. I'll let you in in just a moment," trailed off the voice, turning off the intercom before Jungkook could respond.

"Y/N," he mumbled to himself.

That must've been your name. He liked it. It rolled off his tongue nicely.

In just a few moments, the door opened, revealing a handsome man in a suit, seemingly around his own age. With a nod, he gestured at Jungkook to come in, which Jungkook obeyed immediately.

"Hello, I'm Taehyung. I'm Y/N's personal assistant/butler," he introduced himself with a friendly handshake, "Wow, you're even more handsome than she described," he marbled, staring at Jungkook shamelessly.

This guy seemed weird, but nothing appeared threatening thus far.

"Oh, I- Thank you," Jungkook chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I let her know you're here. Just take those stairs and head left and you'll be in one of the living rooms. She'll come out when she's finished getting ready," instructed Taehyung as he pointed in the direction Jungkook was meant to go find you.

Hesitantly, Jungkook made his way to you, heart beating faster by the minute. When he reached the living room Taehyung had directed him to, he found himself standing by a fancy door, one which he assumed led to your room. Before he could ponder as to whether to knock or not, the door suddenly opened, revealing a girl.

There weren't enough words in Jungkook's vocabulary to describe how he felt at seeing you for the first time. His imagination had been liberal in picturing how you may look once you actually met, yet it had never quite come close to the reality.

Before him stood the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Your skin was perfect, somehow radiant and supple. He could tell it'd be soft to the touch — especially the soft skin of your legs that was exposed by the dress you were wearing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, taking on a soft look that had him wondering what it'd feel like if it graced his skin. Your body was something Jungkook did not want to get into in favor of his sanity, but his brain could not help itself. Your body was formed by the perfect combination of curves and wedges, making up a silhouette he ached to trace. Your eyes were the final blow to it all, wide with wonder as they stared back at him. The beautiful color had him hypnotized.

Jungkook would've truly had his fill of you, devouring you with his eyes for hours if you hadn't snapped him out of it.

"Oh, my God, JK!", you practically squealed, hands going up to cover your mouth in excitement.

"Burner98? I- Hi, You're-"

"You can call me Y/N," you smiled widely at him, offering him a handshake. Everything you did radiated the happiness you clearly felt at meeting him. It somehow had him feeling both reassured and nervous.

"Oh, I- that's a pretty name," he mumbled, gulping at the contact of your hand, "My real name's Jungkook," he revealed.

"I'm so happy to meet you, Jungkook," you expressed, "You're even prettier than I imagined," you were quite straightforward in your thinking.

Sadly he was not the same, still too entranced by you to muster any coherent words.

"You're pretty," he hid behind a cough, too embarrassed to say it outright.

He was aware he was acting like a loser, but could he be blamed? He was currently in the luxury penthouse of his gorgeous sugar mommy (for lack of a better term). His mind would not stop spinning.

You simply giggled at his shy demeanor, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch, coming to sit side by side whilst Taehyung suddenly walked by with drinks, setting them down as he offered you both a cheeky smile.

"Thank you, Taetae," you waved him off before turning back to Jungkook.

"So, how are you feeling? Did coming here make you nervous? I was thinking it might," you started, taking a sip from your drink.

"Maybe a little," he downplayed, "I just didn't know what to expect," he mumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just thought that talking in person might be easier, you know? I never really planned this," you laughed to yourself, "I had no idea you lived so close, but it felt like a missed opportunity to not meet when we lived so close together."

He hummed in agreement, continuing to engage in his shy demeanor despite wanting so badly to show you how elated he was to be with you in this moment.

"I thought maybe you'd have questions? I promise to be an open book from now on," you cutely reached out for his pinky, giggling when he intertwined his own with yours with a smile.

"I guess maybe I was just curious about ... why me? I still can't wrap my head around why anyone would want to help me like this without me, uh, doing anything in return," his eyes left yours as confidence in his question left his own.

You cleared your throat before responding, "Hah, it's kind of embarrassing to say, but, I was in kind of a rut?", you started, "Nothing worked, and then I came across you. Your voice was what got to me first, then it was a mixture of everything. I didn't even plan on continuing to watch as consistently as I did, but I found myself coming back for more every week. Then your personality caught my attention. So when you mentioned your financial issues in one of your streams I couldn't help myself. I was already infatuated by you by then," you admitted, a warmth invading your cheeks.

Similarly, Jungkook blushed, "Oh, I helped you ...?"

"Yes, but we don't need to talk about those things," you cleared your throat, "I don't expect anything like that from you, Jungkook. I just want to help you out. I know it might seem like an odd arrangement, but this is enough for me," you reassured.

As hypocritical as it sounded, Jungkook was slightly disappointed by your words. Within mere minutes of knowing you, he already knew how attracted to you he was. Despite your words, he could not follow along with you and ignore the context of the situation. You found him attractive, he knew that much, and you'd just implied that your attraction to him had made you cum at some point. How was he supposed to ignore that when you were so otherworldly beautiful, sitting right next to him?

But unfortunately for Jungkook, he was too timid to express his desire for you. He was both too introverted and embarrassed to offer himself up like that.

"It's ... I'm glad I've been able to help you," he muttered, "I really appreciate all you've done for me. Don't feel like you have to keep doing it, I understand if-"

You scoot closer to him before interrupting him, "Shh, I want to keep doing it," you shushed him, "but I was hoping we could maybe alter our deal a bit?", you asked, causing Jungkook's breath to hitch.

"H-how so?"

Please say you want him, fuck. He'll drop to his knees right this second if you so much as suggest it.

"I was thinking maybe you could come over a few times a week instead of calling? It'd be way more fun to hang out than just call, don't you think?", you suggested, smiling innocently at him.

Fuck.

"Oh, I- I'd love to, but it takes me about an hour to get here and I don't have a car, so," he said, feeling an odd sense of disappointment in himself at denying you of anything.

"You don't have a car? You should've told me, Jungkookie!," you pouted at him, "Taehyung!", you suddenly called out into the other room.

Within moments, Taehyung entered the room, ready for whatever you had for him.

"Yes?", he asked.

"Tell Joon he'll be driving Jungkook from now on," you turned to Jungkook for a moment, "Joon is one of my drivers. You'll like him," you then turned back to an expectant Taehyung, "I'll give him all the info necessary later today, okay?," you finished, excusing him with a nod of your head.

"Sure thing, Y/Nie," he smiled at you before walking away.

"You really don't have to-"

"No, it's fine! You can call him whenever you need him. He lives in the building too. All my employees live here," you reassured, "You could too if you wanted to, you know, my dad owns the building," you said as if it were nothing.

"W-what?"

You gave him another smile at his shocked expression, hand landing on his own, "Let me take care of you, Jungkook," you said, not as a request nor demand, but something in between.

As your thumb caressed the back of his hand, your eyes on his own, he found himself numbly agreeing, willing to let himself be taken care of without question.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, sharing a few drinks and truly getting to know each other. Whenever Jungkook actually let his guard down and ignored his attraction to you, putting aside the way in which you'd met and your entire dynamic, he found himself really enjoying your company. The two of you were easily compatible, getting along as if you'd been friends for years. Occasionally Taehyung joined in, which gave Jungkook the impression that you were good friends with your employees, whom you treated as equals rather than subordinates.

At some point, Jungkook went home, getting a ride from who was now his new driver, Namjoon. This was yet another person you seemed to be friendly with, which only put Jungkook even more at ease.

He was now willing to follow along with anything you wanted for him. Maybe it was dumb or naive, but meeting you had been enough to instill this blind trust in you. It also didn't help that Jungkook was now undeniably infatuated with you.

Only three weeks later and Jungkook found himself moved and settled into a smaller penthouse located in your farher's building. It had been quite fast, really. A group of movers showed up at his house one week after your initial meeting and did all the work for him. He had been unable to stream that week at all, — earning a few pouty emojis from you in text messages — but he no longer had to pay rent, as you allowed him to occupy the vacant penthouse free of charge, so there was not any loss of money.

Within this time, Jungkook found himself hanging out with you almost daily. He had now known you for a few months and had become intensely attached to you. His feelings for you had grown as he got to know you, and his attraction became almost unbearable. However, he had to hold on, as you still hadn't shown anything further than platonic interest in him.

On the days he streamed, however, you had continued to comment just as you had that one day, egging him on and saying filth he ached to hear from your lips. But any time he saw you after those streams, you'd never bring it up, acting as if you hadn't been lusting after him mere hours ago. In fact, you never mentioned his streaming career anymore, despite actively keeping up with it. It confused him endlessly.

On the day of a particularly racy stream, he visited you again, still somewhat affected by the comments you had left as be whimpered his way to completion.

As he usually did nowadays, he let himself into your penthouse without any warning, making his way to your kitchen, which was where Taehyung had informed him you were currently in. Once he was there, he spotted you as you bent over to take some cookies out of the oven. Your tiny lounge shorts were riding up, a sight that would cause a man even as shy as Jungkook to lose his mind. But he prevailed, simply clearing his throat to announce his presence from the kitchen door.

"Oh, hi Kook!", you chirped, quickly turning to give him a smile before going back to tend to your cookies.

He walked towards you, closing the distance and reaching around you to sneakily grab a cookie, only for you to swat his hand away.

"They're hot, silly!", you scolded, using a gloved hand to pick one up and mouth feed him after having blown on it for precaution.

He took a bite, humming in satisfaction, "Amazing."

"Right?", you giggled, beginning to take off your apron and mittens, not at all minding the non existent distance between you both.

You were absentmided, clearly not paying attention to Jungkook or what was running through his mind. His brain was still on the stream and all the filthy words you'd said only a few hours ago, body still buzzing with lust, which was how he found himself acting without thinking.

Without much warning, he braved it, hand coming to your chin and lifting your face to his own, closing the gap with a soft sigh against your lips.

He pecked at you innocently, landing a more languid kiss on your lips after a few seconds. You kissed back one or two times before suddenly squeaking against him, hands coming to his chest to push him away in shock.

"Jungkook, wait," you murmured, "Stop," you turned your head to the side to avoid his lips.

He pulled away apprehensively, mortified at your rejection, "I- I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I ... I don't want to sleep with you, Jungkook. It's not like that," you avoided his eyes, looking down rather than at him.

His face burned and his heart broke. He was beyond embarrassed at having done such a thing and receiving rejection in return. It had taken an insane amount of balls for him to do so, only for him to fuck things up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll-"

"Jungkook, it's fine. Don't worry about it," you tried to alleviate things to no avail.

"I- I gotta go. I'll see you later," were his last words before running out of your penthouse, embarrassed at how badly he felt he'd fucked things up.

He made it to his own penthouse without once looking back, feeling nothing but mortification at the situation he'd put himself in.

Did you really hold no interest in him? You'd said he was the only person who managed to get you off, that you loved his voice and his videos. You'd commented all the filthy things you wanted to do to him in his streams. You were currently letting him live in a luxury penthouse for free and paying him upwards of $3,000 dollars per week just so he could keep doing his streams. Where had he read things wrong?

On top of it all, he still wanted you so badly. That mere kiss had reignited all the arousal he had felt prior to coming over to your place tonight.

You had kissed back for a few moments, and that was enough for Jungkook's pathetic self to reach into his pants and grab onto his hard cock as soon as he made it back to his bed. He tortured himself with thoughts of you, picturing what you'd look like under those shorts.

Thinking back to the sight of you bent over, he got on his knees, grabbing onto a pillow and positioning it in front of him as he humped into it, hand still playing with his cock. The sight must've been pathetic, but he just felt so needy for you. That single sigh you'd released against his lips was more than enough to feed into his wicked imagination, making his eyes roll back at the image he'd conjured in his head.

He found his end like this, pathetic and alone in a room that belonged to you. When it was all said and done, he went to sleep with a lump in his throat, not knowing how he'd face you again after tonight.

You made various attempts at contacting him throughout the following week, only to receive no answer.

Jungkook didn't leave the penthouse nor did he do any streams for those seven days. He felt as if he'd been broken up with, and felt extremely terrified as to what this meant for his future. He had already let go of his lease at his previous apartment and had quit both his jobs. There was nothing to his name anymore other than the money you'd given him that he'd saved up. What was he supposed to do now?

Another worry of his was how you may be feeling at the moment. You considered him a friend at the very least, so disappearing on you like that made him feel like a terrible person. Ungrateful was what he was.

On the eighth day of icing you out was when he finally grew the balls to go see you again. Without warning, much like before, he went into your place, finding you at your balcony, back facing him like last time.

You must've sensed his presence, turning around and widening your eyes when you saw him.

"Jungkook-"

"Can we ... Can we pretend that never happened?", he asked apprehensively, knowing it was a fruitless solution but asking anyways.

You looked conflicted at his suggestion, taking a moment to think it over before making eye contact with him again, "Okay," you gave him a tight smile, "We'll pretend it never happened."

You said it with such a decisive tone that Jungkook almost didn't catch the pained look in your eyes. But as he had suggested, he pretended not to notice, opting to bring things back to the way they were before.

~

It only took a few weeks for Jungkook's mind to become rotten again.

It seemed to be easier for you than for him to act as if things never happened. Other than some awkwardness that first night, you acted completely normal afterwards. You treated him as friendly as you had before, even being touchier now. The only thing that had changed was that you didn't tune into his streams anymore. This pained him, as it fully confirmed your lack of romantic or sexual interest in him, but he tried to cope with it.

Except he couldn't do that for too long. Within those weeks, his resolve continued to break as his mind and body ached for him to beg you for just one chance. He wouldn't run this time. If this ruined everything, then so be it. He couldn't live like this anymore.

It was one random afternoon in which he headed to your place unannounced as per usual, making his way to your room, where Taehyung had informed him you were currently at.

You were in your walk-in closet, reorganizing some things, it seemed, when you acknowledged his presence with a quick hi.

Against his better judgment, he interrupted you, turning you around and making you face him, hands holding onto your own. With a concerned look in your eye, you stared back at him with curiosity, verbalizing your concern before he began speaking.

The lump in his throat was already there, and the frustration in his voice as evident as he spoke.

"I dont- I don't understand. Why don't you want me? I thought all this time that- that you may have liked me," he began, already exasperated, "I- I want you so badly ... I can't think of anything else. You're all I think about," he slowly leaned down into your neck at every word spoken, hands tightening around your own, "Please ... Give me one chance ... I- I don't care about the money," he braved a trace of his lips against your neck, pressing a few hot kisses when you didn't push him away, "I'll give it all back, I don't care, just- just please ... I need to have you. Let me have you just this once," he practically whimpered between kisses to your skin, sighing when your hands squeezed his own.

Without responding, you nosed his cheek, nudging him to face you. Your eyes were on his lips and your breath heavy, your breasts rising along with every breath. Your lips found his own with a heavy kiss, invading all his senses immediately.

"Okay, Kookie, you- you can have me ... I'll- I'll let you ..." you couldn't continue due to his needy tongue slipping into your mouth, body pushing your own against your closet wall and hands wrapping around your waist.

He lost control of himself early on, hands feeling at every inch of your body with an untamed desperation. Hands squeezed at every curve as he attempted to mold you against his own body. His breathy sighs landed in your lips, groaning any time you'd moan in return.

"T-thank you. Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," he rambled on into your lips, only interrupted when your hand went to the back of his head and forcefully pulled him closer.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sensual as they left love bites in their wake. He made it all the way to your chest, managing to nose your tank top out of the way and reveal a bare breast. With a groan, his lips wrapped around your nipple, licking and tugging at it in desperation.

"Kookie ..." you breathed out, "Take me to bed ..."

He needed no further instruction, walking you back messily, as he refused to disconnect his hands or lips from your body. When you landed on the bed, he hovered over you, kissing at every bare inch available to him, drinking in every sigh you let out.

Once he made his way to your thighs, he sucked at the supple skin, breathing in the natural scent of your body. Above him, you dug your nails into his hair, encouraging every kiss without needing so much as a word. Jungkook was reeling at the mere opportunity to have you. He was on a high he'd never experienced before.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he mumbled into your skin, "Smell so good, fuck," he murmured to himself when his lips made their way closer to your center, frustrated at the cloth preventing him from rubbing his nose against the source of the heavenly scent.

His hands went to your shorts, silently aiding you in removing them as you lifted your hips to make it easier for him. All at once, your panties came off with them, leaving a small trail of slick behind. You threw off your shirt in the meantime. Jungkook's mind was already muddled with arousal, and the sight only made it worse. A groan was the last thing to leave his lips before they became occupied by your cunt, continuing to let out muffler sounds of desire against your cunt.

"K-kookie!", you cried out, "So good, fuck. Good fucking boy ..." you moaned whilst pushing his head further into you.

And he adored it. He needed you to use him shamelessly. He needed your cries and whimpers to imbed into his mind until they were the only thing he remembered. Your taste had already ruined him and your sounds were on their way to bury him even further.

He was a pathetic mess between your legs, crying out as it he were the one receiving the pleasure. Every lick and taste went straight to his cock, rendering him the most pussydrunk he'd ever been.

"It's so good ... Pussy's so fucking good," he whimpered, tongue going back and forth between torturing your clit and toying with your folds up until his tongue became stagnant in licking your arousal out of you, nose perfectly rubbing against your clit.

This caused you to begin canting your hips into his mouth, basically using his face as a glorified toy meant for your unadulterated pleasure. Shamelessly, you used him, letting out whiny cries of his name whilst every single noise went straight to his cock. He attempted to mumble im encouragement against your cunt, but he was far too gone. His eyes were rolled back and his brain a muddled mess.

With all his willpower, he managed to aim his eyes at you, encountering a sight he had only ever dreamed about before. Your eyes were rolled back, mindless and blissed out. Your mouth was agape, occasionally letting out the prettiest sounds known to man. Your hand was toying with your breasts, making Jungkook green with envy that he couldn't entertain every inch of your body all at once.

"'m gonna cum, Jungkook ... Need you to make me cum, f-fuck," you whimpered, hiccuping gasps in between.

He almost felt his own orgasm gnawing at him at that moment, but he needed to hold on. He'd be damned if he didn't feel you wrapped around him before losing himself.

"Cum, p-please ... Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Feel so good against my tongue ... Prettiest cunt, oh fuck," he rambled into your lips, aching for the moment you came.

"K-kookie! Y-yes, yes, just like that," you cried, nails digging into his scalp whilst your end took over, hips grinding harshly against his face.

Drenched in you, Jungkook licked wantonly at you, losing himself in your cunt as he rambled praise at you. The experience was otherworldly to him, making him black out in the immense lust your own pleasure was causing him.

He whimpered and nosed at your pussy, allowing a depraved part of himself to take over. He was on cloud nine at having you melt under him, having to will his hips into staying still as to not accidentally let himself go before he got to have you.

"Hmng, Kookie- Too- too much," you whimpered when his lips wouldn't leave you even after your orgasm had subsided. At some point you had to harshly pull at his hair, getting a depraved moan from him in return before he actually separated himself from you.

Before you could verbalize any praise for him, he made his way back up your body, invading your mouth in a wet mess of a kiss. He pushed your own taste into your mouth, swallowing your groan when you sucked into his tongue needily. His hands finally found the opportunity to feel up your body, hands grabbing at your tits and humming into your mouth at how delicious you felt against him.

"So fucking perfect," he mumbled, "God, fucking girl of my dreams ... Need you so bad- always needed you," he murmured absentmindedly as he got his fill of you.

With a mind of their own, his hips rutted into your own, giving him the friction he'd been craving since the moment you kissed. He would've been content with just the feeling of his clothed cock dragging against your bare pussy, had you not suddenly interrupted him with a whine.

"Kookie, please ... Fuck me. Been wanting you for months," you whined in between kisses.

"Fuck ... Want me? Do you really want me, gorgeous? Tell me," he begged, hips losing control.

"Wanted you since I first saw you, Kookie ... Didn't want to take advantage," you cried when his bulge angled perfectly against the most sensitive part of your cunt, nails digging into his biceps.

"Take advantage! I'll give you anything you want," his kisses went down to your tits, moaning into your skin.

He brought himself almost to completion as he kissed at your body, hips seeking their high from the mere friction, but he robbed himself of his orgasm before he could finish. With mewls in complaint from you, he separated himself from you to unclothe, making his way back to you immediately, almost as if he'd burn if he wasn't pressed up against you.

"'m gonna fuck you so good ... Shit, can't think, just want you wrapped around me so badly," he whimpered as he dragged his tip up and down your cunt, hiccuping whines of need.

"Fuck me, God, Kookie, please," you pleaded in a needy tone Jungkook had never heard from you.

"Anything you want ..." he mumbled as he positioned himself against you, losing all ability to speak when he finally entered you.

As much as Jungkook wanted to verbalize how otherworldly you felt around him, his words left him. He was reduced to a mess of gasps and needy hiccups of your name. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes at how badly he'd needed you all this time, finally fulfilling the desire that had been bugging at him since he met you.

Your walls suffocated him, causing his eyes to roll back at the immense pleasure you were giving him. Nothing his imagination had conjured about you could possibly parallel how good you felt.

"Pussy's so warm for me, fuck ... L-love this pussy," he managed to groan into the skin of your neck. His nonsensical praise was followed by even more senseless words, waxing poetic as he fucked into you.

"Prettiest pussy ... Wanted it all this time, craved it so badly ..."

"Thought about you every time I touched myself ... Needed this cunt wrapped around me."

"How is it so warm? Fuck, it's so warm n tight n all for me, huh? My pussy ..."

"Got so fucking sad when you rejected me ... W-wanted you to watch my streams ... They were all for you, f-fuck. Thought of you only."

You tightened particularly harsh after that last comment, finally responding with a shuddered breath of your own.

"I- I kept watching. I was so embarrassed, I used another burner," you revealed between gasps, "Touched myself hoping you'd come b-back and fuck me ..."

This knowledge made him lose his mind — the little of it he still had left. His eyes rolled back and his hips lost their composure. Strong arms lifted your legs further up his frame, with Jungkook now pistoning into you with an intensity that had both of you wailing. No more words could be exchanged when you were so lost in pleasure.

The thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — simply holding back due to not wanting to put any pressure on him or scare him off — made any last sense of sanity leave him. His cock hammered against your cunt as if he hated you, seeking his high whilst his hand snuck down to toy at your puffy clit.

He knew you were sensitive from your previous orgasm, groaning deep within his chest when his suspicions about your incoming high were confirmed by the sudden tightness of your cunt. This was how his own orgasm found him, dragging him down right with you.

His lips found yours, muffling any cries of pleasure by shoving his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every noise that attempted to leave your lips.

Even through the sensitivity of your subsiding orgasms, his hips did not halt, making him whine at how painfully good it all felt. If it hadn't been for your whines in protest, he would've continued until you were both crying. His body had no limit when it came to you.

Nuzzling against you, he kissed at whatever skin was available to him, humming at how soft you felt. Your hands caressed at him, pressing him onto you with a satisfied hum in return.

He relished in the silence for a while, shuffling so he could lay beside you without having to pull out. He could feel some of his cum spilling out of your cunt, causing him to scrunch up his nose. You must've noticed this, giggling at him.

"What?", he challenged, taking a teasing nibble from your skin.

"You act so shy, yet you fuck me an inch from my life," you laugh, nudging him for a kiss.

"I already embarrassed myself in front of you so many times, I needed to make a good impression," he rebutted.

"You made a good impression months ago, Jungkookie. Why do you think I spend thousands on you every month?", you teased, knowing he'd be too sheepish to come up with a comeback to that.

"Well, m-maybe you should stop paying me if we're going to be dating now," he braved, nervous despite his confident tone (and despite his cock still being buried deep in you).

"Oh? Dating? I don't recall anyone asking me out?"

He groaned, nibbling at you again and grinning at your giggle.

"Will you, Y/N, owner of my dick and heart, do me the honor of going out with me?"

You laughed again, making his cock twitch at the sudden vibration, "Hmm. Fuck me again and I'll think about it," you went to kiss him again.

It was hard to kiss you back with the smile taking over his face, but he did his best, flipping around to hover over you again, leaning down to kiss you.

"With pleasure ..."

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 742 (teaser); 2276 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"How come you don't stream anymore?", you asked whilst running your hands through your boyfriend's fluffy hair, enjoying the way he nuzzled into your chest for the utmost comfort.

"Hmm," he pondered for a bit, "I don't really need to anymore. Plus, it feels kinda wrong now that I have a girlfriend."

You hummed at that. He had a point. You were quite possessive over him ever since you became official, so it was probably for the best he didn't stream that often nowadays. However, you had to admit, you missed that period of time in which he'd do lewd acts on screen while you watched and egged him on on the chat. Those were the moments in which he was most vulnerable.

There were also a few instances after becoming official in which he'd stream while you were watching from behind the scenes, giving you the best view of the pathetic mess he'd become. However, these became scarce after some time.

"Why do you ask?", he added after a while.

Shrugging, you cuddled closer to him, "I dunno. I kinda miss watching you sometimes."

At this, he repositioned himself, twisting his neck so he could face you, "Huh?"

It was a kind of an embarrassing and maybe voyeuristic thing, but you did feel some weird enjoyment out of being able to provide for Jungkook as he jerked off to an audience back when you'd first met him. Knowing that it was you who could give him what he needed while others could only watch without having any sort of connection made you feel powerful. It made you feel like you had some sort of ownership over him. The nature of the dynamic was thrilling to you.

This was something you hadn't thoroughly explored with Jungkook yet. After becoming a couple, you had halted all the transactions to him upon his request. He claimed that he didn't want you to feel like his attraction to you had been born out of interest (something which he was able to demonstrate time and time again). Despite your constant insistence that you'd never feel that way, he insisted, though still remained living with you free of charge. He explored other fields of interest and began working a freelance job he enjoyed (with your help), shifting your dynamic into a more ordinary one.

You thoroughly agreed with any and every change he deemed necessary in order to feel more comfortable with your relationship. But despite this, you still missed the days in which you felt like Jungkook was eating at the palm of your hand — the power and control that came with it and the desperation it had driven into Jungkook up until the point of desperation in which he finally begged to have you.

"I assumed you'd be more possessive than that," he responded, "I thought you'd rather keep me to yourself."

"That's kinda true, but ... I also liked that, uh, desperation you used to show in your streams," you blushed at your own admission.

"Oh," he breathed, "W-well, I could always-"

"No, Kookie, I don't want to push you to do something you wouldn't want to do anymore," you reassured, shuffling on the couch so he'd be able to sit up and face you.

"I just mean- if there's anything you want me to do, I'll do it. You're my girlfriend, and you've already done so much for me, y'know? There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he rebutted, staring at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

You bit your lip, pondering whether or not you wanted your boyfriend to know about the sinister thoughts you'd always had about him — the thoughts of him in utter desperation as you gave him whatever it was he needed most at that moment.

But there wad something in his eyes; a look that showed you that his words were truthful. The boy wanted nothing more than to please you. He'd do anything you wanted, and that thought made you burn inside.

This was how you found yourself sitting in front of a deprived Jungkook by the end of the night, tied up and already on the verge of his third stolen orgasm of the night. As wicked as you felt, his eyes continued to tell the truth — he was enthralled by it all. As much as you loved a desperate Jungkook, it seemed as if he loved to be taken care of just as much.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[prettyg1irlstears]

i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!

but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((

first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3

softbf!rafe x sub!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.

you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.

so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.

“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”

your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.

“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”

you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.

“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”

“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.

you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.

“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.

that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”

you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.

rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.

“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.

“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”

rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”

you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.

you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.

“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”

“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”

“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”

you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”

rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”

he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”

“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”

“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”

“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.

“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”

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[moeitsu]

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Headcanons -`♡´-

This is my first time making head canons, and I wanted to keep them sweet and endearing since our boy has been through too much in his very-very long life. As someone who's read a majority of the X-Men comics, I hope you find these true to his character! Enjoy :)

(I got so carried away with this)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Logan may not say "I love you" often, but he shows it through small, constant touches—a hand on the back, a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, or simply holding hands.

Not a fan of explicit PDA, but will always touch you/stay close in public.

Tough exterior, but when it comes to his partner, he’s an overprotective softie. He’ll insist on walking them home, even if they can take care of themselves.

He can be extremely chivalrous too, always holding open the door for you.

Expresses his love through acts of service. He’ll fix things around the house without being asked, make breakfast before his partner wakes up, or leave a steaming cup of coffee on the counter with a note.

He's always leaving you little love notes if when leaves the house before you or knows he won't be home till late.

Though he pretends to hate it, Logan is a sucker for slow dancing in the kitchen at night, especially if it’s to an old blues or country song.

Any excuse to hold you close to him.

Logan values trust more than anything. Given how many times he’s been betrayed or manipulated, knowing someone trusts him, and that he can trust them in return, is what makes him feel truly loved and secure.

When sharing a bed, Logan always sleeps closest to the door—just in case someone comes through it. It’s a subconscious protective habit.

Always gets better rest with he's sleeping with his partner. The nightmares become less frequent when he's in their arms.

Heaven on earth is when you fall asleep on top of him. Your weight is extremely comforting.

He is incredibly careful with his strength, especially in intimate moments. He’s always conscious of not hurting his partner, and his gentleness with you is something he prides himself on.

I think it would take some convincing for him to be a rough with you. He's a dominant lover for sure, but he doesn't take pleasure in harming his partner.

Logan is an old soul and loves traditional romantic gestures—writing letters, giving flowers, and going for long walks. He may not be vocal about it, but his sincerity shines through.

Actually writes really beautiful poetry but NOBODY will ever read it. The words will die with him...if he ever dies.

God, I just know he is a secret romantic. This is so canon to me.

Tends to murmur endearments in his partner’s ear when they’re alone, things like "darlin’" or "sweetheart," in a tone so low and rough it gives them goosebumps.

Heavy on whispered praises in bed, so low its like he's speaking directly into your mind.

Never, ever forgets a birthday or an anniversary. This goes for all his friends.

Logan is the person everyone goes to when they need to spill their secrets. He never judges, just listens, and gives advice when it’s needed. His friends know their secrets are safe with him.

He's secretly a huge gossip and loves to hear about the young mutants drama. He'll act annoyed but he's listening to every word.

He may not be the most social, but he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. If they’re in trouble, he’s the first to show up, no questions asked.

Incredible memory for his friends’ favorite drinks. When they meet up at a bar, he’ll have everyone’s order ready before they even sit down.

Logan knows when someone needs to talk and when they just need company. He’s the type to sit quietly beside a friend, sharing a drink or a cigar, letting them know they’re not alone.

Perfectly content with sitting in companionable silence for hours.

He’s surprisingly good at cooking, and loves to feed his friends. It’s one of the few domestic things he takes pride in, and he finds peace in the routine of it.

Never breaks a promise, no matter how small. If he says he’ll do it, whether it’s fixing something for you or showing up for a drink, he does it.

Logan brings back small souvenirs from missions for his partner, whether it's a pretty rock he found in a river bed, a flower pressed into his notebook, or a feather tucked into his jacket.

It's his way of saying "I was thinking of you while I was away"

Has a shoebox full of old polaroid's of his long-gone friends. He rarely looks at them, but keeps them to feel connected to those he's lost.

Also writes letters to his dead friends and keeps them in the box as well. It helps him process his grief.

Loves the smell and feel of old books. He can often be found in second-hand bookstores (or Xavier's library), running his fingers over the spines and flipping through the pages just to take in the scent.

Old!Logan needs reading glasses but is too stubborn to admit it. He’ll wear them when he’s alone, grumbling about how small the print is getting these days.

Has a soft spot for classic cartoons like "Looney Tunes." If he’s flipping channels and catches one, he’ll stop and watch, chuckling at the slapstick humor.

Logan is not a morning person. He’s grumpy before his first cup of coffee, and everyone knows to give him space until he’s had it.

"I CAN'T GIRLBOSS WITHOUT MY COFFEE"

He is a creature of habit, and he always orders the same meal at his favorite diners—usually steak, eggs, and a black coffee. The waitstaff know his order by heart.

Logan has a way with animals, even the ones that are usually skittish or aggressive. It’s like they sense he’s one of them, and they naturally trust him.

Modern day disney princess lookin' ass

Logan pretends to hate puns, but deep down, he finds them hilarious. If someone cracks a particularly bad one, he’ll groan, but there’s always a hint of a smile on his face.

*cough cough* I'm looking at you Wade

Ridiculously competitive at board games. Especially Monopoly and Scrabble. He’ll argue over the rules and demand a rematch if he loses.

When Logan is working on something mechanical, like fixing a motorcycle or sharpening his claws, he has a habit of whistling old tunes from the 1940s.

Guilty pleasure for musicals.

I had to put that in I'm sorry...

Has a small collection of vintage lighters from all the places he’s traveled. He likes the look and feel of a good lighter in his hand.

Keeps a collection of old dog tags from the wars he’s fought in. He doesn’t wear them but keeps them as a reminder.

Also has a small but growing collection of "World’s Best" mugs—like "World’s Best Dad," "World’s Best Boss," etc. He picks them up when traveling.

He likes the irony of it, because he would never describe himself as the "World's Best" of anything.

Logan loves the sound of old vinyl records. He has a small collection of blues, jazz, and country albums that he listens to when he wants to unwind.

Secretly believes in superstitions. Like always knocking on wood or avoiding walking under ladders. He knows it’s irrational, but after living as long as he has, he figures it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Hopeless with modern technology. He’s constantly asking for help with his phone, and he’s convinced that A.I. is out to get him.

He’s also been known to tap the screen harder when it doesn’t work, as if that will fix the problem.

Despite everything he’s been through, Logan believes in giving people a second chance. He knows what it’s like to be lost, to make mistakes, and to want to start over. He’s patient with those who are trying to better themselves and is willing to help them find their way.

Logan is a natural born leader.

And he deserves a life full of peace, love, and happiness

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!!

[myfictionaldreams]

Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.

A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare

Words:6.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.

It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.

You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.

You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.

Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.

Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.

That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.

The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.

Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.

The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.

You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.

“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.

“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.

As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.

With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.

You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.

“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.

You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.

Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.

Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely. 

You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.

An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.

Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.

The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.

Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.

“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.

You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "

“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.

“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”

“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.

Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.

“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.

“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.

Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?” 

“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty. 

A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.

Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.

You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.

“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.

“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.

Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.

“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”

Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.

“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”

“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.

“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”

“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.

Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.

“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.

You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.

He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.

The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.

Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.

“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.

The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”. 

You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion. 

“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.

Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.

“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”

“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.

“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.

Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.

Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.

The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.

Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste. 

You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.

“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.

“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.

“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.

“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.

Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.

“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.

Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”

“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.

Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.

Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.

It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.

The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.

Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.

“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.

“Ye-Yes!” you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.

“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.

This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.

“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.

“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.

You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.

However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.

“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.

Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.

You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.

As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.

“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.

“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.

Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.

“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.

“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.

“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.

“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.

“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.

“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

“What’s that,  Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”

“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.

“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "

“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.

“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.

“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.

It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.

Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.

Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war,  you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes. 

“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.

“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.

Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.

“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”

Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.

Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.

Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.

Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.

“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.

“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.

Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok.  So, this is something you’ve experienced before?”  he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.

“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.

Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.

Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.

You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.

“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.

Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.

“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.

“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.

“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "

Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.

“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.

“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.

“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.

You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.

“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”

Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.

The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.

The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,

“Can I sleep yet?”

“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.

[kimikitti]

Hi! Sorry if there’s a lore doc or something I missed but I saw your new Obi design and the overblot doodles and would love to know the lore! From my understanding, Obi can consume magic? Did he use that to tame overblots? I’m completely enamored by the idea that all these big scary monsters are just hanging out in Ramshackle. Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Co-parenting with the manifestation of your childhood trauma is always better with a smoothie.

(LOL there is no lore doc. It's just me cryptically posting about Obi and the phantoms and then bouncing. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity for me to rant about the lore I have bouncing around my brain. Also, I probably should make a tag to make all this lore stay in one place. Rant below the cut (May contain slight spoilers))

Obi and the phantoms:

To answer your first question: Yes, Obi can consume magic. In fact, he needs to consume it to survive. When he consumes magic, they taste like words and information. If he eats a spell, Obi gains an understanding of the spell's nature and effects. Repeated consumption of the same spell can lead to greater revelations. Obi is not totally conscious of this ability, as the information he gains seems to have always existed to him.

Did he use that to tame overblots?

No, the phantoms are not really beings that can be tamed. Obi devoured them during the overblot. And wakes up with a book in his clutches. Said books are how he summons the phantoms once again.

Each phantom takes on a personality and ability separate but similar to their original creator. Some phantoms are more willing than others to be cooperative.

Obi doesn't really mind much. Unwanted creations should stick together. It's better than being alone.

Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Some of them are, for some it takes more time to warm up to the idea of the phantoms. After all, its hard to be totally ok with a being born of their worse moments. I can run through some general attitudes.

Riddle: Absolutely terrified at first. But seems dedicated to "educating" his phantom. He comes around a lot. (The phantom loves this)

Leona: Comes by frequently but he does not seem to show a strong interest in his own phantom, brings meat. (The phantom also appears uninterested in its creator, but has been seen curling around leona while he's taking a nap)

Azul: Does not come by at all. (The phantom hates this, but understands)

Jamil: The phantom often seeks Jamil out frequently, seems to have a strong desire to bring gifts to its creator. It is unclear how Jamil feels about this. (Jamil is unsure about this, Kalim loves this)

Vil: The phantom hides from Vil. It is ashamed. (Vil dislikes this, but is trying to coax it out)

Idia: Ortho... sleeps most of the time. He wishes to be near his brother but is often not strong enough to be the dominant desire among them. Idia and Ortho visit frequently they love to play video games together. (Ortho loves this)

Malleus:

(I honestly love coming up with the phantoms and their respective lore so if you're interested to learn more please let me know! Thank you for the questions)

[astarion-obsessions]

I think not enough people understand that Astarion doesn't want you to be his main or only source of blood. This even stands in direct contrast to what he really wants to achieve with biting Tav. Let me explain.

Why Astarion doesn't want you to be his blood bag

Let me start with explaining how I approached this topic. First of all, when I triggered the bite scene in my playthrough, I obviously let Astarion drink from my Tav. But then I got curious. What happens when I don't stop him? He's said I could trust him just a moment ago, didn't he? So I did just that, I trusted him literally with my life. 

Aaaand... he killed me. Well. What did I expect from a vampire, really. But that he actually drained me dry broke my heart. I really wanted to trust him, to reach out and show him that I didn't judge him for what he was and so on. I was really disappointed in him and couldn't quite grasp why he would do this. Was it a conscious decision? Did he lose control? Surely he would apologise and explain everything to me once someone resurrected me, returning the trust I was giving him the night prior, right?... right?

Of course not. The dialogue after him killing Tav was... at least as disappointing as him killing Tav in the first place. He shows his usual attitude, apologises half-heartedly and then just keeps going on with talking about draining the occasional bandit. He even snaps when you mention the topic of him feeding after that with something like "I already apologised, what more do you want?".

There's no real regret, no emotions. He simply doesn't care.

We know that he didn't care in the beginning, he tells us as much when he confesses his unwanted, growing feelings towards Tav in act 2. But still the whole bite scene didn't sit right with me until…

The Nightmare 

I randomly stumbled upon a clip of Astarion having a nightmare, so I researched about it and even started an Astarion run to experience it myself. So, if you play as Astarion, at the second long rest of act 1 he has a nightmare about Cazador, in which he recites the rules that defined how Astarion and the other spawn had to live:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. 

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. 

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. 

Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine. 

However Astarion reacts to this dream, he jolts awake afterwards and instinctively panics that he needs to find a way back to his master as soon as possible. His eyes set on his companions, who are sleeping / meditating peacefully around the fire, and then a thought passes his mind.

He could try to break one of Cazador's rules right then and there. He's able to stand in the sun, to bathe in running water, so maybe…

And that's why he decides to bite a companion. Astarion wakes up utterly terrified of what his master will do to him if he doesn't return to him in an instant - and he knows all too well what kind of horrors would await him if he so much as dares to think about rebelling again (read about that here) - so he is in desperate need of confirmation that he is now able to withstand and actively break the rules that have dominated his life for two centuries.

He needs to know that he is able to drink the blood of a thinking creature. And there they are. His clueless companions served on a silver platter. It's like an invitation to him, to test his boundaries. And who would be more fitting than the good hearted leader of the party Astarion wanted to (or already has) seduce(d) anyway?

This piece of information shed a whole new light on the bite scene. But let's look a bit closer at that. 

The Bite Night 

The very first thing Tav registers about what's going on with Astarion that night is him baring his fangs right above us, about to sink them into our flesh. He pulls back as soon as we open our eyes, retreating immediately until there's a safe distance between him and Tav. 

This may be the first time Tav gets to know that Astarion is a vampire, so he gets defensive and tells us that he's never killed a person for food, only animals. But then, instead of letting the idea of feeding on Tav go, he insists that animals aren't enough. 

But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak. 

If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please. 

Then he goes on, literally pleading to get what he wants while putting on a sad expression in the end, even averting his gaze. 

And if we now have in mind that he just woke up from a nightmare about Cazador, feeling powerless and in desperate need of even a glimpse of hope that he might escape Cazador's cruel grip, his lines make a lot of sense. He's veiling the truth, of course, but not all of what he says is a lie. 

He indeed feels weak - powerless in fact - so drinking Tav's blood (the blood of a thinking creature) could prove that he may have regained a bit of power over himself, which had been exclusively reserved for Cazador the last 200 years. This would absolutely make him feel stronger, more confident than he's felt for a long, long time. 

And he indeed could think clearer after tasting Tav's blood, because this would bring clarity to the question if he is now able to break Cazador's rules on purpose and therefore give him information to work with when he needs to think about what to do next. 

Right after this, we get the chance to push into Astarion's mind, and if we do this, we can see what he thinks about. 

His mind opens up, revealing cracked and quivering memories. At their heart, you see dark eyes, commanding you to feed. 

You open your mouth and bite down. Not into a tender neck, but in the twisting body of a rat - the only thing your master lets you eat. 

He recalls the memory of how his master used to force him to eat disgusting vermin. As his memory is told, we can clearly see how deeply this affects him, for he can't keep up his walls of defensiveness and detachment. They just crack, crumble and reveal his misery clearly for Tav to observe. When we ask him about it directly afterwards, he first seems to search for a way out - a witty remark, anything - but gives up almost immediately. And he looks and sounds just completely defeated and tired, confirming what Tav just saw in his mind. 

He goes on with talking about trust. I think here he's seeing a chance to gain Tav's sympathy. If he already reveals such delicate information about his past, he can as well make use of it. So he appeals to Tav's understanding, offering us that this past is the reason for him only trusting Tav slowly. But then he immediately adds that now he trusts Tav, and that in return Tav can trust him, too. 

What he does here is displaying himself as pitiful, gaining Tav's sympathy, then seemingly going out of his way and saying that despite all he does trust Tav, which puts Tav in the position to follow suit with returning the trust… which Astarion definitely lied about on his part. But that's what he does. Manipulating. 

If we then respond with "You tried to bite me. How can I trust you?" instead of assuring us of his trustworthiness with more manipulation, he gets frustrated. 

Because we don't have a choice! Not if we're going to save ourselves from these worms. 

But he goes on with masking his reasons, even if he gave us a hint right in the beginning of act 1 when we picked him up, where he said that he would rather control the tadpole instead of removing it. If we play as Astarion, it gets clear pretty fast that he holds onto the tadpole, because it seems to be the only thing that had been able to "save" him from Cazador whilst no one and nothing else even attempted to help him for two centuries. Of course he would not want to get rid of the tadpole just like that. But he says so nonetheless to align with Tav's goals and display himself as useful. 

And then he does something interesting. 

I need you alive. You need me strong. 

Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal. 

In the beginning of this conversation he mentioned he needed the blood to fight better. Now he takes up on this by saying that Tav needs him strong, hinting on him getting stronger after having a taste of Tav's blood. And then he promises that after this "everything can go back to normal", which right now means Astarion feeding on animals again. 

A few things about this are odd. 

Firstly, "only be a taste". Everyone, literally everyone has heard about the insatiable hunger of vampires. So how is it supposed to work that Astarion gets stronger from just a taste of Tav's blood? For how long? A few hours? Not nearly long enough to pose a real advantage, eh? For me this makes no sense. And if we think about his true intentions - wanting to find out if he can break Cazador's rule - just a taste would be absolutely enough. (And after he bites Tav without killing them, he even says that he needs something more filling!) 

Secondly, if Astarion really wanted to become stronger with the help of Tav's blood, why would he promise to go back to normal afterwards? He just offered Tav a stronger companion but then immediately nullified this argument by literally saying that this will be a one time arrangement. 

Thirdly, he subtly offers a bargain. "You give me your blood, I will be a stronger fighter for you." He did so in the beginning as well, repeating it with different words. And it fits his character very well to do so, because for all he knows everything comes with a price. He almost gets beaten to death and Cazador mercifully comes to his rescue? The price is a never ending life of torment and abuse. Astarion helps a potential victim for Cazador to flee? The price is a year of starvation, locked up in a dusty and dark tomb without knowing if it will ever find an end. Mindflayers rescued him from Cazador, (passively) granting him to possibly be free of him at last? The price is becoming a tentacled monster in the end. 

If we then allow him to bite us, he's visibly surprised about our graciousness, but of course doesn't let this chance slip and suggests getting comfortable instantly. Then he finally gets to sink his teeth into Tav's neck. This part of the scene can more or less be viewed from both sides - Astarion's and Tav's. 

He begins to feed on Tav and after a bit we can decide to interrupt him, but have to pass an ability check first. This repeats a second time when playing Tav, and even if it's only one AC when we play Astarion and decide to bite a companion, it still aligns, showing that Astarion seemingly loses himself in the taste of Tav's blood - which is very likely because (as he later tells us) we were the first humanoid he's ever fed on, so it's imaginable that Tav's blood must be tasting almost divine to him. 

This theory is supported by his actions after we fail the first AC or just let him continue. He grabs the back of Tav's head to pull them towards himself, emphasising on how greedy he is sucking the blood out of Tav. The camera even uses the exact same angles before failing or skipping the first AC and after, so the comparison is easy and the difference is clear:

If we then fail or skip the next AC, Astarion just drains us dry… And it gets even better after the bite night. 

The Morning After 

When Tav gets revived and then talks to Astarion, he is visibly surprised to see us, after he left the dead body of Tav behind with saying "Oh no, something terrible has happened". Sure Astarion, something… 

All of this happens when Astarion still doesn't care for Tav. He reacts with panic when we confront him with the fact that he literally killed us, and just manages to get his expression under control after a few seconds. I mean, just look at him:

'Killed' feels like a strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour. 

He definitely knows what he's done, and that 'killed' is indeed the right word for it, he is just very very bad at coping with guilt (which is amazingly analysed by thelikesoffinn - definitely read this, you'll understand Astarion so much better after this). 

He instantly lays the focus on our codependency again, that we need each other and so on. If we question why we should keep him around, he answers with:

A strong, well-fed vampire? I'm a powerful weapon - you'd be a fool to toss me aside now. 

With mentioning this, he wants to make sure that Tav will let him stay by their side and therefore grant him protection. 

But more importantly he continues:

Anyway, last night was an aberration. It will never happen again. 

He doesn't even start with something like "Next time I'll be more careful" or anything similar. He straight up says that it will never happen again. Period. If we then ask who he will feed on next time he gets hungry, he presents the idea of feeding on villains and bandits "who need killing anyway". And this is exactly what he wants. This even shows in his reaction to Tav's response to his suggestion.

If we agree and therefore allow him to feed on our enemies ("Sounds good. Glad we could agree"), this is how he reacts:

As am I. I'm starting to feel a little peckish already. 

This itself doesn't sound all too enthusiastic, but we get his approval up, which definitely shows that he very much likes that Tav agreed. 

On the contrary, if we suggest he can feed on Tav, ignoring his will wish to feed on villains ("Look, I'm not against you feeding on me, but only if we talk about it first"), this is his reaction:

Of course! This sounds eminently reasonable. 

I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. 

Doesn't sound too bad either, eh? But we don't get his approval. He doesn't disapprove, of course, because this is still a thousand times better than what he had until then, but still not what he really wants… 

So, what does all of this mean for the initial question? 

Conclusion 

The crucial point here is what it means for Astarion to feed on Tav. The only things he remembers since Cazador turned him, are being relentlessly dominated and horrifyingly abused. The things Astarion wants the most are to be safe and to finally have control over himself again. 

He bit Tav for the sole purpose of finding out if he can be free of Cazador's rules. So why would he jump right into being dependent on Tav? He suggests to feed on villains, because then he is free of anyone's mercy. He doesn't need to rely on Tav to graciously allow him to get a drop of blood. He can do this himself now. 

This is such an important step for his character growth, to find the way to his autonomy again, so if we only allow him to feed on Tav, it instantly sets him back into old habits of bowing to his masters words - or in this case Tav's. Because it's all hes been doing for the last two centuries of his life. 

So, as much as the thought of the self-sacrificing offer to be his personal blood bag may seem romantic or whatever, it's actually the exact opposite, trapping Astarion in what he desperately tries to escape from. The restrictions that come with someone dominating him mentally and physically. And as I mentioned earlier, he doesn't believe in the goodness of people. For him every "kind" act has a price and he likes to know what he has to pay, so he wouldn't even want to just drink Tav's blood without Tav getting anything out of it. He would most certainly expect Tav one day to come around with something he doesn't want to give or do, so he wants to control such situations beforehand. 

All he wants is to make his own decisions and be free in every way possible… 

So please just let him drain some bandits, will ya? 

[imagionationstation]

Today on the Mikey Is Not Abused news

Research shows that 78% of the “Poor Mikey” fanclub claims that Mikey is incapable of standing up for himself, whether that be because he fears further abuse, fears his brothers in general, suffers from intense depression, an abuse sort of conditioning, or *insert other incredulous views here* (Statistics may not be entirely accurate and should be used with caution).

Unfortunately for them, Mikey does knows how to stand up for himself and it has been shown that he can speak his mind to even the main abuser, Raphael, and walk away unscathed.

Astonishing claim, I know, but the facts prove themselves.

Mikey has brought up beliefs on several occasions, but his lack of awareness outside his own mind often disproves his own claims.

Years of leprechauns, cream cheese demons, and certainty in cupcake uprisings have worn down his brothers’ trust in his word on many different subjects. This is not his brothers ignoring him out of spite. This is merely because he has proven himself to be an unreliable source when it comes to reality.

His lack of interest in taking most battles and training sessions seriously grate on his brothers’ nerves and often lead them to doubt his prowess and abilities on the field. Mikey being the youngest and earning all of their must protect with life instincts doesn’t exactly help his case. He knowingly brings much of their wrath upon himself- with tauntings, and purposefully infuriating acts, and the constant reappearance of Dr. Prankenstein.

When Mikey doesn’t go gun-hoe or call Raph out for a whack on the head, it’s probably because he’s conscious enough to know he likely said/did something stupid, or because he purposefully did something annoying.

However, if he sees an injustice affect another by his brothers’ hand, he will be the first one to stand up and correct it.

Mikey is proven to be more likely to speak his mind when it comes to others around him getting retribution that he deems underserved.

IN FACT, a few of the only times fans actually see an aggressive argument/challenge poised to a brother is to Raphael, often in regards to his crass judgement.

Take Fourfold Trap as an example:

“I got the answer for you! Karai’s a lost cause!”

“Don’t say that, dude!”

Mikey shoves at Raph’s shoulder to make him face him and they both begin yelling/bickering/roughly gesturing. Mikey is in no way scared of how Raph will react to this and is immediate in getting physically aggressive and speaking his mind.

Not normally how someone who’s been abused all their life would act towards the main abuser, I think. Not convincing enough?

Well, The Curse of Savanti Romero is another:

In it, Renet is seen admitting to her mistake of letting Romero loose. Raph responds by immediately coming down on her for it, even though she understands and regrets her mistake.

Mikey has zero hesitations about jumping into the picture.

“You really are the worst time traveler ever! The worst!”

“Back off, bro! She needs our help!”

Psychology of most abusers would not point to this kind of situation going well. If this were the case- in no universe would Raphael have relented under his brother’s glare and stepped away, especially not after being shoved and yelled at in front of someone outside the family. That would be seen as a calling for punishment.

Moving away would be letting the abused assert dominance and think that they’ve gotten away with a win.

If this were really an abusive relationship, then Raphael would have had a far more violent reaction to his youngest brother butting in.

Instead, he growled, glared, and then relented. He could tell this was not an issue that could be further challenged. Mikey was standing his ground, intensely meeting his glare, and so Raph stepped away.

Now, have there been times where Mikey felt like he was left out or being ignored and that made him feel insecure?

Yes. Absolutely. Mikey Gets Shellacne is a prime example.

But, have the abusers, his older brothers, been made to share similar feelings of being unable to rely on their brothers at one time or another? Perhaps due to his direct or indirect actions? Why, yes.

Because, as hard as it is to believe, every person in that family has made mistakes when dealing with another family member. Relationships are hard. Not one person, or mutant, is perfect, and facing or accepting insecurities is always a fact of growing up.

Is this to say Mikey never stands up for himself?

No. Not even close.

Is it ever portrayed as something big and dramatic as a focal point of an episode? No. Because it doesn’t need to be.

If Mikey holding onto resentment and depression from how his brother abuse him was meant to be part of his character, it would have been a plot point in the episode where they’re literally in his brain. There would have been the slightest hint of something going on somewhere in that chaotic realm.

Instead, Mikey’s brain welcomed all of his brother with open arms.

And the true, inner Mikey runs ecstatically toward his brothers and into Leo’s open arms for snuggles, no more scared of his brothers inside his mind than outside of it.

The only time that he has thoughts of “my brothers are so mean to me I should run away” is the episode The Croaking, where he takes accountability and has the realization that his brothers aren’t the jerks that he thought they were when he ran off…

“Dude. Your brothers sound awesome.”

“Yeah. They are… Even after I trashed the house.”

Mikey doesn’t often react violently to his brother’s teasing because there’s not a reason too. He understands that his brother’s pick on him, but in reality, he picks on them too. It’s not a big enough deal to point out unless an evil planet is letting Angry Mikey consume all of his thoughts and then everything is terrible.

Mikey can stand up for himself. Mikey will always stand up for others.

And that brings this article to an end. Subscribe for more!

Next time, we’ll discuss why Parasitica May or May Not have a worse reputation than it truly deserves. Cowbunga!

[ilovejeongintoo]

"𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕒 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖?"

Jigsaw (Saw) & the Reluctant Participant Kink: Interrogation Play Warnings: cnc, degradation (just a lil),Jungwon is lowkey scary, sex machine, orgasm denial, edging Prompt: Trapped and powerless, you find yourself at the mercy of the infamous Jigsaw, your body craving the twisted pleasure he offers. As control slips from your grasp, desire and submission blur, leading you down a dark, seductive path where surrender becomes the ultimate thrill. How far will you go when there's no turning back?

The second installment to my Kinktober List 2024.

Darkness surrounded you, you were drowning in the dark around you. Your eyes couldn't make out any surrounding walls the slightly dimmed, single light above your head not helping you see. It wasn't quiet though, a whirring in the background maybe some kind of machinery being a constant noise. A smell of old dust maybe cement or stone you couldn’t tell.

When you start becoming more aware you feel the press of cold metal around your wrists and ankles, moving them but being pinned too close to really move at all. They wrapped tight around your limbs and the chair you were tightly strapped to. Your heartbeat increases more the more conscious you become. Your head pounds when you try turning it and a metallic noise sounds out in the room.

Then you hear a voice, talking slow and calculated, and a shiver runs through you. You can't really tell where it's coming from, still disoriented.

There’s bold lettering on the walls spelling out the sentence;” Wanna play a game?” Though your muffled brain doesn’t catch the clue. The writing done with red dripping paint.

"You’ve been living in the shadows of your desires for too long, haven’t you?"

You know who it is immediately. The telltale sign of the room, his voice, his choice of words. It all points its fingers to one person. Jigsaw. You've heard of people disappearing but it all seemed so unbelievable, so distant until right now.

You can’t tell where the voice is coming from. A small old speaker situated in the corner gives the output of his voice a slight crackle. Each word was slow, methodical like he really wanted you to listen carefully.

“For too long, you've indulged in a life of selfishness and excess, but today you will confront the truths you’ve buried deep inside. Today, you’ll face your punishment.”

Your punishment? For what? What did you do? Your mind races to find any explanation. The last thing that you remember before getting here….

Your breath catches in your throat in panic. A hiss cuts through the air. The uselessly dimming light illuminating a corner. That's when you see it, the machine that you've been hearing since the beginning. A big construction of steel, wires, tubes, and complex-looking engineering.

Right in front stands a cloaked figure, masked in the infamous puppet.

Jigsaw

He steps forward brushing his fingers along the machine's surface, the sound ominous, making you scared of what is to come. His voice, though distorted from his mask is clearer now booming through the room without the speaker.

"This machine I constructed will test you—your limits, your fears, your deepest urges. It is the key to your survival."

You struggle more against your restraints, he only continues watching in amusement.

“Your life, your choices... they’ve led you here.”

He pauses slightly  “You believe control gives you power, that by dominating others, you are invincible. But true power comes from understanding weakness. Now, you will be stripped of your control, left to endure the very submission you’ve forced onto others.”

You froze when he mentioned this. Yes, you had been a bit of a control freak and maybe that had led to your partners leaving you but did that really warrant you getting punished by the one and only Jigsaw killer? You weren’t a corrupt authority figure or a drug abuser. You just liked being in control of everything, your life, your decisions, your partners, and everything in the bedroom. 

You couldn’t let yourself be vulnerable with them but it could have been worse, you kept telling yourself.

What if I can’t take this? What if I break? The thought sends shivers down your spine but maybe… maybe I deserve this.

Your brain supplies uselessly, just adding unnecessary fear.

The chains tighten against your body suddenly, pulling you upright and facing the machine. It’s louder now as if it was preparing itself for the task ahead.

"You see, this is not a game of pain alone, but a game of pleasure and control—of denial and submission. If you wish to live, you must learn the cost of indulgence. Every choice you make will bring you closer to release... or your end.”

Your eyes widen in fear your body trembling just slightly 

He moves closer his voice deeper and more intimate now. You can see a mop of brown hair peeking out from his hood and it drops slightly in front of the mask.

“But I warn you... the release you seek may not be the one you think.”

The lights turn on and off, and a cold metallic arm extends from the machine, hovering inches from your body. Terrified you look at it then back at your captor as if your pleading look would get him to release you.

“Your test begins now.”

The metal arms the machine carries click further, stirring in their place. For a moment you hold your breath in anticipation of what's going to come next. The cold air hushes against your skin and you become aware; that you’re still clothed but for how long?

He steps closer his voice as calm as ever though the weight of his words grows heavier each time.

“You’ve spent your life hiding behind the armor of your choices. Your clothes... your mask. But here, there is no mask. No barriers.”

He makes another pause that drags on uncomfortably long so.

“The truth is revealed when there’s nothing left to hide.”

He gestures slowly to the arms and before you can react they lurch forward, grasping at your clothes and removing them one by one. There’s no aggression no rush, the movements are slow, practiced sharp motions stripping you of your last clothing items.

They easily slice through the fabric and your skin forms goosebumps from the cold in the room. You stay impossible still though in case they would accidentally cut not just the fiber.

Jigsaw watches without any noise or reaction, he sees every twitch of discomfort, every taken breath, and every bodily response. His gaze isn’t lustful, it’s calculating almost clinical as if undressing you was just another test, just another day.

He was doing more than just removing your clothes, he was getting rid of your last defenses. You press your eyes closed in hopes of waking up from this nightmare and if not just helping you slip into a state of ignorance bliss. 

He notices immediately.

“The more you fight, the longer this will take,” he murmurs. “You cannot hide from your desires. And soon, you won’t be able to hide from mine.”

The final fabric falling to the floor you open your eyes again, left completely naked, completely exposed, bound to the machine, revealed by the forever flickering overhead light. Your skin burns with the cold but even more from the burning gaze of being watched - Jigsaw’s masked gaze drinking up everything.

For a moment, all is still. The whir of the machine quiets, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing.

“Now,” Jigsaw finally says, stepping closer, his voice low and deliberate, “we can begin.”

The masked man’s voice breaks the silence, his tone calm but heavy with purpose.

"You’ve spent your life controlling everything and everyone around you. But what happens when the one thing you can’t control… is yourself?"

He steps closer around you, circling like you’re prey and he’s the predator that will sink his teeth into you. The constant noise of the machine does nothing to calm you down, it just furthers the energy in the room.

"Here’s your first question: When was the last time you let someone else take control?"

You thought about it for a moment, your cheeks heating up despite the situation given, out of embarrassment at having to admit to these kinds of questions.

"I don’t remember. It’s been a long time." you reluctantly respond, unwilling to give up any more information. You were hoping he didn’t know you too closely to think of this as a “wrong” answer. Playing stupid in front of a genius killer.

“Please you don’t have to do any of this. I already learned my lesson, just…please let me go.” You tried reasoning because you really would try to change.

You gulped your fear down slightly. Not willing to show how much he affected your emotions. He can’t know, because exactly that, he will use against you.

Jigsaw’s mask tilts slightly, as if in curiosity, though his voice remains in the same tone as always, no hint of any emotion. He ignored your effort to try and convince him to let you go.

"You’re not as good at avoiding the truth as you think. You’ve let someone take control before... and you’ll do it again, whether you admit it or not. But denial has its consequences."

His hand moved in his dark coat, probably pressing a button.

Your heart rate spiked up. And the machine’s arm buzzes, the hum rising in pitch as it begins its cruel teasing, it started slow, the touch foreign. A little uncomfortable on your skin, surgical. The coldness of the metal pipes that brushed against your sides contrasted with the softness of the hands themselves. They caressed your chest, not going straight to torturing your most intimate parts. They just slightly massaged your nipples, making them hard rather quickly because of how soft the hands themselves felt. You stared down at them in focus and bit your lips to stifle any noises.

You could deal with this, if it stayed just like this, which you seriously doubted. But nonetheless, you pep-talked yourself.

Just when you thought you were getting used to the sensations on your body the arms moved down your body until they reached the place that was dripping now. One circled your clit, and buzzed a little in vibration. It made you try and curl into yourself, denying yourself to enjoy the pleasurable feel but your restraints kept you immobile, you could only squirm and clench your teeth to not make any noise however when the other one moved down to your slicked-up hole, and began pushing a solid digit in, a moan slipped out.

You were slowly breaking, each movement making it harder to concentrate, soon you’d have to choose between stifling your noises and answering your captor.

“Avoidance won’t save you. You can’t control what you refuse to face.”

A pause. Then, the next question cuts through the silence.

“Tell me... when was the last time you let yourself lose control—completely?”

The words hang in the air like a challenge, daring you to confront your deepest vulnerabilities.

And you think about his words from before, there was a slight warning in it, making you rethink how you should reply to this one. You pause a little more.

"I… I don’t know. I can’t remember." You nonetheless answer.

His laughter, low and almost mocking, fills the room. Oh, you fucked up, didn’t you? Regret flooding your system immediately, and wishing you could take your response back.

"You’re lying to yourself now. You remember.” He steps behind you now. The hair on your neck rises in anticipation and fright of not being able to see him. Losing that control so easily.

 “You’ve lost control before, and you will again. But you’re still clinging to your delusion of power. Let’s see how much longer that lasts."

The machine’s touch becomes more relentless, it drags so deliciously over your folds, then back into your hole and out again. teasing you more relentlessly now. You were so close but it just wasn’t quite enough. Each time you almost let yourself step over that edge it would get pulled away from you. The constant denial drives the message home: the more you refuse to admit the truth, the less control you have.

There’s only one way out of this. To answer honestly. And that’s the thing you dread most.

The machine turns so loud now, but you can barely focus on anything besides the constant stimulation your pussy is receiving. You’re so so close. Your body is trembling in frustration from not getting any release your breathing is shallow and quick. Your ass was soaked in your own juices making the slide so wet. Your hips unconsciously tried pushing against the hands searching for just enough stimuli to reach your high.

Jigsaw’s voice, calm but with an undercurrent of menace, cuts through the tension. And he steps back into your line of sight his tall frame intimidating even if he isn’t physically big.

“You’re still avoiding the truth. How long do you think you can hold onto this delusion?”

The pressure increases, the sensation teetering on the edge of unbearable, and yet it keeps you hanging just short of satisfaction. The more you resist, the more helpless you feel. The room grows colder, the air heavy with the weight of Jigsaw's impending next question.

Jigsaw’s voice becomes darker, more insistent. He unbuttoned the first buttons of his cape, slowly taking it off. Revealing a dress shirt, a grey vest, a tie, and matching slacks underneath. Formal wear, something you definitely didn’t expect

You threw the cape into a corner of the room. His clothes pleasingly fit his form, lean muscles making them fit on him deliciously. You immediately shook your head from the thoughts invading your mind.

“Since you can’t seem to tell the truth about losing control, let’s make it simpler.”

You sigh slightly in relief, maybe he would make this easier on you. He pauses, letting the silence stretch painfully long, allowing your mounting frustration to fester.

“When was the last time you were forced to submit to someone else’s will?”

He leans closer, the weight of his presence suffocating, even though you can’t see his face clearly behind the mask. You could just slightly make out his dark eyes behind the mesh of the eye holes.

His hand came up to your face picking it up and tilting it, making you automatically have to let your eyes stay on him.

“Tell me, who made you feel powerless?” With his eyes piercing you it was like he lured the truth out of you.

You felt the machine's arms twitch, waiting for the answer, threatening more denial or perhaps something worse. The movement completely halting made your answer finally be something akin of the truth.

“I… I was forced before. It’s happened before, and I hated it.” Your thoughts flashed back to your ex, how no matter what you told him, he just did whatever he wanted. You had lost total control not just of your guys’ relationship but also yourself. And you never absolutely ever wanted to experience something like that again.

Now you were forced to confront that same thing.

The room falls silent, and for the first time, Jigsaw’s voice softens, though it still carries a chilling edge. He caresses your head in a gesture that was supposed to be reassuring but made it feel more mockingly with the mask staring down at you.

“Good. You’re starting to understand. Submission is not a weakness, but denial of it is. The truth you fear most is what will set you free... if you survive.”

The machine’s teasing is slower now, giving them just enough reprieve to catch their breath. The chains remain tight, but the suffocating pressure eases. Jigsaw’s voice lowers to a whisper. His hold on you releasing.

“But this is far from over. You’ve only scratched the surface of your truth. There’s still more to reveal.” He steps away from you, crossing his arms and tilting his head in observation.

The tension from your body slightly eases from the slowed-down movements, giving you time to take some much-needed shaky breaths. The cold air once again seems more present now, prickling your skin your heart still pounding from the onslaught of pleasure from before. The machine’s grip eases just a fraction.

 After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice quieter but still filled with unmatched control.

“Good. Admitting that you’ve submitted before means you’re starting to understand the game. Submission isn’t weakness—it’s inevitable when your will is tested beyond its limits.”

It almost sounded like he wanted to reassure you that it was okay, to admit these dark vulnerabilities to him. Well if you did, you might as well do it here. You doubt a serial killer will judge you much for what you’ll be saying.

A brief pause, his masked face tilting the other way slightly as though studying you.

“But don’t mistake this for mercy. Your truth is just the beginning. Now we see how deep your submission runs.”

The machine remains poised, its presence a constant threat, but for now, it lingers, awaiting the next phase of the game.

Jigsaw steps closer, the sound of his footsteps sharp against the cold floor. The black dress shoes that you take notice of now, snapping against the concrete.  He’s still calm, still methodical, but now there’s a palpable shift in his demeanor. He’s pushing deeper into your mind, now that he knows you have started to break.

“Since you’ve confessed to losing control, it’s time we explore something else.”

His voice lowers, the intensity rising in his tone as he moves even closer. Each time he was about to ask a question your heart would pick up a few beats, the only thing filling you being pure and utter terror.

“You’re not just afraid of losing control… are you? You’re afraid of how much you crave it.”

Your breath hitched because you knew, you knew how right he was about that. The tension in the air thickens as he leans in, his breath cold against your skin. A shaky breath escaped you at the contact. Just a little more and his mask would brush against you if he would just take it off and do exactly that. You almost missed the constant rubbing and teasing the hands provided.

“So tell me... when was the last time you gave in to that craving and enjoyed being powerless?”

The question is like a knife, cutting into your deepest, most secret desires. Your body stiffens, the air suddenly feeling even colder, as you realize what Jigsaw is really asking—the fear and desire to submit intertwined.

“I… I don’t want to admit it, but I have enjoyed it before. I didn’t mean to, but I did.” Your eyes fell shut again at your admission like that could hide you.

Jigsaw falls silent, and the air feels thick with tension, each second feels longer and longer. The mechanical humming seems to soften slightly, but the weight of the your confession hangs in the room like a dark cloud.

“Now you’re starting to understand.” His face moves away but not very far.

The machine slows, giving the victim just enough relief to let their body relax, though the threat still lingers. Jigsaw steps back, watching as the victim trembles, their skin still sensitive from the teasing denial.

“Admitting you’ve enjoyed powerlessness is the first step. But now comes the real test. We’re going to see how much you can take before that craving becomes your breaking point.”

Jigsaw stands still for a moment, letting the weight of the victim’s confession settle in. Processing. The air feels heavier, your pulse racing as you realize what you’ve just admitted. The machine, which had briefly slowed its torment, hums again, but this time with a new energy.

"So, you’ve finally confessed. You’ve craved the very thing you’ve always denied—powerlessness."

He steps forward, his presence even more imposing. The cold metal of the machine hums louder, and the victim's body, trembling with anticipation, tightens as the teasing pulses resume. The sensation is different now faster, more concentrated more focused in a new vigor.

Jigsaw’s voice lowers, almost intimate, as he leans in close to the victim’s ear.

"Now, let’s test how deep that craving goes."

He flips a switch on the machine, and instantly, the teasing becomes an overwhelming onslaught of pleasure and pain, pushing you closer to the edge than they’ve ever been before. In a matter of seconds, you're back to panting like a dog in heat. The mechanical arms grip tighter, pulling your body taut as the pulses of sensation ripple through you. It’s like they knew each brush, each thrust, each button to get you closer and closer.

You buck involuntarily against the restraints, your breath quickening, muscles straining. Your moans ring out clearly through the room no restrain anymore in them. 

"Do you want to submit completely?" Jigsaw’s voice echoes, a command hidden in the question.

Jigsaw stands still for a moment, letting the weight of the victim’s confession settle in. The air feels heavier, their pulse racing as they realize what they’ve just admitted. The machine, which had briefly slowed its torment, hums again, but this time with a new energy.

"So, you’ve finally confessed. You’ve craved the very thing you’ve always denied—powerlessness."

He steps forward, his presence even more imposing. The cold metal of the machine hums louder, and the victim's body, trembling with anticipation, tightens as the teasing pulses resume. The sensation is different now—more intense, more invasive—yet still withholding that elusive release.

Jigsaw’s voice lowers, almost intimate, as he leans in close to the victim’s ear.

"Now, let’s test how deep that craving goes."

He flips a switch on the machine, and instantly, the teasing becomes an overwhelming onslaught of pleasure and pain, pushing the victim closer to the edge than they’ve ever been before. The mechanical arms grip tighter, pulling their body taut as the pulses of sensation ripple through them.

Your body bucks involuntarily against the restraints, your breath quickening, muscles straining. 

"Do you want to submit completely?" Jigsaw’s voice echoes, a command hidden in the question.

"Tell me," Jigsaw continues, his voice a dangerous whisper. "If you want release, beg for it. Admit you have no control left. If you refuse, you’ll stay here, until your mind and body break."

You can barely think, your body trembling involuntarily as the machine keeps you teetering on the edge, closer to release than ever but still denied. Every muscle strains against the chains, to try and get out, as you feel your resolve slipping.

"Submit completely," Jigsaw orders, the demand hanging heavy in the air. "Or resist, and you will never know release again."

It was clear what your answer was going to be. Too out of it to even try to resist his commands. Too fucking desperate to get that release, to feel yourself leak onto the machinery below. To make a mess of everything even more.

You're too overwhelmed by the relentless sensations, gasping for breath. Aching for release, the denial becoming unbearable, bordering painful.

You wanted to let go, absolutely you did. You wanted somebody to completely take over the reins that you so desperately held on to. To give yourself completely over, to not focus on any control at all because that someone, you would trust completely.

“Please…” you whisper, your voice trembling, soaked in desperation. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. I submit. I’m not in control. I… I need it.” Each word spills from your lips, raw and pleading, your gaze locked onto his, craving touch, his touch

A sinister smile creeps beneath his mask, a dark victory shining in his eyes. The machine’s movements slow, almost as if savoring your confession. The restraints tighten one last time, an agonizing reminder of your submission, before—release. The mechanical pulses surge, overwhelming your senses in a tidal wave of sensation.

But it’s his fingers you feel now—long, thick, and unmistakably human. Your eyes snap open, and there he is, Jigsaw, looming over you, a predator inching closer. As his fingers plunge deep inside you, you can’t help but feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. The heat radiates from him, mingling with your own arousal, igniting a primal fire within.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust. “So eager to be used. You’re just a filthy little thing, begging for it.” Your body convulses at his words, caught in a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain. Each thrust of his fingers drags against your walls, expertly hitting that sensitive spot the machines had cruelly denied.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” he breathes, his breath quickening, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine now. I’m going to make you feel every bit of it. I’ll take that control and give you exactly what you crave” The way he speaks makes your head spin, and you realize he’s as lost in this moment as you are, his arousal palpable and intoxicating.

“Good. You’ve learned your lesson,” he growls, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrates through your core. “But remember… this is only the beginning of your real submission. I want you to scream for me, to beg for more.” The tension hangs thick in the air, the two of you bound together in this dark, twisted dance of desire.

As your mind spirals into blissful oblivion, everything fades to black—just as it all began. You’re left spent, breathless, fully aware that you’ve relinquished the control you once clung to so desperately. In this dark embrace, surrender becomes the sweetest ecstasy, a thrilling intertwining of your desires and his.

[slutforgarlogan]

First time | Pre death Kyle Spencer x F! reader

Summary: Kyle and reader have been seeing each other for a while and the reader loses her v card to him

Warnings: smut, p in v, hair pulling like once, praise, first time, pretty basic vanilla shit its just Kyle being adorable, oral (f recievering), kinda rushed at the end i have 3 overdue assignments to attend to

His lips softly meld with yours and his tongue darts out his between his lips, swiping over your bottom lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You obliged, and your tongue slips into his mouth too, wrestling for dominance.

You and Kyle had known each other for almost a year now, you'd met him at one of his frat's parties, and you fell for him instantly. Making out was a regular thing for you both, though you'd never taken it any further - you were a virgin. You weren't ashamed of it by any means, you just weren't interested in losing it to someone who didn't mean anything to you. But it was moments like these with Kyle that you wish you had just a little bit of experience. Just to be confident enough to take it further.

His hands run down your body, tracing your figure, and he stops when they're cupping your ass to squeeze it a little. His tongue is still exploring your mouth, winning the battle for dominance as you keep your arms tightly wound around his neck.

Eventually you broke apart for a second, locking eyes breathlessly. He gives you a soft smile, before moving in to kiss you again, one hand holding the side of your neck in a way that made you want to take him right then, and the other on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kisses you. You instinctively wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him closer to you.

You match the rhythm of how he's kissing you, and you feel his hand tug at your hair. You let out a small whimper by accident, and you feel your face flush out of embarrassment. He moves the hand from your neck down to your shoulder, pushing one of the straps of your dress down your shoulder as he pulls away.

You look at him, not sure what you can say, but he opens his mouth before you can, smirking "Oh? You like that dont you?" You just look at him doe eyed and nod meekly. He lets out a soft chuckle, continuing what he was doing, reaching his hand out to push the other dress strap down.

You watch his hand, not saying anything for a second and not daring to look him in the eyes as you regain the ability to speak, though your voice comes out as barely a whisper "Kyle"

His eyes flick up to look at your face again, and you still don't dare to lock your eyes with his. He hums a little "mhm" in response, waiting for you to speak. You feel a little embarassed, and you look at the little space of floor in between the two of you's feet, tone still hushed. "I've never.. I'm a virgin"

He puts his finger under your chin, and tilts your head up to face him. You reluctantly let your eyes lock with his, and his gaze is soft, a small smile painted on his pretty face. "We don't have to do anything. It's up to you, really"

"No no, i want to" you almost stammer it out. You'd been longing for something more for a while, but you were scared you would mess up and you would hate to embarass yourself in front of Kyle.

He raises an eyebrow, keeping his expression soft and warm, and the comforting smile never left his lips "You sure?"

You nod, and he smiles, slowly moving his hand back over to pull your dress down and moving back a bit to let you step out of it yourself. You do so, and you feel a little self conscious stood in front of him in just your bra and panties. You look at his face, and you can't actually read it. Your mind is racing, overthinking like crazy, but Kyle smiles and whispers lowly "You're so beautiful"

You exchange a small and cheesy smile with him as your cheeks turn pink once again, and he points at his bed behind you. "Sit, let me take care of you" You back up, sitting down when you feel the side of the bed against the back of your legs. You're already soaked through and he's barely touched you yet - you can feel it too, your body aching deliciously for him to touch you.

He sits on the floor in front of you, on his knees, and he presses an open mouthed kiss on your chest, in between your boobs. He trails kisses down your torso, softly sucking on the skin a couple times, leaving light marks that make your breath hitch. Your eyes stay trained on him as he gets closer to the place you need him most, and he gently hooks 2 of his fingers over the waistband of your underwear, looking up at you with a soft gaze. "Is this okay?" he asks, just to give you the opportunity to back out if you weren't sure. You nod a little at him, and he notices how quiet you've been the whole time, not taking the small nod as a real answer. "Words baby"

Your eyes are still trained on him as you reply softly, and you can hear a bit of desperation in your voice. "Yes, Kyle please"

He's clearly satisfied with that answer, as he pulls ur panties down your legs, watching a string of your arousal connect from your core to your panties for a second before it breaks. You're absolutely soaked, and Kyle is obssessed with the effect he has on you. He grins to himself as he tosses your panties to the side, not commenting on how wet you are in case he embarrases you.

He uses his big hands to carefully push your thighs apart, putting them over his shoulders as he teasingly blows air onto your core. You mewl quietly, looking at him with desperate glossed over eyes. silently begging him to not tease you. He lets out a quiet breathy chuckle, and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. You take a sharp breath in, arching slightly. "Kyle please dont tease"

He is relishing in how desperate you are for him, and he wants to tease you more but he decides to be nice since its your first time. He dips his head down fully, and presses a feather light kiss to your clit, and then kitten licks the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands fly into his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft blond locks as he licks and sucks your clit.

He moves a hand down too, pressing a finger to your hole and slowly pushing it in, before pulling it back out and pushing it in again, continuing to pump it at a steady rhythm. Your breathing starts to get heavier, as you let out quiet moans and whimpers arching your back on his sheets. He adds another finger, stretching you out ready for his dick, scissoring the two fingers inside you, and then curling them upwards to his the spongy spot inside you that makes you moan out.

"fuckk Kyle, right there" He smiles againsg your pussy as you moan. He latches his mouth on your already overly sensitive clit, sucking it quite harshly and tears threaten the corners of your eyes at the heavy stimulation. You whimper out a string of curse words along with pleas of his name "im so close"

He brings his other hand off your thigh to press your abdomen, sucking your clit harder and keeping the pace with his fingers. You feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, and it snaps with a particularly harsh suck on your clit. Your legs tremble a little around his head and you snap your thighs shut, locking his head in place as you moan out his name like a mantra, walls clenching as you cum around his fingers.

He pumps his fingers in and out a couple more times as he pulls his head away, letting you ride out your high. "Good girl, you did so well for me. Do you think you can do another?"

You take a second to catch your breath, and then nod at him "mhm, want you inside Kyle"

He smiles again, unbuttoning his trousers in a hurry as you unclasp your bra, throwing it across the room. He crawls onto the bed, hovering over you as he takes his shirt off, tossing it across the room, and you can feel his dick brush against your thigh.

He looks down at your face as he lines himself up with your entrance, smiling softly and pushing himself in. He bottoms out, stretching out your walls and then stills, looking at you for a signal to move. It hurt a little bit, but the pain was bareable, and a bit pleasurable. You nod gently, breathing out a small "please"

He gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead, thrusting in and out of you lovingly at a pace that wasnt fast by any means, but it wasnt slow either.

He picks up the pace after a while, kneading your breast with one hand. Kyle lets out a low moan, eyes fluttering shut, "Fuckk baby, you feel so good" you just whimper in response to it, still feeling sensitive from cumming not long ago.

Kyle snakes his hand down from your breast, moving it down to your clit to rub soft circles on it, thrusting into you harder and faster, making you moan and whimper underneath him. He's getting closer, and he tries to concentrate on not cumming - wanting to get you to finish before he pulls out. His dick twitches a little and his thrusts become just the slightest bit sloppier. He puts pressure on your clit with his finger, and you whimper out a string of desperate pleas.

He leans down to place a kiss on your shoulder. "I know baby, let go" You whimper, and pulse around him, cumming all over his cock. "Good girl" his voice comes out as a broken moan. He pulls out at an insane speed and you whine at the abrupt loss of contact.

You watch him as he gives his dick a couple pumps before he spills his load onto your stomach. The noises he makes are nothing short of sinful, the sight and sound of him making your aching and sensitive cunt clench around nothing and he collapses down next to you, kissing your shoulder as he does so, catching his breath for a second.

"I love you Ky"

He smiles at you softly, reaching his hand out to rub a thumb over your cheek as he locks eyes with you. "I love you too"

He stands up off the bed. "Lets get you cleaned up baby"

[cuntylouis]

Months of reading how Armand is the Big Bad man behind the curtain manipulating and mindcontrolling everyone with his godlike powers, and now suddenly in one day it switched to cruel Pimp Louis manipulating and enslaving Armand and Armand being his poor victim. I'm begging you to look at these characters and their relationships with some nuance. I'm not denying that Louis is trying to manipulate Armand in some moments (Jacob said it himself in the post-episode bit) but seeing that park scene as Louis intentionally evoking Armand's trauma and a pimp and slave assuming their old roles is in my opinion a stretch and i didn't read it that way. Tbh i also find it pretty offensive that some people are acting like when Louis was a pimp he was doing something similar to people who subjected Armand to literal sexual slavery because they're vastly different situations.

Arun isn't Armand's 'slave name' or 'prostitute name', it was his actual birth name before he was sold and abused, and he lost that name due to abuse. If Louis had actually wanted to push a master-slave dynamic he would've probably called Armand Amadeo, because that was the name Armand's abuser, who Armand served and in some way still loves, gave to him. When Louis was a pimp he notably also didn't actually act particularly domineering with sex workers, on the contrary he was usually friendly to them, because he felt guilty for exploiting women and tried to convince himself he was just helping and working with them and that they were equals. He made sex workers like Bricktop Williams minority owners of his business and they felt comfortable with criticizing him. If Louis had actually 'treated Armand like one of his prostitutes' in this episode he would've acted completely differently. Remember also that Armand has a remarkable mind gift and that Louis is bad at hiding his thoughts: if Louis had actually been trying to manipulate Armand in this specific way, Armand would very likely know it.

In the beginning of the episode Armand is frustrated that Louis doesn't acknowledge that they're companions, and Louis expresses that they don't really know each other. Later at the restaurant Armand gets angry and uses his powers dramatically which upsets Louis. He also talks to Louis rather harshly, saying that he and Santiago are acting like fledglings (children) and angrily tells Louis to come back when he leaves. Later Armand comes to apologize bringing flowers. All this reminds Louis of Lestat, and reveals how apprehensive he still is about Armand. Armand deciding to tell Louis his story is a conscious effort to show vulnerability and convince Louis of what he promised: that Armand isn't like Lestat and he isn't going to hurt him. Jacob said that dreamstat represents not only Lestat but Louis' doubts about Armand. In the museum scene this is particularly obvious when Louis feels deep sympathy for Armand, but at the same time dreamstat - a part of Louis - looks angry and distrustful. According to Jacob in the park scene as Louis lets go of Lestat he's also letting go of those doubts and accepting Armand as he is and for who he is.

So when Louis calls Armand by his birth name that could be considered his 'real' name even though no one has called him that for centuries, i see it as him saying 'Do we see each other now? Are we honest about things now? Can i trust that you are who you say you are?' When Armand calls Louis maitre he's trying to establish an impression of equality, because as they both know Armand is the maitre and the leader of the coven and the one with much more power. For Armand the ideal of love is the one of mutual worship and servitude. Like many things with Armand, his actions in this episode are both sincere and manipulative, and his seeming submissiveness is also certain kind of domination that helps him to get what he wants.

I just don't think their relationship is anything like Louis being a master and Armand being a slave at all. It's a very, very complicated and mercurial relationship that is not easily defined and where the dynamics are constantly shifting. As Jacob said, they're constantly flip-flopping between who's the dominant one and who's the submissive one, and who needs what out of the other. He also said that at the end of this episode their relationship takes on this almost BDSM kind of role playing where their roles switch, which implies that a) it's a play and not what their relationship is actually like and b) there was earlier a different dynamic where Armand was more dominant. Their Rashid role play in Dubai was also that, a role play.

When talking about those Louis' 'manipulative instincts' as Jacob called them, it needs to be considered they're something that Louis developed having to live in a racist society for all his life ("using his weakness to rise") and being in an abusive relationship for decades. For Louis that kind of soft power has often been the only power he has, and of course he's resorting to it when in a relationship with much older and much more powerful person he doesn't fully trust. The way i perceive Louis and Armand's relationship, it's a fragile, carefully crafted design built on contradictions, performances and illusions, where they both seek to maintain a fantasy where they both feel sufficiently in control and the relief of releasing that control at the same time

[sonotpattismith]

i'm still your girl (satoru gojo x reader)

if you have to leave— I wish that you would just leave because your presence still lingers here, and it won’t leave me alone.

word count: 7.5k inspired by: dancing with your ghost by sasha alex sloan & my immortal by evanescence warnings: angst, mentions of death, mourning, depression, smut, 18+ a/n: AHHH I LOVED THIS ONE SO MUCH! I really wanted to do something a little spooky for Halloween, even if it wasn't officially halloween themed :( I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts! ILY!

You tried to ignore him at first. He would stare back at you through your reflection in the mirror, just as he once did when the two of you would get ready for bed. He used to smile at you over his foamed toothbrush when he’d catch you staring at him, mumbling unintelligibly with his mouth full of suds. It made you laugh nonetheless, and he would lean over to spit into the sink before repeating himself with a teasing glint in his sparkling eyes. 

Why stare at my reflection when you’ve got the real thing here, sweetcheeks?

But Satoru had been dead for two months, and he no longer had anything to say about the way you stared blankly back at his reflection. 

You cried the first time you had seen him. It was just in your peripheral as you climbed into what was once his side of the bed. His dominating presence loomed in the doorframe, as if awaiting an invitation to come join you. In the haze of your mourning, having only been back at you and Satoru’s shared home for three days since he’d been gone, you thought perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. Still, there was no mistaking those glowing eyes and their tendency to follow you across whatever room you were in. 

That night, you could only pull the covers over your head, too afraid of the fragility of your own sanity to dare take another look. His presence lingered though, the waves of his energy enough to leave you trembling underneath the comforter, tears spilling onto the plush pillow that still held his scent. You never peaked out, but a part of you knew he never left that night, lingering in the doorway and haunting you once you’d successfully cried yourself to sleep. 

It went on like that for a while. You believing your sanity was simply waning in his absence, him believing you simply didn’t see him. So, he watched as you trudged through life— if that’s what you could call your melancholy existence holed up in what once was a shared space— trapped behind the perceived veil of life and death that his abrupt departure had left the two of you in. 

There wasn’t a definitive moment when he determined that you could in fact see his silent figure observing you and feel his energy weighing down the air around the house. It came in waves; Satoru would notice how your sidelong glances toward the corner of the room lingered too long to be considered just a sweep around the room. He took note of the way you’d avoid facing the door at night when you’d pretend to be sleeping. 

One night, as you laid on the sofa, dark-rimmed eyes mindlessly fluttering across the television screen, perhaps your grief had simply outweighed the logical part of your mind that said giving into delusions— no—hallucinations, was not a good call for your already declining mental state. Your feeling conscious enough to turn on the television was a new development, one that Satoru was grateful for. He wasn’t sure how long he could watch you stare stiffly up at the ceiling, only an occasional sigh or sniffle that told him you were still breathing. 

Your thumb ticked over title after title, not even bothering to read descriptions or watch trailers before you passed them up. The gentle clicking noise was beginning to scratch at his ears, and, if he could still bleed, he was sure it’d be covering his jaw and neck by now. But then it stopped. Glancing up from his unwavering gaze on your slumped figure, his cerulean eyes landed on the sight of what once was your favorite Halloween movie to watch together. It had become a tradition, every year around this time, the two of you would pull out the matching pajama pants he’d bought for you on your first fall together just for the viewing occasion. 

You would always pretend to be irritated with him as he leaned into your ear and dramatically recited every line as they were being acted out. Delicate hands would push at his face as you repressed an amused smile. He’d only turn his theatrics up a notch, letting out a blood-curdling scream in tandem with the main actresses— so loud it made you glad you two had moved out of your apartment and into a house just two years into your relationship. Your boisterous laughter would fill the room as he tackled you into his lap, shaking your shoulders dramatically. 

The memory hung in the space between you. On the screen before you, the title lingered, taunting the both of you with broken promises of what would have been your fifth year watching it together. The man’s gaze was pulled from the screen when he saw your head tilt out of the corner of his eye. Your cheek was still smushed against the cushion, but you had angled it just so, and he could swear you were staring at him from your peripheral— waiting, inviting. 

Satoru stepped forward, eyes never leaving your face as he sank down into the spot by your feet. It was the first time the both of you had acknowledged the arrangement fate had thrust upon you. Your eyes, now brimmed with tears, returned to the screen as you pressed play on the movie. 

You didn’t understand what he was. The first thought was a hallucination, but as his energy lingered, and you felt the warmth of his thighs against your feet as the film shot bursts of color and sound throughout the morose living room, you began to think that perhaps he was more real than you were giving your psyche credit for. 

The second theory was a curse, conjured up from the macabre sense of loss and void that had tunneled within your chest since his death. How fitting, you thought, to have your love haunt you in the very form of what brought him to his end. As you pretended to watch the movie, keeping a watchful peripheral eye on the man at the end of the couch, you decided you didn’t care enough to find out. If you did, you weren’t sure you’d be strong enough to exorcize him should your theory be correct. It felt nice to have him here with you, soulbound or not. 

Your subtle acknowledgement of him did nothing to shift the silent stares and subtle invitations into something more— both of you too fearful of what it would mean if you did. So, he still stalked behind you as you brushed your teeth every night, and he awaited your subtle nod as you picked out your nightly cinematic reminder of what you two once were. 

It began eating away at him. He’d watch your phone light up with messages, ring with calls, all from your friends begging to know how you were doing, if there was anything they could do for you. Each time though, you’d barely glance at the device before sighing softly. It felt as though the phone weighed a ton, and it would surely take all your energy to simply acknowledge them. You would get back to them tomorrow, you thought to yourself yesterday, as well as the day before that. 

It was becoming too much— watching the shell of the woman he loved— loves— wither away at the hands of his own demise. Satoru wondered if it would have been easier on you had you been given a proper goodbye, but at the time, he was too cowardly to face you with the notion of it. Although the sorcerer had been prepared to go toe to toe with the king of curses, he couldn’t find it in him to prepare you for the possibility of his own death. 

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you out of your trance— to tell him it wasn’t all because of him. You couldn’t have tossed away your soul because of him. 

The credits of the movie you’d been idly watching rolled to completion, and your eyes remained glued to the screen as though reading each name as it slowly dragged down. The television screen faded to black before the film restarted from the beginning. Satoru watched, waiting for you to grab the remote, change it, move, blink, cry— anything. Lights flashed across your blank face as the familiar title card played, and he couldn’t take it anymore. 

Although he wanted to shout, scream at you to snap out of it, nothing would come out. As he attempted to push the breaths up his chest and out his throat with some semblance of a plea, it was as if an imaginary force had its fingers wrapped around his neck, halting any wish he had to get through to you. 

His chest rose and fell dramatically, snowy brows furrowing in frustration, and he kicked at the coffee table, sending it rumbling across the living room to hit the entertainment center with a deafening crack. The television shook but steadied after just a moment. Those gleaming eyes remained transfixed on you though— you hadn’t even flinched. Blinking slowly once, and then a second time, and your head slowly turned to meet his eyes straight on for the first time since his death. 

It caught him off guard. Of course, there were countless moments when your sidelong glances and hitched breaths let him know that you sensed something was amiss. Still, you had never dared look into his eyes— never made him feel as though he was really still with you. 

“Stop it, Satoru.” 

It was a flat demand— a test. Would he listen to you? Could he hear you? Did he care? 

Straightening his back against the couch, he stared unblinkingly at you for a moment before slowly standing up from his spot. His eyes didn’t leave yours once as he crouched down to grab the leg of the table and pull it back to its respective spot. He stood still facing you for what felt like hours. With each second that passed, your lip would slowly twitch, and your eyes would soften— because fuck, was he really there?

And then he held his hand out to you with a barely noticeable hesitance, and you didn’t seem to care any longer if he was just in your mind, or if he was a curse, or a ghost, because your fingers were trembling as they traced across his palm— and he was warm, and he was your Satoru. For that moment, his body hadn’t been torn to pieces because it was pulling yours off the couch. His lips weren’t cold and blue, because they were pressing against your forehead as your tears began to fall in salty, stinging waves down your cheeks. Satoru wasn’t dead, because he was right here, and your arms were twisted around the very torso that had been sliced clean off of him. 

Trembling sobs racked your frame as you pulled yourself up with desperate hands on his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to crawl inside of him and hide from the heinous idea that your lover was dead. His hands grasped at your thighs to pull you up, and you cried into his collarbone, tears and snot mixing grotesquely against him so much so that you didn’t notice the pulse you used to press kisses to was no longer there. 

“You said goodbye to everyone!” You cried pounding at his back as he carried you silently toward your bedroom. “I didn’t get anything. You knew— you knew, Satoru!”

Despite his not being able to speak, he still bit his tongue at your accusations. Slowly, he settled down on his side of the bed, clutching you close to his chest as you fought to pull away in order to glare down at him, venom and grief mixing arbitrarily in your veins. You weren’t sure it was him, if he could speak or even understand what you were saying anymore, but you had so much anger in you for how he left things. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Warn me?” Your words were being muffled behind your gritted teeth as he finally released the firm grip he had on the back of your head. Balled up fists beat weakly against his chest, though they never hurt him when he was breathing, so they certainly couldn’t hurt him now. “Why didn’t you say goodbye to me?”

He couldn’t speak to explain to you his cowardice and talk you through that crack in your voice. So, he sat up and pulled you into him, pressing his lips against yours as your salty tears seeped into the crevices of his mouth and coated his tongue with your grief. Those familiar fingers creeped up your neck to grasp at your jaw, prying your mouth open as though he could breathe into you every regret he’d left behind. 

Your cries slowly died out against his open mouthed kisses, and you found yourself messily reciprocating, desperate for any distraction from the reality you’d been living in for weeks. His thumbs wiped roughly at each tear that slipped down your cheek, having had his fill of being the cause of them for so long. 

“I love you.” You cried against his tongue, raking your nails through his feathery hair and inhaling deeply through your nose. He didn’t smell like himself anymore— he didn’t smell like anything. Any supplement of him would do though, and your hands dipped down to pull his tshirt off. Those enrapturing eyes stared back at you longingly once the fabric was yanked over his head, and he wanted nothing more than to say it back to you. For now though, you were okay to fill that void in his unwilling silence. “I still love you, Toru. Please— stay.”

Satoru wasn’t sure the morality of his decision, but he knew it had been weeks of aching to reach out to you, and now you were here in his arms, arching against his wandering hands and forgetting that his body was being eaten away at by worms and vermin. Perhaps, he thought as he slid his old shirt over your head and buried his face into your chest, this is exactly why he had been barred from whatever afterlife had been awaiting him. He’d always heard that old expression, the superstition that no one soul can pass on with unfinished business to attend to. Had he barricaded his own soul to the land of the living when he failed to prepare you for his death? Was your grief keeping him here?

If so, he selfishly hoped you’d never recover, because the man who was once the strongest wasn’t sure he was strong enough to leave you— not with how your soul seemed to mesh with his as he settled you over his aching length, hoping to fill the void your mourning for him had created. If Satoru was bound for Heaven, he wasn’t sure that whatever was promised would come close to the holiness of your sweet moans against his ears and your nails’ stinging purchase of his shoulders. 

He’d never leave again, the phantom thought as he watched you sleep that night, curled around his arm as though he might ascend before you woke. There was a serenity in your soft features that had been noticeably missing in his absence, but it was there in your parted lips and gently settled brows as his fingers continued to rake through your hair. You hummed quietly in the midst of your slumber and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, and Satoru vowed he’d haunt you to your grave if it meant you’d never be apart again. 

You woke with a start the next morning, a gasp of your lover’s name tumbling from your lips as you shot up in bed. Tears were already threatening to pierce your eyes at the thought that what you had experienced last night was simply a dream— placed torturously into your psyche to feed the black hole of your grief. Whipping your head to the side, you were met with Satoru’s awaiting gaze as he sat against the headboard. Despite your startled state, his lips still curled up at the sight of your barely conscious appearance.

Your hair clung to your cheeks and swayed into your bleary eyes as you attempted to blink away the sleep. It almost gave an energy of a bear that had just risen from a week long hibernation, but he couldn’t blame you as he’d lain witness to the sleepless nights that had plagued you the past few weeks. The comforter slipped from your shoulders, bearing your silken skin and plush chest to him. Acting on a carnal instinct the sight of you seemed so expert at pulling from him, he grasped at the small of your back to pull you into him. 

Your contented hum drifted into his ears as you settled against him once again, your skin still warm with sleep as it pressed against his own. Satoru didn’t realize how much he had been missing when he was still alive and had the weight of the world on his shoulders— rarely ever having gotten the privilege of lazing beside you as you awoke in the mornings. Most of the time, he was still working when you laid your head down to sleep, and he was already gone by the time you woke up. He’d only steal gentle kisses against your temple and wanton brushes of his palms up your thighs and waist as you slept before he’d slip into bed beside you. Now, he was quickly realizing as you pressed lazy kisses against his chest, trailing up his neck and jaw, that those stolen intimacies and rushed affections were never enough. He’d haunt you forever, the ghost vowed once again. 

Your since somber days were filled with something comforting, and, despite the five years you two had spent together prior to his death, this connection was new and warm— exciting. At one point you had even joked with him that you never saw him this much when he was alive, and he could only smile teasingly at you as he watched you devour your breakfast. You ate with an urgency he hadn’t seen in you the last few weeks, and it settled the guilt in his stomach. No, Satoru wasn’t being selfish in holding onto you, this was for you. 

The two of you welcomed the days that followed with open arms. No matter how morbid the circumstances, it was a relief compared to the atrocities you’d faced when he was still the strongest. You watched the list of movies the two of you had always put off, stayed in bed until the late hours of the morning just to make love to each other, lounged pressed up against the other in the steaming bathtub until your fingers wrinkled and the water was as cold as his corpse. 

Satoru’s lips curled into an easy smile as you shivered against him. His large hands created a soft splash as he lifted them from the water to run them down your trembling shoulders. You tilted your head back against his chest to look up at him with pleading eyes. 

“C’mon, Toru, I need to get under the covers asap.” You laughed eagerly, moving to push yourself up. His brows furrowed, and he pulled you back against him. It was another little moment that he wished he could say he missed from his time of living, but it was an intimacy he rarely had the time to share with you. He curled his fingers around the plush flesh of your arms and pressed a soft kiss against the nape of your neck as if to coax you to stay just like this for a moment longer. You sighed softly, tilting your head forward to allow him more access to the delicate skin you prayed he’d continue to explore. “You’re not cold?”

This gave his ministrations pause. Attempting to erase the distraction of your scent from his senses, he tried to concentrate on how the water felt against his skin. Upon feeling his hesitation, you glanced back at him. His incandescent eyes peered down at you, and he could only meekly shake his head at your question. It was a stark reminder of what he was and what he wasn’t— one you’d gladly forgotten about in place of his presence. 

It was after this instance that you began to notice all the little changes, the parts of Satoru that were no longer there. His typical, overwhelming sweet tooth was eradicated, and it felt almost unnatural the way he watched you eat the chocolate chip pancakes that were once his favorite of your dishes, not once trying to steal an extra bite from your plate as was his norm, much less grabbing any for himself. You chewed uncomfortably, switching the mush of pancake from one cheek to another as he leaned his chin on his fist and watched you with a contented smile. Still, it was better than forcing food down your throat in his absence, so you swallowed your breakfast with a soft smile and accepted the kiss he pressed against the knuckle of your free hand. 

You tried to not think about what all these things meant. The way he didn’t eat, how his usually racing mouth was now always shut, how you’d awake in the middle of the night to find him simply staring down at you; it made your blood run cold. It was better than being alone, you told yourself. It was better than being without him. 

His looming gaze burned holes in your back as you searched through your cabinets for the ingredients to make the festive cookies you typically prepared each year when Halloween was approaching. Usually, Satoru would be hovering over your shoulder, dipping his fingers into the batter as you swatted him away. He’d hang his long frame over the kitchen island as if it were a hammock, head dangling over the side as he shouted random numbers at you in an attempt to throw off your measurements. Those glistening lips would curl up into a mischievous smile each time you’d turn around to glare half-heartedly at him— pleased that he’d stolen your attention back just as he wanted. 

It was silent now though as you turned around to meet his gaze. You puffed out some air, blowing your bangs from your face as you closed the cabinet. 

“I guess stepping out of this place for a little bit wouldn’t hurt.” You commented with a soft sigh. 

It had been months since you’ve seen another human being— much less left the house. Since Satoru’s sudden reemergence, and, truthfully, you didn’t feel you had a reason to ever leave again. There was only so long you could live with what you had at the house though. Looking down at your pajama-clad figure, you stood up to begin your trek to the room to change into something more presentable. Behind you, hurried footsteps followed after you. Just as you were about to shed your tank top, a quick hand caught your wrist. 

The frantic look in Satoru’s blue eyes unsettled you for the smallest fraction of a second— the way his snowy brows furrowed, nose scrunched up as if you’d just told him a joke of the poorest taste. A small gulp forced its way down your throat, but you managed a forced smile. 

“I’ve gotta get some groceries, Toru.” You laughed meekly, tugging your arm from his grasp. He blinked a few times at you as you fished out an old sweater of his to pull on. “Some of us around here still eat, you know.” 

He didn’t like the way you reminded him of his own mortality status. For the first time since his dominating haunting of you, he felt disconnected from you. It was the first time he thought about the fact that there was an entire world outside this house awaiting your return. The people and stories lying behind these four walls were vibrant, loud, alive. Satoru suddenly wondered if your days turned weeks of quiet, domestic tranquility would be enough. 

His feet seemed to move on their own accord as he followed you to the front door, wishing with everything in him that he could yell at you to stop, to not leave him behind. Reaching out in a haze, he slammed the front door that you had opened back shut. You flinched back with a start, turning to blink up at him in astonishment. There was barely a hint of anger or hostility left in his expression though. In its place was fear, desperation, and an eagerness to keep you anchored to the very place he himself was doomed to. There was only one thing that the world outside you and Satoru’s home didn’t have, and it was the only thing his spirit could offer you in exchange for your blind loyalty— himself. 

Easily pushing you back against the door, Satoru kissed you as he kept his own tears and doubts hidden— doubts about what his selfishness made him and what it would do to you, what it was already doing to you. He could feel it as his hands roamed down your waist and hips in their desperate pursuit to your thighs, that you were smaller than he last remembered you being. There was a hesitation in your reciprocating, but it was as if you could still hear him now, whispering to you through the wet smacks of your lips and the clashing of your teeth— 

Don’t leave me. He longed to beg of you as he sank down onto his knees before you. As his white lashes fluttered up and his glittering eyes peered up at you from his place, dragging anguished kisses up the exposed skin of your thighs, Satoru could only smile against your clothed heat. 

It was always his favorite thing to do— something he was so skilled at— drawing your attention right back to him. It was so clear in your wanton gaze down at him, with your brows drawn softly together as your chest rose and fell in tandem with his teasing kisses, that he had drawn you in once again, even if just for a moment longer. 

Your head bumped against the front door you were trying to leave through just moments ago as Satoru peeled the layers from your hips. Despite your angled head, your eyes strained to meet his gaze that had not once left yours since his descent down your body. There was a certain betrayal in them and a daringness that asked you how could you think to leave me behind? 

In the midst of your pleasured gasp as his fingers circled your entrance lovingly before plunging in with gusto, you didn’t notice the way his free hand crept up to lock the door once again before trailing down your arm and locking his fingers between yours. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” The apology spilled from your lips with a shaking gasp, eyes finally falling shut as his lips circled your clit in tandem with his digits’ massages against your walls. You weren’t sure why you had felt the need to apologize— it was your right, after all, wasn’t it? To continue living? To not die along with him? Still, the hungered whines that were pulled from him and fell against you told a different story, one that ended in a happily ever after even if that meant opening his casket to lay beside him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

They continued to fall from your lips as your high crept over you and molded you against the offending door. Just as you were about to slip past the final layer of sanity that grasped at you by the thinnest of threads, a sharp rap at the door had the waves of your release crashing unceremoniously to a halt in the depths of your stomach. With a startled, choked gasp, you fell forward, hands steadying you atop Satoru’s broad shoulders.

 His lips pried off you with a wet smack, and he tilted his head back to look at you— eyes wide and startled as if just reminded that it wasn’t just you two left in the world. Your chest heaved as you two stared at one another silently, and he shook his head— that familiar feeling of doubt creeping up in his chest. Your attention was drawn from him for the second time that day though as another knock sounded against the wood door, this one more urgent than the last.

Fighting against the guilt in your stomach at Satoru’s betrayed expression, you pushed off of him and quickly adjusted your clothes back over you. Wiping at your face as if it would give away your most recent escapades, you took an anxious breath in as you cracked the door open. 

The familiar sight of a tall, raven haired boy crashed against your anxiety with waves of relief— and it was slowly taken over by guilt with the reminder of the hundreds of texts and calls you’d avoided for so long. His fist was raised as if prepared to knock again, but it fell slowly upon seeing you through the crack of the door. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fall in tandem with the breath he released, his scarred face melting in relief before hardening once again. 

“Megumi—” Your meek greeting was cut off when he abruptly opened the door of your house fully and stepped in without another word. 

Unbridled fear gripped you as, for the first time since the start of your morbid affair, someone else stepped into the sacred space you and Satoru had carved out for yourselves in the past weeks. There were so many reasons you had left your loved ones in the dark— no answers about your wellbeing or needs in your time of grieving, but the most notable was the fact that you still didn’t know just what Satoru was now. Bringing someone else in posed the threat of losing him once again should your least desirable hypothesis be proven true— that he was merely a curse manifested in the wake of your grief. 

Watching with bated breath, Megumi closed the door behind him, and he was only inches from your lover. The phantom loomed over his shoulder with furrowed brows, but the boy made no indication that he had seen his dearly departed mentor standing a mere inches away from him, but, just for a moment, you thought you saw his lanky frame shake with the tiniest of shivers. If he suspected anything of the sudden intrusion, he didn’t mention it, instead casting his dark eyes around the house before settling on you once again. You released a quiet breath of relief. 

“You haven’t—” It was clear in his harsh tone that he was prepared to lecture you on your radio silence, but he stopped himself, forcing his hard features to soften a bit before looking back up at you. “I just— are you okay? Everyone’s been worried about you.”

You remained silent, watching the concern pool in his eyes as he assessed you up and down. Since the last time he’d seen you, you certainly appeared smaller, your cheeks sunken in and your collarbones more pronounced. Your eyes, the ones that once gazed at him with such fierce doting and concern for his own wellbeing were rimmed with dark circles that were more apparent against the way your skin had paled over the past weeks. In your silence, he shifted from one foot to the other.

“I’m worried about you.” Megumi finally admitted gruffly. “When was the last time you left the house? Talked to someone?” 

Your mouth opened and closed, eyes drifted over his shoulder to meet Satoru’s awaiting gaze. The boy in front of him followed your gaze, snapping back to you when he was met by nothing but air. 

“I-I’m fine, Megs.” You reassured with an unconvincing smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He spat as his expression hardened once again. His lashes fluttered angrily across his cheekbones as he blinked away the traitorous tears that threatened to burn at his eyes. 

It was his every intent to come here and be the strong one for you in Gojo’s absence. At the end of the day though, it wasn’t just you that had lost him. Megumi had lost his mentor, the only father figure he ever had. He figured the two of you would be grieving together— as doting on and endlessly embarrassing the boy had quickly become a team effort when you and Satoru got together. You filled the spaces that the six eyes couldn’t, lending an ear to problems your boyfriend never had the tact or grace to help out with himself. 

When Gojo died, Megumi never expected to lose you too. 

“You can’t expect me to go back to normal.” You explained, wanting nothing more than for him to leave. The reminder of how sickly you’d been coping with your loss was eating away at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be confronted by it any longer. “I lost my—”

“I lost him too, okay? Now don’t make me have to grieve you too— because I can’t.” Megumi was no longer looking you in the eyes, instead pretending that the various magnets on the fridge were far more interesting than your conversation. Slipping quickly down the side of his cheek though, you caught a glimpse of a rare tear before he furiously swiped it away. 

Suddenly, the guilt you were feeling was not for Satoru, or the pathetic means by which you’ve been holding onto him, but instead you felt an overwhelming contrition for the life you left behind in the midst of your coping, the people you left behind. You pushed past Satoru, paying no mind to the constricted expression on his face and pulled Megumi into a tight embrace. In his typical, nonchalant fashion though, his arms remained stiffly at his sides. Still, he buried his face into your shoulder for a brief second, allowing the grief to wash over the both of you, reminding each other that neither were ever alone in these uncharted waters. 

With a quick sniff, he pulled away from you in an attempt to collect himself. 

“Come on, let’s get lunch or something.” Megumi’s tone bordered on begging, but the man keeping you tied to this house had you biting your lip in contemplation. The boy sighed lowly at your apprehension. “Please, Gojo would have killed me if he knew I was letting you waste away like this. Come with me.” 

This revelation sliced through Satoru’s chest deeper than his fatal blow ever could have reached. For the first time since his mysterious return in your life, he looked past his need to be someone in your life, past the desire to keep you well past the time fate had allotted for the two of you, and he saw only a shell of the woman he loved. Now, you were shackled with one leg in his grave and the other tethered to your home— never able to stray too far. 

Without a care of how bizarre you appeared you peered right into Satoru’s awaiting eyes to find the stinging acceptance that you had been searching for. As if he could speak, the ghost gulped down any venomous words that threatened to spill out, as he turned on his heel and left you to make your decision. You watched the back of his head as he disappeared into the hallway, your bottom lip trembling in fear. If you walked out those doors, would he still be here when you got back? 

“Hey,” Megumi’s voice sounded distant, but the subtle desperation laced in it snapped you from your contemplative state. A tear raced down your cheek as you looked back at the boy. In his wide eyes, you saw the young boy who was blindly following Gojo into the world of jujutsu— the one who was too proud and scared of growing attached to admit that he was so grateful that above all else, you never pushed him to prove himself. There was never a conversation about how strong he had become, in its place were soft questions of if Gojo had given him a break that day, or if he had eaten. You were a rock to him for so long, and he recognized that look in your eye— the one that said you weren’t sure what was worth fighting for anymore. “Come on, I haven’t eaten today.”

Through the blur of your tears, you smiled wobbly at him, laughing tearfully as you reached up to smooth his hair down. This— you decided as you followed Megumi out the door for the first time in two months with your bag slung over your shoulder— was worth accepting grief for. 

Despite your coming to terms with the fact that reintroducing yourself into the life you’d built for yourself might mean truly letting go of Satoru in the process— fear gripped every nerve in your body as you returned home that night. You bid Megumi goodbye with a tight embrace once he’d helped you put your groceries away, and, with a promise that you’d answer your phone every once and a while, he left you alone in the house still haunted by your lover. 

Sweeping your gaze across the living room and kitchen— Satoru was nowhere to be found. A deep dread settled into the pits of your stomach, and you had to remind yourself that you weren’t at fault for choosing to continue living. No matter how many pep talks you gave yourself though, and how fulfilling it felt to have a purpose once again, even if just for a few hours, there was an undeniable feeling of loss that accompanied the fact that you and Satoru were left with no closure. 

“Toru?” You called out, your careful footsteps being the only, subtle noise echoing through the eerily silent house. The door of your bedroom creeked open under your palm’s hesitant push, but it too was barren. A familiar feeling of helplessness began to rise within your chest. It was the sensation that the very essence of what seemed to hold your world together was slipping past your fingers as though grains of sand in perilous tides. No matter how hard or desperately you squeezed your fists together— it was leaving you to be washed away by a greater power. “Satoru, this isn’t funny!”

The stinging tears that flowed down your cheeks were angry— offended that he’d leave you behind once again like this. Just like the first time, he’d left no warning, no explanation or preparation for his abrupt departure. It was a betrayal like no other, and you kicked open the door of the bathroom with all the anger it burned within you. The knob slammed against the wall, undoubtedly leaving an ugly hole in its wake, but the sight of the empty restroom was a far more grueling vision to behold. 

“Please, I’m sorry I left.” You cried into the empty space as you walked in further to rip the curtain of the shower back as if he would pop out from his hiding spot at any moment. Your knees buckled underneath you, and you curled into yourself against the cold tile flooring. There was a persistent pounding in your skull as your sobs shook your body, and, for a moment, you considered calling Megumi back to take you Jujutsu High— fearing what your mind may whisper to you in the midst of your breakdown. Your nails dug crescent shaped marks into your arms as you tried to grasp onto any sense of reality. “Come back. Please come back.”

There was a pregnant silence behind your shaking sobs that blanketed over the frigid bathroom for just a moment longer before the shattering of glass let you know you weren’t alone. You jolted up with a strangled scream at the sound, your arms coming up to shield you from the shards of broken glass the richocheted from the wall. Once it had finally settled, you slowly lowered your arms, eyes focusing on the larger shard that had fallen in front of you. From its reflection, Satoru’s piercing eyes stared back at you— a certain peace in them that wasn’t there when you’d last seen them. 

You quickly lifted your head, mouth agape at the sight of the phantom, still there, still with you. With your legs moving on their own accord, shards of glass pierced through your knees as you moved to pull yourself up, the unmistakable sensation of blood seeping onto your skin. Satoru squatted down, silently halting your movements. His eyes never left yours as he picked up a small envelope from the pile of glass. You hadn’t noticed it before— too transfixed on his still being there. 

Any words you wished to spew out to him died in your throat as he handed the envelope to you, and after a moment, you finally broke the intense eye contact you had been maintaining with him to look down at it. It had your name scribbled across the front. Without a doubt, you instantly recognized it as Satoru’s familiar penmanship. Your brows furrowed as your trembling fingers grasped onto the paper in confusion. The man before you could only watch, his stillness inviting you to rip open the damned paper, so you did.

You can’t tell anyone that I was too scared to say goodbye to you in person— I’m still supposed to be the strongest, you know (even if I went out like a total LOSER). I’m sorry to have left like this, but I think if you had asked me not to go, I might have actually listened. Quite the accomplishment, sweetcheeks, being the one person Gojo Satoru ever truly feared.

I’ll always love you and the life we were working to build, even if I won’t be around to see how you make it your own.

Please don’t waste the rest of your life looking at my reflection. 

(Seriously, don’t make me haunt you)

Your Toru.

The black ink before you smudged as your tears fell onto the page. You read it over and over again, unsure if the feeling crashing into you was still grief, or if the hint of relief washing over your system was real. Had your closure been here all along— hidden behind the damned mirror you stared mindlessly into for weeks?

“I didn’t want you to let me go.” 

You were sure you had begun hallucinating as Satoru’s melodic voice swam into your ears, filling you with a comfort you had been missing for far too long. Finally tearing your gaze from the letter, you looked up at him, mouth agape. As he stared back at you, there was a certain lightness that seemed to fill the air around him, and he knew his time with you was limited. 

“I figured you’d find it eventually. I just… I wanted you to hold onto me for a little longer.” He admitted before staring up at the now barren wall that once held that damned mirror. With a humorless laugh, he rolled his eyes at his own selfishness. “So much for the strongest, am I right?”

“Toru,” You whispered, fiercely blinking back the tears that dared blur your vision of him. He caught you as you threw your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. “I never needed you to be the strongest. I just wanted to know you were there— that what you left behind meant something to you.”

“It meant everything. You meant everything to me.” Satoru reassured, and as he opened his eyes, he could no longer see the sink, or the tub, the tiles; he only saw your trembling figure crouched beside him. Closure—  he knew what it would mean, but he was now willing to be left behind if it meant you got to move forward. 

“Are you leaving?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. 

“Afraid so—  but do me a favor, yeah?” He pulled back to smile fondly down at you, wiping at the tears under your eyes. You nodded dumbly at him as he brushed your hair behind your ears. “Get a new mirror, and stop looking for me in it, okay?”

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you laughed breathlessly at his words.

“Okay.” You choked out in agreement, closing your eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. A sly smile spread across his lips as he looked down at you one last time. 

“It was never as good as the real thing anyway.”

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[redr0sewrites]

I loved your Sounding HCs post for the Batboys! But you won't mind making aftercare HCs for Nightwing (preferably for him to be the sub in this situation)?

🥀A/n: AWHWHEHE TYSMM!!! ofc i dont mind, i love writing aftercare hcs soo much ♥️

🥀Cw: mostly fluff, a little suggestive/allusions to sex, not proofread sooooo yea 😭

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader

🥀minors dni

after subbing, Dick is definitely a lot more vulnerable during aftercare

theres a high chance of him being in subspace or at least a little out of focus, and he would prefer for you to stay close until he becomes more conscious. if you try to get up before he's really ready, he may cry or think your mad/want to leave him- ESPECIALLY if he was being bratty. he's a lot more insecure than usual, pls praise him :(

veryyyy clingy and cuddly. even though you both know you have to get up and clean, Dick does not want to let you go.

loves just laying on top of you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. he's barely awake after just a few minutes, more than content to fall asleep with a mess still between his legs and cum staining the sheets. you have to pry him off of you to go get stuff to clean up, and he will complain about you "leaving him to rot alone forever"

needs a lot of praise and attention, especially after subbing. Dick can't help but feel a little anxious after sex, and he just needs that extra reassurance. this is especially true after a rough session or being degraded, as he cares a lot about what you think of him

Dick also praises you a lot, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and pulling you impossibly close. he's a lot more romantic after sex rather than flirtatious, and wants you to know that he loves you and trusts you a lot

loves bathing/showering with you!! complains about getting put of bed, but once you both are in the tub or shower he's all clingy and sweet. loves when you wash his hair or massage his scalp for him, and will gladly wash you off in return

steals your fancy soaps and hair products, claiming its only fair after you were so rough with him

theres a high chance of him falling asleep on you in the bath, with his arms around you waist and his head tucked into the crook of your neck

will try to get you to carry him back to bed, but only jokingly. if you actually picked him up he'd feel bad (but would also find it a bit hot)

offers to help you change the sheets or clean the bed and refuses to take no for an answer. Dick could literally be exhausted and shaking from overstimulation and will still try to do his best to help you out. its partially because he doesn't want to seem lazy or vulnerable and doesn't want to be weak, and partially because he doesn't want you to think that he expects you to do all the work after sex. this is also the case even if he's dominant, this man refuses to let you do all the work and is insistent on helping out

this is just my personal hc but i think Dick is not the type to put clothes on after sex, he just sleeps naked. i feel like he normally sleeps w clothes on but after sex he just doesn't really see the need to, especially if theres going to be another round in the morning (which their often is). he doesn't care whether or not you wear clothes but he is definitely sleeping naked besides you

still very clingy!!! Dick always falls asleep first after subbing, he really can't help it. if you also sleep naked he's a bit excited about the simple body contact, and like sleeping as close as possible

i think Dick is the type to be very babbly after sex, your someone he trusts and he just loves talking to you. he's asking you random questions, whispering how much he loves you, and acting drunkenly sweet. it almost makes you think that he is actually intoxicated because of how honest he becomes, hut you soon realize that it's actually just a sign of how comfortable he is and it makes him feel safe

asks "would you love me if i was a worm" unironically and would get sad if you said no ☹️ (say yes you absolute monster)

definitely falls asleep mid sentence too, one second he's talking about how much he loves you and the next second he's drifting off to sleep

not to make this nsfw, but i def think Dick is into somno and is def the type to have wet dreams even after sex, especially when he's subbing. sometimes he wakes you up in the night feeling really needy (or you just wake up to him humping your thigh..) and that will lead to another round so... yea (i need him so bad oml i really want to write this now. if anyone would want to hear me elaborate... 😇)

AAAA HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYEDDD!!! i love doing aftercare hcs so so sooo much so pls feel free to send in more!!! also if anyone wants to hear my absolutely insane totally not self indulgent yapping about somno w Dick i am more than happy to oblige 😇😇😇 anyways!!! pls send in requests!!!! plspldpslsplsls please!!!!

[raythekiller]

hi there, i just wanna say i really love your writing 😭😭 i hope u’ve been doing well too!

cld i request.. your hcs on what u think the creepypastas’ ideal S/O’s wld be like? maybe hobbies, or mbti types, or stuff in detail.. hehe

🗒 ❛ Their Ideal S/O ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: ty!! I don't think any of them would care for hobbies, so this is more personality wise. I also added the MBTI's :)

pronouns used: they/them

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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

Honestly, he's a little complicated to figure out, and I think he doesn't even know what he wants. While he would love a partner that is completely dependent on him and pays attention to no one else, he hates partners that are too clingy and need a lot of attention. If you need reassurance that he loves you or get offended easily, it's a hard no. He wants someone easy to manipulate and who'll do whatever he says, almost worshiping him, but also has tough skin. An introvert would also be best, as it would mean they don't have many other people they are close to. As for MBTI, maybe an INTP would be best suited for him.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

In all honesty, he doesn't take dating very seriously and would prefer a partner that doesn't, either. He hates having to be deliberate about pretty much anything, so someone who's all about fun and not afraid of letting loose would be perfect. Also, someone a bit pervy. I said it before that I think he got stuck in that pre pubescent boy mentality after he died, and we all know how those kids are. Basically, he's looking for a copy of himself: someone generally fun to be around and a bit out of pocket. For MBTI, a xNFP would be best (either introverted or extroverted, he doesn't care).

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

He needs someone gentle, caring and understanding, not only to him but to others as well (mostly to him, though). His partner must feel like the light at the end of the tunnel, the Sun after a storm, someone who gives him hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be better. He didn't have much compassion in his life, both growing up and now in the manor, so someone who gives him that will undoubtedly become the love of his life. Also, preferably they won't mind being suffocated by his affection a little. He's quite clingy, so you won't get much alone time. For MBTI, his ideal type would be an ESFJ.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

He would like someone a little like himself. Quiet, a bit nerdy, calm and collected. Someone to give him a little bit of the peace he's been craving for so long. Most of all, though, he needs someone that can reassure him. To tell him that he's not a monster and that he's loved and cared for, not only say it but show as well. He can get quite self conscious at times, so a person that is patient with him and his insecurities would be perfect. Also, he doesn't show it, but he's severely touch starved, so someone a bit too cuddly would steal his heart in seconds. As for MBTI, an ISTJ would be perfect.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Laughing Jack

Not gonna lie, he needs someone a bit bossy. He's used to just doing whatever he wants when he wants, so someone scolding him and putting him in his place would catch him off guard, but in a good way if that makes sense. Like EJ, lots of reassurance. He needs you to tell him you're not going anywhere almost constantly and gets insecure quite often, so please be patient. But back to the bossy thing, telling what to do goes a long way with this guy for some reason. Generally, someone who's more dominant but can still be gentle. Also, they should probably be okay with PDA, because it's gonna happen whether they like it or not. For MBTI, an ENFP.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Weirdly enough, pretty similar to LJ. He thinks he would like someone obedient and submissive, but his last crushes say otherwise. In reality, he needs someone who can stand their ground when he gives them some shit, not just sit there and take it. Someone opinionated and who's not afraid to speak their mind. Hell, kick his ass if you have to, he'll be into that shit. Also, they have to be kind of a ride or die. Tim doesn't do relationship lightly, and he expects you not to, either. Someone who's willing to give him a lot of praise also goes a long way. He has a massive ego, so feeding into it is definitely going to earn you some affection points. For MBTI, an ISTP.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

Now this motherfucker has the biggest corruption kink known to man, so he normally goes after people he considers cute and fragile. Being patient while trying to communicate with him is a HUGE bonus. If you try to learn ASL because of him he's getting on one knee right then and there. Likes people who are chatty, but also thinks quiet people are adorable, so it's a win-win for either. Wants someone who wouldn't question him much (the phrase he tells them most often is "Come on, don't you trust me?") and is a bit naive and easy to manipulate. As for MBTI, a xNFP.

[pablitogavii]

I'm sure

"I told you it's not a good time to talk about this!" Pablo was groaning while you paced around his room angrily feeling both frustrated and tired from him.

"It's never a good time for you! When you want to be between my legs it's a perfectly good time but when I want to talk seriously about us, you're tired..or you had a hard training session..or freaking aliens invaded the platen Earth!" you said relying on sarcasm as you defense mechanism.

Truth being told, what you and Pablo had was nothing short of perfect...he was your childhood friend...your parents are really close...he protected you from all the boys in high school and now he became your man...or did he?

You were starting to feel very self conscious that many girls flirt with him thinking he is single, and even though eh never responds to it, it angers you that you're not official. You never really had a talk about it.

"Amor please! I literally can't feel my legs right now!" he said and that only angered you more. You wanted answers NOW and weren't backing up until you got them!

"Don't "amor" me Pablo! I couldn't feel my legs last night when you were in the mood for more but I still wanted to make you happy!" you blurred out not even realizing what you said until you saw his smirking face. Not the right time Gavira!

"I'm just that good, amor" he winked and you rolled your eyes really not in the mood for this right now. He needs to take you seriously!

"FUCK YOU GAVI! I'm done! You hear...DONE!" you grabbed your hoodie from the chair about to walk out of his room but he was already by the door blocking your exit path.

"I'm sorry amorcito..please..stay..I didn't mean to upset you this much..and don't call me Gavi..please?" his puppy dog eyes were working and you hated that fact. He raised up your head and you sighed shrugging your shoulders and walking back to sit in the chair.

"Please..come here???" he said opening up the comforter for you and you sighed moving towards the bed and slipping in still keeping your distance from his warm inviting body. Ughh how badly you wanted to cuddle him right now!!!

"If you're not sure about me...just say it...and maybe I can find someone who is" you spoke feeling your own heart break at the thought of being with anyone besides Pablo. He was your first and only boyfriend...one who took your first time...one who owns both you body and heart. Deep down you didn't want to lose that...

"W..what did you say to me!?" his dominant personality got triggered by that statement as his mind got clouded with images of another man having you...having what's only ever been his.

"I said..I can find someone else???" you smirked knowing that will get to his last nerve and it did as he was already on top of you growling and pulling your legs around his torso.

"I thought your legs were hurting???" you teased but he was in no mood gripping your things and making you whimper. FUck! You LOVED when he got like that!!!

"You can't do that!" he was yelling despite the fact we were in his house and his parents were right down stairs. Boy didn't care about anything anymore those words really sobering him up good right now!!!

"Why not???" you played dumb and he knew you were waiting for his words slowly raising up your hips to rub against him. FUck you were always such a fucking tease!!!

"I was the first one...hm...to get inside that tight little pussy...and stretch it up really nice for me...it belong to me princesa...you..you belong to me" he was doing his best not to groan when you teased him repeatedly trying to stay quiet enough not to be heard downstairs.

"And yet nobody knows that...do you know how many guys walk up to me thinking I'm single..wanting to take me back to their home...hm and bury themselves deep inside of your pussy?" you whispered into his ear licking it afterwards and he had to let out a groan after that.

"Amor! Behave!" he said sternly and you giggled rolling your eyes adn shaking your head no' playfully. He was mistaken if he thought you were gonna let him go so easily.

"Or what? I'm a single girl...I might let them?" you smirk and this time he lost it gripping your neck and moving down close to your face.

"You're mine! Only MINE!!!" he growled before kissing your lips feverishly biting your lower lip aggressively that you whimpered in pain mixed with pleasure. YOu were slowly melting into his hands...fuck!

"Are you sure about that???" you said and he shook his head realizing that no matter what, you always get what you want...you really got him wrapped around your little finger.

"I'm sure! My girlfriend!" he yelled before kissing your lips and slowly moving down your neck and chest marking up your skin while you smiled satisfied for hearing those words leave his mouth ;)))

[paimonial-rage]

cocky bastard vibes - zhongli

ship: zhongli x reader

synopsis: in which reader shares their free thoughts on the liyue statue of seven

notes: standalone snippet part of the bookkeeping!verse

It was a beautiful day in Liyue. The grass was a luscious green and the birds were singing a beautiful song. After a nice stay at the Emerald Maple Inn, you and Mr. Zhongli decided to have a cup of tea next to the Statue of the Seven before heading on your way to Qingce Village. You were to accompany him to pick up supplies for the next funeral rite, and with the way the morning was going, you knew nothing would ruin this peaceful day.

"So how much do you want to bet that Rex Lapis was hot and knew it?”

You ignored the choked sound that came from your side as you gazed up at the picturesque statue. Though your companion would probably consider your question quite out of the blue, you couldn’t say it was the first time you wondered such a thing. Whenever you passed by one of them in Liyue, the thought always plagued your mind for a few hours after. Judging by Mr. Zhongli’s reaction, though, it seemed he did not share your sentiments.

"Ehem… That… certainly is an interesting thought. I can’t say whether or not previous records touched on such a topic."

You hummed, gazing up at the statue. Really? That couldn’t be true. Why wouldn’t anyone talk about a statue looking like that?

“Well there are many reasons why I’d say I’m right. First off, his outfit. He has a hooded cloak on while also being shirtless. There’s absolutely no logical reason to dress like that unless they’re from the deserts of Sumeru, wouldn’t you say? It obviously was a conscious fashion decision. If you pair that with the seductive way he’s sitting, I’d be inclined to assume he’s quite clearly feeling his look.”

Silence came from your side. Hm, Mr. Zhongli still wasn’t convinced? Then you would go on.

“You do see it, right? His posture is relaxed, yet confident. Not to mention the way he’s looking at that cube in his hand with practically bedroom eyes. His knees are apart too. My friend from Sumeru told me that when a man sits like that, he’s displaying his dominance.”

Still silence.

"You can't sit in a seductive pose like that without on some level being aware you look good doing it. I mean look at him! He's shirtless and everything! I've heard even macho fishermen say that they pray to the statue for a good night before coming home to see their wives. You can’t blame them, right?"

A hesitant cough.

"I-I'm sure it was a younger time when those statues were sculpted."

You groaned.

"Maybe, but you’re not even looking! If you did, you’d agree with me that Rex Lapis is clearly exuding such massive 'cocky bastard' vibes!" You countered.

For some reason, the more you spoke, the more flustered he became.

"C'mon, Mr. Zhongli! Why are you so embarrassed? It's not like I'm slandering his good name! I mean, if Rex Lapis didn't want us talking about him like this, maybe he shouldn't have made a statue with abs clean enough to eat off of!"

Okay, maybe at this point, you were piling it on a bit thick. Could anyone blame you? His face was in his hand as if he had a headache, and were his ears tinged the slightest hint of red? It was an interesting sight. Never had you seen him look so completely flustered. Sure you were rather blunt, but you didn't think your words were that provocative. Mr. Zhongli really was practically a 65 year old man.

"I thought you respected the Geo Archon…" He muttered weakly.

You gasped in offense.

"I do! I’d even consider my words the utmost of pious behavior. In Mondstadt, the sisters of the church consider themselves married to Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. So finding the Geo Archon to be a sex god is pretty much the same thing, right?”

“No, it is not.”