#it really heightens the plot

[lorephobic]

“the class commentary in saltburn was shit” WHAT CLASS COMMENTARY???? NOT EVERY MOVIE WITH RICH PEOPLE HAS TO OR SHOULD HAVE CLASS COMMENTARY. EMERALD FENNELL KNOWS VERY WELL THAT SHE IS NOT THE RIGHT DIRECTOR FOR A MOVIE ABOUT CLASS COMMENTARY WHICH IS WHY SHE DID NOT WRITE A MOVIE ABOUT CLASS COMMENTARY.

[crowley1990]

I dreamt up a whole Shakespeare play last night that doesn’t even exist and I’m like wow, it had all the beats. Set in Italy, had merchants and rich men, giving people false information to trick them into locations, there was a play within a play which was used to stage a murder… But I never worked out how it resolved and that’s when I realised I didn’t actually know it and it wasn’t real.

[daisywords]

absolutely DEVASTATING starlightverse thought. hold on

[nateezfics]

PRETTY PINK

PAIRING — hongjoong x reader

GENRE — romance, smut, pwp, established relationship, boyfriend!hongjoong, softishdom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fem!reader, reader is so whiny cuz joong likes to tease :’))

WARNINGS — no plot just smut, unprotected sex//creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (joongie, baby, sweet girl, pretty girl, little girl), praise with degradation, some dacryphilia, lots of teasing, sexual language, intentional lowercase and small font, intentional word abbreviations, uhhh this isn’t really proofread oopsie

WORD COUNT — 2.1k

SUMMARY — you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.

you huffed and your lips puckered into a pout. you grabbed a handful of pink strands and tugged, hoping that maybe if you yanked just enough you’d finally get what you want. “joongie…”

there was a laugh. hot breath blew against your sensitive sex. you knew he wasn’t going to budge. “such a pouty baby,” hongjoong teased and if you weren’t so desperate to cum, you would’ve squeezed his head off with your thighs. you didn’t bother to lift your head to look, his tone was enough to tell you that he was enjoying this; enjoying your torture. “joongie, joongie, joongie. is that all you know how to say?”

he was mocking you. your face was hot in both embarrassment and frustration. you opened your mouth to speak but words died in your throat when he suckled your clit again. your eyes rolled, your hand that was holding his hair growing tighter. your orgasm was just within reach. you could taste it. your nerves were heightened and your clit throbbed pitifully. but your oh so sweet boyfriend had been denying you of it for some time now, leaving you frustrated and desperate. the need for release was growing borderline painful.

hongjoong laid between your legs comfortably, your knees thrown over his shoulders, your heels digging into his back. he pulled back from you, releasing your achey bud with a lewd pop!. your pitiful little mewl reached his ears and he smiled while his thumbs spread your lips apart. he watched your leaky hole closely, admiring how pretty and swollen it was for him. “such a pretty pussy. so cute and pink and messy.” he leaned in to kiss your clit before swiping his tongue through your folds. he hummed in delight as your slickness coated his tongue.

you lifted your head to peer down at him. through the pink fringe that covered his face you could see his eyes; they were on your pussy, and a serene expression rested on his features. he looked so peaceful, so calm. everything you were not. he was in no hurry it seemed while you were quickly losing patience. not that you had much to begin with. “joongie,” you breathed, “please, i need to cum. so bad it hurts.”

he casted his eyes upwards while his tongue swirled around your throbbing clit. “i know, pretty girl. i know.” you wiggled and squirmed and your heels dug into his back. “you’re just so cute when you’re all pouty. but you can trust me, right? my pretty girl will get to cum soon.”

you all but sobbed. you were so close, his tongue doing just enough to get you to the edge, but not enough to push you over it. a symphony of moans fell from your lips as he continued his sweet torture on your clit. you wanted to buck your hips, to grind into his face for more friction, but his hold kept you rooted to the mattress. he worked you up to the edge yet again, and just when you thought he was finally giving in, his tongue left your clit.

hongjoong kissed your clit again and chuckled at the way you sobbed. “my sweet girl’s so close. gonna make you cum, baby. make you feel so good.”

you whimpered, wiggling against his hold. “joongie, please, i can’t! need to cum. please!” your breathing was growing frantic, your eyes watering, and cunt clenching around nothing. pleas and sighs of his name resounded off your tongue until you sounded like a broken record, both of your hands tangling into his fluffy locks.

“you can, sweet girl,” hongjoong encouraged. he licked your clit. “just wait for me a little more.”

your head shook side to side. tears spilled down your cheeks. you were so desperate, so dumb to anything other than the raging need between your thighs. you were on the verge of exploding. he had worn you down to this whimpering mess, had broken you down into his little whiny girl that depended on him for release. you moaned while he licked and sucked, silently praying he wasn’t going to deprive you yet again.

“you’ve been so good for me, baby. come on, go ahead and cum for me.” hongjoong lifted your thighs and pressed them flat into the mattress, spreading you out perfectly for him. he feasted on you, lapping and sucking on your swollen bundle of nerves until he felt your legs shake in his hold.

with his permission you were catapulted off the edge. finally. your orgasm erupted within your body, flooding every vein and overwhelming every nerve. you shook from the force of it, nerves so heightened from the pent up desire that the sensation was almost too much to bear. just as you started to come down, you felt two fingers slip through your folds. your back arched off the mattress at the overstimulation. “oh, j-joong, fuck!”

hongjoong hummed in delight, removing his mouth from your sex to watch his fingers work in and out of your slippery hole. “didn’t that feel good, baby? you always cum so much harder after i toy with you a little bit first.”

his fingers were quick to find the sweet gummy spot nestled within you. “‘s too much!” he’d worked you up for so long before letting you cum. your nerves were fried; it was all so much.

“after all that whimpering and crying to cum, i’m just giving my sweet girl what she wants.” his voice was sickeningly sweet. his actions were a stark contrast, his fingers reaching in and brushing against your sweet spot repetitively and making your cunt make the most unholy squelching noises. “silly, whiny little girl. just lay back and take what i give you.”

his switch up could’ve given you whiplash. going from taking to giving. this was hongjoong, and fuck it all, you loved the way he worked your body. the way he so expertly controlled your pleasure, like he knew your own body better than you did. his fingers were precise and with your previous high still lingering, you weren’t going to last much longer. “joong! ‘m gonna cum! gonna cum!”

“oh yeah?” hongjoong smirked while he thumbed your clit, offering a few smooth circles before replacing it with his tongue. “cum for me again, baby.”

his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves while his fingers plunged in and out of you was a lethal combination that had you wanting to escape yet hoping he would never stop. you came hard, even harder than before, body shaking as the pleasure wracked your body from head to toe. he milked you so good, continuing what he was doing until you were pushing him off you. “o-oh, my god, joong. please, i can’t!”

hongjoong pulled his fingers out of you finally. he laughed when you sighed in relief before trailing kisses up your tummy. “what? too much for my pretty girl?” you nodded and whimpered and fuck you looked so adorable. how was he not supposed to make a mess of you when you looked like this? he paid attention to your pebbled nipples, sucking on them while his hands gripped the underside of your breasts. you were beyond sensitive, body jerking under his touch. he lifted himself onto his elbows to watch over you, pink hair messy from your hands and chin shiny with your slick. “look how messy you are. so cute.”

you huffed at his teasing tone. he looked a mess, too, though the sight of him in this state was enough to make desire reignite between your legs despite coming twice already. “please, joongie. stop teasing…”

hongjoong kissed your pouty lips, offering you a taste of yourself. “again, you’re so cute when you’re all pouty. i just can’t help but tease you.” he kissed your blushy cheeks before he found your lips again. this time they lingered, kissing you fully and deeply.

you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself. your hands found his hair again and tugged to pull him in, deepening the kiss further. “you’re so annoying, you know that?”

your words lacked any weight. hongjoong rolled his eyes. “yeah, i’m so annoying even though i just made you cum twice.” his hips rolled as his your lips reconnected, grinding his neglected bulge into you. he swallowed up your pretty moan and released one of his own, cock throbbing with need for attention. “gonna make you cum a third time, too. around my cock.” a groan. “wanna feel you make a mess all over it, baby.”

“joong…” you whined. he was so damn hard, and it wasn’t until now that you thought about how much he was depriving himself this whole time. “i’m so sensitive, i —”

“you’re going to take it,” he huffed out while working his cock out from his sweats. once freed, he rubbed his cockhead against your slippery folds, mixing his precum with your juices. his tip was warm, red, and leaky. he pushed himself in, just a little, and it was enough to make him throb. “fucking take all of it.”

just the stretch from his tip alone was maddening. your poor little pussy was so sensitive. you mewled and cried as his cock toyed at your entrance. “oh my — fuck, joong!”

hongjoong slipped himself in inch by inch until he was fully settled in your snug cunt. you were wet and warm and tight; so perfectly his. you were made for his cock. “god,” he groaned. “‘m never gonna get over how fucking perfect your pussy feels. fuck.”

he was allowing you time to adjust, but you were so overstimulated just the fullness of him was enough to have you squirming and writhing. fresh tears welled in your eyes before spilling down your cheeks. too much, too much, too much. “i’m gonna, fuck, i’m, ahh!”

hongjoong chuckled at your stuttering, pride swelling in his chest as he watched the tears fall down your pretty face. his thumb rose to your cheek to swipe a stray tear away. “so pretty when you cry,” he kissed another tear just as it fell, “cry for me.” he pulled his hips back painfully slow before thrusting back in sharply. he repeated this again and again before he found a rhythm.

your eyes squeezed shut and even more tears fell. your hands clutched at his cotton candy pink hair. you needed to hold onto something. if you didn’t, you were certain you would’ve flown away from the force of his thrusts. your jaw was slack and mouth agape, silent moans escaping you uncontrollably.

your cunt was taking him in greedily, slick dripping out of you every time he sunk back in. the lewd squelching sounds filled the air, accompanied by the slaps of his hips colliding with yours. it was a nasty symphony. “your pussy is crying too, baby. crying from how good i’m fucking her.” he nibbled at your jawline, teething at the flesh until you whimpered.

his cockhead brushed against your g-spot and your tear filled eyes rolled backwards. you were positive you looked like a disaster, but you didn’t care. not when he was fucking you so good your toes curled. “shit. you feel so good, joongie. s’good!”

hongjoong watched your face. you were so pretty, all fucked out for him. “yeah? i’m makin my pretty girl feel good?” a hand snaked down your body towards where you were joined together. his thumb pressed to your clit and your reaction was immediate. he groaned at the way your walls squeezed him.

“oh god!” you were shaking. you felt like every nerve was on fire as he thumbed your clit at the same pace of his hips. he was drilling into you with practiced precision, hitting your gummy spot over and over and over.

“c-cum, baby, cum for me,” hongjoong encouraged, voice breathy as he fought back his own release. he didn’t let up, circling your clit with his thumb and fucking your tight cunt until you were screaming. “make a mess on my cock.”

you came with a rush, screams of his name filling the room while white hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses. you did as he said, making a mess of yourself all over him until the sheets were soaked in your release. his name fell from your lips uncontrollably.

“shit.” hongjoong, urged by your own release, fell apart above you, hips coming to a halt as he spilled himself inside you. he filled you up until a mix of his seed and your juices began to leak out of your cunt. he leaned down and kissed you as you both came down from your highs, sweaty bodies pressed together. your breaths mingled as your lips slotted together sloppily. your hands remained in his hair. “fuck, baby, i love you.”

you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.

AUTHOR’S NOTES — idk. like i really don’t. just head full of pink joongie <3

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[its3nvy]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a Billy the kid imagine where he gets really jealous of the reader and another guy and like drags her away or something. The rest is up to you

Possessive Billy the Kid

Summary: In order to get Billy to admit his feelings for you, you attempt to make it jealous.

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), possessive!Billy, porn with no plot, angst, size kink, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink

Note : Gotta be honest not my favorite work of mine, but I hope you guys enjoy!! (Also, don't forget to like, comment & reblog) :D

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 2.5k

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You were aware of Billy's infatuation with you. You weren’t blind to his gaze; you weren’t deaf to his words. It's undeniable that Billy was deeply in love with you, though he stubbornly denied it.

Billy's hesitancy to act on his emotions was largely fueled by the wounds of past relationships. He'd been hurt before, and those scars had left him cautious and wary of opening up again. 

You've caught on to this, and it's what led you to your current predicament—flirting shamelessly with Luke. The idea was simple: You make him jealous to the point where you'll provoke a reaction, prompting him to confront the feelings he's been holding back.

You glance across the room at Billy, displeased with the unfolding scene between you and Luke. The room is dimly lit, adorned with rustic wooden furniture and low-hanging lanterns that cast a warm, intimate glow.

Ever since Luke entered the picture, his overconfident demeanor has irked everyone. Flirting with Luke was a sure way to get under Billy's skin.

“So, what do you say, hon’? Want to continue this conversation in my bedroom?” Luke flashes you what he clearly thinks is a charming smile.

Billy locks eyes with you, a silent exchange of challenges unfolding. Your eyebrow raises in defiance, met with Billy's stoic expression. A smirk plays on your lips, inviting the storm that brews in Billy's furrowed brows. Heightening the tension, you stand on your tiptoes and lean over the bar, your hand finding its place on Luke's bicep. You whisper something unintelligible into his ear, a secret shared in the midst of the growing chaos.

Luke's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and as he turns to look at you, a mix of shock and excitement gleams in his eyes. The room crackles with unspoken emotions as the atmosphere thickens with anticipation.

Billy's neck turns crimson as anger courses through his veins, catching the subtle shift in Luke's expression. It's the final straw, the breaking point that fractures whatever fragile equilibrium remained between Billy and you. A strange blend of dread and anticipation stirs within you as you watch Billy move decisively toward you, his face contorted with fury.

Sensing the impending confrontation, you back away from Luke, pretending to mull over his proposition. As Billy approaches, you let the tension build.

In a whirlwind of emotion, Billy shoves Luke forcefully against the bar, causing glasses to crash to the floor in a symphony of shattered fragments. He keeps him there by seizing him by the collar with a violent urgency, trapping him amidst the debris of the broken glasses.

A cold steel barrel emerges from Billy's hand, pressing menacingly under Luke's chin the ominous click of him charging it resonating in the tense atmosphere.

"You don’t fucking look at her again," Billy's voice is a low growl, each word heavy with an undercurrent of unspoken turmoil. His intense glare pierces through Luke, a fiery testament to the tumultuous emotions churning within him.

In the charged pause that follows, you find your voice, your words cutting through the tense air. "Billy, enough," you plead, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. "Let him go."

For a moment, Billy's grip on Luke tightens, his eyes locking onto yours with a stubborn resolve. Then, with a reluctant exhale, he releases Luke, who stumbles back, visibly shaken.

As he turned your way, you gripped the edge of the bar nervously. He stalked towards you until he stood right in front of you, the sheer size difference making you look up to meet his eyes. The storm in his gaze was evident, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at his lips.

The hand that moments ago wielded a weapon now reaches for your face, holding it with a surprising gentleness—a stark contrast to the aggression in his eyes. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that carries the weight of unresolved emotions and the turmoil that has been building between you. 

Billy’s lips on yours is everything you hoped it would be: euphoric. His lips feel pillowy against yours, albeit slightly chapped. The force of his lips connecting with yours is gentle enough not to hurt you but aggressive enough to tell you he wants you. His teeth gently pulling your bottom lip between his makes you weak in the knees, and you can’t help but gasp.

Your arms quickly snake around his neck, eyes fluttering shut. You let him keep control of the kiss—you’d tortured him enough—and only pull away when you desperately need to breathe.

As your lips disconnect, he rests his forehead against your own.

"I've fucking had it," he said, his tone carrying an undercurrent of frustration. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and you find yourself locked in a silent exchange, a plea for an explanation lingering on your lips.

Billy, fueled by an intensity you hadn't seen before, grasped your arm, his grip forceful and unyielding. You stumbled along in protest, a mix of surprise and curiosity painting your face. 

He doesn't speak, but his eyes tell a story of pent-up emotions, of things unsaid and feelings unexplored. The atmosphere is heavy with the weight of unspoken words as he leads you down the corridor, away from the prying eyes of the gathering crowd.

"Where are we going, Billy?" you finally manage to ask, your voice echoing through the quiet hallway.

He doesn't respond, his jaw clenched, and his gaze fixed ahead. The tension between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

As you reach his room, he pushes the door open, revealing a space that feels both intimate and charged. The room is dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls, and the air is heavy with the scent of anticipation.

"Billy, what are-", His lips crashed to yours, hungry and hot and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. He lifted his hand, gently cradling your jaw as he kissed you. With a subtle tilt of your head, the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in his chest as you melted in his arms, giving into him with a moan of pure want. 

He pressed his body to yours, caging you in his arms and trapping you between him and the wall. In response, you surged forward, reaching up and clasping his face in your hands. Your fingers rasped against his stubble, digging into his skin. A low growl escaped him, intensifying the heat in your belly. He pressed harder into you, his cock forming a firm ridge against your thigh.

He broke the kiss, panting harshly, tipping you head back so he could look deep into her eyes. 

You were barely able to form the words, desire swimming so thickly in your veins you could feel nothing else. “Billy, Please-.”

He groaned, a deep and visceral sound of relief and release. His thumb traced a gentle circle on her cheek in a brief moment of tenderness, but his desire for you was too strong to be placid and mellow right now. 

“Turn around,” was all that left his lips.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised by his sudden statement.

“You listening to me, doll?” There was that damned smirk again. “I need you to turn around for me.”

“Why is that?” God, you loved messing with him.

In a swift motion, he spun you around, your chest colliding with the wall, pinned against it. His grip on your hips tightened, a silent proclamation of his control as the atmosphere crackled with the intensity of unspoken words.

“Enough playing, doll,” he spoke against your ear. “You want me to make you mine?”

His fingers delicately traced along the fabric of your bodice, gently pulling it down to reveal your breasts. A soft exclamation escaped him as he pressed sweet kisses to the nape of your neck, his hands tenderly caressing and exploring the newfound intimacy between you.

“I’m gonna show you how no one else can satisfy you.”

Your head was whirling. Your eyes closed at his words, drinking them in like a shot of expensive liquor. “All you’ll be able to think about is me. You want that?”, he whispered against your ear as his free hand hiked your skirts up, and traveled upwards. You gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.

“Gotta talk to me, doll,” he cooed as a finger danced along your clothed slit, soaking in just how wet you were. “Need to hear how good you feel.”

He watched the way your lips fell open in the sweetest O shape at him pushing your panties to the side and sliding his calloused finger across your clit. You sighed at the break from pleasure as his fingers left your clit. You were breathing heavy, head spinning as he slid his index finger inside of you.

“Billy,” you whined, hand wrapping around his wrist as he pumped his finger agonizingly slowly.

“Hmm?”, he hummed. “Want another? I bet you can take it.” Your chest was rising and falling faster than before as you dug your nails into the skin of his forearm when he slid his finger out and added another.

“That’s it,” he pushed them into you with a delicious curl. “That’s a good girl.”

“Shit,” you hissed as he pumped harder, making sure his palm bumped against your puffy clit. “Fuck, Billy.”

“You’re close already?”, his words filled your thoughts. You nodded dumbly, mouth open and panting. Heat washed over you, pushing you closer to the edge of coming undone for him. Honestly it felt embarrassing how fast he had you melting his just his hands. You were shameless though. Throwing away any dignity just to chase the high he was about to give you. Just as the cord tightened and your body tensed, he withdrew his hand with an adoring smile hidden under his mask.

“Oh you’re so-,“ you struggled to get out. “So fucking cruel.”

The look you gave him over your shoulder was deadly. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing,” he smirked and you knew it from the way his eyes stared down at you. 

‘C’mere, doll,’ he tore the buttons from your skirt, freeing you from any garment you wore that went with them. 

“I’m gonna need you to bend over for me, baby,” he voiced as he began undoing his own pants. You groaned, shuffling your feet backwards and keeping your chest to the wall.

“That’s it,” he kissed you along your jaw and hissed as he began to pump himself slowly. “Good girl.”

You bit at your lip, holding in the moan when he placed the tip of his heavy cock against your slit and began rubbing up and down as he slowly started to press inside of you. Your squirm, his other hand coming to your hip to keep you still. Slowly, he pushes inside. 

“Fuck doll, you’re taking me so well,” he hissed, gripping your ass to spread you open even more. 

“Billy,” you whined, “too much.”

“You can do it,” he pushed further, splitting you open with a delicious ache. “Relax for me.”

“That’s it,” he groaned, moving his hips slowly. “So proud of you,” his praise made your cheeks burn. You both pant as he starts to bottom out, feeling him deep, pressed tightly against your cervix. Pausing for a moment, he gently kissed you, giving you the sweetest reassurance as you adjusted. His actions were tender, creating a gentle moment amid the heated passion.

Billy drew his hips back, brushing against that delicious spot on the way before almost pulling completely out and slamming hard back into you. His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

“Good,” he growled. “So fucking good.”

His thrusts were relentless. Ensuring you felt every inch of his thick cock when he fucked you. You yelped as the tip brushed against your cervix, earning a hiss from him when you tightened around him. Wet slaps filled the air as he pounded you faster, determined to fill every inch of you that he could.

He watched the way your mouth hung open but no noise could even leave this sweet lips of yours, not when he fucked you this good.

“You’re mine,” his other hand reached to the front of you, tugging on your puffy clit. You moaned in response but that wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Go on,” he growled in your ear. “Go on. Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“Billy-“ You felt like you could cry. “Please-“ Every word was cut short by his thrusts deeper into you. You were so close your mind was racing.

“I’m - fuck - I’m yours,” you moaned. “Belong to you.”

He reached for your hands, pulling them behind your back and pinning them against you to use to fuck you harder. He yanked you back on his cock at the same time he thrusted forward too many times to count before the inside of your thighs ran slick. Your vision grew into a blur with each thrust as your brain became fuzzy, your stomach tightened as you grew closer to your climax. 

It only took a second for your wails to turn into sharp gasps, your trembling body going taut as all the tension he'd built inside you snapped. It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a scream as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

"Fuck, I love the sounds you make when you come undone, doll." he mumbled. "So beautiful..." A few more dizzying pumps and you felt him pull out of you with a moan.

“Fuck.” He mumbled to himself, slipping his free arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He praised between pants against your shoulder. “Don’t think I’m ever gonna let you go now.” You smiled, as he peppered you with kisses. 

"I'd be surprised if the entire fucking town didn't hear us", you managed to breathe out. Billy simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[usedpidemo]

Cruel flower (Jo Yuri)

“You sure you really like my dress for today?” 

For the record, this is the fifth time Yuri has asked you this question. Whether or not you disagree, your choice doesn’t matter. She’s going to show off, and for good reason.

You’re not the only one anticipating some antics on stage.

To be fair, they’re not exactly the kind of antics you’d expect, as though one makes a fool of themselves like it was part of a humiliation ritual. Yuri is much more intricate and flirty, as seen with her choice of outfit for today’s performance. It’s tasteful with a hint of sexy, yet easy on the eyes. The kind that leaves your mind questioning as to why she dresses herself like someone she’s not, even if you enjoy staring at her bewitching appearance. 

She makes your heart race in countless ways you never knew could happen.

“I mean—even if I said no, you’ve already made up your mind. So what is the point,” you tell her, covering your mouth, your gaze peering down at the garter and stocking combo completing her floral ensemble. To say they complement her would be an understatement; even by her relatively tame standards, this is a little too bold and showy for her fans.

But the thing is, it’s not her normal audience she’s performing for. Thousands of fans are lined up all over the convention floor, mainly to see their more popular favorites. Not helping matters is that she’s one of the rare handful of soloists, the number which you can count with just your fingers, which typically don’t generate as much interest as an average group. Right from the start, she’s fighting an uphill battle, and this is her one of the limited opportunities to steal everyone’s hearts and attention, especially on a bigger platform.

Yuri turns around from the mirror, having put on the finishing touches of her makeup, facing you with a dour, mocking pout. “You’re no fun.”

Indifferent, you brush her off. Her contemptuous responses are part of the package, something that encompasses your daily routine. The less you entertain her, the better and the wiser you are, especially during these more serious times. You’ve learned that you find yourself less likely to fall in danger when you don’t give Yuri even the smallest of openings.

Unfortunately, it’s a lesson you have to be reminded of more often. 

“But you gotta admit, I look really good, right?” she questions you, as if you haven’t been ogling her from the moment she presented herself to you in just her lingerie, garter and stockings. The dress is just the cherry on top of what you consider near perfection. 

It’s intentional trolling at this point.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, hiding no hint of sarcasm. “Could use a little less”—you suddenly stammer—”You know—”

“Could use a little less what, babe?” Yuri approaches you, seated on the couch, pressing her palms on your knees, smirking, plotting. The thin layer of dress sweeps forward, revealing some cleavage and her necklace. She’s all up in your face, her lips nibbling on the ridge of your ear, her neck flashing a still fresh hickey from earlier in the day, her hot breath sending chills down your spine—her favorite form of showing affection. 

If you had any less restraint, you’d take her on this very couch, rip off her clothes and fuck her on said mattress in every position imaginable. Forget the crowd, much less the fact that you’re in a backstage room, where the walls are paper thin, so much so that even the slightest sounds can be heard from the outside. No matter how you spin it, there’s always clear and present danger waiting for the most inopportune time to strike. This is how Yuri gets you: by putting you both in the most uncomfortable situations possible, career be damned. It isn’t due to a heightened sense of thrill under duress, but it’s just the way she is. Insatiable. 

As easy it would be to fold right then and there, you make it a point to keep her in check, much to her disappointment. In a way, you’re kind of her unofficial co-manager, except you just so happen to share the same bed with her.

“No,” you tell her, holding face, holding her by the wrists, rising from the couch and leading her against the makeup table. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fuck you,” she replies, not hiding her frustration. She matches your stern glare with of her own, but she comes off as more of a spoiled child than an actual threat. There’s more charm to find than seriousness in Yuri’s cutesy features. “You really are no fun at all, asshole.”

Releasing your grip on her hands, you make a concerted effort to fix up her loose dress, then leave a peck on the cheek. All while you admire the little details that complete her look. You can’t help but kiss her softly, inadvertently calming her down. Undoubtedly, she’s pretty, but she’s even more special today. 

“It’s only a what? Thirty minute set? It’ll go by in a breeze,” you tell her, as if she hasn’t been going through the festival circuit just the other month. On her part, it feels way longer since she performed in public, and that’s in no small part to her spending all her spare time with you more than anything or anyone else—to the point of being overly attached. 

Yuri sighs, rolling her eyes, hating the notion of being away from you for more than a few minutes. She makes one last hail mary effort to lead you on by wrapping a leg around yours, but you immediately catch on and put her in place. She’s so visibly miffed, that it’s easy to feel any sort of sympathy for her, but you know this little devil is going to exploit your kindness and bury you in the process. 

“Please,” she pleads in her softest tone, ready to drop to her knees on command. “I don’t even need you to fuck me like a whore, but—please—let me suck your cock instead. Let me take a warm load down my throat and I’ll be good to go.”

Try as hard as she can, the idea passes through one ear and comes out the other. You don’t budge. Not in the slightest. 

“Please, babe—promise I’ll let you use me anyway you want.” Right on cue, Yuri sheds tears, eyes wide and bargaining. “I’ll let you tie me up and tease me with your toys like the bad girl that I am. Just give me this one thing. Please.”

Still, nothing she does changes your mind. You even toy with the fact she’s needy as hell. “Didn’t you just call me an asshole, asshole? Why would I let you suck my cock, let alone shove it anywhere near you or inside you?”

Her facade immediately disappears in place of self-defense. “Oh come on. I call you asshole all the time, asshole. Since you like that word so much, here: asshole, asshole, asshole. I bet it’s because it reminds you of how much you love using my—”

Unamused, you interrupt Yuri by backing her against the table again, imposing your superior stature over the frankly petite idol. She doesn’t look intimidated, and for good reason: you won’t do a damn thing to hurt her. Despite the clear assertion of power, it’s actually the opposite—she recognizes that you’re falling into her hand and gets off on bothering you.

“Go on. What are you gonna do? Spank my ass? I bet you’d love to do that to me now, do you?” Yuri’s chuckling, grinning wickedly through every word, knowing your attempts at punishing her only serve to derive her pleasure instead. Either way, it’s a lose-lose situation. Fold and risk your frisky relationship to the public at your expense, or only delay the inevitable and continue to be tormented at every chance she gets. The trouble never ends.

You end up backing away and leaving her alone in the room. You remember; it’s a miracle. “Just—act normal,” you tell her, sounding defeated as you open the door. 

—————

For the most part, she does. 

Yuri is a natural performer, as usual. She never really needed you to begin with. You found her like this. Any sign of weakness or doubt is virtually unrecognizable.

Being near the front has its benefits. For one, you’re merely a stone’s throw away from Yuri, meaning you don’t have to strain your eyes or constantly turn to the screen. No LED panel can truly display Yuri’s in all their glory. It also means when her earpiece randomly stops functioning, you’re a few inches away when she decides to entertain the fans with typical fanservice: giving high-fives, completing hearts, partaking in pictures, and so on. While everyone around you has their phones and lightsticks raised, you’re just watching along, basking in the moment, watching your girl do the thing she loves the most, besides doing you.

Yuri passes by your section, and immediately recognizes you on sight in the midst of the crowd. She throws a wink and a kiss in your direction—much to everyone else’s delight, but not yours. Apart from that one scene, there isn’t much fanfare or anything fanciful that you haven’t already seen from her. After only five songs, she bids farewell to the audience. 

Minutes later, you reunite with her backstage at her assigned dressing room. 

“Well well,” says Yuri, waiting by her lonesome at the makeup desk as you enter, sounding self-indulgent. “I did it, babe. Wasn’t so hard.”

Of course. Yuri can keep herself in control; she just chooses not to. It’s hardly a surprise to anyone, especially you.

“Were you expecting a cookie?” you comment, making sure her head doesn’t leave orbit. 

“Don’t be such a bitch,” she retorts, pouting her lips, irked at your remark. “Just say I did a good job. Being kind costs nothing.”

“And being an asshole also costs zero,” you retaliate, never letting up on the sarcasm. “Good job.”

“And? You’re missing one more thing.”

You raise an eyebrow, growing slightly crabby. “What? Isn’t a simple good job already enough?”

“C’mon.” Yuri steps forward with all the confidence in the world. The change of attitude in the room is sudden, abrupt. One quick shove sends you stumbling back onto the couch. Before you’re able to react, she straddles herself on your lap, having all of the leverage. “You know I gotta get my reward after every performance, babe.”

No matter where you turn, you end up back at square one: against Yuri. Her hands lead your wandering gaze toward hers. “God, Yuri, no—”

She shushes you, places a finger between your lips, shaking her head in disapproval. “I did my part. It’s only right that you have to return the favor. That’s the rules.”

“What rules?”

Yuri laughs. Shoots you this inviting, alluring look that’s asking—begging—for trouble. A perfect encapsulation of who she is whenever you’re alone together. Her fingers begin to pick through the buttons of your dress shirt, your countenance slowly unraveling as dread and danger clouds your mental functions. No amount of ignorance can save you. You’re trapped. 

There’s your answer.

As if that wasn’t enough, the finger between your lips is now replaced with hers. A kiss. Deep. Tender. Passionate. She’s engrossed in the moment, cupping your face to pull you down with her, forcing you into submission. There’s no escape. Whatever resolve you have left she gradually weakens, until you eventually close your eyes and reciprocate those feelings back at her, too. 

It’s a good thing you locked the door beforehand, as if you knew this was going to happen. 

You’re stuck in this fervent position for what feels like an eternity, when in reality, it’s only been a couple of minutes. Despite the precarious state you’re in, there’s something sincere when it comes to Yuri. Probably because she’s the only person on this planet with a face that could look innocent while clearly committing the act. Still, she’s up to no good, and she has you exactly where she wants you to be.

She pulls away from the kiss, her eyes glazed, her lips melding in the shape of a moan, even though you’re still clothed—for now. 

“Jesus, Yul, we really should—”

A second kiss interrupts your desperate plea. Yuri doesn’t want to hear any part of it. She knows what she wants. No amount of resistance will deny her this opportunity. She finishes unbuttoning the last of your shirt, slipping it off before throwing it aside, caressing your bare shoulders. All this while shaking her head. 

Pulling away from your lips again, she slips one of her dress straps down her shoulder. “I don’t fucking care. I want you now.”

Clambering off your lap, Yuri tugs at the hem of your pants, jutting your hips forward. You can only watch helplessly while she strains her lanky arms, unzipping your trousers, pulling on them again and again until they pool around your ankles and shoes. Her eyes fixate on your groin, gleaming at the welcome sight: a growing bulge beneath your boxers.

“How long have you been hard for me, hm?” She swipes at your erection a handful of times, each touch eliciting an airy groan from your lips. Biting on her lower lip, the sensation arouses her even further. “Did I dress a little too sexy for you today?”

If you could talk at that moment, you would say yes. The entire time you’ve been watching her on stage, your primary focus was her outfit over everything, including her soulful voice. As flattering as the simple but sexy ensemble was on its own, it’s even hotter in motion. It reminds you of when you first met in a similar place. Instead of thousands in attendance, it was only a handful of patrons at a small bar. And out of the dozens she could have ended the night with, it happened to be you. From the moment you laid your eyes on each other and exchanged smiles, you knew there was never going back.

You’re aimlessly pulling at strings, hoping to find a way out, a miracle. Instead, you’re digging your grave even further. The other strap falls down, pulling the rest of her dress along with it. Not of her own volition, with the culprit being your own hand. There’s nothing worth saving at this point, not even yourself. 

What a way to surrender. You haven’t answered her question formally, yet she understands what you were going to say.

Yuri leans forward, her attitude as bold as it's ever been. Despite her pretty smile, the hint of cleavage right in front of you sweeps away your gaze. Every part of her is a sight for sore eyes. She shudders, closes her eyes, slowly grinds herself against your throbbing bulge, finding your place beneath her even more suffocating. You can only sink back on the couch, moan along and let her neediness weigh you down. 

As the garment slips further down down her lithe frame, landing at the waist, you bury your head against Yuri’s neck. Romantic as it may look, it’s anything but. She keens against your ear, her nails scratching at your nape—all while you clamp down on her collarbones. Her whines sound needy, wanton, shameless. Her voice echoes beyond the four corners of this room, removing any pretense to any innocent soul passing by. Conveniently, music from the main stage is loud enough to cover your little act.

Maybe she really had it planned out all along.

While Yuri remains preoccupied by her senses betraying her, you reposition her away from you towards the table. You never let up on the passionate kisses and bite marks till her creamy, pale skin glows a deep shade of red. Then you twiddle with the zipper on her corset, sharply yanking it down, almost snapping the clasp in your haste to undress her. Fortunately, you manage to push the rest of her lingerie down to her waist, enough to where you can feel her bare figure with your hands. 

Asserting your control—something you should have had the entire time—you lay Yuri face down on the sofa, clambering yourself on top of the powerless idol. Manhandling her is as easy as breathing; she folds at the slightest push and prefers to be used as a means of personal release.

Reaching from behind, you rest a hand on her chest. You squeeze; she yelps. The feeling of her nub held between your palm while drawing out little, saccharine noises from her dirty lips scratches that sweet spot in your brain perfectly. It’s an addicting sensation you can’t get enough of. She is unable to fight back, her nails digging deep into the fabric of the couch, desperate to hang on, only to find herself going weak at the knees.

More and more, you find yourself losing control, becoming more ravenous. You quickly shed your boxers,  pushing them down as far as your knees, your struggling cock freed from its restraints. Your noises are turning more primal: less human, more animalistic, as your grip on Yuri tightens. You lay her body flat on the couch, make use of what little space is left, before digging between her legs to strip the panties beneath her skirt.

Part of you wants to slip a finger or two in there and play with her clit. It’s inconsequential, if not a small diversion from what really matters. Until you remember just how far off the beaten path you’ve already gone. If you don’t fuck her right then and there, you just might lose it.

Pressing the head of your cock along her lips, you come to a predictable conclusion: she’s soaking wet. Wet enough to raise some deep concerns. Your breaths tense up as you slowly enter and the walls pulse around you; the gap between you and her couldn’t be any narrower. 

The groan you release as you bury yourself to the hilt is worth a thousand reliefs. Nothing is as satisfying as that first entry into Yuri’s tight, suffocating pussy. Every single time. 

“Oh—fuck—” you blurt, immediately overwhelmed by the rapid surge of heat. In response, she lets out this sharp, echoey moan, stretching her head ever so slightly forward as she endures the stabbing sensation. The feeling doesn’t last long; you pull back, her walls pulsating against your cock, only to plunge right back in.

The little discomfort soon dissipates for pleasure. Yuri’s so intoxicatingly tight, so hot when you fill her with your cock. That’s why despite the uncomfortable scenarios she puts you in, you always fold, because you feel right at home in her cunt. It would be a disservice to take her like some dainty, delicate doll. And you wonder why she’s always so needy.

Spreading her thighs wider, you fuck her, slowly foregoing the comfort of a slow grind in favor of a erratic, torrid pace. Each thrust you deliver is hard, emphatic strokes, as if to prove two points: that you don’t take lightly to her antics, and that you will always overpower her. You shouldn’t be deriving any joy from this, but you’re loving every second using her as she wanted: as an outlet for your frustration. 

As for Yuri, she’s just as pathetic and helpless as always. Reduced to a heaping pile of moans and mewls. Her national position. Her favorite position. You should be wondering just how incredibly manipulative and conniving she is, getting you to act out for a little miscreant like her, when she should have known her place by now. Ultimately, there’s no point; there’s nothing that will get her to change her wicked ways, and every consequence only serves as her motivation to push you even further. 

The sounds filling the room are almost indistinguishable. Whether it’s the supposed thumping on the door or skin against skin, you don’t know. You’re twisting her dark hair around your finger, and her keen and shriek are one and the same. Meanwhile, your other hand can’t decide between her waist and her ass, both sensitive and satisfying to the touch. You’re both too engrossed in each other’s pleasure to care about anything other than the relentless collision of your bodies. At this point, you’re certain it is, in fact, a knock on the outside, but it will eventually disappear. They all do. 

Yuri is shaking, violently trembling, gripping to the couch’s handles, desperate for air. ‘More—harder—fuck me—’ she begs in repetition, every word spilling like a prayer. It’s amazing how she holds up against you. You wonder if her goal is to be seen like this—to be recognized as the fucktoy and brat she is. You can only contain her for so long; it’s only a matter of time before it blows out of proportion. That’s the thrill of the chase—to avoid being found and to escape with an inch of your life.

Your grip around her hair reaches a fever pitch, your teeth gritted and your breath heaving. You want to say you’re close, but that’s basically asking for trouble. Still, you can’t bear it any longer. “So close, Yuri. I’m gonna cum—”

“Fucking do it. Cum all over me. Inside me. Anywhere you want,” is her response, with you pressing her down on the couch out of fear any more filth from her lips will upend you quicker, when in reality, you were already in the process of falling apart. As far as vulgarity goes, it is among her tamest. You’re delaying the inevitable by only a few precious moments.

Then she cums. Unannounced, out of the blue. For all you know, she could have been screaming into the void the way her cries are muffled by the sofa.

Her juices flood your cock, almost making you snap in return. The feeling overwhelms you beyond definition; it takes every last bit of resolve not to break down right then and there. With a sharp draw from her warmth, her slick leaks from her cunt, spills down to the couch. Coating every inch of your shaft, the suffocating heat of her pussy pulls you right back in, and that final thrust sends you over the edge.

All that pent-up want and tension, unglued in an instant. 

Ignore that you let out this hoarse, powerful grunt from the depth of your lungs as you fill Yuri’s cunt with every last drop you have, as if you haven’t been fucking her multiple times a day for the last two weeks. The spillage on her skirt and dress doesn’t matter; as long as she feels every last speck of your cum inside her. You find solace on her shoulders, pushing your throbbing cock deep into her cunt over and over as you blast fleck after fleck that seemingly never ends. 

Eventually, you crash down on the other side of the couch, opposite where Yuri’s face rests. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you get a glimpse of your handiwork: your cum continuously spewing from her sopping cunt, down to the now soiled linen, the damage long-lasting, if not permanent. Had you torn the dress and skirt concealing her inner thighs, the signs wouldn’t have been any more obvious.

It takes a little longer than normal for you to gather your bearings. After all, you were straining your legs in a crowded room an hour before this little escapade. But you’ve been through worse—way worse.

When you finally regain some of your strength, you grab the still exhausted Yuri by the waist and bring her in front of the dressing room mirror. Her bare chest is in clear view, with her dress all crumpled up at the midsection; it’s going to require more than a simple fix. 

“Look what you made me do, you fucking brat,” you hiss, giving Yuri a thunderous slap on her ass. She sees it as not a punishment, but as a reward for pushing you far beyond your comfort zone.

She can barely move a muscle, but is able to respond in spaced out breaths. “Told you it was better than the bedroom.”

You respond with another spank. Then another. A few more. More than you can count. Each hit as thunderous as the clap of her cunt. You know it’s not going to stop her; she knows you can do nothing else.

Her hands cling to the desk, her breaths still heavy, while you slowly rip through the skirt, foregoing any logic. You catch a peek of even more of your handiwork, her ass burning with the same fiery red as the rest of her shapely body. 

Spreading her supple cheeks, you line your cock between her pussy and her legs, resting your head forward beside hers. Grabbing Yuri by the hair, you tilt her face down, moaning against her ear as your bodies entangle together. “Fuck you, Yuri. Sincerely, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck. You.”

With half an eye opened, you catch a glimpse of your reflection, and it’s as messy as you expect. Yuri’s mouth is spread in a deep, wide ‘O’ shape, still riding a prolonged high, while your fingers are all over her. On her breasts. In and out of her hair. The image is arousing enough that you instinctively push your bodies forward. You can feel your cock hardening again.

But right as you get into a rhythm, a knock on the door again snaps you from your shared daze. 

“Well? Bodyguard, you better go and get that,” she says with a slight smirk, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

You throw your head back, groaning in despair. “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, much to her delight and laughter. 

Yuri shimmies from your clasp, picking up pieces of her now ruined dress before walking to the bathroom, while you hike across the room to gather your wear. If there’s one thing about sex with her, it’s how filthy it gets. Clothes scatter everywhere, she’s loud enough to draw attention, and despite everything, it’s hot and messy in all the right ways. You end up fucking her in positions you never thought you’d ever try.

You barely make yourself presentable as you pick up the door, only to be greeted by a blonde beauty on the other side. Her dress immediately stands out; it’s simpler in both design and color (a plain black all over), yet so daring, it makes Yuri seem conservative by comparison. She knows what her best assets are and how she’ll flaunt them for all to see.

What also sticks out is her natural accent. “Hey. Don’t mind if I ask, but is Yuri around?”

With the narrowest of turns, you manage to ascertain her presence, or lack thereof. “You barely missed her, Somi. She just left.”

“Did she tell you where she went?”

“No idea.” 

Somi pouts. It’s a familiar look. “But I just heard her voice here. It was really loud!” 

“You just gotta text her. I seriously don’t know where she went off.”

Her eyes wander down to your ragged appearance, a stark contrast to your blunt tone. The loose belt, the partially unbuttoned shirt, the rolled up sleeves of varying folds. It’s a disaster of epic proportions, and you can barely hold it together. “You sure nothing’s happened in there?” she asks, hiding the littlest of grins. “You look kinda rough.”

“I’ll be fine. Just had to deal with”—you pause, a moment stretched out longer than it should have any right being—“some stuff.”

“Right.” Her eyes peek into the back, even with your best efforts to gently block her view, only to find nothing and no one. She considers her options, before saying, “Surely I can just wait till she comes back? I mean, you’re her bodyguard—”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” You shut her down immediately. “When she returns, I’ll let her know you were looking for her.”

There’s that trick again: a loose strap sliding down her shoulder. Her hand is glued to the doorpost, unwilling to move, expression undeterred. “I’ll just wait here. We still have a final goodbye to do for the fans. Don’t worry. I just really need to talk to her.”

Her friendly smile turns into a mischievous grin.

It’s deja vu.

—————

The goodbye never comes. 

Some poor random idol has to take Somi’s MC job at the eleventh hour because she’s nowhere to be found. Despite security’s best efforts, she couldn’t be seen, and neither is Jo Yuri, for the last sighting of the two is them leaving the venue by themselves, one after the other. Apart from a handful of disappointed fans, their absence can be hardly felt by everyone else. 

Not a soul knows where they went—and they never will find out, nor will they ever care. Only you may have the smallest of clues, for you are buried between two pairs of legs, preoccupied with eating out pussy while your hands squeeze on a couple sets of breasts in the cover of a hotel room.

—————

(A/N: HE HAS RISEN, BABYGIRL! *IRIS INTENSIFIES*)

(For real, what a trip these last two months have been. I'm feeling conflicted about it all. I could easily have published like five to seven fics in that time period, but no! Life gets in the way sometimes, and let's just say it gave me roadworks that stretched on for miles on end. I already told you about the flu/cough arc, and it's all in the past now. Like I said, college has started up for me, and this could be my final academic year before I have to deal with thesis/internship shit before eventually graduating, so I really am on borrowed time. I really should have used my time better when I was healthy, but it is what it is.)

(I really wish this was longer, considering the gap between the last fic. Writing these past two months has been hell, like I had writers' block on steroids, if that even is a thing. I fucking scrapped two fics, including one that was 7000 words in before I made the executive decision to restart the entire work from scratch. I don't know. I'm very perfectionist about the process. Writing is hard, man. Everyone's been killing it lately (including some incredible returns) and I don't know where my place belongs in this. But what matters is that you've been waiting for me and giving me best wishes during some really challenging times. With only four months left to go, let's finish the year on a high. Got nothing else meaningful to say, Yuri's KCON outfit is just really fucking hot. This would feel wrong if I didn't mention Box somewhere, so shoutout's to them XD Thank you for reading!)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Man for Hire

Summary: Eager to lose your virginity, you hire Negan who is a male escort to help you with your problem.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55642924

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is the first thing I've been able to write in a long time because school and work have been taking up most of time. This is really just a filthy one shot. I almost considered making this a short story for a while, but then decided to go with a one shot because...why not? (gif credit: @jdmorganz)

What the fuck were you doing here? That was really the question. The silence was eating away at you. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest and you were nervous. You’d never done something like this before. And you were starting to second guess your decision in making such a bold move.

Looking to the time, you felt the lump in your throat growing and your nerves heightened once you saw how close to the time you were waiting for actually was. This was so outside of your comfort zone. Spending money on something like this just didn’t seem logical in the end. Here you were sitting in the middle of an expensive suite at a very nice hotel in the middle of the city. The sights were beautiful and you were enjoying yourself, but the reason you were here is what had you so nervous.

Truth was? You were meeting someone. Well, kind of. You were paying someone to meet you here. Which was complicated in itself. If people were to find out that you were doing this, it would be hard to explain. At the end of the day, it was something that your best friend had convinced you would be good for you. You were in your early twenties and you were still a virgin. It wasn’t something that you originally felt bad about, but it always made things complicated when you went to date someone. There was always that stigma there of being a virgin. And you were never really comfortable enough to tell someone you were dating that you were one. There was also no one you ever felt comfortable enough with to actually have them take it. Sure, you’d fooled around with a few people, but you never actually followed through with all of it. You were just always so busy working and going to school that you never felt the need for sex. Now that you were older, well, it felt awkward being the only virgin that you knew. It was an embarrassing thing, so the only person who really knew at the time was your best friend. Who convinced you it would be for the best if you hired a professional to help you out with your ‘problem’. That way there was no judgement, it would be done by someone who should know what they were doing and you could hand pick who you wanted it to be. You wouldn’t have to worry about the dating process, you could just have sex and that would be that.

It's just the closer you got to everything, the more pathetic you felt. Your friend had found a couple of sites for you that you looked at together. Then you found one that you felt comfortable with and connected with the woman in charge. The woman was very personable, but straight to business. She sent you a list of men that would be available for you. She had asked you for some details and you were honest with her as to why you were doing this. There was no reason not to be.

After taking some time to look through your choices, you came to a profile that you ended up being immediately enchanted with. Negan. There were a lot of younger, muscular men that they were trying to sell, but you had always been attracted to men older than you. But from the first photo you were immediately drawn to the chiseled jawline of the man sitting on a motorcycle. He was wearing a leather jacket that was opened to reveal a gray Henley that laid underneath. A pair of worn-down leather jeans and black sunglasses. From the confident smile to his salt and pepper colored beard you were hooked instantly. Every photo you saw only drew you further in. In other photos his incredible dimples and gorgeous hazel eyes made you more confident that this would be your choice. Even the tattoos that covered his body made him more attractive to you. This was a man that would have caught your attention immediately if you saw him on the street. To say you were attracted to him would be an understatement.

After looking through the rest of the profiles that you were sent, you returned back to the woman that was in charge with the name that you wanted. At first, she tried to convince you to go with someone else. Even though she admitted Negan was one of their most popular escorts, she tried to give you other suggestions of who she thought would be better for your certain situation. A lot of them were the younger ‘cuter’ boys, but cute wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Once she realized that she wouldn’t be able to convince you otherwise, she agreed and set up this meeting. Negan was more expensive and the prices varied by the amount of time you wanted. Two hours, four hours or the overnight rate. You really thought two hours would be plenty enough, but your friend convinced you to get the whole night. You didn’t know why. You were just going to have sex with this guy and be over with it. Having him there with you afterwards would only make things awkward. You couldn’t change your mind now though. You already paid.

A knock on the door to your hotel room pulled you from your thoughts. It jumpstarted your heart in your chest and you felt incredibly nervous now. Standing up from where you were seated, you adjusted the material of the tight fitting black dress that you were wearing. Making your way over to the door, you nervously outstretched your hand to turn the doorknob and felt the breath leave your lungs when you pulled it open. Leaning against the doorframe stood the man from the profile, his hazel eyes looking over you curiously. A charming smirk tugged at his lips while he gazed over you. What he was wearing actually surprised you. It was a bit different from the photos in his profile, but you didn’t hate it. He was well groomed, his body donned in a very expensive looking black suit that was only buttoned in the middle drawing your eyes to the white button down that was underneath. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone revealing the thick curls of hair over the center of his naked chest.  

You were so distracted taking all of him in, that you missed when he said your name. Speaking louder, the tone of his deep, raspy voice sent chills down your spine. In his right hand, he had a single red rose and outstretched his hand to you when he finally got your eyes to lock with his.

“Can I come in?” he questioned, his nose wrinkling in amusement when he realized you must have been gawking at him. God, you must have looked like a fool just standing there in the doorway staring. Pushing the door open, you allowed him into the suite and accepted the rose when he stepped before you.

“Thank you. This is very sweet,” you commented on the gesture knowing that you were expecting a much different scenario than this one. Closing the door behind you, you noticed that he was standing rather close to you and it made a breath catch in your throat. Fuck. That’s when you noticed the smell of his cologne. It smelled amazing and only made him even more attractive. How was that even possible? Stepping forward, his hazel eyes stared down at you and it made you feel incredibly hot with how close he was.

Lowering down, the warmth of his breath lingered over your lips before he pressed a kiss over the side of your face. It drew your eyes to close, your lips parting when the kiss lingered and when they opened again, you could see him pulling back with a big smile over his face. The dimples were even sexier in person. Suddenly, you weren’t regretting your decision so much.

“You look gorgeous,” he started off, immediately complimenting you nodding toward the dress that you were wearing. “That dress looks really nice on you.”

“And look at you,” you waved your hand about pointing toward what he was wearing. “You look really sharp. I wasn’t expecting this whole getup with you showing up today.”

“Oh? This old thing,” Negan smirked, unhooking the button of the suit jacket before pushing his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s just say the woman in charge thought it would be a nice touch considering everything.”

“Oh, so you know?” you paused realizing that of course he knew that you were a virgin. He would have to know since that’s why you were doing this whole thing to begin with. “You probably think I’m a loser.”

“Why would I think that?” his eyebrows furrowed, a muscle in his jaw flexing when he tipped his head to the side. “Every person’s situation is different. Who the fuck am I to judge? That’s not my job to judge.”

“And what is your job exactly?” you spoke quietly and he snickered. God that was stupid. “I mean, I know you’re an escort. I just, should I call you Negan? I don’t even know if that is your real name. It’s probably not, right?”

“No, that’s my real name,” he admitted with a bob of his head, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in a confident sweep. “I probably should use a fake name considering the job, but I like being authentically me. And to answer your question, my job is different for everyone. It’s my job to find out what someone needs so I can give it to them.”  

“Smooth,” you outstretched your hand to his which he accepted and followed you over to the couch. First, he helped you sit before taking a seat next to you. A chill flooded through your veins. You understood why Negan was one of their most popular escorts. He was in here a few minutes and you were already ready to jump him. Setting the rose down on the coffee table before you, you turned toward him and felt bold in the moment. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here Negan. I’ve never done something like this before. Obviously.”

“What do you want to do? You have me for the whole night,” he reminded you, outstretching his hand to push a piece of hair out of your face. Sweeping his thumb in over your jawline had you leaning into the warmth of him with your eyes fluttering to a close. “Did you want to go out for a night out on the town? Do you just want to hang out? Or…we can just jump right into things.”

“You mean sex?” you blurt out probably too fast which had him smirking and bobbing his head.

“That is what I mean, yes,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled with him sliding in closer to you. His arm hooked around the back of you with the warmth of his breath hovering over your bare shoulder. Suddenly the smell of his cologne filtered through your lungs. Desire overtook you and you had to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. A minty scent also fell from his lips from a gum that he undoubtedly had been chewing on before he had showed up. “It’s all up to you what you want. What your fantasy is.”

As he spoke, Negan’s head lowered closer to the crook of your neck. Nuzzling his nose in against your flesh had you sucking in a sharp breath of air which was followed by him depositing a faint kiss over your neck.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but do you think we can talk first?” you wondered standing up from the couch which seemed to surprise Negan a bit, but he nodded as you headed over toward the bottles of alcohol that were in the corner of the room. You should have just jumped him right then and there, but your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you want some bourbon?”

“I’m more of a gin guy,” he responded, standing up from the couch when you looked through the bottles and pulled something out that you thought he would like. “Is everything okay?”

“You want me to be honest?” you spoke faintly while you poured both him and you a drink hoping that it would help settle your nerves. With a nod of his head, Negan smirked and stood by the window to look down at the city beneath you. The bright colors were reflecting on the walls and he seemed to be in awe of the lights. Stepping in beside him, you held out the drink you got for him which he accepted, with his fingers brushing up against yours. “I’m starting to regret doing this.”

“Am I not what you expected?” suddenly he seemed almost offended, clutching the glass tightly in his hands when he turned to look at you. “I told Michonne that I should have just warn what I usually do because…”

“No, you’re perfect,” you immediately interrupted him, placing your hand over the center of his chest to get him to focus on you. “God, you are fucking gorgeous. And that’s the thing. You are this beautiful man and I’m a virgin that you are going to have sex with. I’m probably going to be awful and…”

“Oh,” an amused chuckle fell from Negan’s lips when he took a sip of the drink, his free hand placing in over yours to give it a firm squeeze. Swallowing down the sip, he looked to you and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Please don’t. It’s not something to worry about. People who have sex all the time sometimes aren’t even that good. Plus, my job is to make everything perfect for you. Whether we have sex or not. Don’t let the expectations of sex distract you and make you nervous. I’m a very chill fucking guy. You’ll walk away with a good experience by the morning, I promise you that.”

“Cocky,” you smirked, throwing back your drink in hopes it would give you some liquid courage. “I like it.”

“I just know I’m good at my job,” Negan assured you with a wink, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down, taking yours as well. Urging you back to the couch, he sat you down and took your hands in his when he lowered beside you. “I get the feeling you’d like us to get more comfortable with one another, so we will just talk for a while if that’s what you want. Or we can go out.”

“We can talk,” you were impressed with the way he was attempting to calm you down with the rough pad of his thumbs sweeping over the back of your hands. “Michonne tells me that you are one of her top escorts.”

“I told you, I’m good at my job,” Negan winked, his dimples becoming more prominent when he smiled and it took your breath away.

“So you must be really good at sex?” you suggested and it made him smirk again. You probably sounded really stupid right now, but you were curious.

“That and I’m the best at making people feel good. Not everyone that wants to have an escort wants sex. They want to feel special. They want to feel like the center of the universe and I’m good at that. I excel at reading people,” he explained, curling his finger underneath your chin to get you to tip your head back to look at him. With his eyes hooked on yours, you felt exactly the way that he described. Like the center of the world. “Some people are just looking for companionship. And I’m able to give that to them.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled with how close he was to you. Personal space wasn’t something that existed with Negan, but he was right. He was good at his job. “You know, Michonne tried to persuade me to get someone else instead of you. I’m curious as to why.”

“Well, she’s not exactly my biggest fan. Her husband and I have never really been able to get along,” he expressed with a wicked smirk, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. “When people look at me, they assume that I wouldn’t be a good choice to take someone’s virginity.”

“She wanted me to pick someone like Siddiq,” you explained and Negan scoffed at your response. It felt like he was getting closer to you if that was even possible. “Thing is, I don’t want boyishly cute men.”

“Of course you don’t and you made a good choice,” Negan hushed you, his eyes now focused on your lips which had you frozen in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb drew across your bottom lip and it had you leaning in closer to him. “You want a man to take care of you. Because older men know what’s best. They do it better. And I’ll take really good care of you.”

After the final word left his lips, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours drawing your eyelashes to flutter to a close. Claiming your lips in a faint kiss had you leaning in closer to him. Your body’s reaction to him was almost instinctive when you started kissing him back. The sensation of his fingertips sliding in over the small of your back was felt urging you in closer to him. Every caress of his lips ignited the fire inside of you more for him with the rough sensation of his short beard at your flesh.

Pulling away, Negan’s eyes were closed and he was smirking when his long eyelashes fluttered to an open, “You’re a special one. I can tell.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the people you see,” you commented with a half-smile, finding yourself wanting him to kiss you again with the way he was touching your face.

“We could work on your confidence though,” Negan hushed you, bringing you to him again so he could nip at your bottom lip. Giving it a gentle tug, he flicked the tip of his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip making you purr. “You are a beautiful, charming, young woman. You could have given your virginity to anyone, and you picked me.”

Instead of responding, you leaned in to desperately bring your lips together again with Negan humming. When his lips parted, you brushed your tongue against his which had him sucking faintly at your tongue when you pulled back. The more you kissed, the more intense it seemed to get with his large palm sliding up over your side.

Hooking your fingers into his dark hair, you tugged firmly at it which had him growling out against your lips. With his tongue flicking out over yours, you found a sense of confidence in stroking your fingers over the center of his chest to tease at the thick curls of hair that covered it. Lifting your hands, you started to open the buttons in Negan’s shirt, eager to see more of him and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Instead, his lips just trailed off over your jawline, over the side of your neck and to your shoulder to push at the strap of your dress to get it down over your arm to kiss at the flesh that was there.

Tipping your head back, your eyes connected with his when you got the last button undone and pushed apart the material of his shirt. Palming up and over the center of his abdomen toward his chest, you were in awe of his slender form. His lips were parted, his breathing heavy while you learned the lines of his body. Tracing your fingertips over the detailed tattoo over his pectoral muscle, you didn’t know how you were going to get away with this whole thing considering you were already addicted to this man and you barely knew him. Pushing into his chest, you got him to slide back so you could crawl in over his lap. Looking up at you, you agreed that he was good at his job because he had the look of absolute want in his eyes with you over him.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Negan slurred, lifting up to hungrily kiss at the side of your neck, reaching for the other strap of your dress to tug at it. With a grunt, Negan tugged at the material getting it pulled down your body to about your navel which revealed your breasts to him with a bounce. It had him tipping back to look you over with his adoration in his eyes. A wicked smirk tugged at his handsome features when he tipped his head down to start peppering kisses in over your collar bone. Hooking your fingers into his hair, you tipped your head back with his wet kisses covering the swell of your breast. Surrounding your nipple with the warmth of his mouth had your head tipping back with a moan. Sounds of his wet kisses surrounded you, his hands squeezing firmly at your hips. There was no questioning that Negan was very dominant in the way that Negan touched and kissed you, but you liked it.

With a swirl of his tongue over your nipple, he nipped at the sensitive flesh before trailing his kisses over to your other breast where he pampered it just the same. Yanking firmly on his hair, you had him staring up at you with his dilated pupils which took your breath away. Stealing a forceful kiss from his lips had him moaning. You two were just jumping right in, but it felt right in the way that it was happening. Negan’s fingers had dropped to squeeze at the back of your thighs to caress the flesh that was there. Sliding further up, he cupped your bottom under the material of your dress and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You don’t kiss like a virgin,” Negan growled, smacking firmly over your bottom eliciting a gasp followed by a moan from you. Staring over your body, his eyes focused in over your breasts and he sucked at his bottom lip.

“How do virgins kiss?” you wondered, dragging your fingers across his wet bottom lip. A snicker fell from his lips before he took one of your fingertips into his mouth. Nibbling faintly at the tip, he followed by flicking his tongue out against it making you purr.

“For the most part? They are shy? Timid,” he slurred, lifting up enough to hover his lips just in over yours. “Inside of you is a dirty girl just waiting to break free from the restraints you put on her.”

“Maybe you can help her break free,” you whispered, caressing over his chiseled jawline and it had him leaning in closer to you. A growl fell from deep within him when you teased the tip of your tongue over his lips and he reached to pull you in closer to him so he could claim your lips again in a hungry kiss. The taste of him was addictive. The more you had of him, the more you wanted him. Your blood was pumping through your veins with your heartbeat hammering inside of your chest. A flush went to your face and a warmth was flooding to your core.

Confidence overtook you and gradually you ground yourself down over Negan. Dropping his head back against the couch, his hands slid down over your hips while you took your time rubbing up against him enjoying the friction that it caused between the two of you. Beneath the material of his pants, the firmness of his masculinity was growing harder and you could feel it pressed against your bottom. It felt good and by the sounds he was making, he approved.

“Good girl. I think we’re breaking down the walls pretty fucking quickly here,” Negan insisted, the vibration of his words against your flesh causing you to moan. Dragging your palms down over the center of his chest toward his lower abdomen had a sharp exhale falling from his throat. His eyes were still locked on yours when you dragged your fingers across the belt in his pants. Lifting his hips, Negan attempted to help you when you started to pull the belt out of the loops. Tugging at the material had a rumble of an amused sound escaping him. Dragging his thumb across your bottom lip sent chills throughout your veins. “Y’know what you want now darlin’, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a smirk when you started working open the material of his pants. How this man looked at you took your breath away. Curling your fingers at the waistband of his pants, he lifted his hips up to help you get the material down his slender body. A surprised breath fell from your parted lips with the way his erection smacked up against his lower abdomen. Licking your lips, you stare lifted to his eyes. Arrogance flooded his features when a crack of a smile tugged at his lips. “And suddenly I see why Michonne suggested someone else for my first time.”

“Does that mean you don’t think you can take it?” he inquired, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity with you reaching down to trace your fingertips over the underside of the shaft. Just the mere touch had his cock twitching and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a big challenge,” you responded and with a bob of his head, Negan seemed proud of you. Teasing your fingertips from just under the head of his cock down toward the base had him licking his lips in a seductive sweep.

“Thatta girl,” Negan snickered with your fingers curling around his shaft, drawing his hips to bounce up toward your grasp. Sliding in further over his lap, you took your time caressing over his body appreciating the way his eyelids grew heavy with lust. Your thumb swept over the ridge of the tip of his cock and he growled out. “I promise you, you’re gonna love what he’s gonna do for you.”

“I’m not scared of him,” you assured him with a wink enjoying the amused sound that escape his lips before his deep, raspy moan followed. Kissing down over his jawline, you took your time pampering his body knowing that while this was technically meant to be about you, you wanted to cherish the perfect specimen of the man beneath you. Nipping faintly at the side of his neck had him hissing out while you pushed his shirt further apart to reveal his chest to you. Adjusting your positioning over him, you started to kiss down over his collarbone and over the center of his chest. Lifting your palms, you stroked your fingers through the dark curls of hair over his chest and swallowed down hard. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth, humming out again when you leaned forward to kiss over the center of his chest. Your kisses tampered off over his nipple appreciating the moan you got when you circled your tongue around the flesh. Whimpering out, it was almost hard to focus when Negan’s palm flattened out between your thighs to caress over the warmth of your body. It had your hips arching in closer to him when you sucked faintly at Negan’s skin. “You are so fucking wet already.”

It surprised him when you pulled away from him and moved so that you were sitting beside him. Lowering your upper half, you pressed tiny kisses over his abdomen and toward the v line over his hips leaving his flesh with hot wet kisses. Purring out, you felt Negan’s fingers caressing over your shoulders and toward your neck with your kisses lowering down. Sinking his fingers into your hair had you mewling out. You liked how it felt like he was being possessive with you. Delicately wrapping your fingers around the thick base of Negan’s cock, you stroked over it a few times before pressing a faint kiss at the tip. It had him growling out and you loved the sound it drew from him. Dragging your tongue across the tip made you purr out when his fingers grasped tighter to your hair.

Flattening your tongue out over the tip collected the taste of him on your tongue. Focusing heavily on the teasing aspect of it all, you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over his lengthy erection causing his breathing to grow louder. By the time you finally took him between your parted lips, it drew the most intoxicating moan from him. With his girthy length, you were doing your best to pleasure him to the best of your ability, working to jerk him off at the same time while bobbing your head over his length. The strength of Negan’s hand at the back of your head also helped set a steady pace that you were comfortable with.

Once you seemed to have a handle on things, you felt Negan’s palm sliding down over your shoulders, over your back before extending out over your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. Another smack over your flesh had you moaning around his cock. It had him twitching beneath you. The wet sounded of your mouth filled the quiet hotel room. Pulling away with a wet sound, you stroked your hand over his body when you lifted your stare to see that he was watching you with awe.

“Lay back,” Negan instructed, getting up from the couch with his hard cock bobbing with the movement. Carefully pulling off his jacket, he set it on the back of the couch and eagerly slid out of his button-down shirt. Tossing it with the jacket, Negan took his time to shimmy out of his pants after managing to pull his boots off. Snapping his fingers, you obeyed his order when you carefully lowered yourself back against the couch. Your heart was hammering in your chest when Negan grabbed a tight hold of the material of your dress to get it down your body leaving you laying stretched out on the couch in just your black panties. Getting to his knees, he hooked his fingers loosely into your panties, urging you to lift your hips with the tug of them. “How did you know black was my favorite color?”

“Lucky I guess,” you whispered, a tingling sensation at your skin with the way that he was looking over you as he unhurriedly pulled the material from your body. Tossing the material aside, Negan brought your leg up depositing a gentle kiss over the inside of your ankle with his eyes locked on you. Gradually, his kisses raised further up your leg having you a breathless mess when he got to your knee.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let me know,” he slurred, nipping faintly at your flesh before lowering down onto the couch getting himself comfortable between your thighs. Curling his arms around your thighs and under your hips, Negan pulled you in closer to him getting a gasp from you and it made him smile. “You have a very pretty pussy. It’s a shame you haven’t been letting someone pamper it like it deserves.”

Reaching up, the roughness of the pad of his thumbs traced a line over your sensitive folds and it had you dropping your head back, biting down on your bottom lip with a mewl. Down his fingers went over the lips, toward your entrance before circling back to go up and sweeping over your clitoris. It had you panting, his eyes watching you closely to see how you responded to things.

“Good girl,” Negan hummed, lifting his fingers up to suck faintly at the tips. “Daddy is gonna take real good care of you.”

Hearing him refer to himself as daddy sent a jolt straight to your core and you purred out, your hips arching up toward him with him releasing a sound of approval. Doing the same dance over your sensitive flesh, Negan started to pepper kisses over the inside of your thigh. Your breath was hitching in your throat and you wanted to tip your head back, but you couldn’t. You wanted to watch the beautiful man between your thighs that was there solely aiming to do nothing but please you.

Each kiss grew closer until the wet sounds of him kissing over your heated flesh was heard. Licking your lips, something that resembled a whine fell from them and he smiled against your flesh. Dragging out his tongue, he flattened it over the length of your folds dragging it from your entrance which had you tremoring upon contact up to your clitoris where his tongue circled before back again.

It was about learning your body and Negan was doing just that. Paying close attention to everything that made you react. With his lips surrounding your clitoris you found the cries that fell from you involuntary. Each sound you made seemed to fuel him only enhancing the sensation of what he was doing. And by the sounds he was making against your flesh? He seemed to be enjoying himself just as much, finding pleasure in the sounds he could draw from you.

Grunting out, he pushed into your thighs to lift your hips in closer to him. Dropping your fingers down, you hooked them into his dark hair when you felt his tongue circling your entrance before dipping inside of you with a strong sweep. Cooing out, you tugged firmly at his hair having him groan against your most sacred parts. A wet sound filled the air when Negan pulled back away from your body, licking at his wet lips.

Adjusting his body, he hooked his arm around one of your thighs while his free hand lifted to drag his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sliding them down, Negan lifted his head when his middle finger circled over your entrance. Tipping your head back against the couch, you whimpered when he took his time pressing his long slender digit inside of you. A raspy moan fell from his throat when he felt the warmth of your body surround his finger and it made him smile.

“You okay?” he confirmed pressing a wet kiss at the inside of your thigh, leaving a tiny nip at your flesh when he pulled back. Nodding, you didn’t have much that you could say because you were so focused on the sensation. When he had the okay that you were comfortable enough, he started to drag his finger back before pressing forward into your body again. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you whimpered as Negan’s lips surrounded your clitoris sucking at the sensitive nub. Every part of you felt hot. He was taking his time with you, not trying to rush things and he was doing a hell of a job with it. Your body was already trembling and he knew what he was doing to you when he inserted another finger into you. One thing about Negan’s fingers? They were big and he knew just where to caress inside of you to have your writhing beneath him, your hips arching up toward the talented caress of his lips and tongue over your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasped, lifting your head to watch him while he pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting a certain spot that had your toes curling, your fingers clinging tighter to his hair and your cries growing louder. Loud, wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and an occasional moan from Negan would vibrate against your flesh. Your thighs tensed up, starting to twitch when you tried to hold back, but with what he was doing at feasting on your body had you moaning out his name. A pleased groan pressed against your flesh when the thrusting of his fingers grew stronger when he clearly got you to an orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, a rush flooding to your head leaving you absolutely breathless. “Oh my God.”

“And that’s just the start,” Negan snickered after pulling his mouth away from your body. When his fingers left you, a whimper followed. Seeing him using those same fingers to drag them across his bottom lip had your heart hammering harder inside of your chest. Sucking at his fingers, Negan groaned at the taste of you over them before reaching for you. Managing to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder had you gasping and clinging tightly to him. A firm smack was placed to your bottom and it made you moan. “Daddy’s got you darlin’. Don’t worry.”

Once Negan made it to the bedroom, he was careful in the way that he lowered you at the center of the bed. That’s when the room started to spin around you. Suddenly this was becoming all too real what was about to happen. Your eyes fell to Negan’s swollen cock and you felt your mouth go dry looking at it.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan held his finger up, going into the sitting area to grab something before returning with a condom and some lube. Getting onto his knees at the bottom of the bed had a breath catching in your throat when you pressed up onto your hands. Outstretching your hand, you palmed in over the center of his stomach, dragging your fingers down over his navel to tease through the dark curls of hair that were there that led to the base of his thick cock. Stroking his fingers over your shoulder, Negan hummed when you started kissing at the area right below his bellybutton. Grasping his shaft firmly, you took the tip back between your lips with your eyes staring up at him hoping to see his reaction while you pleasured him. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was slightly bulging when he dropped his head back and moaned out. “Fuck.”

Allowing you to give him a blowjob for a few moments led to him curling his fingers into your hair to pull you back. A wet popping sound followed when your lips pulled from his cock and he stroked the saliva over his body.

Reaching for the condom, Negan urged you to wait. Still caressing over his hip, you wanted to make sure to still touch him when he went to open the condom.

“Do you use a condom with everyone?” you questioned noticing the smile that tugged at Negan’s lips when his thick eyebrows bounced up.

“Kind of the rules, so yeah,” Negan answered you, licking at his lips when you wrapped your fingers around his cock to stroke over it firmly. “Why? Do you want me to do it without a condom?”

“You’d do that?” you were almost intrigued when he smirked, his hips bouncing up toward your grasp.

“Well, you’re a virgin. I know I’m clean because I have to make sure of it,” Negan bobbed his head back and forth, sucking at his bottom lip when you dragged your tongue out over the length of his cock again. It had him moaning out, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close again. Truthfully? You didn’t care what he did. You just wanted him and you wanted him bad. “I can make an exception for you if you can keep a secret.”

“Keep a secret?” you mused, kissing at the underside of his cock having him humming out when his eyes came to a close. “Will your boss really get that upset with you for having unprotected sex with someone? You’d be willing to get in trouble for me?”

“Would Michonne get pissed at me? Probably. But you’re worth the risk,” Negan’s fingers curled around your throat, leading you back against the bed. A sharp exhale fell from your throat when he set the condom beside you on the bed and reached for the lube that he brought. Releasing your throat, he opened the bottle and poured a significant amount into his hand before stroking it over his cock slicking his girthy length with it.

“Is there much of a difference?” you whimpered when Negan very slowly crawled in over you, covering you with the weight of his body. The warmth of it radiating against your flesh.

“It’s more intimate,” Negan started peppering kisses over your lips, nipping at your bottom lip. “Some men like wearing condoms because it prolongs their orgasm, but I last long regardless.”

Lifting your head, you looked between the two of you to see that his cock was resting against your lower abdomen and it made you lick your lips. A sense of panic filled your veins in that moment, but Negan reached for your jaw to get you to rest your head back.

“Are you on the pill?” Negan confirmed and you nodded your head, feeling a rush of excitement with the smirk he gave you. Balancing himself on his left arm, Negan reached down between the two of you and you felt him dragging the swollen mushroom tip between your lips causing you to whimper. “It’s okay. Don’t get worried now. You’ve been such a good girl so far. Daddy is gonna take good care of you.”

Smacking sounds filled the air with Negan tapping his heavy cock against your sensitive clit getting you to arch up toward him. Hovering his lips in over yours, Negan adjusted himself before lining himself up with your entrance. Lowering over you, he reached for your wrists to pin them beside you on the bed. Squeezing firmly at them at first, Negan had you shaking beneath him when he slid his fingers to tangle his with yours. Pushing forward had the swollen tip entering you pushing past the ring of muscle that was there. It had Negan’s lips part, his jaw lowering and his eyelids growing heavy. Your cry followed with Negan dipping down just enough to press a faint kiss over your lips.

“Fuck,” Negan nipped at your lips when he pushed his hips forward just a bit more leaving you with a completely foreign sensation. It hurt at first, but you assumed that was normal since Negan from what you knew was bigger than most men were. “Look at me.”

Your eyes connected with his when he filled you with just the first few inches. His fingers squeezed tightly to yours, your whimper falling from your lips. Allowing you to get used to just that, Negan started to pamper you with kisses, pulling his hips back slightly allowing the tip to pull from you before pushing it back in. It was a unique feeling, but with every motion, you found your hips raising to meet his movements.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Negan growled, the warmth of his breath hovering over your lips, but you didn’t want it to stop. No, you wanted more of this. Lifting your hips up higher toward him, you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted him to give you more and it made him smile. Rolling his hips, Negan filled you completely leaving you to let out a moan. God, you felt so fucking full with him inside of you. And you liked it. It was uncomfortable, but you felt like in that moment you belonged to him and every part of you was his. “Fuck, you are so goddamn tight.”

“Your cock is so big,” you whined against his lips, lifting your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss that he was eager to reward you with. You wanted him to move, but you knew that he was giving you time to get used to him. To feel him and be close to him. A loud, throaty moan escaped his lips with his eyes squeezing shut and you purred out. “Please…”

“Move your body with mine,” Negan instructed, his hips rolling back before pushing forward again. Doing what he said, your hips eagerly met every one of his thrusts and you winced when each movement started to get harder. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head. You knew the pain would subside because with each movement the pleasure started to grow. The friction from his groin rubbing up against your clit felt incredible and you rocked into every movement he made. Plunge after addictive deep plunge had you moaning out, whimpering out his name and enjoying that he was just as much verbal as you. Burying his nose against the side of your neck, Negan kissed over your flesh and the smacking of your skin together felt incredible. “Do you like that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck me,” Negan pulled back with a wicked smirk, his left hand pulling from your hand to slide up over the side of your neck to grab a firm hold of your jaw. “I think you just might be my favorite.”

“As long as I’m yours,” you exclaimed, dropping your head back with the incredible sensation that Negan thrusting inside of you was giving you. Once he found a certain spot, his thrusts were planned and meticulous.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Negan hissed, dropping his head to watch his cock already coated in your slick while he thrust into you time and time again. The tip of his cock was rubbing up against your g-spot in varying different speeds and it hand your toes digging into the back of his thigh muscles. Your cries turned to breathless pants, with you trying to lift your head to watch what he was doing, but he shook his head. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you answered with a whine knowing that at this point it was true. Whatever Negan was doing, he was doing it right leaving you with a tingling sensation flooding your body. Desperately reaching up, with your free hand you brought Negan to you to kiss him with his tongue brushing up against yours and his fingers squeezing tighter where he was still holding your hand. By the sounds you were making, Negan must have picked up on the fact you were about to come because his thrusts grew more determined. With a wail, you pulled your hips up and away from Negan, which was followed by a proud, amused sound. Your eyes slammed shut, your hips shaking with Negan’s free hand dropping to caress over your sensitive bundle of nerves, enhancing your orgasm with his caress. “Fuck! Fuck…”

“Look at you,” Negan snickered nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck with your coos of pleasure surrounding him. “Your first time and you’re already soaking daddy’s cock. Kissing up over the side of your neck, Negan let you take a moment to gather yourself before hovering over you again. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Hold on tight.”

Nodding, you did as he instructed and gasped when he pulled you up and got into a kneeling position on the bed. Getting you to straddle his hips, Negan reached between the two of you and helped you lower down over his cock while you braced your feet on the bed with Negan’s hands bracing against your ass. Dropping your head back, you cried out at the way he filled you.

“You like the way that feels?” Negan slurred against your lips, starting to use his strength to help you bounce yourself over his cock. Your right arm stayed hooked around his shoulders to keep you up, while you balanced yourself back on the bed with your other hand to help your movements. “Fuck, your tight virgin pussy feels so fucking good around my big cock.”

“Yes,” you gasped out, following the way that Negan was instructing you to move your hips over his cock allowing you to take all of him again and again.  You probably sounded like a broken record with how many times you were saying it, but it felt so good at this point. Bracing your left hand now instead on Negan’s thigh, you angled your hips hoping to get as much of him as you could. The wet sounds along with the two of you breathing heavily together filled the hotel room. “Your cock feels so good inside of me. Oh my god.”

Every roll of your hips over his length grew harder with his moans matching yours, “That’s my girl. You’re doing so fucking good.”

Whimpering out his name as he kissed down over the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but cry out with his right hand squeezing over your bottom to bring you over him while his left hand caressed up and over the small of your back. Pressing his forehead to yours, Negan made sure to keep the both of you close. Once your moans started to become closer together, Negan worked harder to bounce you over his cock.

“Are you gonna come?” he whispered and you nodded quickly, dropping your head back in ecstasy with the way he continued to fill you. Pulling your hips up and away once you hit your next orgasm led you to a euphoric sensation flooding your body. “Fuck, you’re just loving this aren’t you?”

“So much,” you whined when Negan seemed to easily grasp a hold of your hips to flip you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips up just enough, Negan lowered down behind you with his tongue lapping at your body. His rough grasp palmed at your bottom having you crying out at the sensation. Not only was Negan doing what you paid for, he was going above and beyond to bring you to as many orgasms as he could. Curling your fingers around the comforter, you dropped your head and enjoyed the slurping sounds that came from Negan.

“Lower down baby,” Negan bit at your bottom making you purr as you felt his hands helping you to lay flat against the bed. Crawling in over you, Negan hooked his arm around your waist to pull your hips up slightly before leading his body back into yours with a wet sound. It had you both moaning out in unison with him nipping at your jawline when his steady thrusts started back up again. “I’m so happy you saved this tight little pussy for me. It’s like you were made for me.”

“All for you,” you hummed, happily accepting his fingers hooking with yours with the sounds of his hips smacking up against your bottom filling the air. “It belongs to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s free hand curled around your jawline to put a firm pressure on it having you wincing out in pleasure. “Who does this tight little pussy belong to?”

“You,” you whined with his thrusts growing stronger from behind you. “It belongs to you.”

“My name,” Negan demanded, his lips claiming yours having you crying out against his lips.

“Negan. It belongs to Negan,” you gave him what he wanted to hear, nipping at his bottom lip when he released an amused rumble of a sound. “I’m all yours.”

Snickering against the side of your neck, Negan chuckled before quickening the pace of his cock thrusting inside of you. You couldn’t believe how quickly you became addicted to the sensation of him stretching you and filling you completely.

Your moans countered each other’s with the sound of the headboard smacking against the wall. You wondered if anyone would complain considering you knew that the two of you were not being quiet. At all. Cooing out, your hips tried to pull up and away from Negan’s feeling that same build up he had done before inside of you so many times, but his hips followed your movements doing his best to keep moving inside of you until you pulled away with a whine.

“Christ,” your body shook and Negan moaned against the side of your neck. Just his body weight over you felt good and you didn’t know how you weren’t going to want this constantly now that you’ve had it. “Negan.”

“Come here,” he instructed, nudging your hip and getting you onto your back again. Getting comfortable, Negan braced his weight and got you to hook your legs around his waist. Your bodies were pressed together with his fingers sweeping over your jawline and his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Gasping out as he entered you again, your fingers slid up the lengths of his back before sinking into his hair. Smiling had his dimples even more prominent than before when he took his time rolling his hips back before forward again. This time it was about closeness and the connection between the two of you. Gradually with each thrust, the strength grew harder and quicker. Desperate to have him near, you pulled his lips to yours demanding the attention you wanted. Winces started falling from Negan’s throat with his moans growing louder.

“I’m going to come,” he grunted against your lips, his thick eyebrows furrowing with his lips parting and his moans becoming even raspier. Arching your hips up toward his thrusts, you lifted your head just enough to meet his dominant and forceful kiss. Each thrust became rough, with your winces against his lips drawing him to growl out. Biting at your bottom lip, Negan’s moans grew closer together when you felt the throbbing of him inside of you followed by the first sign of the warmth of his release. The expression over his face as he continued the rolling of his hips over you only turned you on more when you pulled him closer to you kissing over the side of his neck. After a few final thrusts, Negan’s breathing grew loud and he nuzzled his nose against the side of your neck with you clinging tightly to him. Negan pumped you full of his cum, his cock still throbbing inside of you after he reached his orgasm. You were surprised how much you enjoyed the feeling of it. “Fuck.”

Stroking your fingers through his damp hair, you felt like the world was spinning around you. Your body ached in the most amazing of ways and you loved the sounds of Negan’s deep breaths against the side of your neck.

With a throaty groan, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you allowing his softening cock to pull from your body. Whining out, you hated the empty feeling it left you with, but you felt the warmth of his release spilling out of you and sliding down your thighs.

With a grunt, Negan got up from the bed and you felt your heart sinking. Throughout the whole thing, Negan made sure to make everything very intimate between the two of you, so when he stood up you almost assumed that he was already getting ready to leave. He had done what you had asked of him of course, so what more did he need to do?

Closing your eyes, your breathing started to calm down with your skin feeling like it was on fire. As the bed dipped, you found yourself surprised to feel the warmth of Negan beside you again. Opening your eyes, you felt him wiping at the mess he made over your thighs with a tissue and you reached up to stroke over his jawline.

“I thought you were leaving,” you declared while Negan finished cleaning you up. Tossing the tissue into the garbage, Negan crawled in over you again and traced over your features with his rough fingertips. The way he looked at you took your breath away and you stole another kiss from his lips.

“Nope,” he shook his head with a smirk, peppering playful kisses over your jawline then your shoulder and then to your breast. Nipping at your nipple had your back arching up toward him and he growled. His left hand caressed in over the side of your body and you hummed. “You did so good. How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” you answered with a hum as hand lifted and his thumb swept over your bottom lip. “I mean, I ache, but I feel really good.”

“Good,” he slurred with a happy smirk, pressing another kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Resting your head over the center of his chest, you stroked your fingers over the damp hair that were over his lower abdomen. Pressing a kiss to your temple, Negan squeezed you in closer to him and it made you both smile. “Do you regret your decision?”

“Not one bit,” your answer was immediate, drawing what sounded like a snort from his lips and it made you lift your head from his chest to stare up at him. “The only thing I’m starting to regret is that this will be over soon.”

“Not that soon. You have me all night,” Negan reminded you with a wink, his raspy voice drawing you in to kiss him again. With an arrogant bob of his head, he gave you another one of his sexy smiles before squeezing over your bottom. “Which means I’m yours until morning.”

“Oh yeah,” your eyebrow arched in curiosity and he nodded his head.

“And lets not pretend that this is gonna be the last time,” Negan declared, his nose nuzzling in against yours when he claimed your lips in a kiss again. “We both know that after tonight, you belong to me. All of you belongs to me.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx  @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03​ @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat

[wrioluvr]

subby vampire x dom male reader pt 2 pt 1

thank u guys for liking kliff!! he's so baby. felt kinda mean and thought about a scenario where reader is like, a regular monster fucker and poor kliff finds out he hooked up with another vampire and gets super jealous teehee... but this is wholesome tho.

content: reader is kind of a player, blowjob (reader receiving), reader loves tormenting the poor old man, more plot-focused than pure smut

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱

after visiting kliff at his crumbling manor a few more times, you decided that you were getting tired of making the trip out into the woods everytime, and invited him over to your house instead, an invitation he eagerly accepted. though he kept a calm composure, inwardly, his thoughts were running wild - he would finally be able to bask in a whole home full of your scent.... maybe even steal a few small trinkets he could toy with whenever he felt lonely... or... or even get a feel of your bed, where he fantasised about waking up next to you and spending the rest of his days as your faithful househusband. oh, how delightful.

"thank you ever so much for allowing me to enter your abode. i am most honoured." thanking you profusely, he elegantly sat down on your sofa, only to immediately scrunch up his face in discomfort. you stared at him, puzzled. "what's wrong? you don't like my home?"

"no, no... it's not that... it's just that... this scent is so familiar. in an unnverving way..." he mumbled, talking to himself. suddenly, a look of recognition, mixed with horror, dawned on his face. "correct me if i'm wrong, but... there's not a chance you've had another vampire over.... is there?"

"oh! i forgot you vampires have a heightened sense of smell. yeah, i hooked up with another vampire like, 3 weeks ago." you said nonchantly, like it was the most insignificant thing ever. kliff merely gaped at you, aghast at your casualness. "so... so... i'm not your first vampire relationship?" he asked meekly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

"well, yes. i dated, hmm...." you start to list them on your fingers. "two vampires, one werewolf, one merman... oh, right, and one evil ass fairy. he was mean."

poor kliff looked like he was about to collapse, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. thankfully he was sitting down, otherwise he would have fallen over. "where on earth do you even find these creatures?"

"i get around."

"and you never thought to mention this?!"

"i mean, i didn't really think it was important..."

kliff sighed, suddenly feeling a little insecure at his complete lack of romantic experience in contrast to your many flings. "may i at least see what your past vampire suitors looked like?" he didn't want to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling very clingy, even more than usual. he had to be better than all your exes! so that you wouldn't leave him like you left them!

"sure. here you go." you pull out your phone and show him a picture, only for kliff to gasp loudly and clutch his chest even tighter. what a drama queen.

"HIM."

"you know him??"

"that little whore was going around sleeping with every man and woman in town a hundred years ago! i cannot BELIEVE he is still so promiscuous in this day and age. he even seduced you..."

"woah! language, kliff!"

kliff stops mid-ramble and clears his throat in embarassment. "my apologies. this is most uncouth of me. i do not know why i am getting so frustrated over this. the two of you are not seeing each other anymore, correct?"

"yes. you're the only one i'm seeing right now."

"and, if i may be so bold to inquire,,,, how was he like as a lover?"

"he was kinda annoying." kilff let a smirk escape his lips upon hearing this. "i knew it-" "the head was good though."

"what- what does 'head' mean?"

"he sucked my dick." you say bluntly.

"oh, good heavens."

"don't be a prude! wait... kliff, are you jealous of him?"

"i most certainly am not."

"at your big age? please be serious." you tease, amused at how possessive he suddenly got.

"do NOT make fun of me. i said i'm not." the pout adorning his face said otherwise.

kliff barely noticed it, but slowly he inched closer and closer to you, eyes scanning your neck as he frantically searched for bite marks.

"did he bite you anywhere? did it hurt? you must know, i would never even consider drinking from you, right?" he took your hand, eyes searching desperately for validation, any form of praise that indicated you thought he was the better vampire.

you rolled your eyes. "jeez, kliff. i didn't take you for the possessive type. don't worry, none of my previous vampire lovers have drunk from me."

that did little to reassure him, since he was on the same page. "then... then... i must be better at this 'head' thing!" he declares, face full of misplaced determination. you almost double over laughing.

"it's not a competition! my god, you're so unserious."

"it does not matter to me! i must be better than that lustful shame of a vampire at every aspect. especially since we are of the same species."

"okay, okay. calm down. i'll let you try."

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"just let me know you can't breathe or whatever. i'll guide you through your first time, yeah?" kliff nods, a blush extremely prominent on his undead features as he knelt between your thighs. he quite enjoyed this... submissive position.

"also- watch the fangs." the authoritative, yet gentle tone of your voice sent shivers down his spine.

he himself could be considered a monster, but he paled in comparison to the monster that sprung out of your pants once he clumsily undid the zipper. kliff gasped, a look of pure lust and nervousness written all over his expression as your slightly erect cock hovered over his face.

"so... basically... you just put it inside your mouth, then start sucking it. easy enough, right? come on, don't tell me you've never heard of a blowjob in your entire existence."

"of course i have..... i admit, i own quite a bit of... erotic fiction." he mumbles, eyes still on your cock, cheeks growing redder by the second. "but, goodness, it's so different seeing a real phallus up close. especially one of your size."

"phallus??? just say cock."

"mhm...." he hesitates, unsure where to even begin. flustered, he looks up imploringly, silently begging for you to guide him.

you chuckle at his frozen state, completely at a loss on what to do. "so needy. i'll help you."

tenderly, you run a hand through his soft hair, applying just a little bit of power to tug his head forward, guiding him to your tip. obediently, he opened his mouth, taking the shaft inside. it was warm, his rough tongue grazing over your tip, causing you to grip his hair a little tighter. kliff let out a masochistic moan in response. slowly, he ventured further down your length, but unable to reach the base without gagging. he looked up at you with apologetic eyes, but you squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was doing well. "good job, kliff. you're a natural." spurred on by your praise, kliff found a lewd rhythm, mouth bobbing up and down in a continuous passionate attempt to make you feel good.

your small grunts of pleasure kept him going. panting, you ask, "you sure you've never done this before, kliff? you're so good." he frantically shakes his head, mouth still full of cock, as if the idea that he engaged in such intimate acts with anyone but you was horrifying. he was loyal like that. it was intoxicating, the head only vampires could provide - fangs lightly grazing your cock's sensitive areas, the slight thrill unmatched. merman head was sloppy, werewolf head was rough, but vampire head was a little dangerous. you liked that.

soon enough, you were about to cum. you warned him, patting his shoulder twice, he vigorously nodded, giving you permission to cum inside his mouth. he'd only ever been used to having blood in his mouth, so having your cum inside instead was a new experience. but he liked it. maybe a little too much, as he swallowed it so enthusiastically. you gazed upon him affectionately, finding his virgin excitement over such lewd matters endearing.

"how was i?" the breathless question hung in the air, a reminder of the atmosphere thick with your intertwined tension.

cupping his face with one hand, the other stroking his hair soothingly, you muttered the words he most wanted to hear. "you were better than him."

kliff jumps into your arms, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "thank you. you're the absolute best." he's so content to spend the rest of his days with you. treat him with care, yeah?

>ᵥᵥ< 💘

tags: @4eaever @szapizzapanda @flyingsquids @vampmasc

omg i'm so happy with this one, one of my fav writings i've ever done so far. i felt like i characterised kliff and captured their dynamic quite well here hehehe

[topazadine]

Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!

[brokenmutations]

Night Shift

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • POSSIBLE DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS • Joining a new timeline didn’t stop the nightmares from occurring. But at least, he doesn’t suffer alone…or at all after some time • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Major Injuries / Blood Loss / Nightmares / Anxiety

“Another nightmare?”

Logan looks away from the scene that was New York City late at night to catch the eyes the voice came from, which happened to be Y/N. She had stepped out onto the fire escape for her own reasons and to her surprise there was Logan on the escape of the apartment next door.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that”

“Better than Wade sleepwalking. Had to save him from you cutting his head off for almost grabbing your balls” Y/N scoffs, bringing herself to sit in the stairs of the escape looking out to the same scene. “Should give you some rope to tie him to his and Al’s bed because who knows when he’ll sleep walk”

“If you’re offering, I’ll take it” Logan scoffs leaning over the railing listening to the noise that he both misses and wishes it would stop. Which really makes him miss his home in the woods…back in his timeline with his Y/N.

“I know you’re not one for charity, but if you ever need a good nights sleep or company after a bad night…my door, or window is always open”

“I’ll think about it next time, bub” Logan pulled himself away from the railing to bring himself back inside as Y/N remained outside taking in every single sound of New York before wincing and putting her headphones back on while heading back inside.

Logan thought a few nights with a nightmare each time that he could handle it. But staying up after every occurrence only made him grumpier and Wade wasn’t having it for the most part.

“I can tell just by your baby hand that Logan didn’t sleep well”

“All I ask for this writer is to give him SOMETHING, but no! Who cares about plot nowadays we all saw his fucking Hawaiian roll buttered up abs” Wade groans behind the mask wishing he didn’t agree to this mission with Y/N. “Sorry. Kitty was angry this morning because of the lack of sleep he’s been having.”

“I got that much, Wilson” Y/N frowns rubbing circles on his back before suddenly taking his katana and slicing the once running target that entered the wrong alley way. “Guess it’s a short day”

“Bless your fucking heart” Wade quickly took his phone out taking a picture of the hit and sending it to the contact. “I’ll send you your money when I get it”

“Are you going to use most of yours for cocaine again?”

“Get your bloodhound nose out of mine alright?!”

Y/N watched him leave amused for a moment before disposing of the body because baby-hand-magee couldn’t for whatever reason.

Returning to the apartment later than usual didn’t bother Y/N, but she also didn’t expect someone to be in her apartment at the hour that it was. She knew there was someone given her senses, so when she flicked the light on for Logan to scramble suddenly and notice her unfazed expression he was a bit surprised. But so was she a little.

“I didn’t think you’d take me up on it”

Logan shrugs a bit not knowing what to say as Y/N couldn’t fight back a smile. She enters the apartment entirely, shutting the door behind her as she drops her bag on the floor.

“Make yourself at home” Y/N shot him another smile while she walked past him to enter the kitchenette setting down the takeout bag she had along with her other belonging.

The man obviously felt foreign in her apartment even with the invitation. Logan brought himself to sit on the couch watching her movements that weren’t much different from her. Except for more hesitation when handling things that might overwhelm her senses.

“I got takeout and I always buy extra if you’re interested.” Y/N gestures with her head to the kitchen she stood in if he wanted some. But when he didn’t come once she finished putting her dinner in a bowl, she decided to make him one regardless.

While she did such, Logan looked at the frame pictures on the wall behind the couch noticing there was a picture of him. He brought his whole body to face it and get a better look.

This universe’s Logan looked happy and so did Y/N beside him. There was another beside it that was a Polaroid with Laura looking at the picture confused but had a laughing Y/N in the background with Logan reaching for the thing.

“There’s a whole box of Polaroids I can grab that she took from when she was younger” Y/N’s voice startled him slightly as if he had gotten caught for looking at pictures. “Some are very blurry but they mean a lot to Laura and I so I keep them” she handed his plate which he wasn’t going to refuse after she took the time to plate it.

Before she sat with him, Y/N pulled a box out from under the couch setting it beside him. “Whenever you want to look at them” she stated while finally sitting to eat her late dinner, she reached into her coat pocket to take out a bottle of pills and dropped one on top of her rice. Causing Logan to stare and inspect his food. “I didn’t drug yours. It’s my sleeping pill, I have to eat something with it and this just makes it easier”

You don’t need them, sweetheart. Just focus on my heartbeat. That’ll calm you down

Sometimes it’s as fast as jackrabbit, Lo. Are you sure it’ll work?

You’ve said the pills make yea sick in the morning. Even more drowsy. This will work and if not, I’ll help you find alternatives

Okay, love. You know I trust you

Logan’s heart started to ache for what he lost in his timeline and Y/N felt the mood shift as they sat together eating. She wanted to comfort him but didn’t want to over step in any way.

After some time and a little clean up, Y/N went to bed once she got the foldable bed ready for Logan. Leaving him with a box of pictures alone to go through. He didn’t right away and stayed in the bed trying to sleep but wanting to know what this world’s Logan was like to these two important people in his life was itching his brain.

A lot of the Polaroids were blurry and could tell those looking that the young photographer was just learning how to use it. Then they got clearer and Laura would mainly take pictures of Y/N with her because she didn’t mind it. But there was several of Logan both pissed that he’s being photographed and the occasional one where he’s admiring Y/N.

Then there’s a few, like three Polaroids…where her Logan had taken them. One of her sleeping on his chest, another with just the two of them, then one of Y/N in a window holding Laura as she slept. The back of it had some writing on it…

Who I’m fighting for

Logan couldn’t help but feel the pain that Y/N could’ve possibly—-and most likely did feel when she read that a moment after her Logan passed. It made sense why she sobbed when reuniting with Laura.

This kept him awake for a while longer until he finally let sleep take over.

More into the night is when Y/N woke through a haze hearing heavy breathing. The apartment was small even with a one bedroom so she could hear everything regardless of her mutation. She pulled herself out of the bed grabbing the oversized flannel off her chair to slip on so she wouldn’t be in just a tank top and shorts when investigating.

It was obvious what was happening when Y/N drew close to Logan’s tossing form. She carefully moved the box of Polaroid off the bed before bringing herself beside him.

“Logan…” Y/N whispers watching him grip onto the sheets and the smallest glint of metal revealing itself. “Logan it’s just a nightmare”

He wasn’t coming out of it and Y/N knew what could happen next. She then decided to risk it and do what she used to do for him.

________

“Logan it’s okay…you’re okay, nothing is harming anyone you love” Y/N whispers, resting her head on Logan’s chest that was once rising and falling at an unbearable speed. But the second her head rested on it, it slowed. “You’re okay…we’re okay…I’m okay…”

Once Logan calmed, he brought his arms around her sighing. He pressed his lips onto the top of her head feeling her relax against him.

“You just…know how to bring me back”

“I’ll always find a way to bring you back, Lo. Even if it kills me”

________

The second her head rested on his chest, Logan relaxed and the small hint of his claws coming out retracted back. He didn’t wake but he finally relaxed.

“You’re okay, Lo” Y/N whispers rubbing circles on his chest feeling his body relax beneath her. “Everything is going to be okay”

She let the exhaustion take her from the day and found herself fast asleep on him. The steady of his breathing and his heartbeat calmed her…calmed all the sounds she’s been overwhelmed with…

This has been happening for a while. Logan sleeping over and Y/N helping him sleep. She would normally slip out of his embrace during an early hour of the day so he wouldn’t notice. But after the first five times, he’s noticed. He didn’t want to say anything because he enjoyed it. Especially the one time she didn’t get up early and remained there peacefully, giving Logan a chance to admire her while she slept.

They both missed this with their universe’s other…but there was also more than their other had

The most recent time it happened, it was extra difficult to get Logan to fall back asleep with his claws still retracted. That when Logan woke in the morning, disappointed she wasn’t there…he realized shortly why when Y/N handed him coffee and her arm was bandaged. You can’t lie to Logan. You can try but it won’t work. He knows he cut her by accident and it was her first time but her first time with this Logan.

“I’m sorry…” Logan randomly told her when he accompanied her and Wade on a job. The two of them taking look out after Wade insisted ‘he got this’

“Nightmares are scary things, Logan. We all do things when we have them”

“I…You’ve never had them with me around” Logan whispered. “Or least when I’ve been around…”

“I guess I’ve been sleeping better…have been taking my sleeping pills less” Y/N knew the blush on her complexion was giving her away on how she felt and Logan tried so hard to ignore it but the tips of his ears burned red. “What’s taking Wade so long? I can’t hear any fighting or—-“

“Smell any blood. Should we—-“ Logan was cut off by the sound of an explosion as he instinctively covered Y/N who covered her ears until she felt alright to release. “Fucking moron”

“Awww thanks for the new nickname, peanut” Wade cheers strutting out of the now burning building with one less arm. He noticed their position and couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “So!” Ignoring the current fire. “Are you two coming to my party later? Al says she found cocaine but knowing her she probably had Mary Puppins sniff some questionable white bags so it could actually end up being meth”

“I don’t think the poor pup is an efficient drug sniffing dog” Y/N commented as she went into her bag to put her headphones on. “Besides. I’d love to but I have another job later”

“You uh need a hand?” Logan asked, sensing the devilish smirk on Wade’s face resulting in him unsheathing his claws making him hold his hands up.

“I was instructed to take it on alone…but I’ll be alright. Usually am” Y/N reassures. “You’re still…allowed to be in my apartment if you don’t want to be at the party for the whole thing”

“Oh he’s gonna stay. Yukio is gonna do tarot readings” Wade wrapped his baby arm around Logan, enticing a growl out of the man.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile before throwing her backpack on. “Just don’t get into too much trouble, Wade. I hate talking to the landlord for you” and with that said, she left the two to clean up whatever mess there could be after what Wade did.

The party was a bit much. Logan was starting to get frustrated even if he sat on the couch with Dogpool watching everybody get drunk, have their tarots read, and listen to more of Wade’s sex stories. He wasn’t doing much but nursing a beer and think about her. She’s been on his mind for much longer than when she said she was doing a job solo. He was going to take that night as an opportunity to admit to feelings he’s felt much longer than the time Y/N first helped him with his nightmares.

She’s always been patient with him when he was standoff-ish in the beginning.

She kept her cool when he’d yell out his frustration

She never hesitated to give him answers to any questions he had about her Logan or Laura

She always listens. Never pushes her thoughts.

She’s there whenever you need her.

Every Logan will love every Y/N out there…

Mary Puppins suddenly stirred beside Logan which he normally didn’t care about given she can do what she pleases. But she jumped off the couch and instantly went to the door starting to scratch it. Given the hour it was, 2AM, Wade was plastered and couldn’t take her out so he decided to do it himself.

Once the pup was strapped in her harness and leash, Logan opened the door only for Puppins to lunge forward and toward something that only made him grumble with the force she was giving.

“Calm down, bub. We’ll get outside soon” Logan sighs shutting the door behind him and stilling for a moment when he heard footsteps. He quickly scoops up Mary Puppins and hesitantly approaches the stairs.

If it wasn’t Mary Puppins in his arms, he’d drop everything. Instead he carefully set her down before quickly approaching Y/N and her fragile state.

“What happened?” Logan frowns hearing his heartbeat rapid in his ears as he tried to remain calm even if her currently bleeding state wasn’t helping.

“A lot. I…I wanna sleep”

“No, bub. You’re bleedin’ we gotta stop it…or—“ Logan froze when Y/N collapsed in his arms and he didn’t hesitate to yell for Wade.

It’s been an annoyingly anxiety inducing couple of hours in the ER, then the waiting room. Logan sat beside Wade who kept dozing off every now and then because of the booze in his system but at least Mary Puppins in his arm licked his face to perk him up. Logan’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and the scowl on his face became more permanent expression until he heard any news.

In a panic, Laura quickly entered the waiting room scanning the room and locking eyes with Logan before approaching.

“What happened?!”

“A job gone wrong. It happens.” Wade yawns rubbing his eyes and once he got the sleepiness out of them he was met with an identical glare from Laura that matched the one on Logan’s. “What? She passed out before we got details, angel babies. We won’t know more until she wakes up. What I said is the best you’re gonna get” he sighed turning himself toward the reader of this story. “Afraid if I say more. I’ll traumatize the nurses over my baby limbs more than the amount of blood that escapes my hot bod”

Now as the four of them wait, with the occasional letting the pup out to do her business, Logan couldn’t help but think of when he lost his Y/N.

It wasn’t like with the rest of the X-Men, but if some of the X-Men were still alive. They would say it’s the reason he left in the first place

________

“What do you mean she didn’t leave the building?!” Logan shouted at Scott only to leave the plane in a hurry back to the scene.

“Jean stop hi—-“

“No”

“Jean.”

“Scott, let him go” Ororo sided with Jean in the silent agreement of he needs to see for himself.

The smell of her blood stained his senses the closer he got to it. Why didn’t they try and save her? What did she say to them?

Instead of those questions piercing a thought in his mind, Logan found Y/N barely hanging on and the only reason they didn’t pull her out because if they did…she would only die instantly and she needed him. For one last moment.

“No…No no no…Y/N, baby” Logan’s voice cracked at the sight as he dropped to his knees trying to figure out a way to cut through the beams that were piercing her in several places. “Baby I-I’m gonna…I-I…I-I’ll get you out. Yeah I will…”

“Lo…p-please…we both know—-“

“No! I can’t. I-I can’t lose y-you” He sobbed, this man with a rough exterior sobbed and it only broke her heart as she reached for him. Feeling his cheek gently place itself in her palm. “Please…D-Don’t leave me”

“I love you. I love you so m-much” Y/N winced feeling the pain subside but only in that direction. “Y-You…y-ou’ll find me…a-again…p-promise”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed gripping her wrist and focusing on her breathing that started to slow. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much. I didn’t say it enough. I-I love you.” He cried watching the love of his life wither.

________

But this wasn’t happening again.

Laura laid her head on the side of Y/N’s bed with Logan’s jacket draped over her as she occupied the chair by her bed. While Logan sat in the one in the far corner. Wade had to bring Mary Puppins home and tell those who stayed the night after a drunken party that Y/N pulled through.

What happened was Y/N took another job for the same guy that her job with Wade and Logan came from. But the purpose of it being solely only her was to trap her and force information out of her on the regenerative properties the two have. She knows very little about the properties because Wade doesn’t know how his manifested and Logan’s don’t need a rocket scientist to figure out. They thought they hit the gold mine when capturing her but instead while they met their inevitable end, Y/N gotten beaten and physical broken in the process.

Which explains the sling made for collar bone fractures on her, and the bandaging around her torso for more than just internal bleeding but to stabilize the broken ribs. The bruises and cuts littered are self explanatory.

The only plus side to all of this in her case was how sterile and quiet a private hospital room is.

All Y/N heard were their heartbeats and how fast they were going given her current state.

“I’m…n-not dying. You can calm just a little bit” Y/N sighed out, hearing the quick shuffling indicating Logan practically shot out of his chair approaching her other side while Laura gently rested her hand on Y/N’s that was rested on her stomach. “I’m okay sweet girl” she reassured taking her hand into hers as she finally opened her eyes wincing slightly at the light and her shifting only to feel the extent of her injuries. “T-That goes for you too, Lo…I’m okay.”

“Your injuries say otherwise” Logan frowns sitting on the edge of the bed watching Laura hesitantly climb into the bed after Y/N ushered her to do so. “Don’t…don’t let her move too much, kid”

“Worrywart. She’s fine.” Y/N let her lay beside her as Laura was always mindful of injuries and didn’t mess with any of the tubes she was connected to.

She was in the hospital for three days. Laura stayed for two and went back to Y/N’s apartment to clean it up for when she comes back. Including getting her prescriptions and things. Logan stayed for all three days. She wanted him to stay for all three days.

“You okay on the pull out bed?” Y/N tried to help make the bed with the one arm but Logan quickly and gently took the part of the blanket out of her hand. “I can still help”

“You broke your collarbone on the left side, sweetcheeks. You ain’t lifting a finger even if five are out of commission” Wade tugged too much on his side resulting in a grumble from Logan and Laura to push him away.

“I’m okay on the couch bed, mo—-Y/N” Laura couldn’t help the embarrassed blush to rise on her cheeks for almost calling Y/N mom in front of others. Even if that’s what she is to her.

Wade being Wade was about to comment until Y/N glared at him before tiredly making her way to her room. Logan hesitantly follows, letting Laura boss Wade around to help her finish making the bed even if he’s already messed up.

“So uh. She’s staying on the couch bed so I’ll go back to Wa—-“

“You can sleep with me…” Y/N had her back turned to him which she was grateful given the blush that started to spread. “I’ll be bounded to one side since I have to be sleeping sitting up. Plenty of space for another body”

“I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you any further by accident”

“I promise you…you won’t hurt me” She frowns reaching for another pillow, only for Logan to stop her and do it himself.

Once the night stilled and Wade was sleeping on the floor while Laura took the bed…Logan laid awake beside Y/N’s still form occasionally glancing over to make sure she’s still breathing. As much as she was saved and alive, he couldn’t help the fear aching in his chest that she would disappear right before him.

The second he shut his eyes, they instantly shot open causing him to quickly look at her seeing her breathing heavy and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Y/N—-“ Logan quickly maneuvered on the bed to be sat on his knees by her side. Resting his hand on her face watching her face grimace and her eyes remain close. “Y/N, baby it’s a nightmare—-“

“P-Please…Please don’t take them from me again” She begged, still in her unconscious state as the tears kept coming her body tensed at first when she felt another hand rest on her other cheek. But suddenly relaxed and sobbed more while she opened her eyes. “Logan…everything is too loud”

Logan frowns wiping away her tears letting his body relax beside her and bringing her close while minding her injuries. The sense of protectiveness he emitted brought an old familiar warm feeling in Y/N’s chest as she looked up at him with a pleading expression.

“Just focus on my heartbeat, that’ll calm you down” He whispers being mindful of the noise happening inside her head as she rests her head on his shoulder keeping her eyes on him. “Breathe…just listen. Focus on that” he relaxed himself enough so his heart wouldn’t be pounding in her ears.

But the second she focused and started to finally relax after the nightmare, Y/N shut her eyes letting the last of the tears fall.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you” He whispers to her bringing his lips to her forehead hearing a soft sigh escape her lips.

“Logan…”

“Hm? What is it, princess?”

“Please don’t leave me”

“I’m not going anywhere”

[hoshifighting]

telepathic sex with minghao

check the part 1 (kinktober bonus) to understand it!

WARNINGS: +18, smut, soulmates plot, oral (f. receiving), mentions of body fluids (cum/precum), penetrative sex, destiny, spiritualist!hao

the whole day, all you could think about was sinking into your bed, pressing play on that guided meditation, and slipping back into that space, hoping—no, needing—to find him there again. sure, you’d see him tomorrow, standing behind the counter like nothing’s changed, with that little smirk in his eyes, but there was something different about being there with him, in that other place, in that thick, buzzing energy that seemed to heighten everything.

so, the second you were home, you didn’t waste time. you showered quickly, barely towel-drying yourself before collapsing on the bed, setting up the meditation, and letting yourself sink back down into that state. this time, it happened faster. almost as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt that shift, like you were slipping through a veil into something thicker, warmer, buzzing with that same familiar pulse.

you blinked, adjusting to the light, and there he was, standing right in front of you. minghao was circling around you, fingers snapping in little bursts, moving in a rhythmic way that felt like it was clearing something from the air.

you frowned, still not totally awake in this space. “what are you doing?”

he smirked, not even pausing his movements. “clearing your energy,” he said simply, finishing the circle around your head before moving closer, his fingers brushing just near the center of your chest. his touch didn’t land, not exactly, but you felt it like a ripple moving outward, settling low in your stomach, grounding you here, in this place.

then, there was this pull—right at your chest, like a magnetic tug right at your heart, making you stumble forward. minghao was there to catch you, his arms wrapping around you like he was expecting it, holding you steady as you found your balance.

“breathe,” he murmured, close enough that you could feel his words against your cheek. “get used to the energy here. just… let it in.”

you inhaled slowly, feeling the warmth of his bare chest against yours, solid and grounding. sparks prickled along your skin, tingling and hot, like electricity, and the second you noticed it, your body reacted, a shiver that never left the back of your neck, nipples hardening, the little body haird raising.

minghao’s fingers tightened around your waist, almost as if he could feel the shift in you, the way your pulse was quickening, the way warmth was spreading lower, pooling between your legs. you felt it, that slick heat building, and it was almost surreal, feeling every sensation doubled, heightened by the energy surrounding you, by the intensity of his presence so close.

“good,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you’re relaxing into it. just… let go.”

you felt yourself growing wetter right in the middle of your legs, hot, dripping honey, that shone in that strange light, making minghao shiver with you, his mouth watered with saliva.

time kind of blipped, like the whole scene shifted in a flash, and the next thing you knew, you were laid out, floating on… nothing, really. but whatever it was, it felt firm, like some invisible force was holding your back. your back arched, body practically begging for that sensation building between your legs that only grew stronger.

and then you looked down. minghao was right there, right between your legs, mouth open, lips wet as he took you in, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. his eyes locked onto yours, before his head dipped down, lips sucking softly at first, then harder, deeper.

you felt yourself growing hotter, your whole body buzzing, glowing even. you could sense your aura shifting, heating up, turning redder, and minghao’s eyes would flick up, watching the effect he had on you—and ur aura. he was savoring you, every drop, licking every spot you didn’t even know was that sensitive. and with every slurp, every glide of his tongue, you felt yourself slipping deeper, melting into this strange feeling.

it was unreal—like nothing you’d ever felt before. you’d had orgasms before, sure, but this? this was like the sensation turned up to ten times over, every nerve lit up, every cell buzzing. you felt like you were dissolving in minghao’s mouth, pulsing around his tongue as he drank you in. it was wet—insanely wet, slick and thick, dripping all over his lips, down your thighs, leaving this glossy shine in that strange, pulsing light around you two. you could feel it, this heady slickness pooling, spreading everywhere his mouth had touched.

minghao slowly pulled back, looking up at you with this soft, almost smug smile, his mouth glistening. he reached up, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, his eyes warm and knowing. it was like he was looking at something precious, something he’d put his whole energy into just for the pleasure of seeing you fall apart. his hand cradled your face, thumb brushing your cheek, and his eyes held this glint, like he knew exactly what he’d done to you.

you barely managed to catch your breath, still riding out those last waves, when the words just spilled out: “hao… i need more,” you whispered. “please… please, i need you to—”

but he shook his head, soft smile still in place. “that,” he murmured, gaze steady and a bit sad, “i can’t give you here.”

your face fell, your fingers gripping his arm, heart pounding. “but… why not?” you pleaded, looking up at him, trying to fight against the drowsy haze still clouding your mind. “minghao, please… don’t make me wait, i need this.”

his smile softened as he watched you, and you could feel him almost giving in, but instead he just reached out, placing one warm, steady hand right on your forehead. “shhh…,” he murmured, pressing down gently. “rest. i’ll be back.”

the second his fingers touched your forehead, before you could protest, everything around you faded out, slipping into a deep, effortless sleep.

— // one week later // —

you tried to ignore it. really, really tried.

it’d been a week, and somehow, every time you walked past that cafeteria—no matter how hard you tried to ignore it—something happened. it started small. one day, you were just passing by, not even thinking about going in, when your graduation ring slipped right off your finger, clinking to the ground right in front of the door like it had a mind of its own. a little weird, but whatever, you shrugged it off.

but then, the next day, you were walking by again, heels clicking on the sidewalk, when out of nowhere your heel got snagged on the edge of a manhole cover, yanking you back so hard you nearly fell flat on your face, right outside that same door. annoying, but maybe just another accident.

after that, things started getting… weirder. the day after that, someone bumped into you so hard your shoulder was still sore the next morning. and it happened right there, outside the café. you’d started feeling a little paranoid.

tonight felt different. the café was closed, dark, the chairs stacked up inside, lights off, and the sidewalk empty as you passed. finally, maybe a night without something weird happening, you thought, shoulders relaxing a little. you were almost past the entrance when you felt it—a strong gust of wind, like it came out of nowhere. it rushed around you, tugging at your coat, your hair flying everywhere, like some invisible force was grabbing hold of you, trying to get your attention.

you cursed under your breath, struggling to keep your coat shut, fumbling as the wind seemed to push you backward, straight toward the door. just as you were about to fight your way through, you heard the soft creak of a door, and looked up to see… minghao. standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, looking right at you with that same knowing look, like he’d been waiting for this.

“fighting the universe, hmm?” he said, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. the wind finally calmed, like it was giving you both a break, letting you take him in under the streetlight glow.

you could only stare, breath caught in your throat. “i… i wasn’t coming in,” you said, almost defensively, not sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

he just chuckled, that soft, rich sound you’d missed more than you realized. “yeah? funny. ‘cause the universe seems pretty set on bringing you here.” he stepped closer.

your heart raced as he reached out, his fingers brushing your hand, grounding you, like he knew exactly what you needed without you saying a word. “you can try to avoid it all you want,” he said softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “but we’re going to find each other, no matter what. again and again.”

again and again.

it was like he was speaking straight to something buried deep in you, a part you hadn’t even known was there until now.

you swallowed, trying to find your footing, even though the world was spinning just from his hand on yours. “i… i wasn’t avoiding you,” you said firmly. but even you could hear how flimsy that sounded.

minghao just smiled sad, “then why haven’t i seen you?” he asked, no judgment in his voice. “not here. not… anywhere else.”

you didn’t have a good answer, but you felt your chest tighten, “i just… i didn’t know if… if it was real. or if i’d made it all up.” your words tumbled out, like you were finally admitting what you hadn’t even let yourself think abou.

he stepped closer, closing the last bit of space between you two, his hand shifting from your knuckles to cradle your face, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your cheek. “you didn’t make it up,” he murmured, “it’s as real as it gets.”

his gaze softened, his fingers brushing your hair back. “i don’t know how, or why. but i know i’ve been looking for you—forever, it feels like. and now that i’ve found you…” he trailed off, his eyes locked on yours, like he was letting you see every piece of him, like he’d let you see right into his soul if you wanted.

your heart hammered in your chest, all the little moments of the past week flooding back, every strange pull, every little “accident” pulling you right here, right to him. it hit you, in this strange, wild way—you couldn’t escape it. didn’t want to.

“so, what now?” you whispered, but you knew he heard it, felt it. his hand still held your face, and he leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin.

“now?” he echoed, his mouth quirking up just a little, playful but with that serious, steady gaze that made you feel like you were the only thing in his world. “now you let me in.” his lips brushed against yours, a kiss that felt like it reached through every barrier, like it pulled every lost piece of you back together.

it was wild—surreal, even. just a week ago, he was the barista, the one who knew your coffee order without you even having to say it, that little corner of comfort in your day. now you were spread out on his bed, legs wide open, every nerve in your body sparking like you were on the edge of some electric storm, and it was all because of him.

a vase on his dresser toppled, crashing to the floor in sync with your moans, and you barely even registered the sound. some incense he must’ve lit earlier was smoking heavy in the room, but there was something different about it now, like it was reacting to you two, the energy so intense that even the air around you couldn’t keep still. it smelled rich, earthy, mixed with the heat of both your bodies, wrapping around you, thick and heady.

“minghao—” his name slipped out of your mouth like a confession, your voice hoarse, desperate, and probably louder than you meant it. you couldn’t even guess how loud it was because all you could feel was him, pressing into you, deep and raw.

raw—you’d never done it raw with anyone before, but somehow, with him, it wasn’t even a question. you trusted him, in this immediate, soul-deep way that didn’t make sense but felt like the most natural thing in the world. it was like your body and soul both knew, this is it. no second-guessing, no holding back.

he had you on the edge, his forehead pressed against yours, and somehow, it made you want to just… talk, let it all out, every thought spinning in your head.

“hao…” you gasped, fingers digging into his back, “why does it feel like this, like… like i’ve known you my whole damn life?” you arched your back, letting out this squeal when he went deeper.

“maybe you have, babe… maybe we’ve done this a hundred times in a hundred different lives.” it hit you deep, settling somewhere in your chest.

“shut up,” you half-laughed, but there was a lump in your throat, a part of you that wanted to believe every word. “this—this is insane, you know that, right?”

he just grinned, that slow, knowing smile, his hand moving down your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin. “insane? you saying you don’t want it?”

“no, that’s not what i’m sayin’,” you shot back, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the little smile creeping in as he rolls his hips in a circle. “just… this is so… so fast. it’s like… i dunno… like we skipped the whole ‘getting to know each other’ part.”

“maybe we already know everything we need to,” he murmured, and he dipped his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. “maybe we’re just… remembering—fuck! you feel it too, right? this…” he gestured by thrusting into you harder than before, making you melt, you knew what he meant.

you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he rolled his hips, hitting that spot that had you practically seeing stars. “fuck… yeah, i feel it… but i don’t even know what it is. feels like i’m in some fever dream.” you managed, breath catching.

“s’not a dream, sweetheart,” he muttered, leaning down to press his mouth against yours, his words vibrating through your lips. “you’re right here, with me. and i’m not goin’ anywhere. i feel it. can’t explain it, and i don’t care if it don’t make sense to anyone else.”

you swallowed, searching his eyes, and all you could see was honesty, that raw openness that felt like it was melting every wall you’d built around yourself. “then… don’t stop. don’t… don’t let go, okay?”

“wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he smiled, licking your lips before dipping the pink muscle inside your mouth.

[linkspooky]

JASON TODD VS. DABI: WHY NOT ME?

"You haven't been here long but you've seen him, right? The batman. The batman. He lives in darkness, to find the helpless and bring them into the light. So I have to wonder...why couldn't he do it for me?" The Boy Wonder: Issue #2

This is the story of the boy who didn't get saved. The story of a boy who really ought to have been saved. Of course, every victim deserves to be saved, but this boy was the son of a superhero. Can a hero who saves everyone, but fails to save his own son really be called a hero? As for the son, how does it feel to watch his father save complete strangers but let him fall to the wayside?

Jason Todd and Dabi are two characters with similar backstories and motives (so similar it's possible Dabi is outright based on Jason Todd) which are worthy of comparison. These are two tragic arcs which explore the conflict between a hero's responsibility to act as a father, and their responsibility to save people. As I said they are tragic because in both cases the hero fails, as a father, and a hero. However, I'm comparing the two because Jason Todd's story is a well written tragedy, and Toya's story is not.

If you were to write a story of my life, it would surely be a tragedy.

Aristotle's Poetics is the first attempt to define what Tragedy is, not as a story where sad things happen but a specific story structure. He outlines not only what makes tragedy, tragedy, but also what makes a good tragedy.

The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of a tragedy: Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in painting. The most beautiful colours, laid on confusedly, will not give as much pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.

I use this quote because the painting metaphor is a great way of explaining what I'm getting at, you can have a painting with the most wonderful colors, you can have a story with really good ideas like the Todoroki family plotline but if you don't use those colors correctly all you're going to end up with is a bad painting.

In poetics Aristotle clearly defines a tight well-structured plot as the first priority for effective tragedy, character as second.

Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator; as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long

To make sure you understand, it's vital in tragedy for all the pieces to fit together. Tragedy is a specific story format. Good tragedy uses the parts of a story well, but bad tragedy is sloppy and poorly put together. In tragedy, the whole has to be greater than the sum of its parts. The Todoroki Family are all good characters out of context, but the story could have enhanced their characters but detracted from them due to how poorly it is told. The fact that a lot of MHA fans are in love with the Todoroki family out of the context of the story, but also have constant complaints for how Horikoshi handles their plotlines is, in my opinion, very telling.

What Aristotle goes on to posit is the best tragedies do not come about by accident, but rather by the direct actions of the characters.

But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will thee be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. 

Therefore Tragedies require consequentialism, like Newton's Third Law, every action will have an equal and opposite reaction. To simplify a good tragedy arises from the consequences of the character's actions (or inaction). The most basic form is that the hero of the story will have a tragic flaw that they fail to improve upon in time and then leads to their destruction. In essence, tragedy is where the hero fails. Not only does the hero fail, but the hero loses, and that irreversible loss is what defines tragedy. Medea slays her own children, Oedipus rips his own eyes off and deserts his kingdom, Creon Antigone is buried alive and Creon's son, her fiancee, commits suicide.

These events share two things in common, they are irreversible (hence why they feel like good endings), and two they evoke catharsis. Aristotle defines the goal of tragedy to evoke terror and pity. We feel alongside these heroes, Medea was abandoned by the husband Jason who she left her home and slaughtered her own brother for, Oedipus did all of his crimes unwittingly and is a victim of fate, Antigone was doing the right thing by burying her brother so his soul could pass on to the afterlife.

There's all different sorts of tragedies, Hamliet explores more here. I'd say UTRH and Hellish Todoroki Family are tragedies centered around grief.

Tragedy works on extreme emotions, and extreme hard-hitting consequences to the hero's failures. The worst thing a tragedy can be is boring.

The Tragic Hero

Now that I'm done lecturing you let's actually talk about both My Hero Academia and Batman like I promised. Both of these stories don't actually feature the central victim as their protagonist, and that is a feature not a flaw.

Rather, the story we are being told is that of a tragic hero, failing to save a tragic victim because of their own personal flaws.

These flaws are called (hamartia) or "error in judgement". A hero, being called a hero of a story is often unaware of his flaws which is central to what makes them unable to fix those flaws in time. That flaw can later lead to a moral failing, such as Othello's jealousy, initially jealousy is an understandable emotion, but then it leads to him trusting Iago over his own wife and killing his wife in a rage.

Most importantly, the hero’s suffering and its far-reaching reverberations are far out of proportion to his flaw.

Let's begin with talking of the heroes and their flaws, Batman and Endeavor. My main reason for comparing these two is in these specific stories they have the same flaw, inability to move past their personal guilt towards their son, and the same conflict the duty of a father versus the duty of a hero.

However, Batman functions as a tragic hero, and Enji does not. The summary of their conflict is right here in these two panels.

A parent is required to place their children above everything else, because they are the ones responsible for bringing that child into the world. Bruce Wayne made the decision to adopt Jason. Enji made the decision to have children, however with Enji you have the added insidious motivation of he only wanted to make designer babies and just didn't care for the ones who didn't turn out right.

Bruce attempts to do both, to act as a father for Jason and also a crime fighter as batman but he can't do both. This comes to a head in Death of the Family when Jason is having serious trouble because of his lack of a strong parental figure, and Bruce knowing that Jason is in trouble chooses still to go off and fight crime instead of staying with him. The choice to place crimefighting over the child they chose to take responsibility for has the unintended consequence of getting that child killed.

Whereas Enji makes the same choice over and over again, ignoring Toya's clear troubles at the fact his father no longer spends time with him and choosing to run away to the world of heroes because he doesn't want to face the fact that his actions are severely hurting his son. Bruce's motivations are more sympathetic admittedly he wasn't actively practicing eugenics, but the choice is the same and the consequences are the same.

Both Bruce and Enji are forced to bear witness to the deaths of their children when they are not there, specifically because they made a choice to be a hero instead of staying by their child's side. A situation directly caused by their choice to be a hero over a father, and a situation that would have been avoided if they had stayed with their child in their time of need. Jason runs off when Batman tells him to stay and gets kidnapped by the Joker, if Enji had been on Sekoto peak that day Toya would never have accidentally lost control of his fire.

This is just the backstory however, the main event that kickstart this plot is the unexpected return from the dead of both Jason and Dabi. Each story follows the same plot beats. A new villain appears to challenge Endeavor / Batman. The villain reveals themselves as their dead son. Both Endeavor / Batman are given a chance to try reaching out to their sons, but they choose not to.

Then even though they are given a second chance with a miracle of a dead son coming back to them, they choose the exact same thing they chose before, being a hero and because of that the tragedy repeats itself. For both of them they are unable to save their son again, and the son goes through a second death. History repeats itself, the lesson isn't learned.

Their fatal flaw is their guilt. This is a story about grief and mourning after all, a son who is died, buried, but never grieved properly, never mourned, an open wound on the father suddenly coming back. The inability of each to process their grief blinds them from seeing the fact the son has come back, and they have a second chance.

Toya has internalized he is a failure, because Enji literally called him that. Jason believes that Batman thinks he is a failure. In both cases the father is the one who failed, Bruce at least acknowledges this but cannot communicate it in any way shape or form.

This guilt and responsibility both Enji and Bruce feel causes them to self-sabotage. They no longer have the confidence they are in the right (they no longer feel like heroes because they have failed to be heroes to their own son).

You can also add the layer of complication that since both men chose to be heroes in the past, they do not know how to handle the situation as a father now that they're being challenged to step up as one. Unfortunately, they are not the fathers that stepped up.

The reason their grief becomes a flaw is because they put their grief over their victims. . Each man is aware too much of their own failure, and while they should feel guilty they make the classic mistake of placing their own guilt over the feelings of the victim. The guilt they feel for causing the death and the genuine grief of losing a son is given priority over Jason and Dabi who you know... actually died.

An overwhelming grief and guilt is understandable because grief is a messy and human emotion, losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy that should never be inflicted on anyone.

Yet at the same time both Dabi and Jason are grieving to. This paradox that Batman only thinks of his own grief at losing a son and never stops to think about how Jason must feel leads to one of the best lines in Under the Red Hood.

"The father had lost a son, and now the son had lost a father."

Batman's guilt is so strong over being the cause of Jason's suffering, that the suffering of the victim himself is ignored. To be fair to My Hero Academia, the Todorokis say a similar line to Enji.

However, this is where I begin to get into the difference between ideas and execution. Tragedies are stories of actions and logical consequences, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in Under the Red Hood. Batman is punished for the choices he makes, the choices he doesn't make, and the choices he fails to make in time.

The Todoroki plotline features almost none of its character making any choices of substance, and because of that the plotline says the right things over and over again, but it all comes off as tell don't show.

I'm going to quote @codenamesazanka's post right here a couple of times because they describe the complete failure of the Todoroki plotline to show us a reason why we should be feeling things for the characters artfully.

We've heard Enji say this before - I'm sorry, I intend to atone. It's indeed the right thing to say, it's exactly what he should be saying and acting. Natsuo is declaring no contact - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. Touya calls him a coward - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. The public hates him - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. But you can only hear this so many times before you want to snap and beat the character, the story, the writing over the head with Enji's wheelchair. Why is that? He's behaving exactly as he should, and yet...

The reason why it fails to evoke strong feelings is because of what we'd called "narrative dissonance." The actions of Bruce and Enji are the same, they both neglect to do anything, make any real attempts to reach out to their victims because they're paralyzed by guilt.

However, we are told that they have entirely different arcs. Bruce's arc is a tragic fall. He's failing as a hero. While we are being told that Enji is experiencing an arc of atonement. Enji is supposed to be improving himself, and Bruce is supposed to be experiencing negative character development but they both do the exact same thing in story. Bruce neglects Jason, we are told by the story, by the characters in the story that Bruce is failing Jason. Enji does nothing in time to actually atone for Toya or try to help him, yet, we are told again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again that Enji is atoning with nothing substantive to show us this is the case.

To show what I meant instead of telling this scene is in chapter 252.

This scene is the ending point in chapter in chapter #426.

It's just him repeating the exact same sentiment and yet in a more than 150+ chapter gap, Enji never made any action to show he was now placing his family first. Enji didn't say anything to Dabi when he revealed himself as Toya. Enji didn't look for Toya in the months before the final war arc. Enji literally appeared on live TV in a broadcast that Toya was watching and said the very selfish "Watch Me" atone for the crime of creating Toya instead of literally talking about Toya or too Toya. Well, that would have rocked the boat too much... THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT. Enji had to somehow break from tradition or make some significant sacrifice onscreen to his social standing to show that he's willing to put his family first. Enji decides to go along with Hawks decision to not face Toya head on, making the decision to be the hero for the final time which directly causes Toya to get up after Shoto brings him down non-lethally and make one last attempt to suicide bomb for his father's inaction.

Bruce does nothing for a long time in Under the Red Hood. He ignores his initial instinct that Jason came back and instead makes a long investigation on whether or not someone can come back from the dead in order to distract himself. When Jason takes the mask off, Batman already knew but was pretending otherwise because he didn't want to face the reality.

Even when Jason takes his mask off, Bruce still takes on the "I need to investigate this" angle even though Jason calls him out that deep down he already knows it's the truth. This of course foreshadows Bruce's underlying flaw, he doesn't want to face Jason head on because he feels too much grief about what happened to Jason and his guilt is more important than Jason's own grief. Just as the father has lost the son, the son has lost the father.

What follows is several chapters of Batman fighting crime as usual and making no attempts to directly search for Jason. They cross paths a few times but when they do Bruce doesn't follow. In fact, Bruce only shows up when Jason sends Bruce a sample of the joker's hair and Bruce knows that the Joker has kidnapped him out of Arkham. Bruce almost lets Jason get killed by Black Mask because he doesn't know whether to stop Jason or save him yet again, and then they have their final showdown where Jason has kidnapped the joker to demand Bruce kill him, and Bruce finally attempts to talk him down.

Out of context it sounds like I'm describing the same plotline, to the point where if you haven't read either, it looks like I'm complaining baselessly. Why is one hero doing nothing until it's too late good, and the other bad? The difference is of course context, or rather framing. Bruce's actions are called out by the people around him (Dick, Jason, Alfred) as him handling the situation wrong. Whereas both Enji's internal monologue and other characters say that he is doing his best to atone for his actions and deserves a chance, but the events we are shown in story are the exact opposite.

Here's another example to SHOW my point. Here's Dabi with my special, hardcover edition of under the Red Hood.

I reread the entirety of the fourteen chapter plotline and the majority of internal narrations come from characters outside of Bruce observing his behavior and commenting on how differently he's acting. Jason's backstory for instance is told by Alfred, not Bruce. Dick Grayson the first Robin comments on Batman's odd behavior. The rest are the third person narrator. Bruce has four instances of internal monologues spanning a few pages each in a 378 page story. (Alfred has the most internal monologues and he's presented as a more trustworthy unbiased narrator than Bruce, to get us to question Bruce's actions).

"Information travels on many routes, sometimes it comes predictably like the tides. You just need to know where to stand and meet it. Other times it's elusive and you have to root through the garbage to find it. In the last few years I've come to rely on Barbara Gordon, Oracle, we all did. Utilizing every form of surveillance equipment she has been the eyes and ear [...] but those days are over. I can't rely on anyone anymore. [...] and tonight it's also about the company I keep. It's different with him [night wing] out here. I think about when he was younger, when I was younger, it was different, simpler and I miss it. I miss those days, for that it's hard to be around him.

This first internal monologue is a case of unreliable narrator, because as soon as finishing it Dick Grayson / Nightwing shows up, offers Batman his help and while Bruce at first refuses it the two of them are forced to work together to fight Amazo. What does this show us? Bruce is not alone, but Bruce actively acts like he's alone ignoring the feelings of the other people around him. It exhibits a flaw of Bruce and the bad headspace he is in mentally (if I remember correctly Stephanie Brown recently died in the comics while this storyline was being published. It establishes Bruce's improper coping mechanism with grief, and how he is going about it the incorrect way.

Bruce says I work alone, and then Bruce says it's easier working with Dick, I miss it, but I can't go back to those days. It's bruce's contradictory thinking patterns in the same chapter that stop him. it's bruce's fault he cannot connect to Dick, and he is actively mourning the past because his relationship with Dick has changed.

Now the final part of the monologue in that chapter.

He's quick. Not just fast, agile. He's not thinking about his next move, he's just making it. He's been trained well. And there's something about him. Something familiar. There was something interesting about before he cut the line, before it had been taught. That had to have been practiced. Either that or just plain dumb luck. No it's not luck.

This is the first hint that Bruce already suspects it's Jason from early on but is in denial about it. This unreliable narrator trope also gives an agency to Bruce's decision, he is actively choosing to ignore the possibility that it's Jason because it doesn't want it to be.

Whereas, a lot of Endeavor's plot takes away any agency from him. For example, he doesn't even know that Dabi is Toya, because if he had the sneaking suspicion and ignored it like Batman did that might have made him look bad. We can't have the main character in a tragedy looking bad now can we?

The second monologue is more denial.

That device is from Kord industries. I should know. Ordered it special from them. How can he have it? No more dead ends. No more questions. No more guessing. Tonight I find out what is passing for the truth.

Reading between the lines this is outright confirmation Batman already knows.

The third is a brief reflection in his feelings for Jason.

The armor has to be light enough to fit but strong enough to protect. But sometimes a great many times, it's not strong enough. It wans't strong enough for Barbara who has to fight from her chair. It wasn't strong enough for Stephanie, other dear soldier enough dear grave. And it wasn't enough for Jason. Willful Jason. Who ignored the danger. Who spat at risk. Who was never frightened enough. I've always wondered... always... was he scared at the end? Was he praying I'd come save him? And in those last moments when he knew that I wouldn't. Did he hate me for it?

This monologue directly shows without stating it outright, Bruce is prioritizing his feelings of grief and failure mixing them in with his genuine grief over the loss of a son. it's selfish of him, but grief is a selfish emotion.

Here's the thing Bruce is allowed to be selfish and to not have the correct reaction to his grief, because the whole story is centered on Bruce being unable to get his shit together in time, and this picture into his emotions is an explanation as to why. Bruce is afraid of being hated by Jason. Jason of course has every right to hate him for failing as a father, but still I think not wanting to be hated to a person you loved so much and feel genuinely sorry over what you let happen to them is an understandable reaction.

Meanwhile we have Enji saying repeatedly all the right things in his monologue, the selfless, I don't need to be forgiven, it's okay if they hate me, I just need to atone but he never actually does anything. There's no explanation for why he isn't doing anything either, so that narrative dissonance. We're shown why Bruce doesn't act in time, he's internally a mess to be frank. We are not shown why Enji doesn't act in time because his internal monologue tells us again and again he's committed to atoning and he understands what the right thing to do is.

As Codenamesanzanka says:

Enji is still saying all the right things, but the story isn't giving him the opportunity to actually do the right things. To have his new actions matter. I have no doubt about his sincerity in his mantra, but without the 'show', it's hollow. Similarly, "Let's talk" is actually kinda bullshit too, because it's so vague. This is less about Enji, and more about the writing, how it set up this scene. "Let's talk" or "I want to talk" or any of that variation is repeated 6 times, without anything more or specific added.

There's an excess of repetition of Enji saying he wants to atone, he's ready to atone, without any of that materializing in the story.

As @class1akids says in this reaction post:

It also feels also super-hollow to say he's sheltering the family from the fallout, after they've just talked about how Fuyumi lost her job (and got a new one through the connections she herself built). How is he going to do that?

The fourth because I don't want to write it down, it's just Batman monologueing on how his partnership with Jason is still good and explaining the technical details of his fight with count Vertigo. It's in chapter 10 if you must look it up.

So four monologues total. Two monologues establish indirectly that Batman knows that Red Hood is Jason and doesn't want to face him. The third monologue establishes why he doesn't want to face him, he's afraid of being hated. The monologue is in line with Bruce's actions in the story, Bruce investigates several ways of reviving from the dead instead of looking for Jason.

The character's reactions around Bruce are also talking about how he's not acting like himself. Especially Alfred's who speaks of Bruce's indecision, on whether to put a stop to or save Jason.

"It is curious. He is lost in thought. It is not like him to spend vast stretches of time immobile, where his mind is gripped in the solitary process of deduction. This is quite different. He is hesitating. At a loss for what to do. I believe it is about Jason. And whether or not to stop him or save him."

This is illustrated in two scenes later where Jason spends a long time simply watching when Jason is fighting enemies, first in a fight against Captain Nazi, and second Black Mask. Jason even gives a direct callout of that behavior.

Jason: What the hell took you so long? Couldn't decide if you wanted to let me live. Batman: Shut up and fight.

Observed by Alfred Bruce is completely stalling and can't choose, observed by Jason Bruce can't decide whether to let Jason live or not. Bruce hesitates twice. We know why. We see it in action. It's called out as flawed behavior.

Now let's cover all the tell that don't show that is Endeavor's many monologues.

Pro Hero Arc:

I have to safeguard the future for them. That's the job for whoever's on top. What about the lives I cut short? Just demanding forgiveness isn't enough, it's too late for that. At this point I need to atone there's no other route.

Hellish Todoroki Family 1:

I'm trying to make ammends going forward. It might be too late. but I fall asleep every night thinking about it. Lately it's been the same dream. The wife and the kids looking happy at the dinner table. But I'm never there with them. It might be too late but I fall asleep every night thinking about what I can do for my family. I wish you could be here too, Toya. It's always the same dream. My whole family's there but not me. If I really care how they feel [I'll remain here].

I'm not going to read 200 chapters so I'm just going to ballpark it based on memory. Here we go.

Dabi's Dance:

My eldest, Toya didn't harbor frost within him. He didn't have a way to overcome the inescapable downside of overheating but I nevertheless sought to raise the boy as a hero. [...] Because Toya had more potential than me I placed my ambitions on his shoulders. I thought it could be you. You could have been the one to reach my eternal goal. My frustration... My envy... The ugliness in my heart... you could have been the one to smash it all to dust.

Plot twist this is the only monologue I like. It's different from all the others, and it's the only one where Enji is being emotionally honest. He put the emotional burden of his own emotional insecurities on an eight year old child, and expected to live vicariously through him and when Toya failed to live up to those expectations he just abandoned him. It alligns what we have been shown so far, Enji is not acting like a reptentant man here who realizes the harm he's done to Toya and only thinks of Toya as an extension of himself and his own regrets.

The Fight Against AFO:

My mistakes took the form as Toya leading to many stolen futures. The past never dies. Rage, resentment and even penace wound together toward the future. And the future is a path for the young. A path with so many branching choices. That's why I must win this. [I'll keep paying my penance. I'll win today and keep my eyes on Toya.]

When Enji decides to double Suicide with Toya:

I take full responsibility. I swore to bear the burden and live my life atoning for it all. However, you've been watching me all this time. While I couldn't be there to watch you. You were someone I especially needed to do right by. No I can't let you meet your end alone, but I won't let anyone else get caught up in our tragedy.

Hellish Todoroki Family Final:

I came to talk about what's to come. I'm retiring as a hero. That was my initial plan even before the war started, but now I can't even walk on my own. The hero endeavor burned to death. Your flames were really stronger than mine. [...] You're right. You know everything about me, Toya. After all you were always watching me. And you wanted me to do the same for you, but I didn't. Not matter what anyone says your heat does come from my hellflame. From now on I'll come everyday, so let's talk. It's too late now, so let's talk. [...] You're free to hate me. Anything is fine really, so throw it all at me.

This one is spoken dialogue but it's still a four-page long monologue. Every one of Enji's monologues with one exceptionsays the same thing: I'm sorry, I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions.

We're repeatedly told Enji is atoning but he acts like Batman. Then, his actions should be framed as Batman, not atoning but avoiding any responsibility.

As observed by Class1akids when we were discussing the update:

Everyone else faces an uphill struggle with their lives, but we should all feel sorry for Enji atoning and being in hell. I hate Hori's compulsion to over-write his abusers and over-explain their atonement. He does this with Bakugou too but with Enji it's more irritating. It was so much more enjoyable when he just wrote the thing but didn't point at them and say -> look, they are atoning. Aren't they soooo cool??

Enji's internal monologues and the other characters frame him as some sort of martyr, while on the other hand it's clear by both Batman's actions and Alfred's observations he's not acting like his usual self. In fact, this is an interpretation of Under the Red Hood that I love from the writers of the video game Arkham Knight that does a less tragic retelling of Under the Red Hood:

Batman doesn't fight victims. He saves them.

Therefore if Batman is fighting Jason, a victim, he's not acting like Batman. I'm also fine with Arkham Knight being an Under the Red Hood retelling because it's a different story. Comics do this all the time, different universe versions, popular storylines adapted into different mediums. It also works as a commentary on the original story, by showing what Batman could have done to lead to a more positive outcome it makes Batman's choices in Under the Red Hood worse and more tragic because he could have saved Jason, there was still a chance.

So here we have two flawed tragic heroes who are meant to be both pitied and condemned for their actions. One of them is all pity with no condemnation. The other is both pity and condemnation, Batman is grieving, but also he's failing his responsibility towards Jason. Therefore one protagonist works, the other fails utterly.

I'm not saying abusers don't deserve redemption. I'm not saying Enji should have died in order to atone. I'm not saying that the underlying problem with the arc is that they decided to make Enji sympathetic and a focus of the arc. The most important problem is the breaking of one of the fundamental rules of storytelling: Show, Don't Tell.

The Tragic Villain

Not only does The Hellish Todoroki Family plotline fail to make Enji a compelling protagonist, it also fails it's biggest victim. Now, these are both stories that end with the hero failing to save their victim. So if both of these stories have the same ending, why am I saying it failed Dabi, but not Jason?

Well, let me explain.

Dabi and Jason are both villains turned victims. The stories themselves are about this ambiguity. How much should the be held responsible for their own choices? If they are actively harming innocent people, then shouldn't they be stopped? Should they be automatically be forgiven just because of the pain and grief they've suffered, even if they've been causing it to others?

Both characters are also reflective of their fathers because they are too being selfish in their grief, they want their grief acknowledged and so are violently lashing out.

Jason and Dabi both make plays at being vigilantes at first, Dabi wants to inherit Stains will, and Jason Todd wants to be a better bat-man by taking control of the drug trade in Gotham and cutting crime down by executing gang heads. However, neither of them are being honest with this and it's shown through their actions, both of them abandon their original plans.

In the final showdown all Toya cares about is facing Enji on the battlefield, and when he's on the brink of death his mind erodes to the point where all he can do is scream for Enji's attention while his flames get hotter and hotter.

Let's take about Jason first and how his narrative treats him a whole lot better and more sympathetically, with more humanity than Batman. Jason is still held responsible for his choices, he is criticized by Bruce for murdering gang leaders and passing it off as justice. He's also blatantly shown to be a hypocrite. My favorite scene from Red Hood: Lost Days, the official UTRH prequel.

"I want to kill the joker in a cool way. Just sniping the Joker from a rooftop isn't dramatic enough for me."

This scene, and the final scene of UTRH underlines Jason isn't executing criminals because he believes it's the right thing to do, or because of his stated motivation that killing the joker would prevent more future victims.

Instead his every action is to set up a scenario where he makes a selfish demand of Bruce. He wants Bruce to prove to him that he would choose him over being a hero, by setting up his final scenario. Him, the Joker, and Batman. Jason will shoot the Joker. Bruce has a gun. He can either choose to let Jason kill the Joker, or kill Jason to stop him, either way it makes it clear what Bruce's priorities are.

The underlying reason for this is similiar to Bruce. Just like Bruce, Jason is deeply afraid that Batman doesn't love him. That he thinks of him as a failure. (This is Toya's main reason too).

He also interprets Bruce's failure to avenge him to mean that Bruce didn't even care enough to mourn him. If Bruce loved him enough, he'd choose him over the joker, but he's so afraid that Bruce doesn't love him enough that he's going to force Bruce to choose.

Along the way he's also going to behead several crimelords in order to put an exclamation point on that point.

The way Jason completely unravels in the confrontation shows this insecurity, he begins with monologueing about how batman should totally kill people, until his fear that he wasn't important enough, and his grief at losing his father is revealed.

Batman: I know I failed you, but I tried to save you. I'm trying to save you now. Jason: Is that what what you think this is about? Your letting me die. I don't know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. Jason: But why on god's green earth is he still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the whole graveyards he's filled with people. The friend's he's killed. I thought killing me - that I'd be the last person you ever let him hurt. Jason: If it had been you that he beat to a bloody mess. If it had been you he left in agony. If he had taken you from this world. I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, this death worshipping garbage, and sent him off to hell.

Direct statement, it's irresponsible of Bruce to let Joker live after killing Jason and should have put him down to prevent future victims. Reading between the lines, Batman not taking revenge for Jason is a sign that he didn't love him enough, Jason loves Batman more because he would have taken revenge.

As the confrontation continues and Jason's mental spiral worsens, to the point where he can't keep up his pretense of self-righteousness.

Jason: I'm not talking about killing cobblepot, or scarecrow, or riddled, or dent. Jason: I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because...he took me away from you.

The father had lost the son, and now the son had lost the father.

Jason's revenge is just a cover, for his grief at losing Bruce. I think this also shows a really positive aspect of Jason's character to humanize him instead of condemning him for his actions to ignore or even justify the suffering he endured: Jason really loves Bruce.

I mean how meaningful is the statement: "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Bruce has been afraid to hear the whole time that Jason hates him, that he won't forgive him, but Jason loves him deeply. In fact his love is almost equal to his rage because Jason is a deeply emotional person, and these little details make him human and not just like a plot obstacle that Bruce has to face. A metaphor for his past failures.

Dabi is drawn as a crying boy who wants comfort, Jason is shown to be a crying boy who wants comfort through both dialogue and action without us directly needing to be told. It's a heartbreaking line and doing it because he took me away from you and it lands perfectly because the narrative wants us to just look at Jason's grief. It doesn't add an asterisk* even though he was in pain, he's done unforgivable things that can't be justified to undercut Jason's suffering.

In fact that might be another underlying problem with The Hellish Todoroki Family, the narrative tries too hard to make you feel a certain way instead of just presenting things as they are to make you come to your own conclusion. UTRH doesn't support Jason's revenge based serial killing of villains. It doesn't say he's justified to cut off the heads of mobsters. However, it doesn't excessively state "Well, I'm really sorry what happened to you but what you've done can't be forgiven" so we don't have to challenge ourselves to feel too much empathy for Jason's suffering.

Meanwhile even when Toya tries to express his rightful anger and grief, we're always met with someone shutting him down and saying well yeah, but you're wrong, involving innocent people is unforgivable.

As said by @stillness-in-green in the replies to this post:

I think so much harm (in-universe, but the state of the Twitter fandom makes me think the messages are pretty toxic irl, too) comes out of portraying the Heroes as needing to weigh in on the *morality* of the Villains' actions before they gauge "saving" them, when that is not a thing that glorified cops have any business thinking they have the right to do. Demanding repentance before the rehab is so bizarre.

You can say someone's actions are wrong without using it as a factor to consider whether or not their suffering as a human being should be acknowledged, and like I said there's multiple instances of people just yelling at Toya how immoral he is instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong.

(Okay, I understand that some people have interpreted this as a show of Honnae and Tatamae, the Todoroki's who are a very repressed household are finally talking about their feelings even if those feelings are selfish and ugly).

(I'm not criticizing Shoto for saying that the people he killed were his own choice necessarily, Shoto is a character who's actions need to be read more deeply than his words he was dedicated to bringing Dabi down without him burning himself any further start to finished. My criticism lies in the fact that Hori uses Shoto as a mouth piece because he thinks we need to be reminded that murder is bad).

However, even acknowledging that time and place man, time and place. They couldn't have done that in the aftermath, when Toya isn't burning to death?

Hey buddy, you're being selfish.

Toya: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING.

This is I feel the underlying problem with the way the arc is written, not because the Todorokis are a very traditional Japanese family and there are cultural reasons they express their emotions differently, I'll give a caveat to that it's a nuance I might not understand.

However, I am arguing the actual problem is tell don't show. Horikoshi thinks that we as an audience need to be told multiple times that murder is bad, and we cannot be trusted to interpret that on our own.

Under the Red Hood shows both sides of Batman and Jason's debate, and let's us just come to the conclusion that Jason is in the wrong because revenge isn't justice. Horikoshi reaches no shit sherlock levels of telling us that we're not supposed to approve of Dabi's murders.

it's also a matter of giving Dabi narrative space to express his feelings, like every time Dabi tries to talk he is continually shut down (Shoto does engage Dabi talk to him and listen to why he didn't come back though I'll give him that) and it seems to be to push forward this weird idea that you shouldn't sympathize with the pain Dabi has endured or the ways he's dehumanized unless he does something to prove he deserves to be treated like a human being first.

Jason gets to monologue and make an entire argument, and his argument also shows the depths of his love for Bruce and what a deeply feeling person he is, and how those feelings being hurt and twisted could logically lead to his lashing out.

Compare this to Dabi who doesn't get a final monologue, but is instead reduced to a completely mindless state where he just cries out for his dad's attention. He doesn't get to make his argument.

Jason and Dabi both choose to blow themselves up, but Jason gets enough character agency to show this is a deliberate choice he's making even if it's the wrong one. He retains his character agency and ability to make decisions until the end of the narrative.

Jason's also you know physically crying. The end result of the narrative is about wrong choices that both Bruce and Jason make together, and then suffer the consequences together. Bruce watches the same failure play out again and he isn't able to save Jason, Jason doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't get revenge and he doesn't get to reunite with his father. It's tragic for both of them, and brought about by decisions both of them made.

Whereas yes Dabi makes a lot of bad decisions leading up to the last war arc, but in the end his final fate is up to a choice Enji made to not face Toya in the final battle.

However, while the final consequence of the battle is brought about more by Enji's decisions than Toya's, it's Toya who endures all the suffering and punishment. It's Toya who is in an iron coffin, and doomed to slowly and agonizingly die with all of his skin burnt off unable to move. Toya doesn't even get agency after the arc is over. Enji still has a wheelchair, Enji can still move around, Enji's still fucking rich, he's not in prison for his actions, he as Rei wheeling him around.

Toya's agency and choices are all taken from him, presumably to serve the plot purpose of making Enji save him to finish off his arc, and then ENJI DOESN'T EVEN SAVE HIM.

Also I think it's important to mention, Bruce's tragic ending is brought about by him attempting to save both, trying to save the joker and Jason with the same action. Whereas Enji's tragic ending is brought about by Enji NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP. Yet, it's Dabi who has the lion's share of suffering, and is sentenced to this horrific state of being skinless in an iron coffin and only being able to be awake a few minutes a day with no choice but to waste away.

Bruce is also immediately called out for his actions, by the Joker of all people, you handled this all wrong, it's your fault. Bruce is right to not kill the joker, killing the Joker would not have solved any of Jason's problems, but the fact that he put off facing Jason for so long, and his inability to communicate that he loves Jason is what leads to Jason thinking that the only way to prove Bruce loves him is to force him to choose. It's because Bruce has utterly failed to show him in any other way that he is loved.

Joker: Oh my god, I love it! You manage to find a way to win, and everyone still loses. I'm going to be the one who gets what he wants tonight, badda bing, badda boom."

I'd also like to add that a lot of agency in Enji's actions are taken away too, to make him look more blameless. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't say anything to Dabi during Dabi's dance, he passed out because he had a punctured lung. It's not Enji's fault that he spent a month protecting Deku instead of searching for Toya, he had to protect innocent people. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't go immediately to face Toya in the final war arc Hawks told him not to.

It's not Enji's fault that he made Shoto and Toya fight like Pokemon instead of cleaning up his own mess, and also he feels really sorry for it and as soon as he's done punching the bad guy he'll look after Toya he promises.

Enji does get called out for this behavior but it falls flat because it only comes from the villain AFO, and Toya himself. As I stated above too, the ending is more influenced by Enji's actions not Toya's (because Toya's agency is stripped away until he's mindless) but Toya is the one who has to die while Enji gets to live and atone.

That is the real sticking point for The Hellish Todoroki Family, the way it ends.

Themes Are For Eight Graders

The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.

The above quote is from an interview with the writers of the widely hated Game of Thrones Season 8, which took a sudden tragic turn for Dany's character, gave her an incredibly dehumanizing ending of being put down like a rabid dog by her own lover, an ending that was neither foreshadowed nor did it match with anything written before.

In this meta here by @hamliet it goes far more into depth that Game of Thrones isn't a tragedy, but a piece of Romantic fiction (not a love story, Romanticism is a genre of big emotions, the beauty of life, larger than life ideas hence why it fits well with fantasy genre, it can be sad but it doesn't follow tragic structure).

Dany is a romantic heroine, a deconstruction of the idea of the classic warrior princess trope, and you know a colonizer, but she's not meant to be written as an inherently bad person. There are people who say that Dany was going to die in the original books. I'm one of those people. Me. However, context and framing matters, Dany for all her colonizing ways does genuinely want to do the right thing, so it's likely she'd die a heroic death as a reflection of her selfless intentions (and intentions do matter for fictional characters) whereas in the show she's put down as a villain.

Now watch me I'm going to coin a term for future literary critics to use: Narrative Gaslighting.

Narrative gaslighting is different then Show Don't Tell, where an author has just failed to properly show what they're trying to tell you in the story. Narrative Gaslighting is when a narrative deliberately tries to mislead you, straight up lies to you, or just insists things that did not happen totally happened guys. Much like real gaslighting, Narrative Gaslighting makes you feel stupid for interpreting things a certain way and insists you were wrong all along.

Narrative gaslighting is when Tyrian gives a speech that everyone should have suspected Dany when she burned slavers alive that she was secretly evil and would one day turn on them.

Like, no.

Dany is flawed because she is a foreigner, interfering with the politics of a different country that she does not understand in order to gain enough resources and men to return to her home country and invade that country to exercise her right as a Targeryn to uphold the divine right of kings.

Game of Thrones doesn't mention any of that shit that's in alignment with the previous actions in the story, it's just insisting the very ableist notion that Dany was insane all along and her violence towards other people is the result of her mental illness.

(Also before anyone says, so if she's a colonizer than how can she have good intentions, everyone is Bad in Game of Thrones, they're all waging war to vie for a throne, monarchy is bad guys. IDK how to tell you that Game of Thrones has gray on gray on gray on gray morality).

(Also this aside ties into the hangup of MHA and most popular fandom culture on Twitter, that Dany's moral failings somehow disqualify her from her humanity. In spite of the fact that on top of all of that she's a rape victim, and like, Dany's only on that continent in the first place because she was sold as a bride.)

But here's the same weird subtext that Horikoshi's writing of Dabi. The fact that Dabi was continually victimized and denied human dignity does not need to be addressed, because he did the bad things and didn't atone properly enough for it first.

In essence this random post on the gunnerkrigg court forums I found on the same day the chapter came out, displaying apollo's gift of prophecy.

"When someone is persecuted, it's important to inform everyone about their flaws. That way you don't have to feel anything about all the times that they were denied human dignity."

So, Dany is not written as a tragic hero but a romantic one, we as an audience are both meant to acknowledge her flaws and sympathize with her, not demonize her in an ableist way for being insane, and even if Dany is meant to die the tragic way she dies does not match up with all of the narrative foreshadowing that was built before that.

Like, for instance a lot of POC after the show ended kept telling everyone that Dany's actions in a foreign country were seriously problematic, and not only did the audience not listen but the showwiters didn't acknowledge it with the same subtlety as the books. So those people especially were able to pick up Dany's character flaws, and when the show finally acknowledged them it's not even in the way that critiques of the show were pointing out Dany's flaws it was just "she was insane all along." Not like taking time to go "no matter what the intention, interfering with the politics of a foreign country is wrong."

The problem with the Todoroki arc is essentially the same, down to the ableism (because outsiders continually call Dabi either a maniac or insane Demon without even giving credence to his grievances about hero society he's just reduced to an insane fringe element of society, and Dabi himself is reduced to a completely mindless, childish, insane screaming state where he can't make active decisions).

The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.

Everyone happy at the Dinner table and Enji not sitting with them.

"I wish you could be here, Toya."

"We all have to go stop, Toya."

"In that case, I'll make him sit down for a bowl with me."

Even Shoto's efforts to take down Toya non-lethally are rendered completely pointless, because Toya gets back up again and then burns himself alive (completely by his own choice so no one has to feel bad that they failed).

The story sets up the expectation that Toya is going to be brought home and sit down for a meal with his family. Then it makes you feel stupid for going in an entirely different direction. It was always going to end this way didn't you know The Todorokis are a tragedy?

Well, I just spent a very long section of this thesis statement illustrating that if it's supposed to be a tragedy, then it's still not written well.

It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved, only for the villain not to be saved and the story to just keep on going like not getting saved isn't a huge failure. This is something that should permanently destroy the main characters, that they got the chance to repeat Sekoto peak and be there this time and they all utterly failed. I feel bad for Shoto most of all because he did everything right, and he still loses his brother, but does the story show that?

The problem is the story is blatantly lying to you about the fact that Toya was somehow saved, even though he LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HELLRAISER. To quote Codenamesanzanka again:

But I feel the story couldn't give us that because it will remind the reader and everyone just how much Touya will be missing. In-story, talking any more will overburden Touya's heart - and how apt is that metaphor? So let's talk about how we'll talk, but that's all that's allowed here for this scene. Else we'll see how unfair it is that Touya has to be confined to this room, he isn't with his family and they have to come to this prison just to tell him about their day, and soon he will be gone. Details make it real, and it would've exposed the lie that Touya was saved in an actual way. The story knows it too - "this extra time Shouto gave us." This is all 'extra', and not the core. [...] If the story was sincere that this is a case of "it's simply too late" - as it should be!!! imo, to really drive in the clear point that they failed, they did not get the save they wanted, because that's the truth - the tone of the chapter isn't tragic enough for that. The tone is going for 'Making Peace With This'. We've skipped the stages of grief and all we have is acceptance. The characters have accepted this, and so must the readers as well.

Therefore it's narrative gaslighting, the story is making us doubt our perceptions and trying instead to manipulate us to feel a certain way. We don't have to question the unfairness of Toya's fate, because look at all the people he's hurt, and look how Enji is atoning and taking responsibility.

The story builds up the idea that Enji will choose Toya. That he will choose being a father over being a hero. Enji doesn't do that, and it's Toya who suffers the horrific, painful consequences while Enji gets off mostly scott free. Mind you it's also ableist to suggest that being in a wheelchair is some sort of life-ending consequence like he's fine. The story even goes out of its way to say how avoidable this ending could have been if Enji or Rei or someone lifted a single finger to give Toya the acknowledgement he wanted, and then gives it a "Too little, Too Late" conclusion but doesn't acknowledge that this is where it's ending and instead tells us that Enji has successfully atoned.

"Everyone's watching me. So this is what it's like. If it was such a simple thing, then why not sooner?"

If it was going to turn out this way Toya should have just died here, not because death would somehow be a mercy compared to life in prison, but because the Todoroki Family doesn't deserve to get to pat themselves on the back. If they let Sekoto Peak happen a second time, then they should have to deal with the consequences of that.

It would be consistent is my point. This is written as a "Too Little, Too Late" kind of ending, but we don't get the emotional response from the Todorokis that they've let Toya die a second time.

On the other hand, UTRH has the exact same tragic ending but it doesn't make me angry because it's honest about it. The Todorokis let Sekoto peak happen a second time. Batman let Death in the Family happen a second time, but look at how even the narration and comic panels of the story acknowledge it.

"Fate is a funny thing. It swells up like a raging current and we are forced to travel. It provides us no exit. No deviation. It drops us in a bottomless ocean and compels us. We either swim, or drown, and sometimes as we struggle against the tide, a great truth arises."

One ends with Enji meaninglessly stating that he'll spend the rest of his life atoning for Toya and watching over him (which I guess will be like two months tops) for the fifth time. The other ends with Batman being lectured by the Joker of all people of how he chose wrong and being forced to watch once again as a warehouse blows up, and he's completely helpless to save Jason.

UTRH ends with the message that Batman sucks, Enji's atonement arc ends with Natsuo calling him cool for atoning and UTRH makes me like Batman way more as a character. Whereas at this point I feel nothing from the Todoroki Family, except for a disgust for the way that Toya not only has to die, but has to die a slow, gruesome death while the rest of his family walks away with the small comfort of "oh at least we'll get to say what we need to say before Toya passes."

Especially with the fact that Toya's greatest fear was that when he died, he died meaninglessly because his family never grieved him and all moved on with their life. I guess we don't have to analyze how gross the underlying message that criminals don't deserve to be sympathized with because themes are for eighth graders.

EPILOGUE

The post is finished but apparently everyone expects me to cover every single possible angle even in posts this long.

You didn't address the cultural aspect. Under the Red Hood is a western story, and Todoroki Family is based on eastern concepts.

The post isn't about that. The post is long enough I can't cover every single topic. Here's someone who covered that topic thoroughly. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism.

Also, since the Todoroki Family obviously copied Under the Red Hood's homework, it warrants a comparison. Especially since it seems to critically misunderstand what made the original work.

Which is a valid form of Literary Criticism, as Ursula K Le Guinn once said:

 It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.

The Todorkis aren't all to blame for Toya. Natsu, Fuyumi and Shoto are innocent:

You're right. It's just easier to refer them as the Todorokis then specifying "Enji and Rei" each time.

You didn't mention Shoto once in this post:

I have no cricism for Shoto's role in all this. In fact I think he's the best written part. I praise it here.

Shoto is a good boy, and he deserved to spend more time with his brother. The fact he won't be able to sit down and have dinner of him, is the greatest tragedy of them all.

[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK, 

❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!

It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.  

It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds. 

These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily. 

However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all. 

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people. 

At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar. 

This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite. 

The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple. 

Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place. 

She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena. 

Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world. 

No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks. 

Monsters are misunderstood. 

The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister. 

The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again. 

Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being. 

The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there. 

Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!

You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable. 

Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon. 

On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you. 

Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around. 

Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.

“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question. 

“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you. 

“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos. 

Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong. 

“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless. 

Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed. 

Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him. 

His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way. 

“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands. 

“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth. 

“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.

“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life. 

“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it. 

With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on. 

“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy. 

“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope. 

He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide. 

Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling. 

The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).” 

You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit. 

“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand. 

“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything. 

In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak. 

You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself. 

So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek. 

“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to. 

Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed. 

Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap. 

The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble. 

Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible. 

“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp. 

The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.

Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you. 

Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body. 

“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister. 

“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.

Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become. 

“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?” 

Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…

“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.

“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks. 

“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek. 

~~~~~~~

The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to. 

Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave. 

“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you. 

“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you. 

“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment. 

“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless. 

“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.” 

“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.” 

Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following. 

A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host. 

The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you. 

As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice. 

But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision. 

The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold. 

“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap. 

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear. 

“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her. 

Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out. 

“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?” 

The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod. 

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer. 

Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.” 

“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger. 

“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?” 

You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first. 

“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.” 

You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.

Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…” 

Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you. 

“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well. 

Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question. 

“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her. 

“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it. 

You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand. 

“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay. 

Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.” 

Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye. 

You didn’t turn to stone…

“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back. 

“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head. 

“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?” 

Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”

Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”

Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again. 

“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body. 

“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest. 

“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”

~~~~~~~

As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would. 

It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda. 

“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.” 

Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her. 

“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.” 

Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you. 

“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight. 

“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.” 

Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.

As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly. 

From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest. 

She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her. 

The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else. 

Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were. 

“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access. 

“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form. 

“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her. 

Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”

Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles. 

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command. 

Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.

Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes. 

“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy. 

“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress. 

“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple. 

You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth. 

As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly. 

Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss. 

“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,” 

Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move. 

“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again. 

~~~~~~~

It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep. 

“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,” 

That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place. 

“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think. 

“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.” 

[mini-ism]

courtship— 07 KINKTOBER ‘23

words: 815

synopsis: zhongli accepts your proposal, your innocence for a chance to be his spouse.

warnings: mdni!! virginity (reader), taking of virginity, monsterfucking, dragon form, courting, porn with some plot, mentions of marriage, gender neutral reader

zhongli loomed over you menacingly. his shoulders squared and broad, his eyes focused, glowing with sheer strength. you could hear his tail smack the floor a couple times.

your proposal was hard to deny, especially when you were in front of him, your most tender form of all— stripped bare and belly exposed. it was difficult not to think of you as prey, ready and eager to be consumed.

you begged and you pleaded for this chance, you knew the man would soon be courted once more, perhaps by a person lovelier than yourself. you merrily offered zhongli your innocence for a chance to become his spouse, nodding your head along joyfully, willfully dismissing his warnings.

yet there he stood, his gaze focused on you, your legs brought up to your chest, knees bent. you anticipated the answer of his body, the response to your bare form. it tingled and brewed within you, every second heightening your senses, the feeling of eagerness lingering in the air.

with a quick, experienced movement, zhongli pushed himself against you, his thick, large cock pressing against your entrance. awkwardly, you craned your neck to look at his body. his cock was unlike anything you could have imagined. it was big and lengthy, with a knot at the base, and his tip was an inhuman blackish color.

you watched as he tentatively moved his hips to yours, his cock poking and prodding at your hole, eliciting a whine from your lips.

you could feel the round, yet pointed, tip gain entry within you, stretching your hole ever so slightly to allow zhongli inside of you. a loud, breathy mewl left you, the stretching of your entrance and now your walls causing you to whine in pain.

“i warned you.” he said, your mind blurring while he moved in and out of you slowly, losing more of his length inside of you. he put his hands on your hips, thrusting inwards sharply, then pulling out almost all the way, only to fuck into you harder again. he continued this until most of his cock was in you, which took longer than we would have liked.

moans spilled from your mouth, feeling the girth of his dick stretch you out to your limits. the pain slowly ebbed into deep pleasure. you reached for his horns, which he allowed you to hold onto. zhongli kept his slow, yet agonizing pace, his cock dragging in and out of your tight hole. he knew he was in control.

tightening your grip, zhongli drew in a sharp inhale, your thumbs riding on the ridges of the sharp dragon horns atop his head, nestled in his dark brown hair. zhongli’s pace quickened drastically without warning, his hands still planted on your hips. his determined eyes were squinted, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“do you like it? do you like this?” you asked.

“do not ask me such… dumb questions,” he replied, remaining silent for a while, “…yes, i enjoy this.”

you half giggled and half moaned in response. pleasure was building within both of you, and moans were slipping from both of you. mostly you, really. zhongli’s darkened hands moved from your hips to the underside of your thighs. your body was continuously and relentlessly bullied by zhongli’s fat cock, your tight hole straining from his size.

heat pooled in your gut, the sense of trust relaxing your muscles as he carefully, yet ruthlessly, fucked you. zhongli’s tail continued to swish and smack against the floor, nearly wagging uncontrollably as he chased his own high.

“are you close?” he panted.

you nodded, tears stinging your eyes, you could hear skin against skin, and the smell of sex hung in the air. he looked so handsome on top of you, drilling you full of his cock, his hair messier than usual, and his clothes slightly undone. you hoped he’d pick you after this, how he’d pick you to fuck again. to marry. to make you submit to him.

“good.”

the intensity of his thrusts jumped, your hands grabbing at his horns tightly, your hole clenching with his every movement. his grip tightened on your plush, warm thighs, ramming into you as fast as he fucking could.

“ah, ah, i’ll come soon. mmh,” zhongli could only muster as much of a warning as that before you came. your body tightened and you moaned loudly, your hips bucking wildly, hole tight as a vice around his cock. a sense of heavy relief and intense pleasure washed over you, your brain foggy and thoughts awry.

“zhongli, i- mmgh! oh, oh, fuck… fuuuuck…”

you watched as zhongli fucked into you one last time, pulling out as seed spilled onto your tummy, thick white globs leaking from his pointed tip. he looked at you determinedly, ready to pursue you deeper than this fuck.

and when the day came, the dragon approached you.

[yanderestarangel]

A/N:That's a really hot request! I love writing gang!bang x reader, sorry if it's a little bad, I did my best, sorry if it was too long too - thanks for the request<3

| PS: The nominations for each 'Bi Han' are: 'OG!Bi Han' - bi han from the reader's 'original' timeline, 'Titan!Bi Han' - bi han from the alternative timeline who appears at the end of the game helping liu kang in some endings, 'Dark!Bi Han' - fully corrupted bi han and also from an alternate reality. |

 TW: v!sex, handjob,oral (f!re), double!blowjob, cum!play, face!fuck, they/them used, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, gang bang, sub reader, aggressive sex, praise, degradation, dumbfication, afab anatomy, titan!bi han,og!bi han, dark!bi han x reader , sub!reader, smut, nsfw, little plot in final cut.

⸺ It would be an understatement to say that you weren't surprised when you saw your boyfriend take two people to your house, but they weren't two strangers... They were versions of himself. He introduced you to 'Titan Bi Han' a wiser, calmer and softer version of him, he was the same as your companion... But as if all the qualities were gathered only in him, without the 'rotten' part that the grandmaster had - and Soon after, it was the turn of 'Dark Bi Han', the totally corrupted version of him, however, there was still something that shone there, something that only you knew.

You didn't question at first what everyone was doing there, after all, you trusted your boyfriend, but you soon realized that it wasn't just a (a) normal visit... By the way each look devoured you... After all, Bi Han was a man jealous, but it was okay to share your partner, if you with other versions of himself... Right? You tried to protest a little... Telling your boyfriend - 'OG!Bi Han' that it was too much to have three men in your body at once, but they soon reassured you... Well, not all of them.

⸺ OG!Bi Han smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he approached you. "-Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow and make sure you're comfortable every step of the way," he said, his voice low and seductive. Titan!Bi Han nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "-Yes, we want you to enjoy every moment, darling. We'll make sure to please you in ways you've never imagined," he murmured, his fingers gently tracing your arm.

Dark!Bi Han, on the other hand, wore a wicked grin as he closed the distance between you. His touch was rough, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head back. "-I don't care about your comfort, little one. I want to ravish you, use you for my pleasure," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. The contrast between the three versions of your boyfriend heightened the anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins.

OG!Bi Han leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. "-We'll start with something simple doll face," he whispered, his voice dripping with anticipation. His hands wandered, one slipping beneath your shirt to caress your breasts, while the other trailed down to tease the sensitive skin at the hem of your pants.

Titan! Han's touch was tender as he pressed himself against your back, his hands trailing along your curves. He nibbled on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "-I want to explore every inch of your body, my love. To worship you and make you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with adoration for you.

Dark!Bi Han's touch was possessive and demanding, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his body against yours. "-You're mine to use, to fuck, little thing.." he growled, his breath hot against your neck. His lips traveled down, leaving a trail of cold kisses along your collarbone - They took their time, savoring every moment, as they brought you closer to the edge of pleasure with their skilled touches and sinful whispers. You were surrounded by a whirlwind of desire, lost in a sea of pleasure that only intensified with each passing second - As the intensity built, OG!Bi Han took the lead, guiding you to the bed, he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gently parting your folds as he leaned in to taste you. His tongue flicked against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body his lips closed around your sensitive bud, sucking and teasing it with expert precision.

Meanwhile, Dark!Bi Han held his throbbing cock in front of your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided himself between your lips. His length filled your mouth, stretching you as you eagerly took him in. Your tongue swirled around him, tasting his salty essence as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each rhythmic movement. Dark!Bi Han groaned with satisfaction, his hips rocking gently against your mouth. "-I've missed you more than words can express... And I'm going to fuck you until you're completely ruined, completely mine." - You hadn't understood his comment... yet. You decided to focus on pleasure, even though that phrase was playing in your mind, you tried to read the ghostly eyes of that corrupted version of your partner, but you found nothing but longing and lust.

Titan!Bi Han, not wanting to be left out, positioned himself next to you, his hand wrapping around his erect shaft. He moaned softly as you took control, your fingers gliding along his length, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild. You could feel the heat radiating from his cock, the pre-cum slick against your fingertips as you stroked him, matching the pace of your mouth on Dark!Bi Han. "-Fuck..mmpmh- you're so pretty- yes... Just like that baby" OG!Bi Han increased the pressure of his tongue against your clit, his movements becoming more urgent and deliberate. Dark!Bi Han groaned, his hips thrusting into your mouth as he neared his climax. Titan!Bi Han's grip tightened around your hand, "-Yes fuck- I'm going to cum, keep those pretty little hands around my dick... fuck you're so good at this my bunny..."

And then, in a glorious crescendo, pleasure washed over all of you. Your body convulsed with ecstasy as your orgasm crashed through you, waves of lust radiating from your core. Dark!Bi Han released his load into your mouth, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum. Titan!Bi Han's cock pulsed in your hand, warm cum spilling over your fingers. And OG!Bi Han continued to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging the pleasure until you were left breathless and spent. "-This isn't over yet doll..." He wasted no time in taking you on all fours, positioning himself behind you. Your body quivered with anticipation as he lined himself up with your wet entrance. With a firm thrust, he plunged into you, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips. Dark!Bi Han, ever the dominant one, stood before you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. He relished in the power he held over you, his voice dripping with a deliciously degrading tone. "-You are an insatiable little whore.." he growled, his words sending shivers down your spine. "-Take his cock like a good little fucktoy. Show us how much you crave it."

Dark!Bi Han and Titan!Bi Han positioned themselves in front of you, their erect members proudly on display. You wanted to please them both, to take them deep into your mouth and show them the desire and passion you felt. With determination, you took them both in your hands, feeling their warmth and hardness against your skin. Your lips parted, and you eagerly engulfed both their cocks, alternating between them, giving equal attention to each. The taste of their arousal filled your mouth, their moans of lust spurring you on. As you struggled to accommodate both of them, your mouth stretched wide, taking in the delicious sensation of their lengths moving against your tongue. It was a delicious torment, the dual pleasure of being filled by both Dark!Bi Han and TiTan!Bi Han, their hands gently threading through your hair, guiding you with each rhythmic movement. You could hear praises being moaned and whispered, your knees hurt, your eyes were streaming tears and your pussy was drooling on OG!Bi Han's cock, you were being filled by all of them, the hot and cold sensation would almost make you pass out, if not it was the painful and delicious occupation of the dicks of the alternative versions of the grandmaster. Dark!Bi Han's hips bucked, a low groan escaping his lips, as he spilled his essence into your mouth. The taste of his release was both familiar and new, a delicious reminder of the intimacy you shared. Titan!Bi Han followed suit, the intensity of his orgasm, but he withdrew from your mouth, cumming on your face, and giving a light erotic slap with his cum-stained dick on your face.

"-Cum in their cunt... breed them like the little slut they are..." Dark!Bi Han told his counterpart, who started fucking you with all his intensity again, you couldn't take it anymore, looking for support in Titan!Bi Han while your cyromancer boyfriend filled you with cum, making you cry with pleasure. Your body hurt so much, you actually felt like you were going to pass out, as you saw a melancholy look coming surprisingly from the corrupted version of your boyfriend... Dark!Bi Han, a chaste kiss was left on your cheek by him, while Titan!Bi Han spoke something for the original version of your boyfriend, a 'I'm sorry' was whispered by the dark ninja, a small tear was left by him on your sweaty skin. You managed to regain consciousness and put together some loose sentences spoken by Asian men - you realized that your boyfriend, had allowed both to experience you intimately because in their reality, your version had tragically passed away. You were the only living version of yourself left, and they sought solace and connection with you, the closest thing to the love they had lost. Your heart found as you absorbed the weight of their sorrow. It was a bittersweet revelation - You reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and cupped Dark!Bi Han's cheek, his hand finding its place on your other cheek. His touch was gentle... but cold...deadly cold, his voice filled with pain. "-Thank you.. It means more than you can imagine."

You soon saw the two versions leave with your boyfriend, both giving advice and strategies on how to prevent your death... but they knew that deep down, there were fates worse than death, and that unfortunately... fate is inevitable.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[rwrbficrecs]

A combined rec list for July & August ❤️

Before This, After That by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry has a serious horse-riding injury and is in a downward spiral with his recovery until Therapist Alex pulls him out of it. I liked the sharp-edges interaction between them as they fall for each other. I actually read this one a while ago and it was just as good as a reread!

The darkest part of the forest by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've loved this entire series, but this was my favorite by far so far! The way the author does world building in her fics is incomparable, even in a fic this short! I would love if she decided to make this a multichapter someday!

Count The Stars and Constellations by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've said it once already this month, but it bears repeating: the way the author does world building in her fics is absolutely phenomenal! This one's an outer space saga for the ages, plus it's a multichapter, so we get to see Alex and Henry fall in love over the span of several years, and it's a bit angsty, but absolutely worth it!

An Exquisite Temptation by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry became a Catholic priest to escape his homophobic family. Never did he expect to meet a stunningly attractive and equally charming, mouthy Texan who would seriously challenge his devout faith. Y'all can guess where this is headed, right? Delicious in so many ways: emotional, full of ‘80s vibes, angsty, smutty—an absolute masterpiece! Chef’s kiss!

How to get over Henry Fox: A list by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This AU is set in 2002, and Alex breaks up with the love of his life Henry. Even though it's clear they’d only be apart for a year, the story is still so gut-wrenching. The hurt and angst really got to me—reading that fic is a challenge, but it's absolutely worth it.

late night devil (put your hands on me) by @nine-butterflies (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The way this author took a 4 chapter fic and gave the world so much history and lore is absolutely incredible! Plus there are so many moments of Alex and Henry's relationship that're reminiscent of the book. Everything about this fic is amazing- and it's also definitely a good fic if you're looking for something for Halloween when it arrives soon!

right there beside him (all summer long) by @theprinceandagcd (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: The winter in Australia had me craving a story with summer vibes and this fic was perfect for that. Loved everything about this fic!!

Interrupted (series) by RadioFriday (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, just like his dad was. This story follows him and Alex through their painful journey, including the end of it and beyond. Read this if you’re in the mood to have your heart broken, over and over.

the very essence of love by dollarstoreannabethchase (book-verse)

@suseagull04: It's RWRB, but from Henry's POV. The angst of the original is heightened in this (believe it or not, it can be done), but that makes the ending that much sweeter, and I loved the insight into Henry's thoughts!

somewhere in your world by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Prince Henry, student at Oxford, tries to reach a hook-up gone wrong – and ends up texting someone else entirely: Alex. A deep chat friendship unfolds, while simultaneously Henry begins to fall for the charismatic FSOTUS. Whether it’s the universe at work, coincidence, or fate, the pleasure of reading this heartfelt fic is indescribably beautiful !!

In the Grand Scheme of Things by @itsmaybitheway (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: Meet cute at a wedding, instant attraction, intellectual banter- this fic has it all! Plus this is the best AU characterization of firstprince I've seen in a while, it's fantastic!

marked by rizcriz (book/movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: a soulmate AU with some extra drama - Henry learns that the reason he hasn't met his soulmate was his grandmother's plotting. Extremely well executed - my heart was breaking and then singing when it all turned out well.

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some intense angst? I needed like two business days to recover from reading this one. The story is a devastating view of complex grief as different characters deal with Alex’s death. I thought that the odd and asynchronous ways the grief manifests for different people was raw, real, and well done.

peace by @raysletters (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Sky High AU I didn't know I needed! I love how this isn't a carbon copy of the movie but uses each character's strengths and weaknesses- and it's also just a very cute magic high school AU, which is just the cherry on top!

Son of a Gun by foux_dogue (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I hope you’ve all read 'It's not a secret' by now? I wasn't aware until it was published, but I needed that follow-up so badly! In this fic, which can be read as a standalone, Alex cuts down his work as a tattoo artist to take care of the kids (good thing Henry is loaded) and inevitably has to deal with the Milton-Saylor Academy Mom Squad. Absolutely wholesome, full of domesticity—just like, excellent!

You Set The Tone by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is an emergency room doctor and Henry a pediatrician in the same hospital, and their animosity (read: infatuation) with each other began just as unfortunate as in canon. Their gradual coming together, intertwined with the medical emergencies, is wonderfully crafted. The tension is effortlessly maintained over 70k words, never feeling contrived. I was so moved while reading, it hurt phenomenally good, and I cried more than I have in a long time.

pick your poison babe (im poison either way) by sheWritesToLiveVicariously (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Co-workers to lovers with lots of emotion and a touch of angst—it never gets old, right? This 5+1 story is part of the "little moments that pass us by" series, and like all the stories in it, it's rather short, but full of feeling, very soft, and so touching. I'm already looking forward to hopefully many more fics in this series.

Down In The Valley by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This Stardew Valley AU was such a lovely read and as an avid stardew valley player, I thoroughly enjoyed all the little easter eggs and references to the game. Even if you’ve never played Stardew, this is still such a sweet and delightful read!!