#if you do I have to ask why you have a tumblr

[side-by-side-sideblog]

As a butch individual I will not like you, fuck you, talk to you, make friends with you, or entertain you if you hate men, neither will my partner and other butches I know. It is not progressive, man hating isn't queer culture, because men are queer culture. Men are why I am masc, they accepted my masculinity first, lesbians were butch and masculine phobic to me for 8 years till I figured my shit out. I know that isn't the norm, but it isn't rare either.

These people put me back in the closet over and over. They don't support gender or sex being a spectrum, if they do they're showing no signs of it. They think saying men dni will stop guys who harass people but they don't stop because they don't care about consent and a dni doesn't change that. There are plenty of girl bloggers who also don't respect consent and send people gore and threats over minor disagreements. We don't go after them hardly at all in comparison considering we have people who've been doing that since 2016 and earlier that people still reblog and uplift because they're women. Men doing that on here don't get that treatment, because it's rightfully wrong. Most other sites white non queer men do getaway with that more while women don't, the Tumblr user base reversing that isn't progressive, because cis white women here get more slack then anyone else because trans fems, trans mascs, intersex people, and non white people get the "evil" tag over small shit, let alone actual bad things.

We teach in current society that men are incapable of consent, as if it's in their nature. This isn't true, but it sure does create a lot of guys who lack boundaries. That doesn’t mean Man = Bad it means society saying Man = Wild Beast is bad. A man is just whoever identifies as one, and identifying as a man has nothing to do with lack of consent, or toxic masculinity. I sometimes wonder if I identify as butch in a man way, idk, and I don't care, I am who I am, and women are who I spend time with in a queer way. My closeness to masculinity isn't traitor behavior. Femininity isn't Divinity, I do not worship women. Masculinity isn't an Ignominity, I do not criminalize men. Masculinity is also not Divinity, and Femininity isn't an Ignominity. Both can be fallible at times when the conditions are right, but they are neutral markers.

To make man = good we do that by just changing ourselves and our ideas of masculinity being bad, then we teach it to everyone else, including kids, friends, partners, and parents. When people stop the "boys will be boys" then more men will be taught consent.

I have an actual irrational hatred for a character that makes me burst into anger and hour long rants (not joking) because I see him as the epitome of toxic masculinity. Seeing him in a profile picture can ruin my day, but I do not put him in a dni list because I am not going to blame fans of him for my distaste in how the media itself supports his bad actions as good. Just like if I get harassed by men who lack consent, I will not blame all men and put men dni.

Saying "I block ＿" is better anyway.

Plus, how can you know someone's a woman? Not everyone has pronouns listed, gender listed, or just a big neon sign saying "I'm a woman." you will have no idea if people are respecting your frankly outrageous ask of who can follow or reblog your posts.

Men on this site who respect women and reblog posts do exist, and there are a lot of them. Also trans eggs who are on this site are not going to figure themselves out through media like mlp, she-ra, and whatever you post by saying men dni. My trans sister cracked her egg six months ago, so for her blog she would have steered clear of men dni disclaimers and probably blocked them out of respect. Now how does she undo that, go through her entire block list? That would be crazy work for people who wouldn't have respected her pre transition (which they didn't, not even other trans girls or queer gurls in highschool did, only now would they support her. That's what man hating does to people.)

There is no simple solution to keeping people away, oh wait... It's called blocking.

tldr; Having a dni for an entire demographic of people just for the flaws of a few inside doesn't work. It never will. People who don't care about consent will breach it to hurt you.

if you have "cishet men dni" in your bio i, a trans man, will not touch you with a 10 foot pole. i should not be forced to out myself as a trans man just to interact with you. on top of that, cishet men are not inherently evil. stop trying to reinvent bioessentialism with your "girl good, boy bad!" mentality.

[hcverns]

Risks Taken

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, minghao is mentioned

word count: 9.4k

warnings: mentions of drinking, cursing, some spice (making out)

genre: angst, fluff (basically angsty stuff with a happy ending), best friends to lovers.

synopsis: in the midst of enjoying his blissful saturday night with you and a romance movie, his world suddenly stopped spinning when you mentioned another guy's name.

a/n: hi oh my god i'm so nervous. this is literally my first fanfic i've ever written. i wrote this for my best friend and i asked her permission to post it on tumblr and she said yes so here i am :) i apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes or any mistake at all, really. likes, replies and reblogs would be much appreciated. much love <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was Saturday night. The TV was on in your living room. A rom-com movie was playing on the screen. What was the title, he wasn’t sure. But it was quite entertaining. He had underestimated your choice of movie at first, but you had begged him so nicely with those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Who could blame him for giving in to his best friend’s request?

So here you two were. Relaxing on the couch while watching a movie. There were a bunch of snacks on the coffee table in front of you. You were sitting side by side, both your feet resting on top of the coffee table without a single care with just the right amount of distance separating the two of you. Just a perfect Saturday night.

Jeonghan stretched his arm to reach for a bag of gummy bears on the table, only to find none of it.

“What the— Hey, did you finish all the gummy bears?” He asked you who were sitting beside him on the couch but his question was responded by silence.

He sighed and shook his head slightly. He turned his gaze to you only to notice that your eyes were focused on the TV screen. Instead of calling you out for finishing the gummy bears, he looked at your features in silence. A small smile appeared on his lips unintentionally. He noticed your hair had gotten longer. It almost reached your shoulders.

He remembered the time when you had cut your hair short. Like short, short. Masculine type of short hair. You’d been so excited to show him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t ever forget the happiness in your eyes when you facetimed him to proudly show him your brand new look. And it really surprised him with how beautiful you looked with that hair. Your excitement and confidence really added into it. He was happy to witness you being brave enough to look different, to look bold, to express yourself just like you had wanted to.

He snapped back to reality when you squealed like a schoolgirl.

“Han, they’re gonna kiss. They’re gonna kiss!” You said in excitement.

Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “What?”

“They’re gonna freaking kiss! You heard me.” You repeated yourself without turning your gaze in the slightest bit.

“How do you know?”

“How could I not? I’ve watched this befo— AAHH! They kiss! See?” You turned your head to him with the biggest smile on your face.

Jeonghan had to fight the urge to say “so fucking adorable” out loud at the sight of his best friend’s smiley face. Instead, he decided to ask you, “You’ve watched this movie before?”

You simply nodded.

“And you’re watching it again?”

You nodded your head again.

He sighed. “Why?”

You jerked your head back in confusion. “What do you mean 'why?'”

“You’ve watched this movie before. Why are you watching it again? What’s the point of watching the same movie twice?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. To you, it sounded so dumb. “Han, have you watched this movie before?”

Jeonghan shook his head.

“That’s why I chose this movie for our movie night. This movie is so good I couldn’t help but share the experience of watching this masterpiece with you. You should’ve thanked me, you know?”

Jeonghan chuckled a little. You really knew how to respond to literally anything. But he really needed to know why you were willing to watch the same movie more than once, so he questioned you again, “Yeah, but why are you willing to watch it again?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh boy. Just be quiet, yeah? You’ve watched ‘The Glory’ more than once as well, remember? And it’s a series. A goddamn series!” You laughed sarcastically.

He laughed as well. You got a point. He remembered when he had finished watching ‘The Glory’ for the first time and he couldn’t help but watch the said series again for the second time the very next day.

“You’re silent now, huh?” Your lips formed into a smirk.

“Shut up.” He brushed you off. The trace of his smile was still visible on his lips.

“Anyway, (Y/N), since you were very focused on two people kissing on the screen, let me ask you again. Did you finish all the gummy bears?” He raised his eyebrow.

“That… I did, yeah.” You admitted that it made Jeonghan groan.

“Well, you know what, I think I still have some in the cabinet. I’ll grab ‘em for you.” You quickly added when Jeonghan started to groan. He really did want some gummy bears, it seemed.

A smile quickly appeared on his face. “Wait, really? Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it myself. You keep going with your ‘Lovely Rosie.’” Jeonghan got up from the couch and made his way to your kitchen.

“It’s 'Love, Rosie' you jerk!” You yelled from the living room that made him laugh.

Jeonghan opened one of the hanging cabinets’ doors where you usually kept your snacks. He didn’t have to guess which one because he had been in your place many, many times.

Ever since you had started being best friends, which was roughly six years ago, you had this one night in a week, usually on Saturday night, where you just chilled and watched movies together. Of course it didn’t happen literally once in a week because, as responsible adults, you two sometimes were busy with something. But still, it was a tradition for you.

Jeonghan finally found two large bags of gummy bears in the cabinet. He smiled brightly as he held them with his right hand. He immediately walked himself back to the living room. He was so ready to plop himself on the couch before he took a quick look at you, who apparently were focused on your phone, rather than the TV screen, with a big smile on your face.

Jeonghan furrowed his brows. ‘Why is she ignoring the movie without even pausing it and why is she smiling so damn big now while staring at her phone?’ He wondered inwardly.

He slowly sat himself down on the couch. His best friend’s attention was still on her phone. He noticed your fingers typing something, seemingly.

He waited for a few seconds (which felt like hours) for you to turn your attention to him. Or the TV screen. Or the freaking gummy bears in his hand. Anything but your phone. He got a bad, bad feeling.

His curiosity piqued. He couldn’t help but ask you about it. “You’re texting someone?”

“Yup.” You answered with just one word. But this one word was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart sting a little.

“Oh.” That was all he said. He didn’t want to seem nosy so he didn’t push you to tell him who you were  texting. But not gonna lie, there was a slight pang of hurt in his chest. ‘Who are you texting? Why are you smiling so bright right now?’ He questioned again.

He tried to ease his own worry by forcing himself to think positively. ‘That could be her mom. But who on earth texts their mom with a smile like that??’ The attempt to clear the fog on his brain failed miserably.

“Who?” The word just slipped out of his mouth because apparently he ran out of his self control.

You didn’t answer him immediately and that almost drove him insane.

After a few seconds of you smiling and typing and him resisting the urge to just snatch your phone himself (which again, felt like fucking hours to him), you put your phone down on the couch beside your thigh.

You looked at him, still with a smile on your face. If it were under different circumstances, he would smile back at you. Why wouldn’t he? Your smile was his favorite thing ever after all.

Instead of smiling like he usually did, he raised his eyebrow as a sign that he was waiting for an explanation.

“Sorry, sorry. What was it again?” you innocently asked him to repeat his question.

Without wasting a millisecond, he uttered what was on his curious mind. “Who were you texting?”

Your facial expression turned shy. Exactly like someone who was thinking of their crush. And the pain in his chest increased.

“It’s just… someone.”

“Someone who?” He responded quickly. Demanding for a real and clear answer.

“Was it a guy?” He hoped you couldn’t notice the jealousy in his tone.

And what he hoped for was exactly what happened, but at what cost? You were completely oblivious of his jealousy. A shy smile made an appearance on your pretty face and it was enough to confirm Jeonghan’s bad feeling.

You took a deep breath before answering him. “So, his name is Minghao…”

Jeonghan swore he could feel his heart stop for a second. You mentioning the guy’s name that you had been texting with felt like a stab to his heart. No, that can’t be. He refused to believe it. He really wanted to pull his own hair in frustration but he chose to stay silent as you continued talking about this Minghao guy.

“He’s a barista in Franky n Co, the coffee shop I work in.” Your face got slightly red as you were talking about Minghao to your best friend.

Jeonghan was using all his power to keep a straight face. He even tried to smile a little as a way to make you believe that he wasn’t jealous at all. “Are you guys dating or something?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “N-no. We’re not dating. At least not yet, I hope.” A shy smile appeared again on your face at the end of your sentence.

“So… you like him?”

“Well, yeah. Let’s just say that me and Minghao are in a… what’s it called? Talking stage? Yeah. We’re currently in a talking stage.” You smiled widely as you explained to him what this Minghao guy was to you and it made his blood fucking boiling.

“So he likes you too?” The smile on his face right now was the fakest smile in the whole damn universe. In his mind, he was clenching his fists very tightly to the point that his fingernails hurt the palm of his hands.

Your smile faltered as you were reminded of the uncertainty of Minghao’s feelings for you. “Uh, I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve gone on two dates and they went pretty well. But he hasn’t told me whether he likes me or not and vice versa.”

When he felt his heart was stabbed earlier, this time it felt like the knife had been twisted and made the pain tenfold. ‘Dates. They had gone on two dates. Two fucking dates.’ Jeonghan was on the brink of insanity.

“You two have gone on dates? Tell me about it.” He was scared for a second that you would catch up on the sarcasm that lingered on his words.

You didn’t, though. Jeonghan didn’t know he should be grateful or hateful at your unawareness. Your eyes got excited as you were going to tell him about your dates with Minghao.

“First, it was a movie date. We went to the cinema after we finished our shift. And the second one was three days ago. It was an ice cream date..? I mean, we just went to an ice cream shop after work and we talked about several topics while eating ice cream. And he held my hand all the way home.”

Your voice was so dreamy. It sounded so sweet. If only you were talking about him in that manner rather than Minghao. He didn’t need to hear all those details. He wanted to throw up. He felt sick to his stomach. ‘That coffee maker even had a chance to hold her hand? All the way home??’

Jeonghan didn’t know what this Minghao guy looked like. He didn’t know his personality as well but he really, really wanted to punch him in the face right now.

“That sounds so cute. A movie date and an ice cream date? How adorable.” His words were completely opposite of what was truly on his mind.

“Right! Do you think he likes me back?” you asked him a question that sounds so ridiculous to him. But all he did was shrug his shoulders slightly.

“He could.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you asked him again with eyes full of hope.

‘Hell fucking no.’ That was what he wanted to say. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let that happen. He didn’t want to ruin your mood like that. So he just nodded instead.

Then, the unexpected happened. Something that made Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. Something that made his jealousy and rage calm down even though only a bit. You squealed and threw yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The hug was short, he couldn't help but long for it again when you let go.

“Thank you for convincing me that there’s a possibility of Minghao liking me back. You’re the best, Han!”

Then it came back again. The jealousy and anger. Your smallest words and acts could really put him on a wild roller coaster ride.

Jeonghan swore he didn’t mean it. He just lost control over his movement. He couldn’t think straight so he let his heart take the lead this time.

As a response to you thanking him, he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

And when he heard your small gasp, he knew he fucked up.

“What was that for?” you asked in disbelief.

Jeonghan played dumb by asking you back, “What was what for?”

“Why did you roll your eyes and scoff like that, Han?” He could hear the slight sadness in your tone.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fucking hell. Should he say it? There’s no use in hiding it anymore, right?

He was fighting a battle in his own head now. He sat in silence as his brain was working really hard to decide what his response should be.

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

He quickly looked at you when you called him by his full name like that. He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to leave your place, got in his car and drove himself to the highway at the speed of a hundred miles an hour while ignoring the red lights.

“What did you even see in him, anyway?” His heart took full control of his mouth now. He really did say the exact thing on his mind without a filter.

“Excuse me?”

Offended. Disbelief. Bewilderment. Confusion. A hint of anger. Jeonghan could see those emotions mixed into one on your face.

“You heard me right.” He didn’t back down. No lame excuses such as “Sorry, I was possessed by an unknown spirit that’s why I was spewing bullshit.” or “Oh, I was just reciting a line from a movie.” Nothing.

“What the fuck?”

He had it coming. He knew you would respond harshly. Those three words were enough to make the pain on his chest more intense. He didn’t say anything in return. He just looked down at the carpet beneath his feet in embarrassment and jealousy. The gummy bears he had taken earlier were long forgotten, just like the movie.

“Han, explain!” you raised your voice just a little at your best friend’s silence.

You snapped. So he did too.

“I don’t like the fact that you like that guy, whatever his name is, okay?”

If he thought that his heart was taking full control of the way he acted and spoke, he was wrong. His head was also taking control. His heart and his head were equally in chaos and clouded by jealousy. So he was sure that the words he just said to you were justified.

And he lied, by the way. He knew exactly the name of that guy.

Meanwhile, you felt like a punch had landed straight on your chest. Your brain couldn’t process the words that came out of Jeonghan’s mouth just now. You didn’t even know how to feel. Of course, you were confused as hell. But other than that, you weren't even sure. Should you feel sad? Angry? What?

“B-but why?”

The way you stuttered was almost enough for his heart to soften and to make him apologize to you immediately. Right, almost. Not entirely, no. Jealousy was still consuming his heart and head.

Jeonghan got a brief and sudden flashback to when his little heart finally had gotten the courage to admit to himself that he indeed had more-than-friends feelings for you.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

It was roughly one and a half years ago. He still remembered the way he had cursed in the darkness of his room, under the warmth of his blanket. He had been in shambles. His brain had short-circuited. He was confused, sad, even angry at himself. He wanted to be angry at you too for being such an absolute flawless human being and had the audacity to effortlessly play with his heartstrings like that.

The thing is, he had never been friendzoned. Never. But he had enough information about it. A complete glossary from A to Z regarding things that were related to the said situation and none of them had a positive connotation. All thanks to his friends. Joshua drank himself to sleep for two weeks straight and Seungcheol had lost several kilos of body mass because of fucking friendzone.

And most importantly, they vented their sadness and frustration to Jeonghan.

Despite laying on his soft bed with a soft pillow under his head, he felt very uncomfortable. He wanted to rest his mind in a peaceful slumber but he just couldn’t. After a few tossing and turning, he heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand.

With a weak hand, he reached for his device and found out who texted him that late.

It was you.

thank you so much for today hannie!! im no longer sad now. in fact this gotta be the best birthday ever with my best friend ever who gave me the best present ever!! goodnite :D

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. Best friend. He groaned onto the pillow as his brain was recalling the recent event that happened earlier that day. Your  twenty-fourth birthday.

As someone who lived far away from family, you didn’t have the privilege to have your birthday celebrated at home with your parents, siblings and pet cat. You also didn’t have that many friends in the city you currently lived in so your birthday was less lively than the ones you had before you moved out.

You weren't exactly sulky or sour but Jeonghan could see right through his best friend. It was your birthday and he wanted you to have the time of your life. Of course he already prepared a gift for you. A Hogwarts themed lego set which you eyed on when you two were window shopping two weeks ago. But he wanted to do more. He wanted to make your  birthday as joyful as the ones you had in your hometown.

So he asked you to go to a beach. It was spontaneous, really. He didn’t plan it beforehand but he knew a small and beautiful beach just thirty minutes drive from the city called Azure Cove.

He remembered the way your whole face lit up when he brought up the idea of going to Azure Cove as a way to celebrate your birthday. He also could never forget the way you glowed when both of you arrived at the said location. That was the happiest of you he had ever witnessed and he felt some kind of pride for being the reason behind it.

As you were enjoying the rich color of sunset on the beach, Jeonghan went back to his car and took out the Lego set he had bought for you.

And it was the moment that made Jeonghan couldn’t fall asleep that night. The way you hugged him so tightly, your eyes slightly glistened with tears and a tender kiss on his cheek. The kiss. The goddamn kiss that made a switch in his brain flip. The kiss that made him realize that he, indeed, had feelings for his best friend for God knows how long.

He looked back at the text you had sent him. The words ‘best friend’ you put right there made him slightly bitter. Well, you weren't wrong, but Jeonghan wasn’t ready for the cursed ending he would receive for being in love with you. A friend-fucking-zone.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

Back to the current situation.

The flashback got Jeonghan a little bit dizzy. He knew he was going to be friendzoned the moment he’d realized he had feelings for you. But to be honest, he had a sliver of hope that one day, you would see him as more than a friend. People might ask, what made him have such a hope? Jeonghan didn’t know either. A blind optimism? Delusion? Anyway, a hope is a hope.

“I just… I don’t like the fact that you’re seeing that person, you know? A barista? Come on. You can do better than that.”

Jeonghan knew it was a dick move to say something classist like that. He was an accountant and everyone including him knew he earned way more than that Minghao guy. If Jeonghan was in his right state of mind, he would never say anything like that. But he was too angry, too jealous and even too sad. So, again, for him, it was justified.

You never once thought Jeonghan would say something with a classist undertone like he just did now. Your jaw dropped in surprise. You had no idea what to say. Your brain just stopped working because this whole situation was way too unexpected to happen. “What the hell did you just say?”

He scoffed. Oh, this was so not him. “Someone like you should be with someone who, I don’t know, better than that Minghao dude.”

Enough with the speechlessness. You felt like you were being degraded. Although Jeonghan’s degrading words weren’t really for you, still, it was your taste in men that got targeted. With rage in your voice, you talked back, “Yeah? Like who? And what do you mean by someone like Minghao?”

“Like me!”

Uh oh. That was it. His emotions got the best of him. He uttered those words with a raised voice. He often dreamed about confessing to his best friend about his undying love. But not this way. Never this way. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He silently cursed his inability to stay calm and keep things cool. He wanted to beat himself up especially after he saw the shocked look on your face.

You were speechless for the nth time tonight and all thanks to Jeonghan. The soft spoken Jeonghan would never attack you multiple times in one go. When you had been angry just a few seconds ago, you were now confused as fuck. You couldn’t wrap your head around the words he just said. What the hell was that? What did he mean by someone like him? Why would he say that?

“Han, a-are you drunk right now? Did you drink something–”

“I’m not fucking drunk, (Y/N)! I’m sober, okay?” Your words were cut short by Jeonghan’s interruption. That irritated him a lot. Assuming him to be drunk? You must be joking.

“Then why did you–”

“Because I have feelings for you, damn it!"

There. The truth was out now in the open. Lingering in the air of the safe haven in the form of your living room, which currently no longer seemed safe for Jeonghan. Despite the voices of the actors conversing in the movie on the TV screen, Jeonghan could hear his heart beat faster than normal. He could also hear the gears in your head work to process the sudden piece of information he had dropped.

Jeonghan didn’t know how long the silence lasted. It felt like an eternity. He currently had two moods now. He either wanted to bury himself deep into the ground or he wanted to burst into tears.

When you finally moved your lips to say something, Jeonghan felt the urge to throw up. He completely had no idea of what was to come. But in a situation like this, he was sure everyone’s brain was programmed to automatically think about the worst case scenario. And what was the worst case scenario in his head now? You rejecting him in cold blood, telling him that you already had your eye on that coffee maker.

“Y-You’re joking, right?” You finally said.

It pissed him off, truly. Was him having feelings for you that shocking to hear? Hadn’t you seen the signs he had tried to show for the past several months? Well, he was completely aware that he had never said it directly that he was in love with you. But hadn’t you realized he had done so many things for you that he would never do to his other friends?

“Of course I’m not. I’m dead serious, (Y/N)!” He said in frustration. Jeonghan was not backing down. The truth was out. Might as well pour his entire heart out to you after holding it in for so long.

You could feel your heart beat so fast. You had never thought that you would be in such a situation. You didn’t know what to say. Your usual talkative self was in a hibernate mode. Your brain stopped working.

“But… why?” You muttered. You needed more information about whatever the hell was happening now so that you could start to think properly.

Jeonghan, getting even more frustrated now, ran his hands through his hair roughly. Why’d you had to ask him that? Couldn’t you just… reject him right at that moment so that the storm of hurt would pass quickly?

“Why what, huh? Why what, (Y/N)? Why am I in love with you? Jesus Christ, have you looked at you? You’re literally perfect. You have bewitched me with your perfection and I have been very willing to be bewitched by you. It’s a blessing for me to get to love someone like you. You make me happy. You make me feel things I hadn’t felt for so long. I love you, (Y/N). I love loving you.” Jeonghan confessed it all almost in one breath.

Seeing your best friend ramble about how much he loved you wasn’t on your bingo card. You had asked Jeonghan to give you a reason why he loved you and there you got it. Still, you found this entire situation confusing as hell. You still lost your ability to think. The only thing you felt right now was, somehow, guilt.

“Jeonghan…” you said his name oh-so-gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Your apology somehow sounded way worse than he had imagined. It was worse than being rejected in cold blood. Like, why were you sorry? Jeonghan hated it when people pitied him. Especially you.

He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Of course you didn’t. How could you? I never told you anything about it. Don’t be sorry, please. Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t want you to feel guilty. I don’t want your pity. But damn it. It hurts. It hurts a lot. I love you so much but you don’t love me. Not the way I want to be loved.”

When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan seized the opportunity to say more. He just wanted to let it all out. Friendship gone, be damned. He had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed anyway.

“You didn’t see it, did you? When I did all those things for you. Things I have never done for my other friends because, well, I don’t really see you as my friend. At least in my imagination.” Jeonghan uttered while looking straight into your orbs.

Then, he averted his gaze downwards towards the beige carpet. “And now you went on dates with this… Minghao dude who I have no idea about at all. I don’t know what he looks like. He must be drop dead gorgeous, huh? I bet I can never hold a candle to him. What a lucky bastard. He’s able to brag about going on dates with someone like you. I don’t know who this Minghao guy is but I despise him already. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I know you think I’m going insane right now. Hell, I probably am. I’m sure I look like a madman but I meant what I said, (Y/N). Every single goddamn word. I meant it.”

You could only look at Jeonghan as he crashed out. All the words he said started to get into your head. You allowed yourself to receive those pieces of information, no matter how absurd your mind made them to be.

You also allowed yourself to dive deep into the memories you had shared with Jeonghan. The moments. The events. All those things where Jeonghan’s actions had clearly shown that he cared for you more than you knew. When he had biked to your place during the rain because his car had broken down. You had experienced immense period pain and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own. So, Jeonghan and his bicycle had made their way to your apartment with a heat pack, chocolate bars and your other favorite snacks.

Despite the discomfort of his soaking wet clothes and the freezing temperature, he had given you the biggest smile when you opened the door. You, being an emotional person that you were, had cried on sight.

That was one of the prime examples of how loud his actions spoke. Even louder than words. You cursed yourself inwardly at how dumb, blind and stupid you had been. All along you had wished for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet someday, not realizing that your very own best friend had done above and beyond for you under your nose. You couldn’t be more blind than this.

“Please, princess, say something.” Jeonghan pleaded in desperation. The silence was killing him in the most torturous way. He had never deemed himself as someone who couldn’t control his emotions especially when he had an audience in front of him but now was a special case. His vision blurred with tears and he didn’t even hide it from you. This was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been. He had bared his heart and soul in front of you, after all.

You inhaled shakily, readying yourself to say something after being quiet for what seemed like ages.

“Y-You’ve done so much for me…” You looked down and whispered. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your teary-eyed best friend. “...and I was so blind, wasn’t I?”

The hint of self loathe in your voice didn’t escape Jeonghan’s attention. No. No, no, no. Despite his anger and frustration, his heart softened immediately. He could never watch you blame yourself for anything at all. Ever.

“No, please. It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. It’s me, alright? It’s all me. I’ve had deep, deep feelings for you but I never said a single thing. I-I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. You didn’t deserve it.” Jeonghan swallowed hard. The lump in his throat almost made him unable to speak.

“W-Why? Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve been more considerate of how I talked about… things.” Your voice was just above a whisper. Your head was a mess now. You felt guilty and confused at the same time.

Jeonghan wanted to cup your face to comfort you like he had done many times before but he wasn’t sure that you would feel disgusted or not. So, he settled by just grabbing your hand and stroking it with his thumb.

“Hey, it’s alright. Not your fault, okay? And I wouldn’t want you to be considerate of some bullshit and make you stop acting as your usual, comfortable self when you’re around me. I want you to always have your guard completely down when you’re with me.” Jeonghan comforted you while he was supposed to be the one who needed to be comforted.

Your eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. “But I hurt you. I’ve hurt you for so long and I didn’t even realize it. I hurt you just now because I selfishly flaunted my dates with Minghao at you like an idiot. I-I should’ve known–”

Jeonghan interrupted you quickly. He couldn’t let you blame yourself any further. He tightened his grip around your hand but it wasn’t too tight to hurt.

“It’s alright. You’re not in the wrong. Yes, I’ve been hurt but that’s just simply inevitable. You didn’t intentionally hurt me.”

Your dam broke. The tears you had tried to hold back were finally free falling now. You leaned closer to Jeonghan, seeking for more comfort and warmth in his arms like you had done a million times before whenever you felt horrible.

Jeonghan’s heart beat a thousand miles per hour. He hadn’t expected you to still want to be this close to him after his confession. Jeonghan pushed all his thoughts away and he wrapped his lean but muscular arms around your body. He stroked the silky strands on the back of your head and let you cry onto his chest. He didn’t mind your tears and snot ruining his shirt. He just wanted to be close to you as much as you wanted to be close to him.

All the overwhelming emotions that you contained were pouring out in the form of your tears. You were sniffling and sobbing on Jeonghan’s shirt, trying to get rid of all the guilt and confusion as Jeonghan kept whispering words of comfort to you.

After you felt like you finally had enough crying, you leaned your head back from Jeonghan’s chest and looked up at him. As beautiful as you were when you cried, the sight was still heartbreaking for Jeonghan because somehow he was the one who caused this. Your eyes were red and puffy and your nose was red as well. Jeonghan slowly reached for your face with his trembling, delicate fingers and started wiping the rest of your tears. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch which caused his breath to hitch. The gesture was beyond intimate.

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” That was the first thing you said after spending your time crying. A bit unexpected, it made Jeonghan chuckle lightly. “That’s alright. No need to worry. I have laundry detergent and a washing machine that works just fine. But… how are you feeling now? Better?” He asked while still looking down at you.

You sniffled again, trying to suck in the snot in your nostrils that had been bothering you. “In a way, yeah. But it’s funny, you know? You’re the one who is hurt and I’m the one who hurt you yet here you are, comforting me while I’m weeping like a loser.” A humorless laugh followed your words.

Jeonghan gave you a tender stare. For him, no matter the reason, if he ever saw you cry, the first thing he needed to do was to comfort you. Reciprocated or not, he would always put you first.

“You know that I could never see you cry, right? Never, ever. Well, unless when we’re watching sad movies.” Jeonghan said with a small smile, trying to lighten up the situation a little. You smiled back at him. Despite your puffy eyes, your smile still looked as pretty as ever.

For a moment, you spent your time like that in silence, staring into each other’s face. It was so intimate. Jeonghan was sure that they were actually the only couple of friends who had ever done this. He got lost easily in your beautiful eyes.

Jeonghan decided to break the silence after some time. Maybe it was just his deluded mind taking control but he believed that the ball was in his court now.

“I need to ask you something, okay? If you’re not comfortable answering, you’re free not to. No pressure, alright?” He said softly, trying not to scare you off. You nodded your head, signalling him to ask you what he wanted to ask.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, bracing himself to ask this dangerous question. “Have you ever… thought about us?” He asked as carefully as possible.

You tilted your head to the side. A gesture you always did whenever you were confused. “Like… romantically?” Your voice was filled with vulnerability.

Jeonghan was so grateful that you could catch up really quickly so he didn’t need to elaborate. His eyes lit up as he nodded, confirming your question. “Yeah, romantically. Have you ever thought about us in that way?” He tried to be as calm as possible but the surge of hope in his voice betrayed him.

Your face turned a bit sad at the confirmation. You bit your lower lip and chewed on the skin there. You didn’t quite know what to say. Never once in your life you had thought of having to face such a question.

Jeonghan picked up your uncertainty and trepidation immediately. Years of being friends with you had made it easy for him to recognize the slightest change in your facial expression.

He stroked your hair lovingly. “It’s alright. No need to be afraid. I’m a big guy, remember? I can handle rejection.” He put on a brave face and a small smile to convince you that he was fine while he was clearly not. Even though he had told you that it was okay if you didn’t want to answer, not gonna lie, he needed to hear what was in your mind. He knew the rejection would hurt him for years but he would rather have that than being kept in the dark for God knows how long.

He kept stroking your hair, trying to make you as relaxed and safe as possible, to show you that you had no reason to be afraid in front of him and you could always be honest whenever you were around him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before finally speaking up. “I-I don’t know… I’ve thought about it a couple of times.” You said weakly, still with a hint of anxiety.

Jeonghan’s heart skipped a few beats after hearing your words. Like, what do you mean you had thought about them romantically a couple of times? What? HUH?

He had to fight the urge to halt any kind of movements that could ruin the moment. He almost curled his fingers into fists but he couldn’t do that, could he? Absolutely not. Unless he wanted to cause you pain by gripping your hair tightly in his fist. Nope. He wouldn’t do that. He would rather be tied down to a train track with a train approaching than hurting you.

Jeonghan had a really hard time finding his own voice. He tried to speak but no words came out. It was too overwhelming for him. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had expected you to say “why would I think about us that way?” or something along the line. A big, massive, grand rejection. But, no. This wasn’t a rejection, was it? Nothing had prepared him for this.

Before Jeonghan could say a word, you beat him to it. “But every time I thought about it, it always left me feeling afraid.”

Well, that was another blow Jeonghan had never expected. So the idea of you two being romantically involved scared you. Why on earth? He no longer stroked your hair now. His hands were still around your body but he made no movement.

“And why is that, beautiful? What are you so afraid of? Tell me, please. It’s okay.” Jeonghan finally spoke with a strained voice. He desperately needed to know the reason.

You started to tear up again. You looked down to avoid his eyes. You didn’t want him to see you cry again. You sniffled before you tried to explain to him.

“Because, H-Han, I’m scared of losing you. You’re my safe place. My solace. My comfort. I could act like my very own self unapologetically whenever I’m around you. Y-You’re too precious to me. I don’t want to risk losing you.”

Although he didn’t know what that meant, he had one thing on his mind: he needed to put you at ease. He needed you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere at all. So, he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a second too long but you didn’t mind it. You breathed shakily as you felt his lips touching your skin. You didn’t pull away a single inch and clutched his shirt in your fists before closing your eyes.

Jeonghan pulled away so that he could look at you. The sight of you having your eyes closed was heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” He called you with a lovely term of endearment and it made you open your eyes. He let his fingers stroke the side of your face with such tenderness. “Why’d you even think that you would lose me? I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

You shook your head before burying your face onto his shirt. His shirt was still wet because of your tears earlier and you feared that you would ruin it even more now.

Jeonghan tightened his embrace around you.

“I-If we were like that a-and shit didn’t work out… like any other relationships out there, we would end up as strangers and I don’t want that. I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I’m scared, Han…” Your voice was muffled and Jeonghan could feel your tears on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so scared…” you whispered weakly.

The revelation hit him like a truck. So that was the reason. Jeonghan hated to admit it but you definitely got a point. No couple had eternity guaranteed for them. Many couples broke up. Many married couples got a divorce. It was a flawed world they lived in, after all.

But, still, call him delusional or whatever, he still wanted to taste the sweetness of loving and being loved by you properly. As lovers. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet. Especially knowing that the line had been crossed anyway after he confessed his feelings to you earlier.

Jeonghan loosened his embrace around you a little.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please. I need you to look at me. Can you do that? Please?” He begged with such gentleness.

You sniffled a couple times before detaching your face from his chest and looking up to him. Your eyes and nose were red again but still, you looked like an angel in his eyes.

He wiped the rest of the tears on your face with his fingers. “Thank you so much for telling me about your fears, princess. I know that wasn’t easy. Thank you.” He gave the top of your head a short loving kiss before leaning back to look at you again.

“I understand where you’re coming from, really. You’re precious to me too. I would rather die than lose you. But… don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”

You opened your mouth to protest but he interrupted you. He hated interrupting you especially in moments like this but he needed you to hear him out first.

“Please, sweetheart, listen to me first, yeah? I know that there are many couples out there that don't get their happy endings. Their relationships lead them to heartbreak. I get it. I understand. But the love that I have for you… it’s massive, sweetheart. And I’m ready to love you a lot more, if you let me. We could create something so beautiful together, don’t you think?”

His words were true and nothing but the truth. He had so much love to give for you. He was trying so hard not to break down in front of you. Slowly, he took both of your hands in his and brought them to his lips. He pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles, a sign to show you that he meant every word he had said, that he was absolutely devoted to you.

With your hands still in his, he continued. “I would do everything in my power to keep you happy. I would never hurt you, ever. I would never let us fall apart. If you let me, princess. Just say the word and I promise I will prove it to you.”

You felt your heart flutter. You should’ve known that your best friend was capable of loving this immensely. Even without the promise, you should’ve known that Jeonghan would go above and beyond for you. The things he had done for you throughout your precious friendship had proven enough. You just had been too blind and too afraid to acknowledge it all. But still, your fears were still there.

“B-But what if we fought? What if we argued and we broke up? What if I hurt you?” you argued weakly.

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. It seemed like you needed more convincing to finally let go of your fears, to be brave to take a step forward.

“Every couple has their own ups and downs, love. Arguments and fights are inevitable. But we could always communicate. We could always tolerate each other. I’m ready to tolerate all of our differences. And if you hurt me, I’m sure you’re able to apologize and learn from it, aren’t you? Same thing goes for me. Besides, we already have a pretty strong foundation, don’t we? We’ve been friends, well, best friends for six years. The only arguments we’ve made were probably when you insisted on having a night out and I preferred to stay in. Or when I forgot to buy your favorite ice cream that one time.”  Jeonghan stroked your face lovingly with a smile on his face, offering you peace and comfort. “I promise you, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”

And with that, your doubts started to go away. You thought back to the days when you had argued over small things. Nothing intolerable. you couldn’t speak any words against him because he had made a perfect point. Maybe it was time for you to finally be brave and let go of your fears. Maybe it was time for you to completely trust him and create something unimaginably beautiful together. you gave him a vulnerable smile.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “That’s the beautiful smile that I love so much.”

You could feel your face get warmer. You moved your hands and wrapped your arms around his neck loosely.

“I wanna learn how to love you as much as you love me, Han.”

Jeonghan had never been happier. This was the start of a new story he was about to write together with you.

“And I’ll teach you how. I’ll gladly give you all the time you need. Even if it takes forever.”

He searched for any doubt in your eyes and he found none. So, he softly touched your chin. His thumb was playful enough to trace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” He took his courage to lean his face closer to yours.

Your heart was now beating a hundred miles an hour. Were you really about to kiss your best friend? But the idea of that didn’t sound bad at all. If anything, you were anticipating it.

When you didn’t pull away, Jeonghan inched his face closer. Before his lips landed on yours, he saw you close your eyes. Jeonghan smiled at the sight and he finally got rid of the distance.

Soft was an understatement when he felt your lips against his. He rested his lips there, not moving in the slightest. He was giving you a chance to pull away.

Two seconds had passed and you didn’t show any sign of resistance. So, he saw it as an opportunity to move his lips and you immediately followed his movement. The kiss was hesitant and careful but sweet nonetheless.

Despite the tentativeness, the kiss was better than he had ever imagined before. He had fantasized kissing you on the mouth countless times for years. Never once in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get to this very moment.

Because it was your first kiss with each other, Jeonghan didn’t want to cross the line. So, he slowly pulled away. But oh, boy, he needed to think twice about not crossing the line because the sight of you, with your eyes still closed, chasing his lips with your slightly parted ones was more than enough to cause a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He cursed inwardly before crashing his lips on yours again. Self control be damned.

This time, the kiss was more passionate and more urgent. As if Jeonghan was in the middle of a desert and you were an oasis. He moved his lips against yours in a sensual, intimate and lustful dance. It had you surprised for a split second but you were quick to give back the same amount of passion into the kiss.

Sensing that you actually wanted it as much as he did, he tried to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. You moaned into the kiss and Jeonghan swallowed your needy sound with greed. He drank up your noises and it caused him to let out a low groan.

You parted your lips slightly, giving him access to explore your mouth. Jeonghan wasted no time sliding his tongue into the velvet walls of your mouth. Their tongues met, tasting and exploring each other. The sweetness of your wet muscles made him dizzy with need. He groaned as he deepened the kiss even more.

His hands were wandering from your waist to your hips. He let his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he boldly slid them under it, caressing your bare skin. You let out a gasp at the contact and it almost made Jeonghan growl.

He let his hands roam around freely on your torso as his kisses strayed away from your mouth to your chin and down to your neck. You couldn’t do anything besides letting him use your skin as his personal playground.

Jeonghan eventually pushed you gently to lay on the couch as he positioned himself on top of you, between your legs. You were a moaning and whimpering mess under him. Your needy noises made him want you even more. His lips kept exploring your neck, trying to find one spot that would make you go insane.

His lips weren’t the only thing that was working overtime. He also licked and nipped your throat. Enough to make you jolt with pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. I can do this all day.” Jeonghan whispered hoarsely against your neck. His breath was warm on your skin. You couldn’t speak properly because your brain had short-circuited the moment your lips had met.

Your fingers started tugging on his locks. The simple act made him moan. The feeling of your hands pulling his hair was making him go crazy.

“Mmh, H-Han… please– aah!” you arched your back and cried out when he nipped your collarbone.

Bingo. Jeonghan finally found that one spot that made you see stars. He paid extra attention to that one particular area by kissing, licking, nipping and lightly sucking on it.

Jeonghan chuckled at your inability to form a coherent sentence. “You like that, princess?” He gently bit your skin. “Right here, yeah? This one, sweetheart?”

You could only moan and whimper at the sensuality of his words and the way his mouth pleasured you. You weren't thinking when you bucked your hips against his. That was the moment when Jeonghan realized that he was as hard as rock.

He pulled his lips away from your collarbone and looked down on you, making you whine in protest.

“W-Why… Why’d you stop?” you asked as you were breathing heavily. Your heart was still beating so fast.

Jeonghan was panting as well. He was trying to regulate his breathing. He had to close his eyes because the sight of you so pretty under his body was downright sinful. Slowly, he sat back up on the couch and you followed suit.

“Princess… let’s stop, yeah? We can’t… We can’t keep going on. At least not yet. Not right now.” He said once his breath had started to steady.

“H-Huh? Why? Did I do bad–”

Jeonghan quickly shook his head to interrupt you because it was actually the opposite. You were too good and Jeonghan almost couldn’t resist to just take you and claim you.

He cupped your face in his palms, gently stroking your cheeks. “No, sweetheart. Of course not. You did so good. Too good. And that’s the problem.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side. “Why is it a problem?”

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. You were so adorable. “It’s a problem because I want to be a gentleman and take you out on a date first, okay? I don’t want to act purely on my urges like a wild animal. You deserve better than that, love.”

Your face lit up when the word ‘date’ reached your ears. “Yeah? You wanna take me out on a date?”

He nodded his head at your excitement. He wrapped his arms around your body in a loving embrace. “Of course I do, sweetheart. How does tomorrow sound? A nice and warm Sunday would be a good day for us to go on a date, wouldn’t it?”

You snuggled against him. “That would be so good. The sooner the better.” You were smiling from ear to ear.

“The sooner the better, indeed. So, tell me, what do you have in mind? Do you want something fancy or casual as our first date?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your lips curled in a cheeky smile. “Don’t you know the answer already? Come on, we’ve been attached to the hip for years now.”

Jeonghan let out a laugh at your teasing. “You cheeky little thing. Alright. Casual, it is. How about… going to the beach, hm? We could lay on a blanket, under the sun. Maybe we could eat some pizzas as well.”

Your eyes turned starry when he mentioned the beach. That couldn’t be any better. “Which beach, Han?” you knew he would say the correct answer but you asked him anyway.

He smiled at you before bringing your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes and said, “Azure Cove.”

Your smile widened and you gave his lips a short but sweet kiss. Jeonghan’s heart skipped a couple of beats when you did that. He could never get used to this. Any physical contact with you might cause him a small heart attack.

“You and me at Azure Cove with a box of pizza and a bottle of vodka. Sounds like the perfect first date for me.” You gleamed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Jeonghan stroked your hair tenderly “It’s a deal, then, yeah? I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten o’clock. I’ll bring your favorite bottle of vodka with me and we’ll go to Azure Cove.”

“I can’t wait.” You said as you snuggled closer against his body, seeking more warmth.

Both of you spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence with ‘Love, Rosie’ still playing on the TV while cuddling each other on the couch. Then, Jeonghan decided to break the silence.

“You know… I might have something to ask from you.” He said with a hint of distaste and mischief.

You turned your head to look at his face. “What is it?”

Jeonghan’s lips formed a handsome smirk. “Ditch that Minghao guy.”

You bursted out laughing and it made him laugh as well. “Oh my God, Han, I completely forgot about his existence the moment you said you like me. Trust me, he’s the least of your concern right now. I got my eye on you and only you.”

Jeonghan had never ever been happier.

[milla-frenchy]

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n:  Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around. 

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

 “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at  your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else. 

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him. 

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself. 

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled. 

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless. 

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself. 

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be. 

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered. 

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this. 

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole. 

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped. 

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips. 

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release. 

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed. 

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[kerryshifting]

i read your pinned post and why do you want to live forever? like be immortal

we think we have many desires .. but in fact we have only one. to live, forever.

IT’S IMMORTALITY … MY DARLINGS.

why is such thing as immortality, who was always represented in media as a curse who will break your soul into pieces century after century, a thing that shifters like me decide to engage in? this is my personal experience. so. it's very personal. may have sensitive topics.

you know when you are a young child and you find out that the sun will die in some billion years? i spend the whole day sobbing when my older cousin told me. i was four, and that was my first introduction to death. since that day i discovered that everything seemed to lead there: no matter what you do in life, how old or young you are, if you deserve it or not. i was always told that i have one life, and my non–religious family said that there's nothing after. that's it. no other opportunities.

since then i had a very love and hate relationship with death. hated when it took something from me, loved in the hope that would take me. everytime my life started to get dark, it was my first thought. listening to born to die by lana del rey on repeat became part of my routine.

and then. boom. THE canon event. shifting.

i fell on my knees. i was desperate. i wanted other chances. i wanted other lives. my higher self thought it was a good idea to give me this knowledge. i was fourteen, my mom was my enemy, lana del rey my saviour, and all of my friendships were girls, so confusing by charli xcx before girls, so confusing (fourteen years old me would have eat that up). so, i decided to believe it immediately. no questions asked. but, of course, i was a teenage girl. shit happens. and the italian school system it's worse than an asylum. and then shit actually happened!!! the type of things that makes you laugh hysterically before sobbing on the carpet. i was sixteen and suddenly i didn't want other lives, and neither the one i had. i totally forgot about shifting… and then i reached the rock bottom. like. really bad. it was a continue cycle of sadness and apathy and then, almost two years later, anger. ooooooooooh boy i was mad.

i never understood the people around me calling me rebellious – like. girl. where? until i discovered shifting again. septermber 2024. what a time to be alive! but first: that summer really did something to me. going in my home country, connecting with the place where my ancestors walked, breathed and lived really was a slap in the face. that summer i actually picked up a book after years of caring about nothing, and i was still the curious child that would go in historical websites to research about things. watched documentary after documentary. i read poetry. scientific shits that i never actually understood. politics. an hatred for all the people who said to me that "you only have one life" hit me so hard. i was furious because i spent years of my 'only' life sobbing in my bed. SEPTEMBER 2024. shifting!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!! i totally forgot about that!!!!!!!!!! instead of tiktok i used tumblr, and i got slapped in the face numerous times again. it's so different from what i thought. better. amazing. the answer to my questions.

so, all this to say what? immortality. basically: rebellion. revenge. out of spite. my last and long lasting sarcastic laugh. i want culture. now i care about things around me. i care about myself. i care about my soul, all the possible versions of me. the world. other people. i want to be young and old again. and again. i healed. i am not mad, i am excited. i have a journey. emotions that i can't wait to experience. a big middle finger to death who consumed my first eighteen years of life. this feels very dramatic but hey!!! i watch too many movies so that's probably why.

[jayciethings]

Please hear my heart in this, I've donated to Gazan GoFundMe campaigns and to charities working on the ground in Gaza. I also got scammed on a GoFundMe that has now been taken down and have seen several fraudulent campaigns taken down. My heart in this was anger and concern that money (in this case seemingly a lot of money) might be going to a scam one rather than a legitimate one.

Please bear in mind, also, that the person in Gaza may be legitimate but the person claiming to raise money in their name may not be. In the case of the scam one I mistakenly donated to, I don't know whether the family she claimed to be raising money for was legitimate, but the woman who was running the GoFundMe wasn't, and she was running multiple campaigns.

This week I was messaged by a Tumblr account who sent me a link to a GoFundMe campaign that is on the vetted list who asked for $50 for needs not stated in the campaign. He then sent a second very aggressive message a couple of day later because I had not seen his first message. When I asked him why he so urgently needed $50 from me when the campaign he was urging me to donate to has raised over $16,000 he couldn't give a satisfactory response.

So, I have seen concerning behaviour from vetted campaigns too.

RE your tags , yes, apologies I wrote the name wrong and corrected it but I think you reblogged the version before I had corrected it.

It is the same name. Issa Amash. Last time I checked there were six GoFundMe campaigns in the name Issa Amash. It's possible it's more than one person with the same name but six Gaza GoFundMe campaigns by six different people with the same name at the same time feels unlikely. What is more likely is your point that someone may be doing it on behalf of more than one family. But I did look into how to tell legitimate campaigns from scam ones and it is considered due diligence to say what your relationship is to the person, where you are located, where they are located, and how you will get the funding to them. None of the Issa Amash campaigns did that. And, in addition, one of the recipients named in one of those six campaigns (Mahmood - apologies I forget his second name) has the same name as the organiser of a GoFundMe campaign where an Issa Amash is named as the recipient.

These would all be considered big warning signs. And I felt it was enough to conclude something fraudulent was happening. But I shouldn't have condensed my response and made it sound definitive that the family named in this campaign was definitely fraudulent. I'm genuinely sorry for that.

The last thing I want to do is to divert money from a genuine cause but I'm struggling more than ever to be certain which causes are legitimate when there are warning signs coming from campaigns stated as vetted.

If Issa Amash is legitimate and has been proven to give the money to legitimate families then I will owe and freely give a huge apology. But as it stands, I feel like my concerns/questions are valifld based on the above.

No donations for more than 9 days 🚨🇵🇸

Please don't stop supporting my family. We still need you so that I can rebuild my destroyed home, treat my baby Mira outside Gaza, and live a decent life for me and my children.

And to compensate them for all the pain they suffered in the war

I still live in tents in cold weather It was a very rainy night. The tents of most people living in tents were flooded ❄️⛺️

Please donate to us 🙏❄️⛺️

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #110 )

[anchorandrope]

https://www.tumblr.com/anchorandrope/775582611906183168/in-an-earlier-post-you-mentioned-gabis-blog-being

When was Gabi's blog terminated?

hiii!! [related to this]

Her blog was deleted November 11, 2020.

In a screenshot I took that day (posted here) when tumblr still let you see her blog for a second before "not found"- you can see that her very last top post was the CelebTM article that mentioned her blog.

The article where Gabi's blog was mentioned was the first article that uncovered the situation on October 21, 2020.

On November 9 - two days before Gabi's blog was deleted - Celeb posted the infamous letter from Briana's sugar daddy telling her he would drop the lawsuit.

On November 18th, CelebTm posted a similar article - but without mentioning Gabi's blog (tellmethisisnotlove). Last article of 2020.

You can also see here the IG stories celebtm posted on November 9, 10 and 11 and here a general timeline of the situation. A last article on the situation was published on January 19, 2021 and then no more was said about it.

Gabi created another blog on December 29, 2020. Today it's inactive but her @ is @tellmethisisnottumblisnextfuckup. Gabi if you ever read this I hope you're doing good <3 you're really missed!!

When Gabi's blog was deleted, the first thing I did was to run to the wayback machine with all the posts I had reblogged from her to see if they were there. Her posts were still on my blog in reblogs. I started, with the help of wayback, to look for their posts from other people's reblogs to reblog them myself and link them to wayback. These two posts originally had links to all the reblogs of her posts (which didn't work but were linked to the wayback) but when tumblr completely removed those posts, everything stopped working and I replaced them with the wayback links directly. That was during 2021, which is why in 2022 I asked Gabi for permission to repost the original babygate masterposts that were linked in the article.

Even I used to have a tag called "tellmethisisisnotlove masterposts" which were the reblogs of her posts, and the whole tag disappeared when they deleted everything that day, which is something that shouldn't happen because when you reblog on tumblr, your reblog is a "copy" of the original post and even if the blog deactivates/gets deleted, the posts continue to circulate. It's weird because I've seen blogs of bigots get terminated and their posts are still circulating, soooo.... someone was very keen not to leave a record of anything....

[utterlyazriel]

Oh, that's good to know, darling! I was just worried someone was robbin' you! On the other hand... Would you give us your Arthur Morgan fics recs? Tumblr or ao3? <3 if its not too much trouble!

[rubs my hands together like a devious lil fly] why nonnie i would be delighted to share as i've been far too slack in sharing what i've been reading!! in no particular order <3

the leather and lace series by the oh so talented @photo1030 this one is a big currently twenty five (25!) chaptered fic with that dynamic u hunger for when you play the game... like oof, it hits the spot, it scratches the itch, etc etc big ol chefs kiss from sloane <3

as far as dreams go / part two by @serawritesthings mutual pining my goddamn BELOVED this is a big long juicy fic with that sweet, sweet miscommunication! incredible prose and someone who loves arthur the same way i do i reckon <3

of horses and men by @eaaaazygurl any fic that lets the reader be there for arthur is one i'm gobbling down fr. i actually couldn't believe this beauty doesn't have more notes

the caretaker by @immajustvibehere MY BIG SOFTIEEEE like this guy gets it, the prompt was tasty but the delivery? freakin scrumptious

graphite and gratitude by @bimrsadler oughhh something about this dynamic actually tickles me pink, getting wound up but arthur being the one who easily unwind you like that's the stuff man

salt and pepper by @hihomeghere cos i also eat up any fic that lets me live out the fantasy of grabbing gorgeous arthur morgan by the face and telling him that he's HAWT

same goes for sweet dreams by @cowboydisaster like ough toothrotting fluff actually, what fanfiction was created for, amazing, showstopping, unbeatable, etc etc

give me my sin again by @messrmoonyy we love a little devoted secret relationship.... and sin, we love sin 🙂‍↕️

conflicted spaces by @not-neverland06 WHEWWW a whole ass story to devour, i love love love having a plot to sink my teeth into and the hurt/comfort aspect of the whole thing just sweetens the deal <3

one warm day is all i really need by @threadbearsweater i'll be real with u i don't remember this one off the top of my head BUT i have high standards to have things shelved away in my likes, waiting to be properly rbed, so i trust in my heart its spectacular

ok that's all for now <3 i should really make an effort to do some occasional recs because this was hella fun! thank you for asking nonnie! hopefully you find something new!

mwah x

[magicalbats]

Persist and Resist (Sunday x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7730

Warnings: afab!reader, handjob, cum eating, a pinch of femdom, canon typical Catholic guilt

A/N: Happy Valentine's everyone! I actually started writing this one in response to an ask I got back when I was working on last years kinktober but at some point in shuffling the text around from here to Google docs it seems Tumblr ate the initial message, which is a big bummer. I do, however, recall that the sender wanted to know what I liked about Sunday ... and the answer to that is clearly 7730 words long! lol Please enjoy the fic and if you're still around, anon ... this one is for you. ❤️

⭐

“Just relax,” you murmur, ignoring his startled gasp when you lean in from behind to rest your chin against his shoulder. “You’re always so stiff. That’s not good for your health, y’know.”

He hesitates, seems to think about it. Deciding how he should react. 

Forcing himself to draw a slow, carefully measured breath this time and further betraying his feelings on the matter, Sunday grits out a terse laugh. It’s soft and quiet. A barely there chuckle that carries with it only a very small fraction of the self assured confidence he’d displayed back on Penacony. 

You knew now that the real Sunday was not quite so sure of himself or as comfortable in his own skin as he’d first appeared, although he still tries very hard to hide that insecurity from you despite being far, far away from his old home. Like some sort of defense mechanism meant to protect and shield the delicate fragile parts of him from threat of the outside world, but it doesn’t work. Not when you were sitting so damn close to him as to feel every stuttering beat of his heart.

Pressed right up against his back like this, there’s not much he can keep from you, in fact. You’re keenly aware of even the most imperceptible shift in him, from the steady expansion of his lungs down to the loose flex of his hands where they’re resting across his lap. His body language makes it clear that he’s not accustomed to sharing such close proximity with another person and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. Right down to the molecular level it’s obvious he’s way out of his comfort zone given his subtle fidgeting, as if he just couldn’t help himself.

He was nervous. Maybe even a little scared, too.

“How interesting.” He finally murmurs. “I wasn’t aware you filled the important role of medical expert on board the Express. I’ll have to make note not to end up in need of your services again.”

Turning his head, Sunday pointedly looks elsewhere in your new room on the train, much preferring to focus on anything other than its owner at the moment. 

Situated above the party car and effectively cut off from the more heavily used common areas, the privacy here is absolute and precisely why you’d extended an invitation to him. There was more than enough room for you to share this space with the wayward traveler who, as far as you could tell, had been sleeping on the bench seats in the car below while you worked to get everything set up to your liking. But he never complained about it or tried to demand better accommodations even though you were certain it was a drastic downgrade in the comfortability he was used to. Like some self flagellating martyr, almost. 

The thought that he might be using the Express’ lack of additional rooms to further punish himself, convinced he deserved that or even less, was what ultimately swayed your decision to open your door to him. You wanted to show Sunday that there were still good things in this world that he could have, things he could enjoy and appreciate the same way he had in his previous life even if they weren’t quite as luxurious or posh as he was accustomed to. 

You also wanted to show him that you were willing to forgive him and, in the process, maybe even convince him to forgive himself. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He insists, just a bit too tightly for it to be believable. “But I’ve seen you in action before. You’re not exactly what I’d call a gentle hand, and this … bedside manner is beyond me.”

That makes you smile into his shoulder as you wind your arms more securely around him, gently nudging Sunday back against your front. Still, he refuses to relent though. Staying perfectly motionless and straight as a board now, he almost feels like a statue made of solid granite sitting on the edge of the haphazardly made bed with you. Would have, were it not for the slightest hitch in his chest.

You realize in a distant, immaterial sort of way that his subconscious reaction was in response to your breasts pressing into his spine. He must like it then, even if he was loathe to say it. This was admittedly something you found to be charmingly cute in its guileless unassuming but it also made you want to tease him even more for it at the same time.

“That might be for the best,” You softly coo at him, keeping your voice light and barely more than a whisper as you trail a single hand higher up to pull at one of the clasps on his jacket. “I don’t have a medical license, after all.”

He sucks in another inhale, sharper this time. “You’re shameless.”

“That may be true, but I don’t see you trying to stop me.”

A strange little sound puffs out of him, something equally torn between indignation and fluster.

He either can’t or he won’t bring himself to reject your advances though, and he just sits there while you make careful work of unfastening his cozy coat. Idly, you wonder if this was the first time he’s ever had someone touching him like this. But he’s either making an attempt to be more polite than he otherwise would have been when someone was invading his personal bubble like this or, more likely, he considered it another facet of his penance. Further punishment for a sin he’s already been punished for twice over in your eyes. 

Sighing a quiet sound against his neck, you tentatively slip your hand into the inner layer of his shirt once you’ve got it nudged up enough to reach inside.

The skin along his stomach is enviously soft and smooth when you brush your fingers against it, and he outright jolts at that first hint of contact. Even then he still does not protest or try to pull away, though. His breathing deepens, coming slightly harder and faster now, but he makes no move to disengage from you, and you finally rouse yourself to tip your face up at him in question.

“I was only joking, Sunday. You can tell me if you don’t want me to keep going.”

“So you can hold it over my head later? I think not, Miss Stellaron. Against all odds, I still have some pride left in me.”

You frown at that. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re not a prisoner here and I’m not your jailer, so you’re free to make your own choices. I just want to help you.”

For a drawn out moment it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any kind of response from him, and you’re just a bit disappointed about that. But then, ever so slowly, he turns his head to cautiously glance back at you. The deeply embarrassed flush staining his cheekbones manages to surprise you, making your brows climb up to your hairline before you can suppress the reaction and stop it.

“I fail to see how this could be in any way helpful to me.” He intones, keeping his wing tucked forward across the lower half of his face so he can hide his mouth from your line of sight. Acting as a final barrier in case you were to decide to take that last inch from him. 

“I thought this might help you relax. You are pretty stiff, you know. I wasn’t joking about that.”

That defensively tucked in wing gives a brief flutter to make the soft feathers ruffle slightly, like a helpless bird trying to puff itself up to look bigger. It would have been adorable had his eyes not narrowed at you in warning in the same breath.

“I’ve never heard of such a method for relaxation. This isn’t how the Family does things.”

“But you’re not part of the Family anymore, are you? It’s okay to do things differently now.” Holding the air in your lungs, anticipating the coin drop, you slide the hand inside his shirt a little higher up to rub over a tiny nipple. “Let me show you, Sunday. Please?”

He twitches at the touch of your fingertips and quickly swings his attention back around to avoid having to look at you any longer. You can feel the shudder that runs through him but he still refuses to utter the one word that would make you back off. ‘Stop’. That’s all he needed to say. And you would, if he really wanted that. 

Something told you he didn’t completely hate what you were doing though, and it’s not like he’d ever admit to liking it anyway.

So you take your time softly petting over the petite bud, coaxing it to full stiffness which even then doesn’t leave much for you to play with. Every part of him was so slim and compact that as you feel over his chest you find yourself wondering if he was perhaps malnourished despite the life of relative luxury he’d lived back on Penacony. He shouldn’t have had to go without food, at the very least.

Deciding to find him a slice of cake in the kitchen after this, or at least a cookie, you redirect your hand to the opposite side of his chest to tease that nipple as well. Sunday stiffly arches against you in response, nudging his narrow chest up at the sensation even as he whimpers a quiet noise into the still room. He was slowly getting more and more fidgety, like he wasn’t quite sure how to react to what you were doing. How to process it or how to reconcile any of it in his mind. 

But a simple glance down at the front of him tells you everything you need to know without having to break the static charged silence by asking him how he was feeling. He wouldn’t have been honest with you anyway, of that you were certain, so there would have been no point in it.

The reluctant tent pushing up through his pants speaks for itself though, and this part of him could not lie. No matter how much he tried to fight it or wrestle it back under control, there was simply no subjugating the natural urges of his body. He couldn’t fully control it no matter how much he might want to and you can tell that bothers him a great deal in the way he softly seethes under his breath.

He was supposed to be disciplined and steadfast, not easily swayed by the compunctions of flesh and blood. And after rejecting it for so long, stuffing it down into a sealed box in the back of his mind where he wouldn’t have to look at it or think about it, he was now quickly succumbing to the full brunt of his neglected sensitivity. All you’ve done so far was tease his nipples a little bit and his cock was already needily flexing up into the placket of his slacks as if with a mind of its own. A hungry beast that couldn’t be contained no matter how hard its master might yank on the leash trying to bring it back to heel. 

It’s a little sad, in a way. You can’t help feeling sorry for him and all the simple pleasures he’s denied himself for the sake of exerting some amount of control over his own existence when he otherwise had none, but you also feel a sharp stab of arousal too. There were so many things you could teach him, if given half the chance. So many different avenues of pleasure and satisfaction, and intimacy that the two of you could explore together if he’d just allow himself the freedom to experience them for once in his life.

In truth you’d found Sunday quite interesting from the moment you first set eyes on him in front of the check-in counter of the Penacony Grand Hotel, like there was some sort of magnetic force at work urging you closer into his orbit. You knew now that at least part of that compulsion was a result of the Harmony and the other was his natural charisma as a Halovian. But there’s something else there too, something not so easily explained or written off.

He was not that much unlike you, was he? Someone who was so utterly bereft of a home to call his own in this vast cosmos that the nomadic existence of a star-bound wanderer was the only feasible option left to him. Everything from his identity right down to his own sister had been taken from him and he was alone now, save you and the rest of the Astral Express crew. You could understand that well enough even if you didn’t have any memories of what you’d lost before ending up here, just the same as he eventually had.

But you wanted to show him what having that freedom was really like, even if it was just a tiny glimpse of what awaited him on the other side now that he was free of Penacony’s slumbering birdcage.

“Do you trust me, Sunday?”

He tries to laugh again, fails miserably at it, and all that comes out is an odd little croak instead. “I don’t see that I have much of a choice in the matter, do I?”

“Of course you do.” 

Carefully sliding your hand out of his shirt, you reach down to tug at his belt buckle with deliberate slowness, giving him ample opportunity to protest. He just groans the most threadbare little sound you’ve ever heard though, and finally allows himself to reluctantly ease back into you. Still unfalteringly stiff and halting, but at least you were making progress.

With a brief clink and a rattle, his belt comes loose. You set your sights on his pants next, fumbling with the top button just as slowly so as not to spook or startle him. He really was like a defenseless bird caught in the sights of a much larger predator and unable to fly, to flee or to fight. He remains passive in your arms, luckily, but the building anticipation of what you were doing does make him start to squirm. He quickly forces himself to stop and be still though, merely watching what your hands are doing with his face tipped down towards his lap.

Soon enough you have those neatly pressed slacks open and you slip your fingers inside to feel along the band of his underwear before trailing even lower. You find his straining cock easily when it’s already stiff and rigidly pushing up from his body, giving it a gentle squeeze through the last layer of laughably thin cotton, and he responds with a tortured, half choked gasp.

“M - Miss Stellaron …”

You can hear the hoarse rattle in his voice as much as you feel it where you’re pressed right up against him like you are. At some point your breathing seems to have synced with his and you find yourself quietly panting right along with him as you work to nudge his pants down far enough to free him from them. 

Clearly picking up on your intent, Sunday hesitates to do it and he sways almost unsteadily between your arms before he at last manages to shyly angle his hips off the edge of the mattress to help you in your endeavor. He whimpers softly while he does it, and you consolingly coo at him as you press your face into the crook of his elegant neck to breathe deep the smell of him. Soap and clean linen, and a hint of downy fuzz that makes your head feel light with the impression of warmth. Perfect for cuddling. 

“Shh. Just relax for me. I promise I’ll take good care of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Tipping forward, you place a tender kiss to his drooping wing and you’re delighted by the sensitive inhale he sucks in at the sensation of your lips brushing against the feathers. You’d always wondered if they were as delicately receptive as they looked and you were glad to have your answer even as you tug at his underwear to slide the band underneath his straining length.

And it immediately springs up into the air, already flushed and leaking as it weakly twitches in his lap as if in a desperate bid for attention. You’re amazed at not only how beautiful his cock is, average in size at best and yet so perfectly shaped as to look somehow beyond the pale of mere flesh, but also at how satiny soft and smooth it is. The flawless texture almost makes it look like something made of alabaster, and you eagerly reach around to take him in your hand.

“Oh!” His back dramatically arches against you, his hands flying up where they hesitate over yours for a harrowing moment before he allows himself to latch onto your wrists. It’s the first hint of reciprocity on his part, intentionally touching you instead of remaining a bystander as he had up until now, but you still hold your breath as you wait to see what he’ll do next.

If he was going to push you away this would be the time. The situation had clearly escalated beyond what could be excused as simple platonic affection and you brace for his reaction. His rejection. 

To your genuine surprise, however, Sunday just holds onto you by the wrists and weakly rolls his hips up in a shuddering, painfully stiff thrust. The motion sends his cock stuttering across your fingers before pulling back when he eases down to sit fully on the mattress again, wheezing softly at just that brief stimulation. You sorely wished you could see his face again but Sunday’s attention remains down and that fluttering wing stays an ever present screen for him to hide behind as well. 

No matter though. You didn’t really have need for visual cues when you could feel everything in stunning high definition through the point of contact between his body and yours. 

Closing your fist tighter around his cock, you gently begin to pump him, hand dragging from the base where ticklishly coarse hairs tease your knuckles straight up to the tip to make his foreskin bunch over the head. You can hear the sticky wet click of precum but it’s quickly lost under the harsh, frazzled gasp he raggedly pulls in. And it almost manages to surprise you, how sensitive he really is and how vigorously he twitches at your ministrations. There was some part of you that hadn’t been sure if he was even able to put on such an animated display, thinking he’d fight tooth and nail to keep up that implacable facade no matter what manner of duress he was made to endure. 

That is not what happens though. 

Instead he suddenly comes alive, unable to stop himself from full on shuddering and twisting his narrow hips against your hold. Hissing an overwrought sound into the otherwise still and silent room, he clutches at your arms in such a tight deathgrip that the leather of his gloves softly creaks. Not to stop you or to push you away, you dully realize when he groans your name like a plea. But because it felt good and it overwhelmed him, and he needed to hold onto something or risk shattering into a million pieces right then and there. 

Stealing another quick, almost giddy look down at the cock gripped in your fist, you don’t think that’s going to help him or stop the inevitable though. He’s flushed pink and raw from nothing more than just a few brief pumps of your hand, and you can feel the intense throb of him pulsing under your fingers. Not only was he going to cum quick and hard, considering how fiercely he shakes for you, but it was also going to take an embarrassing lack of effort on your part to get him there. 

“Oh, Sunny. Are you enjoying yourself now?” You purr into his shoulder, delighted at how abruptly he’d changed his songbird’s tune. From proud and immovable to a writhing, pathetically whimpering mess in just the blink of an eye. And all it had taken was the firm hold of your hand on him. It was in many ways astounding. “I always knew you had it in you.”

“I told you — nnghn! Not to … not to call me that.” 

Humming a low sound of agreement, you slowly drag your hand back down the length of him to peel away his foreskin in a tortuously stilted motion. Another sticky click hits your ears and he grunts a harried noise of distress when the cool air wafts against his exposed glans unimpeded, making him judder wildly in response. But you keep him held tightly against you even when his back dramatically bows, using your anchoring arm wrapped around his flexing stomach to keep Sunday pressed into you while the opposite hand gives his base a pinched squeeze to stave off his release. It wouldn’t hold it back for long but you were happy with even just those few extra seconds you’re given to admire him. 

And admire him you do. He’s sticky with an excess of eager, dribbling precum that coats the glistening head in a filmy sheen, inviting you to reach out and rub him there. You knew that would undo him in alarmingly short order though, so you hold off for the moment. Rather, you gently smooth your touch down to caress over his balls and wrap your fingers around their delicate weight, cradling them in the palm of your hand. 

Surprising you a great deal, Sunday outright yelps at the sensation and jolts as if you’d just electrocuted him despite how careful you’d been in handling his testes. Slim chest heaving on an uncontrollable, stuttering rhythm, he heavily leans back into you and tips his head to keen up at the ceiling. The sound itself as much as the volume of it makes your heart leap into your throat where it threatens to suffocate you. He was getting much too loud, wasn’t he?  

Your thoughts immediately flash upon the idea that someone might be just downstairs in the party car but you aren’t sure how well sound travels between the two floors, and that makes you nervous. Would they be able to hear him clearly and figure out what was happening just over their heads, or would it only seem like muffled and distant noise? Hell, even if one of your other crewmates wasn’t down there Shush almost certainly was. That damned robot hardly ever moved from behind the polished bar unless it was to pester someone with its awful jokes. What would it even say about the things it could hear going on up in your room? 

Quickly deciding you really didn’t want to test fate like that, you unlock your arm from around his middle and reach up to lightly palm over the graceful line of his throat instead. His Adam’s apple bobs thickly under your hand with the rough inhale he pulls in, swaying between your thighs when he turns his head to blink at you as if he were drunk and seeing double. But at least it looked like you had his attention again. 

“You need to watch your volume. If someone hears us, that's going to make having breakfast together way more awkward than I’d like.” You warn him, keeping your voice gentle and soft. For someone who’d acted with such overwhelming confidence on his home turf he’d quickly proven himself skittish and easy to fluster once you got your hands on him. You didn’t want to scare him off after all the effort you’d had to put in just to get this far. 

“I … I’m sorry.” He mutters with no shortage of Herculean effort. Gone are the impeccable manners and lofty words of the head of the Oak Family, and in their place there was now only a raw vulnerability you hadn’t expected to see in him. “It seems I’ve — forgotten myself. How embarrassing. I - I’ve never …”

“Been touched like this?” You supply, giving his balls a featherlight palpitation for emphasis. 

It’s enough to make Sunday hiss through tightly clenched teeth though, squeezing his eyes shut against the sensation as he turns his head away. “Yes. I mean n - no. This is my … first time.” 

That makes you smile. “I can tell. You’re so sensitive, Sunny. Haven’t you ever thought to touch yourself before?” 

His little wings flutter in response, flapping an irritable rhythm that makes the feathers softly smack against your face as if to bat you away. It’s hard to say if he was offended that you would even think to ask that of him in the first place or if it was because you’d used that insufferable nickname again but either way his reaction makes you laugh. 

Yes, there were a great many avenues of mischief the two of you could get into. It would be fun exploring them together, and this was only the first activity on a very long list of things you wanted to introduce him to. It was a bit out of order but maybe you could try kissing next. 

Your own excitement grows at the thought, and you eagerly swing your attention back around to Sunday’s lap. Giving his balls one last, gentle squeeze, you curl your hand upward so you can wrap it around his shaft and feel that silken skin under your fingers again. The seething noise he makes sounds suspiciously like that of a tea kettle getting close to boiling but he makes a valid attempt to keep his voice in check when you offer that rigid length another slow, savory tug. 

Unfortunately he quickly loses hold of that threadbare control as you reach the glans and the drag of your fist makes his foreskin slide up to bunch over the fleshy slit. The sensation seems to nearly bowl him over and he judders helplessly, squawking an oversensitized sound. Even with the threat of discovery an ever present danger, you still can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at his decidedly innocent, unassuming reaction. 

“Oh, Sunday … what are we going to do if someone comes knocking on the door because they heard you? Something tells me that look on your face would give us away no matter how we tried to explain ourselves.” 

He full on whimpers at that, sounding sad and deeply ashamed in at the implication of guilt. It’s clearly getting harder for him to maintain his usual cool the longer your hands are on him though, and you realize you’re going to have to do something to help him out. He was much too sensitive, too easily overwhelmed to roll the dice in this particular situation when getting caught together could mean the end of everything. 

Licking your lips, you momentarily consider choking him just enough to cut off his air supply and make it impossible for him to cry out. Your fingers idly flex around the bobbing curve of his throat at the thought. Although it’s certainly a tempting idea you ultimately think better of it, sliding your hand higher up to brush over his jaw instead. 

Finding Sunday’s mouth, you slide your palm over it and press down firmly to elicit a startled yet blissfully muffled sound from him. He jolts and lurches in your hold, as if only just now realizing the true scope of the danger he was in, but it’s much too late. 

Readjusting your hold on his cock in the other hand, you firmly drag your fist down and then back up, settling into a steady rhythm that continuously works the foreskin over his receptive glans. Back and forth, back and forth, up and down; rubbing, sliding, sticky slick clicking in your ears. And Sunday outright shrieks behind your fingers, twisting and tossing his head like a wild animal caught in a trap. His belt rattles softly where it’s spread open across his thighs, still twisted up in his pants, and his wings slap a furious beat that has you turning your face into his shoulder to avoid the full brunt of his ratcheting alarm. 

He’s hard to keep ahold of like this, especially when he digs his heels into the floor and tries to wrench himself free, but your physical strength proves greater. Despite being a man and in spite of having a few inches on you in height, he just isn’t equipped to fight you off. Not when you’ve got his cock in one hand, stroking it with the continuous glide of your palm over all of that sinfully smooth flesh, and the halfhearted way he shoves at your arms quickly morphs into desperate grabbing instead. 

Blindly, he latches onto you; your thighs where they bracket his shuddering hips, the bend of your arm, so he can squeeze tight and hold on for dear life. His muffled sounds of pleasure turn dazed and intoxicated as he rigidly slumps against you at last. And when he tips his head back to rest along your shoulder, tiny wings still fluttering helplessly but starting to weaken and droop, you dare to lift your face to look at him. 

Wrecked is the only word that immediately comes to mind. His usually perfectly styled hair is tousled and sweat damp where it sticks to his skin in a few places. Cheeks so hot with color you know he’d be warm to the touch. It’s the far-away glisten in his golden eyes, once so sharp and pointed, now distant and too heavy to keep fully open anymore, that really seals the deal though. Sunday’s higher functioning mind may still have been fighting against it but his body was singing like a deftly plucked chord while the violently crashing waves of pleasure slam into him with every slide of your fist. 

Feeling devious and a little too eager to stop yourself, you take advantage of his draining will to fight it and adjust your hand over his mouth so you can plunge two of the fingers inside. He squawks a decidedly undignified sound at the sudden intrusion but even his attempt to turn his head away is half hearted at best. Only somewhat reluctantly does he allow you to probe at his squirming tongue, feeling the perfect line of his teeth scrape over your knuckles when you reach back just far enough to make him gag. 

The compulsion is an odd one, you understand that much, but it’s as if your own pounding excitement won’t be satisfied until you’ve thoroughly torn down every one of his mile wide defenses. You needed to leave him debauched and utterly disillusioned from his old role, his previous identity, or this wasn’t going to accomplish what it was supposed to. How else could he be expected to move on and undertake the journey ahead of him if he was still clinging to his old ways and holding himself to the same standards as before? 

Sunday needed to see that despite his once high-minded ideals he was still just human, that his flesh and blood body was not some great sin for him to reject or punish. That he didn’t need to self sacrifice and martyr himself just for his life to have meaning. You wanted him to understand that it’s okay to be a little messy sometimes, and there’s nothing wrong with letting go of his almost fanatically held control. 

So it is with a great deal of pleasure that you keep his jaw wedged open with your fingers, carefully moving them back and forth over his tongue while he whimpers and whines so sweetly for you. It doesn’t take long for the excess of saliva to build up and dribble out at the corners of his lips, his spine dramatically flexing when he feels that first unseemly rivulet run down his jaw. His mouth works futilely around your digits, alternating between trying to spit them out or to somehow swallow around them but it doesn’t work. The drool just keeps coming, slowly bubbling out to track sticky paths down his face. 

You even catch a glimpse of shuddering moisture wetting his lash lines but you politely look away despite the eager jump in your pulse at the sight of those tears. It would have been all too easy for you to tease him for them, really lean into the humiliation he was probably feeling, but that was not your goal here. Not this time, at least. 

Instead you focus your attention back on the hand wrapped around his cock. Your ministrations had slowed to a stop while you were stuffing his mouth full and now you can see the length of him, flushed a pretty pink that almost matches his face, flexing needily against your hold. He was leaking enough precum to smooth the glide of your next upward stroke, watching in fascinated wonder as the fleshy hood of his foreskin comes up with another soft click to make the clear discharge slowly ooze down the sides of his shaft. 

His hips wildly buck and he wails a garbled noise as he needily arches up off the bed, jutting his pelvis out as if in desperate supplication for more. Both of his hands have latched onto your thighs now and he squeezes them tight enough to hurt. But you give him what he wants, what he so clearly needs, pumping your fist up and down the length of him on a steady, energetic rhythm. 

Sunday freezes like that, poised with his back bowed and his body flexed away from the mattress. Distantly, you realize that he seems to have stopped breathing altogether, holding the air in his aching lungs while the rest of him stiffly shudders and twitches steadily closer to the edge of oblivion. He was beautiful like this, like something out of a tawdry, lurid painting of some ethereal being from legend or myth. 

“Oh, Sunday,” You coo at him, so soft and gentle. Coaxing him ever towards his own ruination. “Are you going to cum for me?” 

Wailing a frazzled sound of distress around your spit soaked fingers, he gives his head the barest shake as if to deny the simple reality of what was happening. Unfortunately his own body betrays him almost instantly, and you stare in rapt fascination when his narrow hips stiffly lock up before nudging forward in a reluctant thrust. He’s holding himself far too unrelentingly to execute the full range of motion but it’s enough to have him fucking into your hand in painful, tortuously slow increments. 

He just can’t seem to help himself or smother the urge completely, even when the rolling grind of his pelvis was clearly something foreign to him. But it’s instinctive and hard coded, muscle memory carved into the very atoms of his body more than anything else. And you can see the musculature in his slim thighs trembling fiercely, the flex of his stomach dramatic while he wheezes and gasps his pleasure into the otherwise still air. You knew your fingers weren’t doing as sufficient a job at muffling him as your palm would have, but you can’t quite bring yourself to move or even care very much about that right now. 

Especially not when he gives one final, stuttering thrust into the squeeze of your hand and his cock positively erupts in a sudden spray of white. Creamy and thick, it shoots up into the air on what you would consider an impressive arc before splattering across his front. A second jet quickly follows the first, and then a third, while Sunday all but sobs through his orgasm, wetly choking on it even as he gradually sinks back down to the bed in a drained heap of splayed limbs. 

The eager pulse along his length quickly slows, oozing yet more of that clear discharge to dribble down the length of his shaft in sticky tracks before at last subsiding completely. He’s already a complete mess with various bodily fluids coating his skin but you still give him one final squeeze and drag your hand up to draw the last little bit of his release out of his flagging cock. He seethes a delirious sound in response, head lolling back in doped out bliss while he tries to even out his breathing again to no avail. 

“How was that?” You prod, smiling to yourself as you withdraw your fingers from his mouth. A sticky wad of saliva follows after you, catching on his bottom lip, and you brush your thumb up to helpfully wipe it away, ignoring the mirthless, gasping laugh he rattles out. “It looked like you enjoyed it to me. Was that really your first orgasm?”

Somewhat awkwardly clearing his no doubt dry and scratchy throat, Sunday pointedly turns his head to look elsewhere. Still shy and reticent to openly show any of his emotions, but he certainly felt more relaxed in your arms than he had before. “I wouldn’t have any reason to lie about that, would I? Or do you take me for some kind of shameless masochist?” 

Allowing a brief giggle to slip out, you lean further into him so you can find his neck and deliver a soft peck to the still thrumming pulse under his skin. Sucking in a deeply flustered inhale, he snaps his attention back around to look at you with wide, startled eyes. That makes you laugh too, much to his pouting confusion. 

“What?” He demands at last. 

“Nothing. I was just thinking how cute you really are, that’s all.” 

His brows shoot up almost too fast for you to track the motion. “Cute? M - me? But I don’t —“

“It’s alright, Sunday. Just go with the flow. You feel pretty good right now, don’t you?” Grinning at the uncertainty that flashes across his face, you lower your chin to rest against his shoulder, much like how you’d first started. Realistically only a few minutes had passed but it felt like an entire lifetime had come and gone, and yet you were still right back to this again. 

In the following silence while Sunday chews on that and mulls it over, you rove your attention down to inspect the damage you’d caused. Luckily his coat had been more or less out of the way where you’d spread it open earlier, and it looked like the quickly cooling evidence of this sneaky tryst had mostly landed in harmless flecks across the darker inner shirt underneath. That was a small relief, if you were being honest. You didn’t even want to think about all the fussing he’d do if you stained his white jacket like that. 

“Well,” he says at last, rousing you from your thoughts. “While I still think your methods are unscrupulous and incredibly underhanded … I suppose I still owe you my thanks. I do indeed feel more at ease than I did before. Now if you’ll excuse me —“ 

Quickly looping your arms around his middle when he makes a move to stand up, you yank him back against you with another laugh. “Nuh-uh. We’re not done yet, Sunny. I need to help you clean up that mess first.” 

Choking on a protest, he reaches down to shove at your arms but you don’t budge, pointedly nuzzling into him from behind as if to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere until you decided to let him go. After another brief moment of cursory struggle, he finally gives up and slumps against you with a terse click of his tongue. 

“Really, is this truly necessary?” He grumbles under his breath, lifting a hand to subconsciously wipe the remaining spit off his chin with an air of distaste. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted out of me already? I'd think you would be satisfied by now, Miss Stellaron.” 

You hum a sly sound at that, coquettishly walking two of your fingers up the front of his shirt to one of the bigger globs of milky white bleeding into the material. He goes still against you, mouth dropping open in what could only be abject shock when you swipe one of the digits through the mess before lifting it up to your face. 

Looking appropriately scandalized now, Sunday tracks the motion with wide, horrified eyes. “Wh - what are you doing? That’s —“ 

Popping your cum coated fingertip into your mouth earns you a strangled gasp and he tries to reel back from you as if in disgust. But you keep your arm locked around his middle, holding him firmly in place while you suck the digit clean. Sunday’s wings flutter an anxious beat and tuck forward to curl defensively over the lower half of his face but it does very little to hide the furious blush staining his cheeks. He looked even more like a ripe cherry ready to be plucked than when you’d been holding his cock in your hand. 

“It’s nothing to be so embarrassed about.” You tell him candidly when you slide your finger out and reach back down to swipe it through the sticky fluid on his shirt again. “You don’t taste bad, if that’s what you’re thinking. I like how you feel in my mouth.” 

His eyes nervously darting from side to side, up and down, anywhere but directly at you, he tries to speak, croaks, and then awkwardly clears his throat again. “But - but that’s … unhygienic, isn’t it? That came out of my … my - -“ 

Softly laughing at how dangerously close he seems to fainting dead away like some sort of swooning maiden in an old movie, you catch a clinging glob of his spend and lift it up towards his face this time. “It’s fine, I promise. You taste good, Sunday. I wouldn’t lie to you. Here, try it for yourself?” 

He makes a face at that, reminding you of a kid that doesn’t want to take his medicine, but at your gentle prodding he slowly lowers his wings. The drooping feathers brush against your curled fingers just so, almost making you tremble at their light touch as you watch him differentially drop his gaze. Submissive and pliable, a clear sign of his bending to your will. 

Your earlier arousal flares back to life with a vengeance, making you feel uncomfortably warm and damp between the legs. Holding the air in your lungs, you nudge your hand closer and he obediently parts his lips for you with a tiny, shuddering whimper. Eyes slipping shut when you slide into his mouth again so you can drag your fingertip across his tongue and smear the salty discharge, making sure he got a good taste of it, he issues a faltering breath that puffs against your knuckles. 

“See? Not so terrible, is it?” You murmur, your voice drawling at a lower octave than usual. Watching him come to terms with his own body was almost as distracting as the need pulsing in your loins, demanding attention and relief in equal measure. You wanted him. More of him. All of him. 

But would he have you? 

Groaning a threadbare little sound, Sunday flutters his lashes and cautiously opens them to peer over at you. For a drawn out moment the two of you just stare at one another, gazes locked and searching. Questioning. Begging. 

And then, ever so sweetly, he closes his mouth and gives your finger an experimental suck, swallowing down the evidence of your illicit activities. A stuttering exhale escapes him as you slowly withdraw your hand, giving him just enough space to breathe for a second. You wanted him to decide for himself how he wanted to proceed, what his next move should be. 

Because what you’d said earlier was the truth. You were not his jailer, nor were you going to willingly facilitate that self flagellating streak of his either. If he wanted to come to you it would be in mutual pleasure and enjoyment, as equals with a vested interest in each other's happiness. Not as punishment or penance for something you’d already decided to forgive him for. 

“M - Miss Stellaron, I …” 

The way his wings start to shyly curl inward again, wanting to hide behind them, brings another smile to your face. He really was too cute like this. “What is it, Sunny?” 

He sucks in a mildly bothered breath at that. “I told you not to — never mind. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. And you were right. It wasn’t terrible. In all honesty, nothing you’ve done today was … entirely disagreeable in my eyes. So if you’d like to … I mean, if it pleases you we could …”

“Keep going?” You helpfully offer up, making his expression pinch in obvious embarrassment. 

“W - well, should you insist I … I guess I wouldn’t have any complaints about that. But only if you want to. I don’t care either way.” 

“Sure you don’t.” Practically grinning from ear to ear now, you place your hand against his shoulder and push to get him turned around. He still refuses to look directly at you, evidently finding the pattern on your bedspread far more interesting in that moment, but he doesn’t change his mind or try to pull away when you lean into him. 

Tipping your head so you can dip into the space between his nervously fluttering wings, you find Sunday’s mouth and kiss him. Tentatively at first to see how he’ll react, but when all he does is whimper a flustered sound against your lips you press harder, letting your hunger for him dictate your actions. His hands carefully come up to slide around your neck while his wings slowly fall open, letting you in as he holds you against him, and you feel like you just might burst. 

To be wanted by someone like him felt like a blessing and a curse all wrapped up in one. By initiating this had you only sped up his ruination from perfect and holy to mere mortal, or had you just engineered your own downfall in the same breath? 

You’d find out soon enough.

⭐

Cross posted: here

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Image #1: Tumblr ask with username blocked out reading: lowkey something that irritates me w the common belief that "estrogen has less effects that T" or "estrogen is slower than T" is that, like. thats only because doctors don't give trans women the proper dose!

trans men get the correct dose of testosterone to take their levels to similar to a cis guy, but trans women are systematically underdosed because the medical establishment has a vested transmisogynist interest in ensuring we can not pass, and in making TME people believe estrogen is *weaker*

Answer with username blocked out reading: yeah it's utterly fucked. this is one of the number one reasons why people shouldn't believe all the fearmongering about DIY imo

Image #2: Tumblr tags from corpseComplex reading: #And where are you getting the information that trans men are universally given cis man level doses of t. #I have seen so many horror stories from other trans men about how their doctors were underdosing them in order to try and make them quit t #or because 'well we don't want you to ruin your beautiful impregnatable body with the ugly violent hormone teehee'

Image #3: Tumblr tags from puppyDogDevotion reading: #these people are just flat out lying about some of this now #doctors very much frequently low does trans men so we don't ""ruin ourselves"" with T

Image #4: Tumblr tags from monemin reading: #as if there isn't a post on r/ftm every few days where a guy wonders why his changes are so slow and finds out that his doctor has been #fucking. microdosing him. in order to get him to think testosterone doesn't work and stop transitioning. #people will see an issue transfems have and automatically decided that it doesnt happen to trans men based on literally nothing #(and then decide based on even less than nothing that it's actually something that benefits trans men)

Image #5: Tumblr tags from alienFagz reading: #this also ignores the fact that trans men (esp young trans men) are also frequently under dosed #idk maybe its just us #but we've been on t for 2 years and our endo has us on a pretty low dose #at least compared to what ive seen from other trans guys

Image #6: Anonymous Tumblr ask reading: "trans men get [given] the correct dose of testosterone" ..... do they? i thought it was a pretty common experience among trans men and transmascs that a lot of prescribers actually don't and more often than not transmascs and trans men find out their testosterone levels are too low months or even years down the line when they switch providers, do their own research or find out from others. /End IDs]

i fully buy that this (lowdosing) is true but oh my God why does it have to come back to "TMEs" believing that it's weaker? Why is the medical industry so invested in that? Why wouldn't it be invested in making "TMAs" believe that?

Most of the "TMEs" people refer to already have bodies that are affected by estrogen. In fact, if you actually talk to "transandrobros" you will find we often discuss how estrogen is wrongly and misogynistically portrayed as the weaker hormone, when we KNOW it isn't because it fundamentally changed our bodies in ways that require medical intervention to change again. Like. what do you think WE are gaining from trans women getting low dosed or propaganda about estrogen being weak. Why does this have to be about how the medical industry loves trans men and is only systemically against trans women. Hellloooooo

[teddypines]

Aquarium Date

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

summary: Sammy and Y/N going on a date to the aquarium after a hunt and some alone time in the car.

Sam Winchester x Gf!Reader, Fem!reader, Dean Winchester x Reader platonic.

MDNI! 18+ if you do read it i'm not responsible.

Warnings: P in V, unprotected, handjob, fingering, teasing, lots of kisses, pet names, dirty talk and a little degrading if you look just right. Car smut.

Note: This is a long one, like long, longest fic i have writen. I just really like Sammy and needed a little more then what tumblr had to offer. I'm a little sorry for traumisising the whale shark and Baby.

Words: 4233

Art/Pictures from pinterest, put together by me.

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

The hunt ended earlier than planned, which was overall a good thing, but they still had the motel room for 2 more days so Dean said they all deserved a little break before finding a new hunt. The town they stayed in had an aquarium nearby. Sam thought it would be fun to take Y/N to the aquarium, have a little fun day out, just the two of them. Have a proper date since at least three weeks. Sam even begged Dean if he could take the car just this once. Only for Dean to be difficult about even saying yes.

“No, Sam, you can go by bus or something! You are not taking Baby to an aquarium on a date. I don’t want any hanky panky in my car or for her to be stolen or something.” Dean answered as he looked at Sam and Y/N giving him puppy eyes. “We promise not to do anything dirty in your car.” Y/N Said before Sam continued the begging. “Or for Baby to get stolen. It’s just easier to go by car than by public transport. Please Dean! Just this once! We promise to not do any ‘Hanky panky’ in the car, on the car or to the car. We won’t touch your Baby.”

Dean groaned as he looked at Sam and Y/N, why did his baby brother and his girlfriend have to go on a stupid aquarium date? and why is he thinking about letting them take his precious Impala? Dean sighed and slowly nodded his head. “Fine, but no sex! And at least bring me to the cinema.”

And so Sam and Y/N went to the aquarium, dropping Dean off at the nearby cinema, in the Impala and the promise to Dean that they would do anything dirty in his car.

Y/N paid for the tickets as Sam tried to figure out how they could see everything as efficiently as possible. Once they had the tickets Sam took Y/N's hand and led the way towards the first fish tank. The two of them had a wonderful time looking at all the sea and water creatures. Y/N marveled over the clownfish and other tropical fish the aquarium had and Sam was just happy to see Y/N this happy. The way she smiled and how the blue lighting hit her gentle features made Sam feel something deep inside. She was his and he was hers. Even with all the danger and chaos they faced almost every day. Sam smiled and hugged Y/N from behind as they watched the little fishies.

Y/N liked the hug, but she could feel Sam’s excitement against her lower back. she leaned her head back against Sam’s shoulder and looked up at him. “Do I make you that happy?” She whispered to him. Sam hummed in answer and pressed his lips against her neck. “Owh so happy, darling.” 

“Does that mean I can pick out a plushie in the gift shop later?” Y/N asked, a cheeky smile on her face as Sam let out a small groan, expecting something else when Y/N started to tease him. “Fine, but just one!” Y/N beamed and quickly kissed Sam’s cheek before going to the next tank. One filled a octopus and deep sea fish and plants.

<------------------------------------------>

The two of them walked underneath the under the sea tunnel, hand in hand happily looking at the sharks and the turtles who swam about and beside them. Sam smiled at Y/N and slowly squeezed her hand three times, telling her he loved her. Y/N grinned and squeezed Sam's hand back. 

“Owh look, a nurse shark!” Y/N pointed out and pulled Sam towards the glass. “Did you know that nurse sharks don't have to constantly swim to breathe?” She looked at the nurse shark who swam over the bottom of the tank, nestling into the sand for a nap. A few other fishes swimming around the shark. “No i did not know that, but now I do thanks to my very own tour guide” Sam teasted as he looked at the nurse shark. “They kinda look like catfish, but better” He commented, studying the whisker like things around the shark's mouth.

“Yeah, definitely better than catfish, but lemon shark over nurse shark.” Y/N turned her head to look at Sam and smiled. “But you are better than any shark.” She said before giving Sam a gentle kiss. Sam wrapped an arm around Y/N as they kissed. Pulling away after a little while. “But whale sharks are your favourite.” Sam added to which Y/N nodded excited, happy he remembered her favourite shark. She leaned up again and gave Sam another big kiss. Sam had the biggest smile on his face after Y/N pulled away from this kiss. She was his normal in a world full of chaos, she was his everything.

 “Don’t look at me like that.” Y/N whispers at Sam after they walk a little further to look at some of the turtles. “Look at you like what? Like I am in love? Like I have the most beautiful girl walking beside me, loving me?” Sam smirked as the words he just said registered in Y/N’s brain. She went bright red and covered her cheeks. “Stop~” Sam leaned down and kissed Y/N’s cheek. “Never.”

<------------------------------------->

Around lunch Sam and Y/N got some sandwiches at one of the outside food trucks and sat down near the ray bay where multiple families were having lunch too. Some of the children marveling over the ray's they got to touch in the little touch tanks. Even a few of the parents and teens were touching the ray’s. One girl even screamed when she felt the slimy scales of the fish. It made her parents sigh and take her away in embarrassment. 

“I kinda get her, fish scales do feel weird for the first time.” Y/N commented as they watched the mother calm down the little girl. “Yes, but she did scream rather loudly, not that I fault her. Dean can scream louder at nothing.” Sam answered before dipping his fry into the ketchup. “Kinda feel bad for the parents.” Y/N nodded agreeing with Sam, but luckily no one gave the family mean looks or was upset that the peace was disturbed for a moment.

“After this I want to touch the ray’s too.” Y/N announced to Sammy. “Do I get a say in that?” Sam asked as a joke. a cheeky smile on his face. “No, I am going to touch all the fishies I can touch. Fish deserve love and affection too.”

<----------------------------------------->

After seeing every show and every fish, shark, turtle, sea star, ray, moon fish and bits of coral did Y/N and Sam step inside the gift shop. Sam looked at a few of the funny snow globes that were on display as Y/N got distracted by one of the biggest plushies she has ever seen. “Sammy? Can I have that one?” She asked while pointing at a big whale shark plushie on top of the highest shelf. Sam followed Y/N’s finger and his mouth slowly fell open. “Ehm…” 

“Please, Sammy! Please! it is like the most amazing plushie ever and it’s my favorite shark!” Y/N argued as she looked up at the whale shark. Sam sighed and nodded his head “Alright love, you can have the whale shark plushie.” He answered and carefully wrapped his hands around Y/N’s waist. Sam lifted Y/N up so she could grab the plushie. Y/N quickly grabbed the shark, already loving the soft fabric and the plush feeling. She giggled when Sam put her back down on her feet, looking like a little kid with how big the whale shark plushie was.

“Dork” Sammy said to Y/N as he placed a hand on her Lower back. “Yes, but I am your dork.” Y/N answered as she carried the plushie to the register. The two of them waited in line and Sam just had to tease her a bit. He leaned forward and put his head on Y/N's shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and the whale shark. “Tired?” Y/N asked as she shifted a bit to let Sam lean on her more comfortably. Sam nodded his head, seeing all the creatures and walking around for a few hours tired him out, but he still had a few plans he wanted to do that day. “Yeah, but I'll be fine after a snack and a cup of coffee.” “We’ll get coffee and some snacks at the little restaurant after this.” Y/N as she stepped forward in the line.

Sam slowly pulled back from Y/N and looked around nervously. “Actually I had a different idea…” Y/n looked back at Sam. “Different idea? Like what, drive to the nearest Macdonalds?” 

“Well not exactly. I was more thinking of going to a little to-go cafe I saw around town yesterday and then finding a nice spot to park, just you and me.” Sam Explained his idea, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping Y/N would like the idea. She nodded her head and thought about the idea. “I like that, let’s do that.” Y/N kissed Sam’s cheek. “But first you have to pay for my whale shark.” 

<-------------------Smut starts here--------------------->

“You really needed to get something with jam on it, didn’t you?” Sam asked more in a teasing way as he watched Y/N eat an Iced bun. “Like you want Dean to be mad at us.”

“But iced bun, Sammy.” Y/N whined as she struggled to not spill any of the jam in the car. Her lap filled with napkins. Sam rolled his eyes and took a bite of his cinnamon roll. 

The two of them found a little quiet spot by a lake, it’s safe Sam checked. They got chocolate milks and some pastries and the big whale shark was happily laying in the back seat of the car. There was a silence between them but it was a comfortable silence. Y/N finished her iced bun and whipped her hands before grabbing the to-go cup with her hot chocolate. she happily sipped it as Sam munched on his cinnamon roll. Without a warning or even the idea that this could happen Sam suddenly felt Y/N’s free hand on his thigh. It didn’t bother him at all, sometimes Y/N just lay her hand on his thigh. 

Sam knew Y/N loved physical touch, this was her way of showing she loved him without using any words. Sometimes they both needed it to ground themselves in this crazy supernatural world they lived in. It was innocent and normal, at least that is what Sam thought right now. Not knowing what Y/N was planning.

It stayed like this for a little while until Y/N’s slowly went a bit higher on Sam’s thigh. Sam’s breathing hitched a little and he turned his head to face her. “W-what are you doing?” He asked only to get no answer in return and a light squeeze on his thigh. “Y/N we promised Dean not to…”

“Dean doesn’t have to know. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Y/N answered as her hand slowly went more towards the growing bulge in Sam’s pants. “Besides Dean has the motel room and getting one for ourselves is expensive. Highly unnecessary even. We have the car and I'm on a safe day.” Her hand went even higher up Sam’s thigh.

Sam groaned as Y/N’s hand was placed over his jean covered cock. “But we have to make sure not to make a mess in the car.” Sam said only to turn bright red by Y/N’s answer. “Then you better make a mess inside me.”

“Back seat..” Sam growled before taking Y/N’s hot chocolate and placed it in the cupholder next to his. “Now!” 

Everything was a bit chaotic as the two of them struggled to get into the back seat of the car. Then the elephant in the room, well the whale shark in the back seat, needed to be dealt with. “Soo…” Sam hinted at the plushie. “Leave it.” Y/N answered as she pushed Sam back onto the plushie. Her hands slowly ran over his stomach lower and lower towards his cock. Sam’s hands gently squeezing her hips, liking that he could hold onto her like this, her hip dips making it easier to hold her. Owh, how Sam loved those hip dips and thighs to hold onto. Y/N slowly unbuckled Sam’s belt and unzipped his pants. “Wait, this is okay right?” Y/N asked as she hesitated a bit. Sam quickly nodded his head. “Very okay, sweetheart.”

Y/N carefully pulled Sam’s jeans and boxers down, slowly freeing his semi hard cock which bounced up. She carefully wrapped her hand around it and started to stroke in long and slow tugs. Sam’s head fell back against the whale shark plushie as he groaned. The way Y/N’s hand felt around him was amazing. His cock hardened in her hand as she continued to stroke him. collecting the little bit of pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip. Using it to make her strokes a bit more fluent. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that.” Sam tried to praise and encourage her, wanting her to know she was making him feel good. As this went on Y/N slowly started to grind against Sam’s thigh. Feeling herself getting wet from the praise and the friction between her legs.

“Come on sweetheart, arms up for me” Sam ordered as he let her hips go to take off Y/N’s shirt. His eyes dark with desire for her. Y/N listened and let Sam’s cock go for a moment. She held her hands above her head as best as possible in the car. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Sam purred as he leaned up a little to take Y/N’s shirt and bra off. “There you go, beautiful. all pretty and perky.” Sam said before kissing Y/N’s neck and shoulder, slowly going down over the curve of her breasts. He latched onto one of her nipples and gently started to suck, making Y/N whimper just the way he liked. 

Y/N struggled for a bit as she tried to jerk Sam off again, with the way he sucked her nipples made her mind go foggy. Of course Sam had this effect on her even when she wanted to please him first. “You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Sam smirked around her nipple. Y/N nodded with a small whimper in answer. She thought this was answer enough only to gasp when Sam made an attempt at slapping her ass. “Words, sweetheart” Y/N only whined, now receiving a slap on her thigh. “Come on, love, want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Feels… feels good S-Sammy.” Y/N answered finally using her words. Sam smirked again and quickly took off his shirt before helping Y/N with her jeans and panties. It was a bit of a struggle to take their clothes off in the back seat of the car, but they managed. They were lucky that the backseat had enough space for hanky panky.

“Safe day, right?” Sam asked before running his hands over Y/N’s naked body. Her hand slowly wrapped around his cock, finally getting to touch him again. Gently jerking him off, her thumb running over the slit of his tip. “Safe day” Y/N answered. “So no mess.” “Yeah, no mess, at least no mess for Dean to see” Sam teasted Y/N, before moaning once Y/N squeezed his cock out of nowhere. “Don’t kill the mood” She pouted. Sam only laughed and grabbed Y/N's wrist. pulling her hand away from his cock. “Want to feel you too, pretty girl.” 

Sam reached between Y/N’s legs and groaned. “Jeez, sweetheart, so wet for me.” He started to circle her clit at the same pace she was jerking his cock earlier. Making sure to find the spots that made Y/N roll her eyes back and moan like the little slut that she was for him. his other hand was still holding her wrist, enjoying the way she looked right now.

"Sweetheart?" Sam asked, only for Y/N to nod her head as she relished in the feeling of Sam’s fingers on her clit. “Need to feel you.” Sam groaned. Y/N looked Sam in the eyes and nodded her head. “Want to feel you too, Sammy. Please” Hearing these words Sam let go of Y/N’s wrists and took his other hand away from her pussy. Both hands went to her hips and he carefully lifted her up a bit. Minding that she didn’t bump her head on the car roof. He lowered her onto his cock. the tip poking at her clit.

“Want you Sammy. I want to feel you inside.” Y/N bit her bottom lip, not waiting for a reaction or comment from Sam. She just lifted herself up, reached down between them to grab Sam’s cock and positioned it near her entrance. Y/N giggled a bit once she saw the way Sam looked at her. Sam let himself lean back against the whale shark, his hands gently cerasing Y/N’s hips and thighs. Ever so slowly Y/N let herself sink down onto the tip of Sam’s cock. Moaning at the sinful stretch Sam’s tip already gave her.  

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart, take your time. No need to ruSH! Fuck! Y/N!” Sam tried to be gentle, but then Y/N suddenly sat down all the way onto his cock. “Fuck Y/N!” Y/N gave Sam an innocent look. “Did I catch you off guard?” She asked. “YES! a good kinda off guard, but still!” Sam answerd as Y/N giggled at his reaction. She loved it when he got like this.

Y/N slowly started to bounce up and down on Sam’s cock, starting off slow and long. Before going faster as time goes on. Sam let out the prettiest little whimpers as he held onto her. The way the fabric of the whale shark plushie lay against his back and the warm feeling of Y/N’s pussy being around his cock made this whole ordeal feel so good to him. Y/N on the other hand wasn’t thinking at all. Sam’s dick reached places inside her no one else could reach. She saw stars and her mind started to fog up again. She moaned once Sam reached up to hold her left breast. 

“Fuck baby, just like that” Sam praised “That’s a good girl. Such beautiful noises.” Sam groaned loudly as he felt Y/N squeeze her cunt around his dick at the praise he gave her. “Agh… Shit, do that again. Come on, be a good girl and squeeze my cock with that pretty pussy.” Y/N clenched her thighs around Sam’s side and her cunt squeezed his cock again. “Fuck, just like that pretty girl.” Y/N placed her hands onto Sam’s chest, needing the support to keep herself upright. Even with Sam guiding her up and down with his free hand. Y/N still felt like she was losing all the feeling she had in her legs. All because Sam was so thick inside her.

Sam started to notice that Y/N was struggling and tapped her thigh. “Sweetie. want to change positions?” He asked in a gentle but loving tone. Wanting her to know her not riding him wouldn’t be the end of things. Y/N stopped going up and down and sat silently on Sam’s cock. She didn’t answer Sam, just staying silent for a moment. “Sweetheart, it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.” Sam reassured before Y/N slowly nodded her head. “Please.” Sam smiled gently and carefully lifted Y/N off his cock. To the best of his ability he turned the two of them around on the back seat. Gently laying Y/N down onto the whale shark. Seeing how she nuzzled her head into the soft fabric in a way to ground herself and pressed her ass up a little so he could easily slip inside again. 

Sam helped her by lifting her hips up a little more and letting her right leg hang over the edge of the seats. Sam grabbed his cock and alined the two of them again. “Ready, baby?” He asked, just to make sure Y/N was still with him and okay with everything. “Yes.” She answered with a doopy smile. Sam slowly slipped inside Y/N’s pussy, making her moan. He pressed his chest onto her back and placed his head over her shoulder. “such a sweet little cunt and all for me.” Sam groaned into Y/N’s ear. He started to roll his hips against her, slowly thrusting In and out of Y/N's pussy.

Y/N could only moan as Sam slowly fucked into her. “Sammy~” She whined to which Sam answered by gently kissing her neck, leaving a few hickeys to mark her as his. “That’s it love, moan for me, let out all the pretty noises for me.” Sam growled as he tried to pick up his pace. He put his right leg on the floor of the car and used it to steady himself and to pound into Y/N’s cunt. Y/N felt her legs shake a bit as Sam pounded into her, it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t gentle.  “OWh… Fuck~ Sammy…” Y/N moaned. “Sammy~ So good.” Sam nipped at her neck and put his hand on the side window. “That’s a good girl. Such beautiful noises.” He praised Y/N when he felt her squeeze her cunt around his cock. “Oh, are you close, baby? Are you ready to cum for me, to feel me fill you up?”

Sam slowly slipped his left hand underneath Y/N and reached back between her legs. Finding her clit was easy with how much it had swelled up. He started to circle her clit at the same pace he was fucking into her, working Y/N’s body to her limit. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me. relax and let go for me baby.” Sam cooed, his thrusts slowly getting more rigid. He reached that spot inside her that made Y/N see stars once again. “Sammy! Fuck, agh… Sammy please. Ghn, please.” Y/N moaned and whimpered as Sam continued to fuck her and rub her clit, chaising her high as well as his. “Fuck! Y/N/N!” Sam groaned and before they knew it Y/N came while screaming Sam’s name. 

Sam fucked Y/N through her orgasim before coming inside her. Y/N whimpered as she rode out her high, feeling how Sam was filling her up with hot cum. Sam let himself fall onto Y/N’s back, cock still twitching inside Y/N’s dripping pussy. Both of them smiling as they lay there on the whale shark plushie on the back seat of Dean’s car. The car they promised to not have sex in. 

Sam smiled and carefully pulled his cock out of Y/N’s cunt after a few quiet moments. Pulling out made her whimper even if Sam was so gentle. He carefully pulled away the hand that was on her clit away, only to appear on her cunt again to collect the mix of his and her cum. Just admiring the way it looked. Sam then slowly helped Y/N shift around again and helped her lay down on his chest so she could take a breather, not wanting to tire her out or hurt her by going too fast. “Breath with me, sweetheart, nice and slow, in and out. That’s it, good girl.” Y/N lay on Sam’s chest for a little while, calming down and breathing just like Sam told her. The whale shark behind them is now traumatized for life.

<-----------------------Smut ends here---------------------->

After getting cleaned up the best way they could and making sure nothing got onto the car Sam helped Y/N get dressed and back into the passenger seat. They went and got new hot chocolates again on the way back to the motel. Sam held Y/N’s hand as he drove, making sure she was okay and taken care of. Y/N could only smile as she sipped on her now cold hot chocolate and watched the road, her mind still foggy, but a good happy foggy.  

The car turned off once Sam parked the car in front of the motel room. “We’re back sweetheart.” Sam whispered to Y/N, who just tiredly nodded. “Want a nap…” She whispered. “I know, love. I’ll get you to bed in just a moment.” Sam answered and then quickly left his seat behind the wheel. He firstly got the whale shark from the back. He opened the passenger seat door next and handed Y/N the plushie. “Hold that for me, love.” Y/N nodded and held onto her plushie. Sam carefully scooped Y/N up and carried her bridal style back to the motel room. Kicking the car door close behind them. 

“Hey Dean, we’re back.” Sam called out as he carried a very sleepy Y/N inside. He gently lay Y/N onto their bed and tucked her in. Not caring about the stay bra that lay over one of the chairs or the big mess in the room. He kissed Y/N’s forehead and then looked at Dean. His brother looked disheveled and his hair even more of a mess than usual. Dean gave Sam a weird look about the whale shark plushie. “She really wanted to have it, okay?” Sam explained to which Dean nodded. “And you couldn’t say no.” 

“sooo… how was the movie?” Sam asked a little unsure about if he wanted to know what just happened in the motel room. “It was fine.” Dean answered shortly. They both nodded slowly, both staying quiet for a moment. “Beer?” Dean asked. "Definitely." Sam answered.

[fangdokja]

Not really a request, but just a thought to share with you! (If that’s alright?)

Imagine Yandere! Demon King having to resort to “granting” his darling immortality, having realized that her lifespan was impeccably fleeting compared to his and demonkind. And seeing how unruly, ferocious, and self-reliant she was throughout their entire time together (or more like her captivity), he went through the trouble of binding her to him in body and soul by turning her into a succubus.

With this, she would be forced to rely on him during “feeding hours”, leaving her utterly helpless as she refuses to “feed” on other people.

Not only would this bring her closer to him, but also the fact that she’s under his dominion now as a demoness.

— Random Anon

WARNING: Semi-formal rambling and formatting. Includes Library Recommendations (nsfw + sfw).

If you guys want Reader lore? (low-key surprised people asking for Reader lore in some series) Well... I already have it all prepared. It's coming next week. Not all of Reader lore yet, but enough to tell you that Reader is not as helpless against even the Yandere! Love Interests, as one might believe:

We have four new characters coming up. And these guys are part of the top tier powerhouses, even compared to Yandere! Demon King. Most likely stronger actually. Actually maybe the strongest four man lineup in the entire series. And personally, I like these guys best. Though, unsure if I'll give them more screentime than one chapter. There's reason for that, but we'll see.

I also have four more new characters alongside these guys, but I haven't finished writing for them as of the moment.

WHY IS THIS SERIES SO POPULAR. adnljdsddsgawfuishas. Is it really 'cause it's otome isekai???? or something else hahaha. I was literally just writing about myself 😭 I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE THIS INTO AN ACTUAL SERIES.

OK, now onto the ASK + Library Recommendations (sfw + nsfw).

Nice to meet you, Random Anon :)) I'm glad you're comfortable enough to speak with me about your thoughts. Don't worry, it's fine. I'm glad you're willing and open to share ideas or thought dumps.

Also, out of topic, but I like how you guys are picking "names" and not just emojis haha. Actually, for me, I prefer you guys picking actual names of your choosing. I don't want to constrain the name picking, so feel free to name yourselves anything, when asking anonymously. It'll also help me identify you better. Just make sure it aligns with the blog RULES and Tumblr guidelines.

Ok, this is a thought. But, even in dark humor content and especially in world building. Logic and reality is a must here. I heavily dislike making non-canon lore, it's basically me writing fanfiction on my own work. I can do it, but I heavily prefer canon works only. It's also in my RULES. I will always prefer transparency and honesty, so I will be honest in my answer here. I am aware what you gave is a thought dump and an imagine-scenario, so not necessarily canon. Just sharing thoughts. But, I will expand on the reality of who Reader is.

Reader doesn't just have basic intelligence, nor a dead inside personality when it comes to romance. Canonically speaking, Reader can in fact take on the love interests. So, why does Reader rely on wit, the romance system, and no-powers-mode?

Well, that will come in the next extension of the series. Yes, I'm officially making these into a Headcanons Series. This one:

Yandere! Otome Game

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Crown Prince, Archduke, Supreme Mage, Demon King, War Hero, Master Thief, Enemy Spy, Demon Assassin

Drabbles

How do you escape a yandere harem? Asking for a very distressed friend (me).

How to Turn ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ Into a Very Literal Situation.

"Romance is a garbage genre, but if I have to play, I might as well do it on easy mode."

The love interests were bad. The backup plans are worse.

One of them wants to marry you. The other wants to make sure he never does.

Headcanons 1 : How to Survive a Reverse Harem (You Don’t) (General)

I hate it here.

Why am I saying this? Because based on the timeline of the current story with Reader officially escaping and in hiding. It's practically an impossibility for any of the Yandere! Love Interests to try capturing and doing whatever they want with Reader. Yes, impossible.

And even if there was a slim chance of capture even before the escape. Let me tell you know.

No. It's impossible.

Why am I so sure? Well, you'll know why once the new characters come out.

In actuality, all my Reader characters have lore. I just don't give it away so freely, compared to yandere lore. Why? Well, I focus mostly on yandere content for one. The other is because all my Readers are meant to have enigmatic backgrounds. No, I did not just make this because I want you all to feel more in-depth self-insert or something.

The Reader characters have actual lore in fact, all of the characters I make do. I just don't say it outright, because spoilers obviously.

I wouldn't be a psychological horror-thriller author, if I gave things away so easily. I decided to give some crumbs because of the effort Random Anon put into this message. I want you to know, Random Anon, that I appreciate you having the courage to do this, being comfortable with me, and giving me a message of substance. So, thank you.

And, it's why I'm taking this seriously, even if it may disagree with yours or others' thoughts. These crumbs are canon information on the series and characters.

Ok, I rambled a lot. But, to clarify the following:

It's impossible for Yandere! Demon King to turn Reader into a demoness. Considering it's still very early into the series, and unlike my novellas, this is still a lighthearted dark humor series. As of the moment, there will be no permanent and explicit horror factors yet. Why? Characters are still being introduced. Did you really think I'd stop at eight? haha.

Anyways. Yes, later on, it can be changed. But not now.

The Veteran Readers and those who have read my novellas, should know how I write. Take a dip and see how I actually write my horror content. Like this one, newly uploaded as well. It's not even novella length, it's also a headcanons series, if that's what you're used to:

Yandere! Author

Headcanons 1 : Fate’s Final Draft (General)

He’s the hero in his own story… and you’re his latest toy.

🔞"You like happy endings? Too bad. I don’t write those."

I recommend reading Part 2, if you want to see how I write my actual horror content.

Anyways. I'm saying this now. If you honestly think I'll write vanilla yandere content, then I'm sorry, I don't. What I mean is that ALL the Yandere! Love Interests are still part of my yandere collection. Hence, they'll do way more than just controlled feeding and monitoring lifestyles. Especially the demon race, for example.

Or, rather, the stronger they are, the more dangerous they become.

These are the kind of yanderes I generally write: Dom + Top + Older + Sadistic + Red / Black Flag Yanderes

Nor do I hold back in writing horror content.

What you gave is basically the barebones part of yandere content. Trust me when I say, Yandere! Demon King is going to do a lot worse than just isolate and force feed you. In fact, I would even say, he would NOT turn Reader into a demoness. Why? Well, let's just say, he's not as kind and collected as he seems. And I'm not talking about him simply being an emotional mess.

Would Yandere! Demon King grant Reader immortality. No, he wouldn't. Not only is it illogical for him in his eyes, but he has better plans than simply turning Reader into a doll or servant.

Not to mention, yeah, I mentioned Yandere! Demon King can be emotionally unstable. But, I don't mean in simply losing his cool and patience; thus losing his sense of rationality, then acting reckless and stupid. Or losing himself in rage and emotional turmoil. It's something better.

Also, for non-human races. Here, to give you New Readers an idea on how I write them. Read the Sukuna part if you want to know:

Novella 1 : Dominate Me, Daddy. (Brat Tamer)

🔞Will you scream? Or will you beg? (Bakugo Katsuki, Yoichi Isagi, Ryōmen Sukuna, Rex Lapis, Sunday)

I know some of you New Readers came here for dark humor, and lighthearted comedy. But. Let me tell you now, once I write actual "true yandere" content. Well, it's not for the faint of heart.

I only made the dark humor content because I was mindblocked on horror content. It's basically idea generation to me, so I can exercise my brain for erotic horror.

The true yanderes I make are hard doms + top + older + unapologetic + sadistic + does not need darling's validation + will hurt the darling + may kill the darling + truly confident in themselves.

They do not care nor need the darling's permission, validation, feelings, etc. to take what they want. They're not weaklings like that. As individuals, they are strong in their own right. Including mentality.

Yes, this also includes the yanderes in the drabbles.

Do you want to know the ONLY yanderes that won't physically hurt you? It's these guys:

Yandere! Royal Guards

Drabbles

Royal Duties: looking pretty, sitting still, watching your guards destroy the kingdom.

You got isekai’d. Now three murder machines think your blank stares are divine wisdom.

And, that's because they're engineered to protect you, not harm you. These yanderes are the only canon yanderes that will never hurt you physically. They're the ones who will protect you with their lives. Aside from them? Nothing. No one. Every single yandere in my library will hurt and may kill you. Yes. Even if they may not seem like it, even if it's dark humor content, even if they look ridiculous and dramatic.

And you know the good thing about being a psychological horror-thriller author?

No one can tell what happens next.

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[starryhyuck]

hey neighbor! (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: neighbor!mark x afab!reader

words: 2k+

summary: is it normal for your neighbor to keep delivering sex toys to your door?

genre: smut

warnings: mentions and use of dildos, butt plugs, and vibrators, anal play, fingering, spitting, pussy eating, use of fake cum, squirting, choking, creampie

this fic is exclusive to both tiers on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

Mark doesn’t really understand why this keeps happening to him.

He’s a model citizen who doesn’t ask for much. He follows a simple routine — wake up before sunrise, eat a hearty breakfast, go to work, return home before sundown, and maybe sneak a quick trip to the gym or play a few rounds of basketball with Chenle. He unwinds at the end of the night by starting a new television show or checking out a film he hasn’t gotten a chance to watch yet.

And sure, once in a while he’ll jerk off to satisfy his very normal libido.

But over the past few weeks, he keeps getting sex toys delivered to his door. High-powered vibrators, dildos stuffed with fake cum, large heart shaped jeweled butt plugs… you name it and he has it.

They’re all actually meant to be addressed to you, his very attractive neighbor, but he thinks the delivery person must not possess the ability to read or they’re getting a kick out of doing this to him. So once a week, he trudges over to your door with his tail tucked in between his legs, handing you the cardboard box shyly.

Every single time, you ask, “You opened it?”

And he responds, “I wanted to make sure it wasn’t actually for me.”

It’s only natural for Mark’s mind to wander to filthy thoughts of you putting those toys to use. He salivates at the vision of you on your knees, bouncing on a dildo and holding a vibrator over your clit while a shiny plug is nestled deep into your ass. He starts to get hard whenever he thinks about you, which proves to be a problem when he’s playing basketball with Chenle and suddenly springs a hard-on.

“What the fuck is in your pants?”

Mark glances down, swearing under his breath as he awkwardly blocks his bulge with his hands. “Uh, sorry about that, dude.”

Chenle’s face twists, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Jesus. Is it your neighbor again?”

He nods, ashamed. “It’s so bad. Today it was this little rabbit thruster with a complimentary bottle of lube.”

“Nice touch,” Chenle hums, shooting a layup and grinning when it sinks into the basket. “But you seriously need to get this fixed. I’m sorry, man, but I can’t play with you if you’re going to just be sprouting boners out of nowhere. People are going to think you have a basketball fetish.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” Mark huffs. “They keep dropping off this shit at my door! I don’t know what else to do.”

Chenle rolls his eyes. “How is it possible that you’re older than me and still act like this? It’s science, Mark. You go up to her door and ask her if you can put that toy to use. Then you fuck her, get it out of your system, and return to normal.”

want to read the rest? access both tiers on my patreon here!

[ieatmorecrispsthanyou]

Ok - as someone who's studying English Literature at a university, I get it, I really do. Wanting people to recognise that talking about the book you're interested in on tumblr is not just 'memes and shipping' but actually delving into the subtext and context and thematic discourse etc, is totally fine. I agree with you even that Dracula Daily had some very interesting meta analysis alongside the memes and shipping (and I hated doing Dracula at A level - the only mildly interesting bit was the secondary reading to me. I also don't find any of the characters interesting enough to ship.)

But this is Tumblr Dot Com. Memes, shipping, fanart and fanfiction kind of, you know, come with the territory. And, in some cases, the academic analysis you approve of was woven into the memes, shipping, fanart and fanfiction. I would ask, why are you afraid of people confusing your highbrow book analysis with 'lowbrow' memes and shipping? It kind of feels a bit academically elitist, although I'm sure that was not your intention. Anyway, my point is, people can think whatever they like about Dracula Daily - you know what experience you had, and the memes, fanart and shipping actually enhanced many people's understanding of the contexts, thematic discourse and all that jazz. The two don't have to be separate ways of enjoying media, and one isn't inherently 'better' than the other.

I may have commented about this before (though I think not because I was worried it would come off as selfish complaining), but I think enough time has passed to say it:

My biggest frustration with the perception of Dracula Daily is that it was all memes and shipping. The physical book version did not help this by choosing a format that just put memes, short posts, and fanart next to the text.

I think quite a bit of the analysis and meta commentary was what made the experience enjoyable. People were engaging with the portrayal of women, of trauma, of disability etc in the book and grappling with the ways it is not what they expected. That part was really gratifying, especially when it extended to people reconsidering their preconceived notions of classic literature.

To me it was a book club for people who also analyze for fun.

I feel like much of that was lost in some of the presentations of the experience. Dracula Daily the book didn't include long analysis. Re:Dracula brought in outside academics for commentary.

And while I'm not saying anyone had to ask me or include my analysis (I don't even agree with all my analysis anymore), it has nagged at me for a while that from the outside looking in you might think it was all memes and no nuanced discussion. It just feels like it's missing something, you know?

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday

Today was really productive day! I was inspired for two new wips(my old wips and my brain cry yeah). Anyway, meet actor Buck and basketball player Tommy that was inspired by Oliver's all star game, and the baby trapping (with a twist where Tommy traps himself with Buck's baby) inspired by my post and tags

Moodboards and edit for actor/player

Little snippet for baby trapping:

"Do you want to feed her?" Evan asks, not looking at him checking the temperature of the bottle.

"I don't know how to do it," Tommy confesses sheepishly.

"I can teach you."

And what can Tommy do except agree?

And long under cut for actor/basketball player:

After rubbing his eyes five times and rereading the short post - Going to coach a team blue. Who should be in it?- on his screen a dozen more times, Buck calls Eddie.

His manager can do anything he wants, sell his ass or soul to whoever he needs to. But Buck will play.

The second the call connected he’s throwing his words at the man.

“I need you to put me in an ‘all star celebrity game’. Blue team.”

Eddie is silent and Buck checks his phone to see the call wasn’t disconnected. 

“Hi, Buck. I'm fine, thanks for asking,” finally the bitchy answer comes, and Buck rolls his eyes.

Doesn’t Eddie understand that life or death matters?

“Eddie, I'm not playing. I must play it this year. In blue time.”

“Why?”

“Because of Tommy Kinard, duh,” he answers.

“Ok? You know you sound like a teenager right now? What if I will put you under home arrest?”

“Eddie, you won’t!”

“Annoy me more and I will, young man,” Eddie says in his dad voice.

“We’re the same age!”

“And yet, I’m the mature one,” Eddie deadpans and Buck shrugs. Maybe Eddie is more mature. Buck won’t let him win. “Anyway, why is it so important for you to be in Kinard’s team? Besides him being one of the best players of the last fifteen years?”

“Tommy Kinard was my bi awakening when I was 15 and was watching him play. I saw that man running, his dick jumping in those shorts and I was like ‘yeah, I want to bounce on it’,” Buck licks his lips opening his tumblr on the laptop and checking the latest gif of that monster jumping in Kinard's shorts during the last game.

Damn, Buck wants to be destroyed by it.

“Too much information,” Buck can hear Eddie growing in disgust. 

“I'm sorry. But now you understand why? I must meet him Eddie. I want him to train me for that game.” 

“You want to meet your celebrity crush? Why do I feel it's not just platonic?”

 “Because it's not. I wanted to bounce on that dick for ten years. And I finally have a chance,” Buck rolls his eyes again. 

How does Eddie not understand? Would he not fuck the actresses from one of his telenovelas if he had a chance?

 “Why are you so sure you're his type? He can be straight.” 

“Eddie, Tommy Kinard came out two years ago. And I saw men he likes. I AM his type. And I will bounce on that dick. If not before the game then after. But I'm sure I will bounce on that dick the night after our first meeting. 

“Can you please stop talking about bouncing on his dick and I promise you're on the team?” Edddie basically begs and Buck takes pity on him.

 “Deal.”

 “Good. And don’t forget protection for your leg,” Buck agrees and then Eddie, with a smirk Buck can hear, adds, “and condoms.”

Buck laughs.

 “Don't worry about it, dad. I promise not to get pregnant.”

“Keep the daddy issue for Kinard.”

“Ah, do you think he would love me calling him daddy?”

Buck feels his dick throbbing in interest and bites his lip, not to traumatize Eddie.

“BYE, BUCK!”

Eddie drops the call and Buck just shrugs, opens his laptop, with his favorite video of all the best shots of Kinard’s dick - he’s not the only fan of that obscene thing - and takes the lube and dildo out.

He should train for the real game.

Np tagging @hippolotamus @mmso-notlikethat @quintessenceofdust88 @theotherbuckley @powersuitup @diazsdimples @typicalopposite @laundryandtaxesworld @lavenderleahy @leashybebes @midsummersmorn @monsterrae1 @weewookinard @ravipanikking @racerchix21 @devirnis @agentpeggycartering @aringofsalt @bi-buckrights @pirrusstuff @setmeatopthepyre @hyperfocusthusly @epiphainie @loucifersbitch @repressedqueen @perfectlysunny02 @bigfootsmom @bewilderedbuckley @diazheartsbuckley @aplaceinme @cliophilyra and anyone who wants to

[thyras]

→ of ashes & flame ( I )

PAIRING → mairon | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 4.2k words

SERIES → of ashes & flame (osatm universe)

WARNINGS → just all the fluff you could ever want, redemption au, ooc!sauron, fix-it fic

SUMMARY → what if mairon kept the door shut? what if he never went back to morgoth? how would middle-earth look? and how would morgoth have faired without his faithful lieutenant?

AUTHORS NOTE → so i know there has been some stuff said around this type of fic, and it has been why i've held back on releasing it into the world here on tumblr but I really needed to cleanse my palette before finishing of sauron & the moriquendi, it was making so angered by him, and this has been sitting in my drafts SO long. i am not a redemption girlie, I love my men irredeemable and just evil but I was having so many thoughts that it sprang into this. this will kind of just be a thing I touch whenever I'm inspired. i have a bunch of fics planned for when I finish my current one so stay tuned. this story picks up right after chapter three of the main fic.

masterlist

“And what draws you from our marriage bed, husband?” you asked, rolling onto your side to face him.

Mairon stood at the window, his bare form silhouetted against the moonlight streaming in. His hair gleamed like molten copper, cascading down his muscular back. You propped yourself up on an elbow, admiring the sculpted lines of his body—the power and grace contained within his frame.

"I could not sleep, my love," he replied softly, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of the night sky. "My mind is restless, even with you by my side."

You rose from the bed, the sheets slipping from your naked form as you padded toward him. Wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, you pressed yourself against the warmth of his back, resting your cheek against the smooth expanse of his skin. The steady rise and fall of his breath was a quiet rhythm beneath you, grounding yet distant.

"What troubles you, Mairon? On this night of all nights, when our union has been blessed and celebrated?"

He sighed, his fingers covering yours where they lay against his stomach. “Nothing that I wish to burden you with,” he murmured, though when he glanced over his shoulder, he offered you a small, fleeting smile.

Mairon did not need sleep. In truth, he had never truly yearned for it, though there were times when he had indulged in its embrace for your sake, if only to lie beside you in quiet companionship. But tonight, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. His thoughts raced, though they carried a newfound clarity—sharp and unfettered.

He could go anywhere now. Do anything.

For the first time in an age, he was free. Free of the chains that had bound him to his master, free of the suffocating will that had once governed his every move. He could breathe in his own mind again, unshackled and unafraid.

His fingers trailed up to the red stone resting against his chest. He had feared it would burn him, that it would taint his flesh the moment it was placed upon him. But it did not. It pulsed gently against his skin, warm yet harmless, as if it had always belonged to him.

It was you who had tempered his wayward soul, who had reached into the depths of his darkness and drawn him back into the light. Though there had been moments of temptation—instances where the pull of his past had threatened to consume him once more—it was your unwavering presence that had anchored him.

That elf who had sought to claim you, to take you from him, had nearly been his undoing. The fury had burned hot, his hands had itched to remind the world that you were his. And yet, in the very moment when his resolve had wavered, when his instincts had nearly won, it was your voice—calm and steady, unshaken in your faith in him—that had guided him back.

He wanted to be better for you.

No—he would��be better for you.

And now that he was free to do so, nothing in all of Arda would stand in his way.

"Tell me, my love," you whispered, your lips brushing against his shoulder blade, "what thoughts race through your mind on this night of our union?" Your voice was soft, yet there was something deeper in it, an unspoken plea to share in the labyrinth of his mind.

Mairon turned within your embrace, his sea-foam eyes locking onto yours with such intensity that your breath hitched. His hands found your hips, his grip neither possessive nor tentative—just warm, steady, reverent. "I think of the future, Tintilmë," he murmured, your new name slipping from his lips like a sacred vow. "Our future, and all that it may hold."

You tilted your head, a knowing smile curving your lips. "And what do you see in that future, husband?"

Your fingers trailed up his chest, tracing the elegant lines of his form with a touch so featherlight it sent a shiver through him. He leaned into your caress, his own hands rising to meet yours, lacing his fingers between them.

Every time he looked at you, he was struck by the sheer radiance you carried. It was not merely beauty—though you were beyond compare—it was something deeper, something woven into the very essence of your being. You were light incarnate, and he was drawn to you as the tides were to the moon.

It was no wonder the ellyn had come from near and far to seek your hand in those early days. You had been a beacon, a vision of the finest artistry the Valar had ever bestowed upon the world. Mairon imagined that the very earth from which you had sprung must have been cradled in Yavanna’s tender hands, kissed by Varda’s starlight, blessed by the dewdrops of a moonlit eve.

And yet, for all the world’s adoration, it was he whom you had chosen. He, who had been marred by shadow and flame, who had been unworthy of your light. That you had bound yourself to.

In the beginning, his deeds had been utterly nefarious toward you. He had sought only to taint what was most pure, to twist and claim that which had been untouched by shadow. You had been a challenge, a radiant flame that he had once longed to snuff out—or perhaps, more truthfully, to bend until it burned only for him.

But the more he dwelled in this flesh he had fashioned for you, and only you, the more he found himself… changed. Humbled.

What had begun as a game of corruption had become something far greater, something he had never anticipated. He had come to see the unspoiled beauty of it all—not only in you, but in the world you belonged to.

Mairon had always craved beauty. He had shaped the world with his hands, refining and perfecting, striving to mold all things into their most exquisite form. And here, in this budding elven village, he had found a beauty beyond his own making. A beauty that did not need to be altered or reforged, but simply was.

He had found that in you.

You, who had once been a prize to claim, had become something else entirely. You had become his purpose. His guiding star.

And he, for all his countless years of forging and shaping the world, had never before been shaped in return.

But you had changed him. And he had let you.

Your raised brow brought him back to your question, grounding him in the moment. His fingers traced a slow path up your chest, coming to rest against the shimmering blue moonstone that lay nestled above your heart.

He had fashioned it for you with his own hands, carefully shaping the gem to perfection. It was not of Varda’s divine craft, but Mairon’s mastery of jewel-making was unparalleled, and the stone gleamed with a brilliance that rivaled the stars.

One of his apprentices had once mentioned, as they toiled over its design, that a moonstone was the ideal gift for a wife. A talisman of protection, its power was said to watch over its bearer, especially through the sacred journey of motherhood. It aided in fertility, in healing, in ensuring the well-being of the one who wore it.

And so, when he had set about crafting something worthy of you, it could be nothing else.

The stone pulsed softly beneath his touch, and for a fleeting moment, he imagined the life it might safeguard—the promise of a future yet unwritten, one that belonged to both of you.

At last, Mairon spoke.

“I see us,” he murmured, his voice low and certain. “With bountiful life, gleaming in the joys of parenthood, walking through the Ages hand in hand. Only knowing love and light in this world we now call our own.”

His words hung between you, a vow woven into the night, a vision of a future where darkness could never touch you again.

Nor could it touch him.

Your breath caught at his words, your heart swelling with a joy so profound it threatened to overwhelm you. The vision he painted—of a life bathed in love and light, untouched by shadow—was more radiant than anything you had ever dared to dream.

For so long, you had lived in the uncertainty of what the future might hold, walking a path where light and darkness wove together in an intricate, perilous dance. But now, standing in the embrace of the one who had once been fire and wrath, and who now wished only to be warmth and devotion, you could see that future clearly.

A future that belonged to both of you.

"Mairon," you breathed, emotion thickening your voice. Your fingers brushed over his cheek, tracing the sharp elegance of his features as you gazed up at him with reverence. His skin was warm beneath your touch, as if the fire that once consumed him had softened, tempered into something gentler—something he had made just for you.

"There is nothing I desire more than to walk that path with you," you whispered. "To bring forth life born of our love, to nurture it together beneath the stars."

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—something deeper than longing, something ancient and unspoken. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as if afraid you might slip away.

But you wouldn’t. You never would.

You leaned in, seeking his lips with your own, and he met you in kind. The kiss was soft, reverent—no longer a battle of wills, no longer a conquest, but a silent affirmation of the promise you had made to one another. A vow that no force in the world could break.

When you parted, Mairon rested his forehead against yours, his eyes drifting shut as if savoring the moment, as if committing every breath, every heartbeat to memory.

"I would move the very foundations of Arda to make it so," he vowed quietly.

And you believed him.

For Mairon was a maker of worlds, a weaver of great works. And now, his greatest creation would be the life you built together.

After he had settled you back into bed, his warmth wrapped around you like a cocoon, lulling you into a slumber so deep that not even the passing of time could rouse you. He lingered there for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your breath, the peaceful way you surrendered to sleep in the safety of his arms.

Leaving you was not easy.

For a long moment, he simply remained, his fingers ghosting over your skin, memorizing the way you fit against him as though you had been made for no other. He had always been reluctant to part from you, but tonight, the weight of his resolve made it even harder.

Still, he knew what had to be done. And it would take every ounce of his cunning and persuasion to make his dream a reality.

With silent precision, he slipped from the bed, retrieving his garments from where they had been carelessly discarded hours earlier. The rich fabric clung to him as he dressed, his movements slow, deliberate, as if each layer added another shield between him and the vulnerability of the moment he had just shared with you.

Then, without another glance—lest he lose his resolve entirely—he made his way downstairs toward his study.

The air was cool, the stone beneath his feet colder still, but he paid it no mind. As he entered the room, the heavy wooden door creaked slightly before closing behind him with a whisper. Shadows stretched long across the space, remnants of the night’s darkness clinging stubbornly to the corners.

With a flick of his fingers, the once-extinguished candles flared to life, their flames casting a warm, golden glow upon the walls. The soft flicker of light illuminated the intricate designs carved into his desk, the carefully arranged stacks of parchment, the countless designs and correspondence that had been left unfulfilled due to the nature of the day.

Though he rarely indulged in the use of his power, there were moments—quiet, unseen moments—where the smallest exertion of will made life infinitely easier. And here, alone in the stillness of his sanctuary, there was no one to watch. No one to question.

With a measured breath, he took a fresh sheet of parchment from the neatly stacked pile and settled into his chair. The wood creaked beneath his weight, a familiar sound in the stillness of the room.

Reaching for his quill, he dipped it into the inkwell, watching as the dark liquid clung to the tip before pressing it to the page. The scratch of ink against parchment filled the quiet space as he began to write, each stroke deliberate, each word chosen with precision.

He only knew of one person who might grant him an audience—one who was wise, perhaps even wiser than himself. One who bore the same timeless grace as the elves he now lived among.

Someone who, if he played his cards right, might welcome his efforts, might see the sincerity in his desire to walk the path of light once more.

Or so he hoped.

His fingers tightened around the quill. Hope. It was a fickle thing, a dangerous thing. But he had you now. You, who had reshaped him in ways even he could not fully comprehend. If ever there was a time for hope, it was now.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his thoughts, then continued writing.

This letter would be the first step toward the future he had promised you. And he would see it through—no matter the cost.

Weeks had passed, each day stretching with quiet anticipation, but Mairon had remained patient. He had long since mastered the art of waiting.

Now, as he stood in the forge, assisting one of his apprentices in tempering a blade, he felt it—the familiar, delicate trickle of your fëa brushing against his own. Even before he turned, he knew you were near, your presence a warmth that never failed to reach him, even in the heart of his work.

When he did turn, his sharp gaze immediately caught the smile adorning your face, the way your eyes gleamed with excitement. But it was the beautifully decorated parchment you held in your hands that truly caught his attention.

The heraldry was unmistakable.

The response he had been waiting for.

Mairon removed his gloves with practiced ease, passing them to his apprentice before offering a curt nod of dismissal. Without another word, he crossed the forge toward you, his expression unreadable, but his mind already racing through possibilities.

As you stepped through the threshold, he greeted you with a soft kiss on your cheek, and in return, your fëa glowed warmly against his own, sending a pleasant heat across his skin.

“I did not expect to see you today,” Mairon mused, tilting his head as he studied you. “I thought you were taking your little ducklings to Aldavírin.”

He always took great pleasure in teasing you about your students, knowing well that it never failed to draw a bright, exasperated smile from you.

Sure enough, you huffed a small laugh, rolling your eyes before holding up the parchment between you, tapping it lightly against his chest in playful reproach.

“I was,” you said, “but this arrived just as I was leaving.” Your expression shifted, curiosity flickering in your gaze as you tilted your head at him. “So tell me, melda, why did you write to Queen Melian?”

Mairon allowed himself the smallest of smirks.

There were few who could surprise you, fewer still who could elicit that careful suspicion in your tone.

He reached for the parchment, his fingers grazing yours as he took it from your grasp.

“Can’t it be a surprise?” he purred, amusement lacing his tone as he watched your brow arch even higher in suspicion.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You know I hate secrets,” you said, crossing your arms, the annoyance in your voice unmistakable.

Mairon sighed, though there was no true frustration in it—only quiet indulgence. He had always known you to be unwavering in your need for honesty, unwilling to be left in the dark about matters that concerned the both of you.

Even if he had held onto the lie of his true nature, of what he really was.

He stepped closer, closing the space between you as he reached up, his fingers grazing your cheek before tilting your chin just enough to hold your gaze. Then, with slow intent, he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips barely brushing against your skin as he exhaled softly.

“Just trust me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I am doing this for us.”

His voice was low, steady, filled with something deeper than mere reassurance. It was a promise, woven with the same conviction that had burned in his eyes when he first spoke of the future he wished to build with you.

His fingers trailed down the side of your face before settling lightly against your collarbone, just above the moonstone pendant he had crafted for you.

“For the future I promised you,” he added, his words carrying the weight of something far greater than a simple secret.

Something already set into motion.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders softening as your fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic, gripping the material as if to anchor yourself to him. Then, with quiet resolve, you lifted onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips—soft, unhurried, yet filled with the weight of something undeniable.

“I trust you with my life, melda,” you whispered against his mouth.

Once, long ago, had he still been the being he once was, those words would have been a deliciously cruel irony. A trap of your own making. To entrust him—him—with something as sacred as your very existence would have been nothing short of folly.

Back then, he might have smiled, slow and dangerous, reveling in the power of your misplaced faith.

But here and now, your words did not feed his pride.

They filled him instead with warmth, with purpose, with something far greater than any triumph he had ever known.

His hands came to rest at your waist, grounding himself in the quiet certainty of your touch.

And for the first time in all his long years, Mairon found himself wanting, more than anything, to be worthy of the trust you so freely gave.

“Go,” Mairon said, releasing you with a final brush of his fingers against your waist. “I do not wish to keep your ducklings waiting.”

His lips curled slightly as he watched you, amusement flickering in his gaze. He knew well enough that if you were late, it would be his fault, and though you would never blame him outright, your students would surely hear a heavily implied tale of his distractions.

You huffed a small laugh, taking a step back toward the entrance, but not before tilting your head at him playfully.

“I will see you at dinner,” he promised.

“Of course,” you added, taking another step back, now walking in reverse as if reluctant to part from him just yet. “Though I expect a full report on what she says. It’s not every day one gets to hear the words of a Maia.”

Mairon snorted softly to himself at that, shaking his head as he reached for the parchment once more.

If only you knew.

The irony of it all did not escape him.

If you only knew the countless words he had exchanged with beings far beyond the realm of elves—some benevolent, others far less so. If you only knew how easily he could speak the tongue of the Ainur, how once, long ago, his voice had shaped the very world you now walked upon.

And yet, for all his past, all his power, it was your words, your voice, that held him here.

That mattered more than all the whispers of the Ainur combined.

After settling into his workshop’s study, Mairon unfurled the parchment with careful precision, his fingers smoothing over the delicate script as his eyes began to trace each meticulously penned word.

The handwriting was unmistakable—graceful, deliberate, woven with an elegance that could only belong to one of the Ainur.

Melian.

Her response was brief yet cordial, her tone warm but still carrying the weight of regality, of wisdom beyond even his own years.

"Dearest Mairon," it began.

"Your request has been received and considered with great interest. The path you seek to walk is one of great importance, and your sincerity has not gone unnoticed."

His brow furrowed slightly as he read on, his mind already parsing the careful phrasing, weighing each word for the deeper meaning beneath the surface.

Melian had always been a weaver—not only of enchantments, but of words, of diplomacy, of foresight. She revealed only what she wished, and yet even in her measured responses, she spoke volumes.

"I would be most pleased to grant you an audience, to discuss further the matters you have raised. Your presence is requested in Menegroth at your earliest convenience. We have much to speak of, you and I."

Mairon exhaled slowly, fingers tapping against the edge of the parchment.

It was not a dismissal, nor a denial, which meant she was willing to entertain the notion that he could be something other than what he had once been. That in itself was progress.

But it was also a test.

He knew better than to believe that Melian would accept his words at face value. She would weigh his every syllable, his every glance, the very cadence of his fëa itself, and determine for herself if he was truly what he claimed to be.

Still, she had not rejected him outright. That, too, was telling.

A slow smile curved his lips.

It had been an age since he had last stood before one of his own kind who did not look upon him with scorn. Who did not see him as a threat, a being tainted beyond redemption.

Melian, for all her wisdom, was neither fool nor coward.

If she was willing to listen, then perhaps, just perhaps, his path had already begun to unfold exactly as he had intended.

"Must you go alone?" you pouted, arms crossing as you watched Mairon tighten the cinch on his horse. The beast let out a soft huff, shifting beneath his firm touch, but Mairon barely seemed to notice—his focus remained entirely on his preparations, methodical and precise.

"I would love to see the great halls of Menegroth," you added, stepping closer, your voice carrying the unmistakable lilt of longing.

Mairon turned then, chuckling softly before leaning down to capture your lips in a lingering kiss. His hands, still roughened by the forge, came to rest against your waist, holding you close for a fleeting moment before he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.

"I know, melda," he murmured against your lips, his voice warm with understanding. "But this journey, I must make alone. There are matters I must discuss with Queen Melian that require… discretion, for now."

Your brow furrowed slightly at his words, a flicker of concern shadowing the light in your eyes. "Discretion?" you echoed, tilting your head, your fingers tightening where they clutched at the fabric of his tunic. "What could be so secret that you cannot share it with me, your wife?"

Mairon exhaled slowly, the breath warm against your skin as he reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that belied the weight in his gaze. His fingertips lingered, a silent reassurance, before he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin.

"It is not a matter of trust, Mori," he said, voice low and steady. "You know I trust you with all that I am. But there are some paths that must be walked alone before they can be shared." He paused, his green eyes searching yours, his next words softer, yet no less resolute. "Even with one's beloved."

You held his gaze, searching for something—some reassurance that this journey would not take him further from you, that whatever lay ahead would not put an unseen distance between your hearts.

Finally, with a reluctant sigh, you loosened your grip on his tunic, your hands falling away to rest at your sides.

“I will miss you greatly,” you admitted, your voice tinged with sadness. “Hurry back to me.”

Mairon’s expression softened, and though he did not say it, you felt the silent promise in the way he pressed one last kiss to your forehead before stepping away.

He took the reins of his horse, mounting in one smooth, effortless motion. With a final glance back at you, his lips parted as if to speak—but instead, he simply offered you a knowing smile before turning toward the road ahead.

And with that, he was gone, the steady rhythm of hoofbeats carrying him away toward the twilight-shrouded horizon.

[pathologicalreid]

if you hate ai that much for stealing your work, why won't you quit writing fan fiction with licensed characters. you write with characters that are not even yours, so quit using somebody else's work right?

Hi Anon, my reasonings for hating AI span far and wide, my issues with work being stolen is more closely associated with c.ai creators who are stealing fics from Tumblr and feeding them into c.ai. The legal leg that I would have to stand on in regard to making a claim against a company like Open AI stealing my work would be shaky at best. The issue of AI stealing work spans further than the world of fanfiction. I would recommend looking into The New York Times v. Open AI to learn more about the issues with stealing work and feeding it to generative AI platforms. I've linked the filing for you to read, since you're so interested in this argument.

I assume you've read this post by my friend, you might even be the Anonymous User who started the discussion. For the sake of time, I'm going to try to refrain from repeating anything that she's already covered. However, I'm under the impression that you've chosen to avoid looking into the information and sources that she so kindly provided for you. Much like her, I'm going to provide you with answers to the best of my ability as well as sources. I'll be focusing on intellectual property laws, which is what you begin to graze the surface of in your ask.

I don't use trademarked material in my fanfiction, this would be a logo or audio that has been registered by Criminal Minds or, more specifically, CBS and Paramount Global. Therefore, I have to assume the "license" you're talking about is referring to copyright, but if you elect to have this argument with someone else in the future, I would refine your language. A copyright license is typically something granted by the copyright holder to a third party. This would be used for functions such as secondary transmissions of previously aired television, I've linked the U.S. Copyright Office's information on it for you.

You're right, the character's I write about are not mine, unless you're including the different "_!reader" variations that I use, which I would consider to be mine. If you're wondering whether or not I can do that, the answer is yes. Despite the fact that I do not own the copyright nor do I have any specific licensing to write fanfiction, my work is still protected because it is my intellectual property. This argument can be considered a slippery slope, and it is earlier to use other defenses should it come to that. Additionally, I feel it is pertinent to mention that registering copyright is completely voluntary, the main benefit of registering with the U.S. Copyright Office is that it enables you to bring up infringement suits.

Now, if CBS did see my fanfiction and decided to do something about it, their first course of action would be to issue a cease and desist. At which point, I would remove the work they refer to in the letter from my blog and no further action would be taken. Cease and desist is generally the first course of action in intellectual property dispute, exceptions may be held for trade secrets. Now, you don't need to play IP Vigilante for them, CBS is a multimedia conglomerate worth almost two billion dollars. I'm sure they appreciate your concern, but they're doing just fine, even with my fanfiction in the world. If you wish to bring this to their attention, their website asks for copyright concerns to be sent to the following:

CBS Interactive Inc. Attn. Designated Agent 680 Folsom Street San Francisco, CA 94017 designatedagent@cbs.com phone: (415) 344-2000 fax: (415) 344-1241

Now, what would they do following a cease and desist? Say I'm so impertinent that I don't allow CBS/Paramount to intimidate me into deleting my fanfiction from Tumblr. In copyright infringement cases, the burden of proof falls on the plaintiff, in this case CBS/Paramount, and they would need to prove that they have a valid ownership of the copyright, that the defendant (me) copied the work, and that such copying constitutes unlawful appropriation. My argument would be that fanfiction falls under fair use. In order to prove that the copying is unlawful, they would need to go through the Four Factor Fair Use Test:

The purpose and character of your use.

The nature of the copyrighted work.

The amount and substantiality of the portion taken, and

The effect of the use upon the potential market.

Note: A factor test means that only one "factor" would need to be satisfied for judges to make a decision. This is different than an element test where every "element" needs to be satisfied. Jennifer M. Romig & Mark Burge, Legal Literacy and Communication Skills: Working with Law and Lawyers (2020).

With all of this in mind, let me remind you that I don't make money off of fanfiction and I have no interest in making money off of fanfiction. It's acknowledged by IP Law professionals that fanfiction writers and copyright owners have a symbiotic relationship that only breaks down when fanfiction writers begin to charge for their work. This happens more often when fans dabble in visual media, which I'll address in the next paragraph. Things like fanfiction and edits have improved the defendant's argument, as I oftentimes see people say that fanfiction or fanart or fan edits encourage people to watch Criminal Minds. Furthermore, even acknowledging that I'm not the original owner of those copyrights wouldn't protect me from an infringement claim, which is a very common misconception.

Do I think it's likely that CBS/Paramount would ever sue a fanfiction writer on the basis of copyright infringement? No, I really don't. The main reason for that is that the publicity would not reflect well on the company. Company's do a lot to save face, and this would be an instance of that. While Paramount has never issued guidelines on fan-produced media regarding Criminal Minds, in 2016 they issued guidelines on fan produced media regarding Star Trek. These guidelines were released by the company and clearly states "CBS and Paramount Pictures are big believers in reasonable fan fiction and fan creativity." This statement came in the wake of a Kickstarter that raised $638,000 to create a full-length feature film set in the Star Trek universe. Now, maybe I'm just being humble, but I don't think my Tumblr blog has the same reach as that Kickstarter. It is for this reason that I believe my fanfiction falls under the "reasonable" umbrella provided by CBS and Paramount Pictures. If you still want to report me, I'd recommend looking into reporting the thousands of users under the "criminal minds fanfiction" tag on Tumblr and the 39,029 works tagged with "Criminal Minds (US TV)" on Archive of Our Own as well. If CBS were to bring legal action against me, they'd be setting a precedent for every other fan creator out there, you might as well point them in the right direction.

You may also notice that I've been heavily dependent on U.S. Copyright Law, this is because CBS is located in the U.S. and no other reason.

Finally, I want to take a moment to tell you that nothing produced by artificial intelligence can be protected by intellectual property laws. The U.S. Copyright Office has been unwavering in their refusal "to register copyrights for artworks created by artificial intelligence systems. The prima facie reason is a lack of authorship because the U.S. copyright regime recognizes only humans as authors" (Wang, 2024). If you're interested in learning more about this, I'd recommend looking at the Copyright Act of 1976 and the Lanham Act (Trademark Act of 1946) because those are two forms of intellectual property that people come into contact with most often, in my opinion.

Next time you choose to argue with someone over the law, I'd fact check your materials before submitting an anonymous message. I'd also recommend making sure they don't have a master's degree in legal studies. This topic is not open for debate until you come to me full educated on what you wish to discuss and further messages will be deleted on the basis of your own ignorance. I know exactly what I'm doing when I write things on Tumblr, do you?

Best,

Margot