#like part 3 is getting INTENSE i have so many insane ideas for it it’s rlly looking to be a banger fic icl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoseoksluna · 8 months ago

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch.

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is.

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully.

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses.

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth.

He is not, in fact, on his way home.

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy.

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny.

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?”

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display.

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.”

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself.

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen.

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking.

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do?

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice.

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.”

Naked.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.”

And with that, he hangs up.

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you.

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend.

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form.

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer.

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience?

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad.

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you.

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done?

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you.

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer.

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you.

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had.

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to.

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all.

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream—

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment?

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call?

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person.

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult.

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there.

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.”

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred.

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body.

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man.

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober.

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross.

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially.

Was it out of the question or would he consider it?

Your leg jitters harder.

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin.

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.”

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion.

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek.

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?”

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one?

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks.

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness.

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you.

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.”

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?”

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did.

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently.

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side.

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.”

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?”

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you.

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.”

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted.

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue.

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?”

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?”

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?”

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?”

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.”

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?”

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath.

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while.

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.”

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours.

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples.

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged.

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?”

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times.

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think.

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants.

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half.

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath.

Such a stark, sudden change.

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that.

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.”

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving.

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin.

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under.

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration.

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home.

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy.

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?”

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start.

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down.

You fight against it.

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness.

And you decide to repeat history.

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants.

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?”

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether.

And then, you collect your essence again.

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.”

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally.

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue.

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.”

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you.

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince.

And then—then he manhandles you.

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does.

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden.

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter.

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?”

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion.

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.”

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit.

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off.

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.”

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused.

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.”

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation.

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way.

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum.

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.”

Yoongi has had enough.

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’.

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.”

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?”

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix.

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?”

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him.

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.”

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you.

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.”

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.”

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something.

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you.

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.”

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come.

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them.

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.”

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes.

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.”

With that, he hangs up.

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again.

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself.

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you.

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing.

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?”

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.”

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief.

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you.

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind.

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles.

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.”

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours.

But you don’t let him take charge.

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.”

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you.

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed.

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours.

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.”

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him.

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock.

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit.

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life.

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too.

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring.

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.”

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation.

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?”

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness.

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him.

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.”

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.”

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two

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shaunamilfman · 7 months ago

Text

you must like me for me [1]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. A/N: NSFW. the "shauna hooks up with you instead of jeff" au that you know and love. Part 2 | Part 3

Click. Click. “Fucking work,” Nat muttered. Click. Click. Click. “Piece of shit.” She hits it against her palm a few times before trying again. Click.

Stay calm. Deep breaths.

You bury your face into your hands with a heavy sigh as Nat keeps flicking uselessly at her lighter. “Are you done yet?” You ask wryly, voice muffled by your palm.

“Nope,” Nat comments, purposefully flicking it louder. The grating sound of her empty lighter catching was starting to drive you insane, and you both knew it would only get worse. You groan as you pull back to glare up at her, dutifully rummaging through your jacket pocket for your own lighter.

There's the beginnings of a smirk clearly visible on her face, and you realize with a sudden clarity that annoying you had been her goal the entire time. You almost want to keep it from her on sheer principle, but she'd just find another way to irritate you if you did. Pissing you off seemed to be one of her few passions in life. Do what you love and you never work a day or some shit. If only she took algebra this seriously.

Your hand wraps around the cold metal, your thumb rubbing soothingly over the familiar gouges on the surface. You dreaded having to hand it over, already quietly mourning its comforting weight as you held it loosely up in front of you. It was just a lighter, sure, but it was your favorite lighter. You were aware that it probably wasn’t all that healthy to use a lighter as an emotional crux, but you figured that was a problem for a later you.

Nat shoves her bic back in her pocket with a crooked grin, reaching for yours and snickering as you jerk it away from her. “Don't be a dick,” She says.

“I want it back, Nat,” You warn. Nat rolls her eyes as she nods, leaning over you to snatch it out of your hand. You let her take it easily, relaxing back against the wall as she finally lights up. Nat exhales slowly, relief evident in her voice as the familiar smell washes over you. You weren’t particularly fond of the smell, but you doubt many people were. You’d smoked here and there when Nat was feeling particularly generous, but it wasn’t a habit you planned on picking up.

You were much more content to watch, basking silently in the smoke of whichever of your friends you’d followed outside. That’s how you preferred to experience most of the world, watching quietly until something caught your attention. Nat called it ‘brooding’, but you preferred to think of yourself just as the silent type. Nat laughed her ass off the one time you mentioned it to her, calming herself down only to randomly burst into laughter for the next week whenever she thought of it.

Since then you’ve decided to keep that to yourself as well, aghast at the idea of giving Nat more ammo to use against you. Nat was your best friend, sure, that was undeniable. Still, she could be a real bitch when she wanted to– it’s part of why you got along so well in the first place.

“Jesus,” She laughs out suddenly, cigarette held loosely between two fingers as she gestures across the room. “If looks could kill.” Your eyes follow the gesture absentmindedly, grinning as you catch sight of a murderous-looking Shauna staring down Jackie and Jeff across the room. Your eyes widen at the sheer rage she's giving off– you're not sure you've ever felt that strongly about anything in your life.

There was something about the intensity of her face that made it difficult to tear your eyes away from her. She looked fucking psychotic, like the kind of expression you'd catch on the eleven o'clock news as someone insists that ‘he just seemed so normal’. Honestly, you wouldn't be all that surprised to find out Shauna Shipman already had a trail of bodies behind her. You eye her arms interestedly– she'd certainly be strong enough to carry the body off.

Still, if Shauna's looks could kill you would've been dead a long time ago. You've been on the receiving end of that particular look so many times that it lost its intended impact a long time ago. You weren't quite sure what you'd done to piss her off, but you quietly thanked yourself for it. You knew she meant it to be intimidating, but the way you shivered under her gaze was never quite as fearful as she probably hoped.

That flaming anger in her eyes that you worried might burn you from the inside out if you weren’t careful only made you want to press more. You wanted so badly to see what would happen when she finally lost it on you. Shauna was dangerous, as you more than well knew. You’ve seen evidence of that more than just about anyone else: always carefully lingering by the edge of the crowd as Shauna started swinging.

There was something about her then, something utterly enticing in her fury. She seemed larger than life in those moments, all civility leaving her body as she became something to truly be reckoned with. The dead look in her eyes and the harsh look of fury as she lost control of whoever was stupid enough to start shit with her. It was almost intimate.

As many times as she’d glared you down she had never actually tried to swing on you, as much as you sometimes wish she would. You had a pretty similar reputation, and you were more than a little curious about which one of you would come out victorious if ever came down to it. You don’t think you’d mind the result either way in all honesty. You would count yourself lucky to lose a fight if it was to her. Not, of course, that you’d let her win. That would take all the fun out of it, all of the struggle.

You’ve spent more time than you’d care to admit thinking about how her knuckles would feel tearing into your flesh, your face rocked from side to side with the force of every blow as she used the full strength of her body to really lay into you. You liked to imagine the way her fists would look stained with your blood, her heavy breathing above you as she tired herself out beating her fury into your body.

So, yeah. You were perfectly normal about Shauna Shipman.

“Hey,” You hear a soft voice say, glancing away from Shauna at the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. You turn to glare at whatever asshole is in your face, trying to hide your surprise at finding Jackie in front of you. Jackie takes a half step back at the look, hesitation melting into determination as she does her best to stare you down in return.

You can’t help the way a smile tugs at the corner of your lips: Jackie’s attempt at a glare is more funny than scary. Her eyebrows narrow in determination, but she seems more confused than intimidating. Had she walked up to you on the street you probably would have tried to give her directions. Her lips twisted into a scowl, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. It was as if she was imitating a storybook villain more than anything else. She probably should have practiced it in a mirror a few more times before debuting it.

You appreciated the valiant effort but decided she ought to leave the intimidation to Shauna. She seems to come to a similar conclusion, looking down at her feet to hide a slight flush on her face as she awkwardly rocks back on her heels.

“Did you seriously snap in my face?” You ask, amused.

“You were like totally zoned out,” Jackie defends, rolling her eyes when Nat snickers.

“So you snap in my face?”

“Come on,” Jackie draws out, pouting up at you. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, that was like five minutes ago now.” You scoff, but decide it was probably best just to let it go at this point.

“Did you want something?” You prompt.

“Oh! Yeah,” Jackie laughs, waving a joint she seems to pull out of nowhere in your face. “You have a light, right?” You glance at her curiously, before shrugging. You look over your shoulder at Nat who thumbs your lighter open, quickly lighting it up before stuffing it back in her pocket.

Jackie grins as she takes a hit, purposely blowing the smoke in your face as you narrow your eyes at her. Normally you’d excuse it as typical Jackie Taylor brand irritation, but you have an odd feeling that she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her eyes betray just a hint of a smile as if she’s in on a joke you weren’t meant to understand.

You open your mouth to say something in return, probably antagonistic, but Jackie holds the joint out towards you in a peace offering. You consider it for a moment before taking it, deciding there were definitely worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Besides, free weed was free weed. Even if it was somehow already stained with Jackie’s lipstick.

You inhale slowly, purposely blowing out into Jackie’s face. She scowls at you, but quickly gets over it as she snatches it back. You talk to a loose and happy Jackie Taylor for a while, too engrossed in the conversation to realize Shauna's death glare had long since shifted targets.

…

“No,” You say firmly. Nat gives you a sad look as she glances up at you.

“No,” You repeat again, hesitating this time. Nat, sensing weakness, immediately holds her hands together in a pleading gesture, making you roll your eyes. “Fine,” You start to walk off in search of the kitchen. “But I'm going to get you the warmest can I can find.”

You can faintly hear Nat shouting “Booooo!” As you turn the corner but decide to ignore it. You bypass the ice chest as you see a can sitting off to the side, clearly set down and forgotten. Still, it was definitely unopened. Perfect.

You're about to walk back into the living room when you catch sight of a flashing light through a window. Your eyes widen as the siren sounds, the flashing blue and red lights bright in the darkness.

Shit. Nat was on her own.

The music comes to a dramatic stop as everyone else seems to come to the same conclusion, but you've already slipped out the backdoor before the shouting starts. You run blindly through the forest, waiting until the lights aren't quite as visible in the distance before coming to a stop. You lean against a tree as you catch your breath, silently laughing at the dismayed shouts as people on the edge of the woods are caught.

You duck behind a fallen tree at the sound of a stick breaking, wondering how they'd even get out to you so quickly. The sound of snapping branches only gets louder, quickly approaching your location as you start to hear the sound of heavy breathing. You watch in disbelief as Shauna runs right past you, rolling your eyes as she doesn't even seem to notice you.

“Shauna,” You whisper harshly. She whirls around in confusion, a slight fear on her face till she seems to just barely make out your face in the dark.

“Y/N,” She mutters irritatedly. You give her an unimpressed look despite knowing she wouldn't be able to make it out from that far away.

“Don't sound so excited to see me,” You mutter. Let her get caught if she wants to. She obviously doesn't seem to have much experience running away from the cops.

“Trust me, you're the last person I'd want to run away from in the woods,” Shauna seethes, but stomps over to lean against a tree near you.

You start to respond before you hear harsh panting, glancing back over the tree to see Jeff running through the woods right toward the cops. You think about calling out to him, but you think it's funnier to imagine his face when he realizes what he's done. You're not that surprised he's mixed up his directions. You glance over at Shauna's look of disgust as she watches.

“You could go with him instead,” You offer quietly, grinning smugly as she shoots you a look of disdain.

She decides to ignore you for a while, bouncing her leg up and down to work off her nervous energy. You both wince at the sound of every broken twig, almost certain this is going to be the one that gets you caught. You finally glare over at her as the rustling starts to get on your nerves.

“You know, you're pretty bad at this,” You murmur, peering over the tree one last time before settling on the ground with your back against it. You start fumbling through your pockets for your lighter, but quickly realize Nat must've taken it with her.

Bitch.

Now you have to deal with Shauna sober. Soberish, you think, searching through your jacket pockets till you find it. You pop the tab open with a grin that quickly slides into a wince as the taste hits your tongue. You'd been tasked with getting the beer can by Nat, a task which you reluctantly agreed to but now felt oddly thankful for. Her loss was your gain, and besides– it's not like it was your fault the party was busted before you could get her lukewarm can of beer back to her.

You take another sip, almost surprised as it somehow tasted worse than the last one, but Shauna snatches it from your hand and tosses it behind her before you can take another one. You stare at your empty hand in disbelief, hand still clenched around where the stolen can once sat before you slowly look up at her. She's got that famous grin on her face, head tilted in a way that you know means she's about to start shit.

Still, even you're surprised when she throws the now empty can aimlessly behind her and stumbles forward to straddle your legs. Your eyes are wide when you somehow end up with a lap full of Shipman, hands resting instinctively on her thighs as she scoots up to press her hips flush against yours.

“Jesus, Shipman,” You mutter. “Warn a girl.”

“You know, I've heard a few rumors about you,” She murmurs, a hungry glint in her eyes. You resist the urge to tremble under her gaze, feeling oddly like a prey animal as she stares intently down at you. You almost want to get up and run, but you shudder at the thought of dumping her off your lap to do it.

“If you seriously ask me if I've done anal with Kevin we're going to find out which one of us would win in a fight, Shipman. I swear to God.” You say, stealing yourself for a fight as Shauna just smirks down at you with that strange look on her face.

“Heard you had a thing for girls. Heard you were good at it.”

“I don't kiss and tell,” You say firmly, pointedly digging your thumb into her thighs as they start to bracket you tighter. Shauna hisses in pain, hand clutching your shoulder tightly as you only press them in harder. Shauna relaxed her grip with a whimper, a fucking whimper, as she unconsciously pressed herself further into your thumb. She looks at you with an almost unreadable expression as she thinks for a moment, before shifting and tentatively rocking her hips against yours.

“Too bad that senior you hooked up with last year doesn't feel the same way about it,” Shauna snarks, rutting down in earnest as your hands come up to encourage her hips as she rides your thigh.

“What?” You ask distractedly, a breathy sound as you manage to tear your eyes from the way her dress rides up with every roll of her hips.

“Fuck,” She draws out shakily, eyes slipping shut as she rests her head on your shoulder. A pleasured sigh escaped her as she found a good angle, hips stuttering against you until your guiding hands took over for her.

“Had to double back last year for something that Jackie forgot,” A strange hint of venom enters her voice at the name. “And Kelly couldn't stop singing your praises to last year's varsity team. Best fuck she's ever had, did you know that? Of course, she's only ever slept with her loser boyfriend so it probably isn't that much of an achievement.”

Your initial wave of disgust at the admission is overshadowed by a feeling of pride. Best fuck she's ever had? No. You're upset that she's talking about you behind your back. Definitely. Your righteous indignation is quickly tamped down as Shauna whines out her protest as she bites pointedly at your neck.

Right, you think, quickly resuming the endless back-and-forth motions of Shauna's hips as she lets out these perfect little noises into your ear.

“Think it's a little obvious that I have a thing for girls at this point,” You comment wryly, sneaking a peek down the neckline of her dress as she shudders against you.

“Oh, fuck. Right there. Right there,” She pleads, the wet glide of her against your thigh rubbing just right.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Shipman?” You tease, pulling her down harder against you. She opens her eyes just to glare at you, the heat in her stare almost enough to make you back down as she seems almost resentful of the pleasure you're giving her.

She scoffs. “Even Randy could…” She trails off into a loud moan, muttering a few quiet curses under her breath before continuing, “...stay still while I get myself off.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure is.”

“Maybe you should go find him, then,” You say, slowly drawing your hands away from her hips.

“Don't be an asshole,” Shauna snaps, clawing at your back in warning. “Make me come or I’ll–”

“What? You’ll do what?” You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to respond.

“Maybe you should shut up and take it before I decide to walk off, yeah? Maybe you can be just a little nicer for once so you won’t have to walk back to your car still dripping in your panties.” Her jaw is clenched tightly, an absolute look of murder in her eyes but she doesn’t offer up another threat.

“Can you do that for me?” You taunt, pressing on the sore spot as soon as you realize its existence. Shauna huffs angrily, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Strangely the anger seems to make it better for her, her thrusts slowly speeding up the longer you continue to irritate her until she's riding your thigh with a vengeance.

She whispers breathy threats of violence into your ear in between ragged moans, but it's hard to take her at face value as she rubs herself all over the rough denim of your jeans. You wince at the thought of the stain she's going to leave, quickly pushing it out of your mind as Shauna bites at your shoulder through your shirt to muffle her moan as she comes. Even as muffled as it is she’s so loud that you can still clearly hear her as she continues to grind weakly against you as she rides out her orgasm.

“Did you just...” You ask in astonishment.

“No,” Shauna lies, voice just a little too high pitched and embarrassed for it to be the truth. She seems to gather as much from the shit-eating grin on your face, slapping weakly at your shoulder with a hint of playfulness you've never seen directed at anyone but Jackie before. She glares at you again a moment later, as if she was trying to take it back. Leave it to Shauna Shipman to regret smiling.

“Shut up,” She groans, face flushing with embarrassment. “Whatever. Just make me come again. You can do that, can't you?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grab for her discarded flannel and roll it up to lay under her head as you sit up and lay her back on the forest floor. Shauna's smile is almost shy as you look down at her from your position between her spread legs. You trail your hand up her thigh for a moment before thinking better of it.

“Up,” You direct, tapping at her leg as you shrug your jacket off. She complies with a curious look on her face, a soft smile taking its place as you slip your jacket under her hips on the ground. You take the opportunity that's presented to you and hook your fingers in the waistband of her underwear as you pull it down your legs.

You hold up your surprising find on one finger, her lacy black panties almost blowing in the gentle breeze. She squeaks in embarrassment, her reflexes fast as she tries to grab for them but not quite as fast as yours as you jerk them away to shove in your pocket. “Didn't strike me as quite your style, Shipman,” You murmur, “Thought you'd be more of a boxers type.”

“Yeah?” Shauna asks. “You spend a lot of time thinking about what's beneath my clothes?”

You flush in embarrassment as you try to sputter out a response, before finally settling on a simple “Fuck you.”

“Gonna have to wear something under my uniform from now on. Had no idea someone was trying to look up my shorts,” Shauna says with feigned disgust, shaking her head as if she truly couldn't believe it.

“Eat a dick,” You mutter, rocking back on your knees as you move to stand up.

“Don't be such a baby,” Shauna chides, hooking her leg around your knee to keep you down. She grabs at the collar of your shirt as she drags you into a messy kiss that serves only to emphasize her lack of experience in the area. Still, no one will say that Shauna Shipman isn't a quick study as she thoroughly distracts you from her teasing.

“Jackie picked them out,” She murmurs lowly as you separate for air.

“What?” You ask.

“My... My panties,” Shauna admits with a quiet voice.

You grin and she rolls her eyes. “Don't say anything,” She warns.

“No, hey. I'm sure everyone lets their best friend pick out their panties. Nothing weird there,” You choke the laughter down to give her the most understanding look you can muster on a moment's notice. Shauna glares and you hold your hands up innocently. “Nat picked mine out too.”

“... Really?” She asks, eyes slowly tracing down to stare at your jeans.

“Fuck no,” You laugh out, burying your face into her neck as you shake with the force of it. She sighs irritatedly, pinching at your sides until you finally stop.

“Eat me out before I find someone else to do it,” She threatens, but you can still find the traces of levity on her face she hasn't managed to erase.

“Yes, Ma'am,” You say sarcastically, shifting to lean on your elbows as you spread her thighs around your shoulders.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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knoxic · 11 months ago

Text

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 3k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight cockwarming, brief mention of Foyet and scars, size difference, clothed sex, no beta I think that's it but let me know if there's more

You kissed him, hard.

Feeling your lips against his felt so much better than he expected. After a few seconds of delay, he raised both hands to hold your head, one holding your hair tightly and the other at the side of your jaw, the height difference made him bend his head a little but it allowed him to deepen the kiss. One of your hands had gone to his waist to pull him closer while the other one was holding his shoulder to keep him a little lower and to hold yourself up. The kiss was messy, Aaron moaned whenever you'd squeeze your hands or change the intensity of the kiss.

At a slight suck on his lower lip, he pressed his hard cock against your body, whimpering at the pressure. The hand you kept on his shoulder had lowered to his belt, undoing it without brushing him, you have never been a fan of blowing but if it involved Aaron, you could give it a try.

You started pushing him back by the hips, his mouth refused to leave yours and he breathed heavily against your cheek, his hips moved but his feet didn't so you took a step between his legs to push him with your own hip. He gasped, his mouth left yours for a moment to see what you were doing, as he realized he took some steps back with you until he felt the bed on his leg. You pushed him to sit down and motioned to kneel but he pulled you on his lap, as soon as he settled you, his hands were adjusting themselves on your head again.

"I thought you needed help-"

"Doesn't need to be like that" he pressed a few kisses on your lips, his voice was slightly above a whisper.

"I've been an idiot, I know. Getting a blowjob from you after today would be too much."

He took a moment to kiss you again, only now seeming to realize you wouldn't stop kissing him if he didn't hold your mouth close to his. His arms wrapped around your waist, making you arch your back and press yourself to his chest, his cock was at the perfect angle to grind against you.

"We can start slowly, we don't need to have sex tonight," with your arms now over his shoulders, he kissed your cheek before making his way down your jaw to your neck, "Even if I really want to."

He kept kissing and licking your neck and you were holding yourself back from moaning, instead opting to just let out heavy breaths against his own neck. Which was only making him harder.

Only a night ago he was going insane over your breath and it was happening again now but for a totally different reason. The way you were breathing heavily against his neck and he could hear how you sighed and gasped so close to him, and being the reason for it, was making him lose his mind. You smelled so good, he couldn't point out what it was, perhaps it was just your skin, but you still smelled like peaches even if your shower had been a few hours ago and he didn't remember seeing you put on perfume.

His hands now were slipping from your waist to your hip, he seemed conflicted on whether he should slip his hands under your shirt or touch your bare thighs.

"You make me insane, you know?"

"I have an idea, you seemed pretty crazy tonight." He laughed against your neck.

"Sorry. You know how many times i thought about this?"

"No." True.

"More times than i can count. I thought about it today, in the shower..."

"When you took my phone?" you were laughing now, one of your hands had come to his hair and you pulled yourself back to look at him.

"Yeah, you looked hot standing for yourself, kind of scared me a little..." a lot...

"Oh god..." laughing harder you dropped your head to his shoulder, embarrassed.

Both of his hands had slipped under your shirt, his fingers caressing your ribs and thumbs brushing your nipples. You had never been really sensitive there, Aaron had an bigger effect on your body than you thought. His index and middle finger pinched your nipples while he continued peppering kisses and nibbles on your neck making goosebumps surge all over your body.

He noticed the way your body shivered and felt the goosebumps on his hands when they continued exploring your body, your back arched making your ass brush his sensitive member and he couldn't help but tilt his hips, he felt like he could cum anytime now.

"Remember that night we went to one of Rossi's favorite bars, a guy was being all weird and creepy with us and you got all protective and made him get out?" he hummed, he could remember that night pretty well, "When you got in front of me to keep me out of his view, and when you hugged me... i think that's when i was sure i liked you. It was also pretty fucking hot." His hands were back to your hips, gently guiding them to move in circles.

"During that hug i also told you how good you were for calling me, how you had done a good job keeping him away..." your breath hitched and he promised himself he would make sure he'd hear your breath by his ear for the rest of his life. "You like it when i praise? When i call you a good girl?"

"Aaron-"

"Fuck, i love when you say my name like that."

He felt your arms loosening the hold they had on his shoulders, felt when they moved down his body and your hands found his pants, he only now noticed his belt was open. Your shaky fingers unbuttoned his pants and tried pushing it down but there was barely no space between you.

"Let me help, sweetheart." The pet name made your heart skip a beat. The warmth on your belly now was a unbearable pressure but Aaron calling you 'sweetheart', gave you an immense relief, maybe it was your brain finally processing that indeed Aaron liked you. "You like it when i call you 'sweetheart'?"

"Yes," one of his arms came to your waist again, raising you slightly, the other hand pushed his pants down only enough to freed his cock. "But i think i would like any pet names you called me."

Your response earned you a kiss. The hand he used to push his pants down was at the back of your neck now, slightly pushing you closer to him. Both of your hands were at his shoulders again and it helped you stand on your knees, one hand freeing itself only to push your shorts down a leg before switching hands and doing the same with the other leg.

The moment you sat back down he pulled you to sit above his member, his head resting right at your entrance. Breaking the kiss he looked down, your oversized shirt hid yourself from him.

"Are you sure?" he looked into your eyes. "We don't have to."

"I know, i want to. But we'll talk later, right."

"We will, baby. Don't worry."

You pulled his head in for a kiss, he allowed a small pec before looking down and spitting in his own hand.

"Lift your shirt for me, please?"

You pulled it up thinking he wanted you to take it off, it reached your collarbones before he stopped you.

"No, no! Keep it on, for now." without any warnings he bent down and sucked on your nipple, at the same time his fingers found your entrance. Rubbing and adding pressure, he slipped a finger inside making you arch more into his mouth, he switched sides and slowly pumped his finger inside you. At some point, his spit dried off.

"Help me?" he slipped his finger out of you and presented them to you, it took a little effort to spit, your mouth had dried from how much you were gasping. After you spat, he did the same. Drenching your hole in both of your drools he repeated what he did the first time, now pressing both of his fingers. It burned, but nothing too bad to make you stop him, you wondered what his dick would feel like.

Your eyes had been closed for a while, your forehead resting on his, when his fingers brushed a certain spot inside you your head lifted, moaning loudly before he captured your mouth in his. His hand that was holding your waist came up to hold your nape, squeezing gently.

The kiss lasted for a while, he pumped his fingers and brushed that same spot many times until you broke the kiss and raised yourself again to slip out of his fingers.

"Did i do something wrong?"

"No, I want to come with you inside me, please?"

"Trust me, i want it just as much as you do but i think we will need lube."

"I don't have any..."

"I do, bring my bag to me, please?" Both of his hands were caressing your hips but the fingers he used to open you up didn't touch your skin.

"Can I ask why you bring lube with you?"

"Helps me relieve stress." At the sound of your laughter he gave you a slight smack on the side of your tight before accompanying you. "Did you expect me to say something else?"

"I don't really know what I expected actually."

Before you climbed out of his lap, he gave you a light peck on your lips and cheek. His bag was heavy, as soon as you came close enough for him to reach you he pulled on back on his lap. After dropping his bag on his side above the bed, your arms subconsciously made their way back to his shoulders.

His right arm circled your waist while his left one searched for the lube, some of his clothes fell over the bed and you could see the small object that made his bag so heavy, the lube tucked a few socks away from it. Somehow the sight of his spare gun made you even hornier, it reminded you of how capable Aaron really was.

"Are you sure you still want this?" He was now warming the lube in his fingers, "I know it's not the best moment."

"Aaron, you were literally whimpering minutes ago," Unfortunately he didn't find it as funny as you did, "I'm sure, I don't want this to stop."

"Well, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop..."

"Good." You took his hand and positioned it on where it was before.

"We both waited enough..." His voice was low, the lowest you ever heard.

"Yeah..."

His fingers were fast, he was no longer holding back. The arm that held you tightly against him dissapeared, you weren't really paying attention until he gently pushed your stomach away, only far enough to reach his cock. Won by curiosity you looked down, his hand pumped himself slowly, his head shined.

"Ready?" He gasped.

He wasn't very long but he was thick, that fact alone made you hesitate. His veins were prominent, his head a little bigger than the rest of it, in general his cock was the prettiest you've ever seen.

"Don't think it'll fit?" You knew that tone, he barely ever used it but you knew he was teasing you.

"Not sure if you noticed but you're not exactly small..." He laughed and kissed your cheek.

"It will fit."

Slowly he started lifting your body, one hand on your hip to drag you closer while the other held your rib.

The stretch of his tip breaching you was stinging, it burned a lot more than his fingers did. He moaned and hissed, he was clearly sensitive. His hand squeezed your hip and you took the hint to take over, lowering yourself on your own pace.

The only noise in the whole room now was the sound of you two panting, big contrast to the fighting minutes ago. After a couple minutes you were finally full of him, the feeling was different but not at all uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to last..." He was breathing so fast that if it were any other time, you would've been worried.

His hand went up and down your torso, pinching your nipples. Your shirt bunching up is what remained you that beside your shorts, you two were still clothed.

At the same time you started moving up and down, your hands went down to tug at his shirt, "No." Weirdly, you had forgotten about his scars.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I just don't want to..." His voice was shaken up, you weren't sure if it was because of your movements or the reminder of Foyet.

"I get it, but just so you know," Your pace was faster now, Aaron's hands both gripped your hips to help you, "I don't mind them, whenever you're ready you can show them to me."

He didn't answer verbally, deciding that kissing you would be better. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly and making him groan.

One if his arms hugged your body, bringing up closer to him. Not being able to raise anymore, you started to grind down on him, the sensation was overwhelmingly good.

He went out of breath even when you two were breathing in each other's faces when kissing, his lips found your neck, biting and sucking. "Try not to leave any marks."

"Why not? It'll be good for tomorrow," He laughed. "I'm wildly possessive." He was teasing but it had a hint of true to it.

You held back a moan, his voice and his cock inside you was a deadly combination. At some point you had started sweating, your stamina was pretty high but this time the exercise felt a little draining. Aaron seemed to sense that.

In a minute you were riding and grinding on him like your life depended on it, the other he was standing and walking around to lay you on the bed. His stomach and chest holding you down, your sweaty back clung to your shirt. He pounded you harder than you expected him to, his lips delivering small pecks to your neck was making you crazy. Your wet shirt was beginning to irritate you so you pushed his chest slightly, his thrusts faltered and lost a little of its speed, before he could ask what was wrong, you pulled your shirt off.

You often felt a little too exposed whenever you took off your clothes during sex, normally you would only do it with a lower light on. Now you didn't feel even a small bit of discomfort, even with hungry eyes taking in your nude form. Surprising you even more, one of his hands griped your neck, his fingers managed to pull at your jaw making you open your mouth for a deep wet kiss, his tongue touched yours before his lips could.

His thrusts regained its full force, your legs lost the hold they had on his waist, one of your hands slipped under his shirt to hold onto his back while the other held the back of his head.

Pulling out of you, he turned you on your stomach by your hips. Holding himself up by putting a hand on your lower back, he slipped inside you again, reaching different spots inside you that most people never reached before.

He seemed to almost be massaging you from the way he held you. His hands touched every bit of skin he possibly could, stopping to squeeze the muscle of your shoulder and the back of your neck. He gripped and pull the flesh of your ass almost like a cat making biscuits.

He groaned and hissed, you were far too lost in pleasure to male any noise. You let go of the sheets to slip a hand under yourself to play with your nipples, pinching and twisting like Aaron did before. He saw your movements and pulled at your arm, deciding to do the work himself, when you finally moaned he grabbed your neck again. "Cum with me?" His voice was barely a whisper right by your ear. Subconsciously you started squeezing him, both your insides and your hand that held his arm, his groan this time sounded more like a whimper. He squeezed your neck at the same time he bit at your shoulder, shivers went through your body and your legs shook just as you felt warm liquid shooting inside you. Aaron let go of your neck but kept stroking the sides of it, his forehead rested at your shoulder, he was panting heavily causing you to shiver some more. He mindlessly kept grinding down on you to prolong both of your orgasms.

Eventually he rolled out of you, adjusting himself so he didn't have to pull out, you were exhausted and melted in his embrace. If somebody asked you now why you two were fighting, you wouldn't be able to answer.

You must've been out for a while, Aaron's fingers stroking your ribs brought you back to yourself. The tiredness of the past few days was catching up, if your body wasn't so stick and Aaron's clothes weren't scratching your sensitive skin, you wouldn't complain about passing out again.

"We need a shower." His voice was rough.

"Yeah..." You whispered back, trying to curl up further into him when you noticed he was still inside you. He hissed but helped you settle more into him.

He was still wearing his pants and boxers and you wondered how uncomfortable it would be for him to have his cock out the way it was. Seeing you pushing your hand between both of your bodies to pull his boxers back up gave him a warm sense of intimacy.

"Okay, let's take a shower before I give up and sleep like this... Another shower." You said, pushing yourself up.

Your shirt was laying on the bed, you hadn't paid much attention to where it landed when you snatched if off of your body. Leaning to gather it, you felt a warm hand touching your back, exactly where your right lung was. For a hand that has been in contact with so many horrendous things, it was oddly comforting. Aaron in general exhaled comfort.

"Thank you." He whispered, making you turn to look at him over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"For trusting me, I've been hurting you and still you..."

"I told you before, I like you," He leaned back on the headrest, his hand still touching you. "And I had no control over it... though I suppose I wouldn't change a thing."

Taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch @emobabeyy @rousethemouse @nyxwolph @logicalhorror @donttrustlove

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine

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andkisses · 1 year ago

Text

♡ he's (super) shy | enhypen ♡

ot7!enha headcanon: he’s super shy, super shy

♡ ot7 x gn!reader | wc. 775 total ♡ genres/tropes: fluff! ♡ mentions of/warnings: none (this wasn’t proof read tho </3) ♡ a/n: little something for every member <3 jungwon’s first and the rest below the cut ^^ each part is inspired by lyrics from super shy by newjeans <3 ♡ a/n p2: i apologize for the unannounced absence! i started my new full time job and it’s taken a lot of effort to get into a new rhythm <3 i’ve also been working on a larger upcoming series as well! thank you for your patience ♡ masterlist ♡

✧･ﾟ: * jungwon - “but wait a minute while I make you mine, make you mine”

it took all the courage he could muster–he asked you to wait until he could confess properly. the wind blows through your hair and his, making you both tussled messes. jungwon didn’t want to risk losing you, even if he couldn’t bring himself to 100% confess to you yet. he wanted everything to be perfect for you, be brilliant and golden and oh so happy. and you made him so shy–a blush across his cheeks and a smile so wide it was painful. lucky him, with a kiss on that smiling, cheek you tell him he's already just enough–and that you’ve been waiting for this moment for forever

✧･ﾟ: * heeseung - “i'm all nervous ‘cause you’re on my mind all the time”

he thought he was losing his mind with all the thoughts of you—it had never happened before, and if it had, it was nowhere near this intense. everytime he thought of you or something romantic or both, he'd blush even if he was all alone and there was no one to tease him or ask questions. just the idea of you makes his heart race, a nervous pace that overcomes his senses and he’s sent the quick and short text before he can stop himself–i like you. do you like me back? your reply has heeseung experiencing a new kind of nervousness: yes, and i thought you would never ask

✧･ﾟ: * jay - “find a lil' spot, just sit and talk”

he works through his shyness by facing it head on, even if it makes him hot beneath the collar and red at the tips of his ears. he hopes he can blame both on the sun. jay invites you to so many different places under the guise of doing something else–studying, research for a project, anything else to make it not seem like a, well… a date. conveniently, it was only ever you two, and in his shyness he forgot your cleverness. you remind him one day after another outing, placing a kiss on his cheek to say goodbye and wishing the next time to be a real first date. jay’s determined to find the perfect place.

✧･ﾟ: * jake - “my eyes suddenly sparkle when you say i’m your dream”

he's sure he's dreaming–he must be–when you catch up to him on the quad, delicate fingers encircling his wrist. he turns toward you, and you tug him close with an intense look in your gaze, your confession and doubt already tumbling past your lips in a spiel you couldn’t have planned and jake couldn’t have ever expected. sure, he’s dreamt of a moment like this several times over, but having it be real? jake wonders if you see how his eyes sparkle when you do this, pour your heart out and strike past his shyness–should he be just as bold and just show you his feelings instead?

✧･ﾟ: * sunghoon - “you don’t even know my name, do ya?”

he’s absolutely certain that you didn’t know his name or even know he existed–or, at least, he was. yeah, you shared several classes and sunghoon has convinced himself you’re in the same major so he’ll get to see you often. but he's him and you're You and sunghoon has also convinced himself that he is merely a spectator to your show–a role he was content enough in. imagine his surprise when you find him after class and bring him a note–a nice envelope graced with your handwriting spelling out his name in perfect letters and–oh, what’s this? you’re blushing too?

✧･ﾟ: * sunoo - “i'm usually pretty talkative, what’s wrong with me?”

he shuts down around you and it drives him insane because sunoo could make a brick wall talk back. he’s also been confident in his conversation skills and his ability to be strong and bold around people. but with you? you're so special, too special–it takes him aback and off guard and it ignites a feeling in him he isn’t used to. sunoo, he realizes, is shy, and he isn’t sure what to do. so, he does what he knows best. sunoo catches you after class, and starts talking, ignoring his shyness and explaining his feels outright and–do you like him too? your hands in his, the red on your cheeks, and your lips against his tell him everything.

✧･ﾟ: * niki - “something odd about you, yeah, you’re special and you know it”

something odd has happened, between you and niki, and while it absolutely terrifies him, this new feeling, it's exciting, enthralling. it makes him shy and question himself but he wants answers more. so, one day, when you come over, he starts asking questions around the edge of what he actually wants to say, gauging your reaction in case he needs to back off and kill these new, shy feelings. imagine his surprise when you start teasing back, your questions striking closer to the confession niki hopes you’ll make–i like you. and then, somehow, without words even–you end up together, sharing a sweet kiss that niki is sure erases his shyness once and for all.

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jungwon fluff #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jake fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #niki fluff #headcanons #enhypen #all

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loquarocoeur · 2 months ago

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Genuinely not trying to distract you from your studies it your note about taking things “out of the bedroom” made me SUPER curious about what non-sexual submission/dominance would look like for Charles and Max and how it would kinda bleed into their everyday (if private) life

I just think that non-sexual BDSM has SO much area for character development and exploration which makes it super intriguing to me too

Babe. I really don't need help getting distracted from my studies, I'm getting distracted all by myself, the adhd is adhding at its finest today, hyperfocus on all the wrong things (and the worst part is i even took my meds :( )

Okay so I've always had this insane love for those one or two fics in every fandom, that are so rare, but you always find them, where it's not even sex its just kneeling

Idk there's just smth about it, how sometimes Max doesn't want sex he just wants his brain off.

I mean of course it's still totally tied into and intertwined with the sex things, but it's also a thing on its own?

Idk the kneeling just also has something to do with Max coming and asking for it as well, and I just also think there'd be something more difficult about letting go for Max when it isn't in the context of sex so there's just a whole bunch of fun stuff and psychology going on there to potentially play with

And I feel like Charles would be so confused about it, but after a minute he'd like get it, bcs you know Charles kind of also goes into a headspace in a way, and it's nice to just kind of sit there and look at Max being pretty with his eyes closed and his head resting on Charles' thigh or something, and it's not as energy intensive as sex yknow, but you still get the headspace? idk, I haven't fleshed this out yet

And it's also of course Max putting himself in Charles' hands and trusting him with this even when it's hard, like you know you have to earn that trust and submission in a way, it's something valuable, like Charles would probably never ask for this himself so it would always be a thing Max asks for, so its a thing Max is just offering up and giving him idk

Idk I haven't thought about this enough yet, it's still a baby concept, which is why it's probably not making total sense, even to me. It might turn out a lot different than I'm thinking now (if I do finish it, I never want to promise anything of course I have soo many wips) and I have to do like proper research about it as a real life non-fictional concept as well still bcs I like to do that to understand the psychology sometimes and not like make shit up, but yeah idk

It's one of those things between all the other things I want to still do though idk. When I tell you I have too many fledgeling wips and ideas for yours verse you can't even imagine and every time I get one done it's replaced by 2 or 3 more ideas, it's such a problem

#asks #yours verse #yours verse yapping

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localnokia · 10 months ago

Text

Elevator Hitch Genderbending rambles (part one of maybe many)

Hello! Thought I'd flex a little of my research and talk about my designs. Obviously these are pretty fluid, but yeah!

Ms. Protagonist!! Oh the miss average lady you are.... That's really the core of her: average. She dislikes standing out and prefers high pants and a jacket that's loose with little/no scaffolding. She's very obviously feminine/a woman but likes to be a lot more lowkey about it

I like the idea of her having a perm...or at least having one at one point! Maybe the Co-worker convinces her to. But her hair is rather short and a little closer to her head than c!protag's. I'm very okay with her hair being less strict to the time period, since her masc counterpart isn't :}

A general "rule" I have for genderbends is to give or take about 4 inches if you're going one way or the other. She just radiates 5'3 woman to me. I apologize. She wears a cute wedge, which gives her about an inch or two.

70's makeup was much more simple/lowkey compared to the bumper eras of the 60s and 80s. There was a lean more for natural makeup, popularizing pink tinted lip gloss and the invention of cream eye-shadows. F!PT does closer to the minimum, lip-gloss and mascara, but nothing intense.

Oh Ms. Co-worker... Oh miss ma'am...

Some people may not agree with me on this one but I cannot resist a big lady opportunity. She very much is tall and broad-shouldered, but very confidently super feminine. She's already tall but loves a good heel so she gets to be even taller. as a treat <3

She loves fashion and has more outfits than triple the years she's been alive and she wears ALL of them. She also changes her hairstyle very often. Art above is just what I think she wears for the game events.

Her makeup is the 70's STANDARD. She does the whole thing and man does she do it well.

You KNOW F!CW is all over that pastel eye-shadow oh my goodness. She can get away with more eccentric/less work appropriate make-up since she's 1) gorgeous and it fits her perfectly 2) nepo-girlboss

Some more examples!

I won't go into insane detail about how 70's makeup worked--maybe in another post, though!

Normal Gal!!

Sorry for such a more low-effort drawing haha. Didn't even get her hair the way I wanted to...

She's also ! utterly average! Which is the point I think haha. She wears a similar outfit to canon with an office skirt that doesn't hug her form much and tights with a pump potentially like this

She doesn't wear any make-up other than mascara and a lip-gloss :} there is no blush/skin/eye definition to keep that sorta flat/off feel c!normal guy has.

Her hair is inspired by this! I didn't draw it totally properly, but it's rather short with two clips on the side and asymmetrical to keep the same gestures as C!NG

Hope this was at least to fun to read ^^! Will definitely be toying with their designs etc more in the future!

#elevator hitch #genderbend #elevator hitch genderbend #my art #70s fashion

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monstersholygrail · 4 months ago

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Do you have any monster OCs? or any OCs at all? :o

You are opening Pandora’s box with this question, my love. Goodness gracious, I’m gonna put it all under the cut because the answer is yes, I have many OCs both monster, cyborg, and otherwise!

Thank you so much for asking btw, it was super sweet of you <33

If anyone would like to send in any asks about these then I’d be more than happy to talk about them 👉🏼👈🏼

Tumblr OCs

So, starting off with on my blog, I have 2 OCs! I have Demon Prist, my special boy. His story is that he is a fallen angel who is desperately trying to get back into Heaven and God’s good graces when you come into his life. He’s convinced you’re a gift from God for his devotion all these millennia as you take his pain away.

I also have Ghost bf whose name is yet to be revealed although I do have one! His story (lore drop!) is that when moving to a new city, you’re looking for an apartment and you find him! The two of you talk for weeks before agreeing to a sort of trial run. But before you can get there, Ghost bf dies and you show up to an empty apartment and you expect him to be back soon. When he reveals himself to you the two of you contact each other in weird ways and fall in love along the way.

More to come too!

Book OCs

Then I also have Monster OCs that I would like to introduce here and later possibly turn into books! The first being Wren and Emery. Wren is a bigender Eldritch monster whose favorite show is a monster hunter show where they find monsters and study them. Not actual hunting. Emery was the host of this show with her bf Jonah when a bad werewolf accident happens and Jonah kind of takes over the show. Wren decides to invite the show to his manor to essentially… catch him. All in order to help Emery. It’s very rom-com vibes. Wren and Emery are the main couple (Jonah is bad)

I have Delilah and Augustine with their friends Ivory and Sivan. I want to write their story through an anthology. It’s basically flustered vampire x bimbo human. Delilah is insanely smart, she’s a mortician ironically. But she misses a lot of things right in front of her, hence the bimbo type personality. So it’s a collection of like Augustine constantly getting caught being a vampire bc he’s not smooth or sneaky (anymore) and it just doesn’t click for Delilah. Which makes Ivory, her best friend that’s also a secret vampire, insane. She’s a hypocrite but her and Auggie have a fun dynamic.

Thirdly, I also have Zella and Senén. Sen is a hybrid wolf who ran his own mafia when his men thinks he betrayed them and the cops are on his tail. So hides as a puppy hybrid in England with an American woman named Zella who’s there looking after her sick grandmother. He has to maintain his facade even as he finds it all super demeaning. But he falls for Zella and starts getting comfortable in this new life when trouble turns its head back around on him.

Next I also have this idea for a futuristic serial fiction that would span over at least 100 chapters. It’s sci-fi fantasy. Think Nimona-ish but darker. It’s ultimately kinda cyberpunk but from the opposite perspective of it for the most part. It follows Nora or Noor and she’s in the II (Iridium Imperium) also known as the eyes. It’s a guild that protects the city like law enforcement and they’re all cyborgs with special magical gifts. Their whole city runs on guilds it’s a requirement to be in one within city limits. Only those with magical gifts can join The II. The story covers the climatic and intense downfall of The II and ultimately Nora herself as everything she’s ever known is destroyed and she’s the last to accept it if she ever really does. She has at least 3 romantic partners over the course of the series but I’m unsure if I want her to end up Ren, her enemies to lovers man from outside the city limits who understands her far too well, her ex Gio who abandoned her in order to join the resistance but always comes back for her whenever she needs him, end up with them both in a throuple, or if she should end up alone! It’s a huge world and many OCs within this world.

The working title of this next one is called Grimoire Gargoyles! It features Giselle who’s a librarian working in France at a super old library. She finds herself in the restricted section and reads out loud from a book. Accidentally releasing two French Revolution Gargoyles from their prison stuck on top of the library. Now that Francois and Bastien are free they try and leave but find themselves drawn back to Giselle. Revealing themselves to her she isn’t afraid given that monsters are a normal sight in their world. Though Gargoyles have been extinct since the Revolution. Together they work together to try and finish the spell to release them from their curse and fall in love along the way.

More include a heist trilogy with a Dragon jeweler for the King and a thief, a dryad who accidentally performs a mating ritual with an ancient dragon at a festival celebrating his supposed vanquishing, a vampire stalker who stalks a human after tasting her blood for the first time but then stops and she starts stalking him bc she’s upset he stopped stalking her, a dragon hybrid and a griffin hybrid who exchange mating symbols as kids and basically betroth themselves to each other but he’s meant to marry her sister and years later they go through the marriage trials together not knowing it’s impossible for him to marry someone else.

Other Book OCs

My oldest OCs are from last November and it’s called Crafting Constellations. It’s an elf world and all high fantasy. The first book follows Soleil and Peracles. Peracles is the heir to a Kingdom that’s only ever had female rulers and Soleil is his general. They have a forbidden romance going on and have to work together to figure out the evil plot against the crown by an unknown force. See art of them here. Its sequel features Cane, Peracles’ royal advisor and Soleil’s ex, in his heartbreak when he saves Pera from being poisoned. He gets into an enemies to lovers with Pera’s assassin named Astraea. Then the third book features the antagonist as the main character Nova and she kidnaps Viyan, a co-worker of sorts with Astraea in order to get revenge. Then I have a secondary series featuring all 4 of Peracles’ brothers with love interests. Also a prequel that’s a sapphic tragedy with Peracles mother and her own general.

Then my second oldest OCs named Prudence and Narada. It’s another sci-fi fantasy series. Prudence is a part of a faction that has the power to get into another persons mind and read it and control it. A long time ago her faction was deemed too dangerous to stay alive so they made them extinct. And for over 100 years they’ve been living in secret and pulling the strings of their entire world Janeus. Her coven sees into the future and ensures fate stays on course. So they kill the emperor of one of the empires so that his son takes over: Narada. Prue goes there, hiding her eyes as their powers are revealed through eye color. And she successfully manipulates him but they fall for each other along the way and she ends up betraying her coven and revealing herself and their plan for the young emperor. Prue is convinced that she can fix things and manipulate fate all on her own but their world slowly begins to perish and she realizes her mistake. When she gets a “chosen one” prophecy with herself as the one to defeat, she learns to accept fate and that you can’t control it as she thought.

More include a fae hunter x fae lord that’s kinda similar to Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride lol, two demons and a human working at a casino and underground fighting ring that helps them hide from the world when their pasts catch up to them, and a biblical apocalypse where the world is split into the seven deadly sins and the Lord of Greed and a man working for the Lord of Lust inadvertently work to bring the second coming of Christ.

And I’m sure there’s even more that I’ve forgotten or that have slipped my mind!! I have so many plots in my head that it’s hard to focus on any of them lol.

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good-to-drive · 5 months ago

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how would you say the fab four's self-esteem issues manifested differently, and thus affected the way they were perceived?

i was reading some comments saying how george didn't have an ego at all, while john was a complete narcissist, for example, and many people agreed but i don't think i do. what's your take? btw i love your insights <3

Thank you so much for this ask!! It’s such a fascinating question, which is why I took a little while to try to answer it well. (Also, thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoy my ramblings!! <3)

I considered breaking this up over four posts, but it's only about 2.5k words altogether, so y'know what it's fine...

JOHN

I think the question of John's self-perception (and how this manifested in his behaviors) hinges heavily on whether you think he may have suffered from borderline personality disorder.*

I once read a really poignant description of BPD (and many other personality disorders) as someone whose inner self is a “dark room," meaning that when they look inward they see only darkness and emptiness. There are things in the room – they absolutely have just as much inside of them as everyone else – but because they’ve never been able to see it they feel like some sort of empty, subhuman creature who could never possibly be loved.

Over time (and usually through therapy), the person can begin to “raise the lights”, so to speak, and see who they are on the inside and begin to develop a sense of self and identity and from there a sense of worth. Unfortunately, I think John didn't get the opportunity to do this work until late in his life, if ever. He spent most of his adult life contending with that perceived emptiness and the constant psychic pain that accompanies it, and I think that's what most defined his self-perception.

In terms of how this manifested in his behaviors, while the intensely idealized relationships often formed by people suffering from BPD largely function to reassure them that they aren’t completely and totally unloved, they can also be a way of soothing that feeling of unworthiness. The thinking is something like "At least one person thinks I’m worthy. And it’s this incredible, amazing, perfect person who’s too special for everybody else, but they’re not too special for me. And no one who's a part of something this special could truly be unlovable."

But, of course, those relationships also tend to be extremely volatile. And when the person switches their "special connection" to another person, everyone else who came before becomes a threat to this connection and therefore an enemy. And when you're on the wrong side of this kind of thing it feels exactly like malice or cruelty. So, in regards to how this defines the way John is seen by us/fans, I get why it's so tempting to frame him as a cruel or malicious person.

It's easier and perhaps more satisfying to attribute his volatile relationships to cruelty rather than a deep-seated schema of unworthiness, or to attribute his determination to be seen and loved to ego and then characterize that ego as reprehensible. But, with the benefit of time and distance, I think we can probably see that it was a way of trying to survive inside of a broken schema that put him constant psychic pain.

There's also a whole 'nother conversation about to what degree John did or didn't use his public image to self-soothe his feelings of emptiness, which actually brings me to the idea that John was a "complete narcissist."

I’m not sure if the comments you saw meant it in the reddit-y “narcissists are assholes so therefore all assholes are narcissists” kind of way, or if they mean that narcissists have insanely high opinions of themselves (which is true of neither narcissists nor John), or if they were actually using the word correctly.

But if they were using it to refer to the personality disorder, it's probably worth mentioning that people on the NPD spectrum also often struggle with those same intense feelings of unworthiness, emptiness, and self-hate. And John most likely did have some narcissistic tendencies that affected his behavior, but overall I honestly think he was more aligned with the BPD tendency to over-rely on idealizing a personal connection than the NPD tendency to use outside praise and approval as a replacement for internal self-worth.

*I recently became aware that some psychologists believe BPD is actually a form of CPTSD. I’m continuing to use the term BPD, but the truth is I’m not in a position to say whether people with BPD should more accurately be placed under the umbrella of CPTSD.

PAUL

I think the most important consideration when we look at Paul's self-perception is the fact that he most likely was on the NPD spectrum, and I genuinely think to some extent he relies on his public persona because he was denied the opportunity to develop a strong sense of self as a child.

(Off topic but it drives me fucking crazy that narcissist is slowly turning into a synonym for asshole and people with crippling childhood trauma and mental health issues now face even more of a stigma because whiny bitches on reddit couldn’t come up with a better word than “narcissist” when they were big mad. Argh.)

Okay, with that out of the way, I think in looking at Paul's self-perception we have to look back at his adolescence and take into account the fact that he was heavily burdened by his father's addiction and later his mother's death.

There's a quote from Paul about the day Mary died and Paul saying something to the effect of “What are we going to do without her money?”, which people erroneously interpret as Paul being cold (????) but I think obviously indicates a child who was pushed to take responsibility for his family’s financial problems (and by extension his father’s addiction and by extension their continued survival) from far too young an age and was existentially terrified that they wouldn't stay afloat.

(To be clear financial stress is just one tiny piece of being the child of an addict, but I think it's illustrative.)

Anyone growing up under that kind of pressure would be affected by it, and I think in Paul’s case it overwhelmed him with a sense of responsibility and corresponding fear that put his mind more on his family's survival than on himself. Which meant that as an adult he didn’t necessarily have a strong internal sense of identity to fall back on when he was experiencing internal doubts or outside criticism, and other people’s opinions became even more important to him than they are to most people.

In terms of how this manifested, I honestly think it turned him into one of the most media-savvy people I have ever seen. Which, yes, sometimes reads as performative. But for some people their feelings are realer when they’re seen. By making it public/visible they make it a part of how people see them and by extension a part of themselves.

This is also why I think it’s a little bullshit when people try to assign this duplicity to the way Paul intentionally/consciously overhauled his brand after the beatles – just because he wanted everyone to think he was Ultimate Wife Guy/Number One Dad it doesn’t mean he didn’t actually want to be that person. In fact, I think it meant that he did.

All that being said, it’s probably smart to remember that any image we see of Paul (and any other celebrity) isn't a reflection of who they are but rather of how they wanted to be perceived during that particular conversation. Every conversation has an audience, and sometimes for Paul that audience is a literal audience, and it's a little naive to treat the statements he makes publicly like some kind of unfiltered stream-of-consciousness peek into his mind rather than, y'know, public statements.

It’s not that anything he says is necessarily false, rather that things we enjoy hearing may be overrepresented, things we don't care about may be underrepresented, and it will all likely be portrayed in a way that's generally pleasing. In that way, Paul might sometimes function as a mirror to our own feelings about the beatles and their legacy (or our feelings about Paul and his legacy). I talk a little more about this in the replies here.

It kind of reminds of a quote from Marc Maron's podcast about Paul that I can't find the exact text of, but it was roughly "He's become a theme park where people go to relive their memories of The Beatles, and he's okay with that." Paul is a generous, savvy performer trying to perform something we will enjoy without totally selling out the sense of self/identity that he experiences vicariously through his public persona. So it’s both very sincere and very performative. They’re not incompatible.

GEORGE

There’s arguably some conflicting ideas about George’s self-perception, with the general fan assumption that he was overwhelmed with insecurity not really aligning with how the people around him often described him as having a strong internal sense of identity, individuality, or confidence. That being said, it can absolutely be both.

I think we in the beatles fandom tend to assume that George had terrible self-esteem because we tend to see him through the lens of the beatles (actually I guess we see them all through that lens, but it’s arguably the most limiting with George), and it just seems like common sense that if you were trying to be a songwriter in the shadow of the two greatest songwriters of all time you’d end up feeling pretty shitty about yourself.

Then, on the interpersonal level, there’s the fact that both of the people we often see as George's most important friendships (although I’m not at all sure they were the defining relationships of his life) were extremely focused on conveying to everyone around them that they preferred each other. Which is a very natural thing for a hyperidealized bond to do, btw – oftentimes people with BPD need everybody to know that their idealized bond is extremely special and their idealized person prefers them to everyone else.

(That's not to say Paul and John were friend-excluding jerks, btw. It's obvious they were very close with George, not to mention Ringo. It's just that it was probably soothing to them to perform the specialness of their relationship in front of others, to convey to people that their closeness is extreme and important and unlike anything they have with anyone else, or, indeed, unlike anything anyone else has ever had.)

But I honestly think this perception of George as someone overwhelmed with insecurity is yet another perspective on George that only really makes sense if you insist on exclusively seeing him in the shadow of the beatles. Put it up there with “George didn’t play well with others." It’s something that feels intuitively right… as long as you don’t really know anything about him that doesn’t directly involve Paul and John.

I'm not saying he was never insecure and never tried to talk shit about himself, but look at how many people described him as individualistic, confident, etc., from a very young age. Also, frankly, he just never seemed super concerned with controlling how he was perceived or searching for validation via his public image. I don’t think it’s a case of outgrowing John and Paul’s shadow, either, because apparently he was literally always like that.

I know people will immediately point to George's bids for connection in Get Back, how they sometimes took the form of "I'm bad at music" and then waiting for the "No, you're not!" and how this contrasts to Paul's bids for connection, which were more like "No one likes me" or "I'm bad at being in charge."

I have my own issues with GB (it's got every reality TV red flag under the sun) and even more issues with how it's perceived, but, yeah, this definitely points to George at that point in his life feeling a sense of musical insecurity. Or, at the very least, using his perceived musical inferiority as a bid for connection.

And it’s also probably worth noting that George really did describe himself as a “pretty good guitarist” who wrote songs that “weren’t that bad”. Which honestly doesn’t strike me as someone with horrible self-esteem (especially because he seemed basically fine with that tbh), maybe more just someone with a self-deprecating sense of humor who was self-aware about being “economy class” and didn’t think (or expect other people to think) that he was one of the best musicians of his time. But, yes, if we’re looking at him in contrast to someone like Paul who once described his musical oeuvre as the only true equivalent to Mozart, it’s obviously pretty different.

So I'm not saying we're all totally delusional when we say George seems insecure compared to the other beatles. Rather, I'm saying that his insecurity seems more like it existed against a larger backdrop of security in the self that probably came from a relatively stable childhood.

I’m semi-familiar with a difference in psychology between self-esteem issues that develop in response to childhood experiences and self-esteem issues that develop in response to things that happen when you’re an adult, and I know George joined the beatles well before he became an adult, but I honestly think it might come down to something like that. Maybe having a base/core of knowing yourself and feeling some degree of inherent value as a human being meant that while he certainly had a lot of experiences throughout adolescence/adulthood that could theoretically make him feel unworthy, it didn’t really get at the core of his being.

RINGO

With Ringo, I do question a little if his self-perception was actually that well developed when he was young. I talked about this a little bit elsewhere, but some of the stories about his childhood make me think he experienced some degree of emotional neglect that prevented him from learning how to identify and cope with his own emotions.

Which is a really common thing for people who grow up to self-soothe with alcohol – because you don’t know how to recognize your emotions you can’t even begin to cope with them, so you feel your only option is to numb them with alcohol.

(It can actually cut both ways, too – depending on how young you were when your parents realized they could shut you up with alcohol, you might have been prevented from learning how to recognize and cope with emotions by the fact that they were always being numbed. Given that he first got black-out drunk around age 9, I think this might be true for Ringo as well.)

I think in a weird way this is also why people tend to overlook Ringo and/or not have a particularly vivid image of him as a person who feels things or does things. We don’t always portray a very complex inner or emotional life in him, but obviously he has one, it’s just that for a long time he himself may not have known that he had one. And I sometimes think this perceived "blankness" (as opposed to emptiness) defined his self-perception, defined the way he was seen by the people around him -- as a blank space where they could pour out their own emotions, and now defines how we see him as fans.

Which is a little frustrating because he's been sober for over thirty years and I strongly suspect that he has a very developed sense of self and self-worth at this point in his life or he wouldn't have been able to get and stay sober for thirty fucking years. Also, frankly, even back in the day he was probably living in the same repeating prison that all addicts live in, but because he wasn't overtly aware of it he wasn't overtly expressing it and as a result we all sort of fail to see it even looking back.

(I'm not excusing myself from this either, btw. The other day I caught myself saying John and George were probably the most open to changing as people, and then I remembered that Ringo was an alcoholic until he was almost 50 years old and still managed to get and stay sober and realized I'm an asshat.)

Self-esteem issues and self-hate come rolled together with any drinking problem. It’s hard to get sober without facing what you’ve become and it’s impossible to face what you’ve become without hating yourself. I suspect Ringo has had a profound and painful journey with his own self-perception and sense of identity, I'm just not sure I know what it is. Which, yes, makes me the asshat.

All that being said, the blankness/simplicity we project onto Ringo does sometimes work in his favor. He's been very open about the fact that he considers his behavior towards his wives to be abusive, and he almost never gets called on it the way beatles fans call out John, and I suspect it's partly because we insist on seeing so much more complexity and importance and frankly more humanity in John's story than in Ringo's.

#ask #the beatles #george harrison #paul mccartney #john lennon #ringo starr #longer rambles

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cupidsdescendant · 1 year ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you could write a NSFW one shot of Sniper x F!reader? Perhaps one about him having a breeding kink?

Thank you!

(Ps: I have so many ideas for one-shots and etc, so if you'd like, I can dump a list of ideas for you!)

-Jarate Anon

hey Jarate anon! Yeah of course I'd love to do some hc's, I've been getting asks for a Feverish Lust part 3 so I'll be working on more works with Sniper :)!

NSFW Sniper Hc's (Breeding Kink Edition)

-When it comes to his kinks he's extremely quiet about them, he's actually really nervous to tell you that he's into breeding and getting you pregnant (mostly cus he's scared you'll be angry or tell him she doesn't want to be pregnant)

-But whenever you guys have sex all he can imagine is cumming deep into your womb and you holding a pregnancy test

-Soon enough he'll be honest and you accept him which riles him up so much he's already hard

-"R-really, Sheila?" He says with heavy breaths. God how he wants to grab you and fuck you instantly. "You're not mad?" "No not at all" You say with a grin.

-Ever since that day he's been way more excited than usual, both of you might have sex maybe once every 4 months but it became having sex every other week.

-He's gotten way more violent because of it and has been going faster leaving you more of a wreck. "That pretty pussy is all mine ain't it? I get to fill it up with me don't I?"

-The thought of you with a bump on your stomach and you lactating through your shirt makes him burst, he cums easily after the image of that

-"Does this make you Mrs.Mundy?" He says with a chuckle as he releases his load into you. Whenever you have an orgasm he likes to pinch your nipples tightly, pretending like there's milk squirting out

-After the session he likes to fall asleep to the sweet dreams of your guy's kids, running around and him picking them up and looking at all the features and traits they got from you

-He hates condoms with a burning passion, all he wants is to get you pregnant each time <3!

-He loves the idea that his sperm is holding the blueprint to your future kids and that maybe this time he'll be able to get you pregnant.

-He's insanely protective over you because of that. "Y/N, you're staying mine as long as I'm in ya. You got that, You got that??? You promise?" He growls as he bites your neck

-His thoughts are so intense he has to squeeze or bite down on some part of your body to keep him from cumming so quickly, knowing that he might fill your belly up with his sperm. To know that if he did he'd be the father to your kids it's just all too much!!

sorry this one is kind of short anon, I couldn't think of too much but thank you for the ask! (I might come back and edit some stuff if I'm feeling it.) see yall later!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 sniper #team fortress sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 x reader #team fortress headcanons

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touchlikethesun · 8 days ago

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Hello, SVSSS fan! Can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from SVSSS? And why you loved them? Also, your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks 🤩

hello anon <3333 thank you for such a lovely question i love talking about svsss so much (i am so annoying to my irl friends about svsss omg)

SO basically i am quite basic but for fav characters...

luo binghe <3 my bpd king <3 i love binghe so much it is genuinely concerning. a huge part of it come from how relatable i find him, so many times while i was reading the novels he would put words to things i had been feeling but hadn't been able to find the words or wasn't brave enough to say out loud. it is probably more concerning that i relate to that little ball of trauma but it is what it is... relatablity aside, i just also think he is such a.... precious person... i love his intensity, i love that he's a bit of a liar and a bit manipulative, i love how intelligent he is, and i love his resiliency. i wish he didn't HAVE to be resilient, i really want only good things for bingbing but i still think his strength is admirable. also his hair. he has really nice hair. and his glowing eyes. that is also a very nice quality of his. i could go on but. i will spare you...

airplane-bro, the lunatic that he is - i've said it before but airplane is the reason why i picked up svsss in the first place, i find the idea of an author trapped in their own novel just infinitely fascinating, the metaness of it, literally the metaphysical-ness of it, and i so badly wanted to see what airplane's character would be like. and then i met him. pathetic wet hamster of a man that he is. i think of all the crazy svsss characters, airplane might actually be the craziest. which kinda makes sense bc all the other characters contain part of airplane's craziness, but airplane the man himself has it all in one. of all the characters, he probably makes me laugh the most, he's just so irreverent, and the tired "over it" millennial energy is so strong with him. and then i do have a soft spot for characters that don't even realise just how strong they are, like sqh considers himself a coward, but i think he's one of the most fearless characters in the novel. anyways. i do reread the airplane extras extremely frequently.

shen..... yuan..... i had to think about this because i really like shen jiu as well and honestly for me it is a bit hard to separate them in my mind because shen jiu has such an impact on shen yuan's life as shen qingqiu, he is the definition of haunting the narrative. however ultimately, when i do separate them, i do like shen yuan's character just ever so slightly more. i do really love shen yuan as well, for as much as he frustrates me when i am reading the novel (boy let the harem thing goooooo ffs), i hold him as similarly precious as i do binghe <3 i think he is such a fundamentally good person, and similar to airplane, he really genuinely does not realise how unique he is and how much he is loved and valued by those around him. i love feeling how deeply he feels across the text, even tho he refuses to admit it out loud, i love how bitchy and bratty he gets when he's actually comfortable around someone, and i love how much he actually loves pidw (he does okay) and how excited he gets every time he meets a new character or monster, i just think it's incredibly cute. he's also insane. and if you can't tell i love insane men. (in fiction)

to round out the list it has to shen jiu, as i said up above. i think mxtx writes vilains incredibly well, and shen jiu in particular is really compelling to me. i think he is a horrible man, an incredibly sad and cruel man, and what makes him all the more compelling is that he keeps choosing to be that way. i think in pidw he is not even a foil to luo bingge and more like a direct parallel, an example of the cycle of abuse. someone was cruel to shen jiu, so he is cruel to luo bingge, and then bingge kills him. and when i say that he chooses to be cruel, it is not that i don't recognise his trauma, the way that he learned that there was no point in defending himself because no one would believe him anyways, the way that living on the streets taught him that the world was kill or be killed, that yue qi abandoning him taught him that he couldn't depend on anyone, all of that can be true, but he also had many chances to turn a new leaf to choose to be better, but he was so trapped and so hurt that he couldn't. i find him interesting to think about, i find it interesting to try and explain the enigma that is shen jiu. and i also really like imagining aus where somehow, by some miracle, he makes a different choice.

as for my top five favourite moments, this will be in no particular order, just as i think of them on the spot, if you asked me tomorrow you'd very likely get a different list because there are just so many good moments.

the moment in the holy masoleum where shen qingqiu has been dragging binghe as vines are growing out of his skin and then binghe wakes up and shen qingqiu is uncontrollably crying from pain and stress

in the extras when shang qinghua is asking bingqiu questions about their relationship and shen qingqiu soothes luo binghe's anxieties as easy as breathing

luo binghe's "as long as you don’t leave me" line (AND THEN SQQ DOES!!! SCREAMING)

every single second of airplane’s extra but especially the last line "it was just that he very much liked this story he’d written" i’m tearing up thinking about it now

white lotus bunhe pretending to be clumsy so shen qingqiu would hold him

literally just the first 5 that came to mind but i could already go for another 5 there are so many gems in svsss omg

thanks so much for the question!

#thanks again!#if i’m not mistaken you left another q i’m planning on answering tonight or tmrw but pls don’t be upset if i take a bit longer #currently drowning under work but it’s ✌️#gwen gets an ask #svsss #luo binghe #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #bingqiu

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halfetirosie · 4 months ago

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😂❤️🏝️ Pure Dumb Fun and Romcom Nonsense 🏝️❤️😂

(Exercise 07 - 09 React-os!)

1) I truly adore the running joke about Eiden's infamous naming skills 😂

Like, the second they hear an unnecessarily long, cringey name, they just know who is to blame.

2) PFFFFT! 🤣🤣🤣

Eiden over here being so horny that he forgot that Quincy built like a goddam brick wall---

3) THE EMOTION MUSIC OVER THIS PART IS SENDING MEEEEE 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

"Trouble-averse ass...."

Eiden, babes. This might be an intense sports competition, but it really isn't that serious...

4) QUINCY USING THE POWER OF HUGS!!!

I'm so fuckin jealous!!!

As long as you're not barreling towards him top-speed, I bet Quincy Hugs™ are top tier. I've said it many times, and I'll say it again---I WANT TO GIVE QUINCY A HUG, I JUST KNOW HE GIVE THE BEST HUGS EVER---so Eiden better be fully appreciative!

Lucky bastard!!! 😤😤😤

5) I'm convinced the Devs are trying to kill us all with these visual gags---

(Side note---On a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that they only made Quincy's SSR holding a bottle in order to include this particular visual gag during the story event? :D)

6) S....STINKY FIEND....

GET DUNKED ON, DANTE!!!! 😂😈

I love it when Eiden responds to Dante's Tsundere Bullshit™ with an Uno Reverse card and they just end up arguing in the dumbest way possible! ♡♡♡

And my boi Dante is always getting stuck with the absolute worst nicknames---ala Lord Jackass---and it's just so beautiful!!! 🤣🤣🤣

It's like everyone silent agree that this guy, this lil' fucker right here, shall forever be the #1 target for teasing!!!

7) PFFFFFT!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

♡♡♡ CRINGEFAIL DORITOMAN, MY BELOVED!!! ♡♡♡

Leave it to Dante to grab Eiden's ass completely by accident!

The sudden realization tho..... It's a work of art.....

This is the most Aggressively Anime-Tropey thing I have ever seen....

(It's like that part where I guy trips and ends up grabbing a girl's boobs... Except, you know, gayer.)

8) Morvay, sweetie, you're not helping the situation....

Okay but, it's safe to assume that there's some children in the audience of this event, right? Is it okay for him to be calling attention to this "licentious" situation??? (I know that kids probably wouldn't even know what that word means, but some of the older ones could figure it out by context clues....)

9) Danteeeee, my Touch-Starved King!!!!!

He's basically an overgrown kid experiencing his first crush, not sure how to even function, and it's SO FUCKIN CUTE!!!

LOOK AT HIM!!!!

Babes is so flustered that he's pulling An Edmond and blaming his feelings on Eiden.... IT'S SO ENDEARING I, I CAN'T HANDLE IT...

10) This is not important at all, but somehow I can vividly picture Eiden absolutely dominating at high school dodgeball 😎

He's just got that scrappy energy to him---I picture him as a well-liked social butterfly that everyone knew, and had insane skills at the most random things like dodgeball....Is that too specific? Just me? Bah, whatever. It's just fun to imagine.

( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

11) I suspect that if we made a drinking game after every time some pulled A Father during this event (suddenly attempting to block someone's nudity/compromising pose), we'd all get severe alcohol poisoning..... 😅

Nah but, didn't Eiden create this swimsuits/outfits? Why the fuck did he choose a material that gets see-through when wet??? When they would be competing in front of a huge crowd?????

Seems like a severe oversight...

12) OHHHHH, okay, that makes more sense!

I'm sorry for doubting your honor, Eiden!

I guess they loaded the water balloons with a special potion that causes the transparency.

Still unsure if that was a good idea, but okay bubs.... 🤷‍♀️

13) Eiden's heroic sacrifice! 😂😂😂

Bless Garu's little heart, he's such an angel!!!! 😂😂😂 Whole-heartedly reassured Eiden over something so dumb and sillyyyy!!!!

14) Yeah.... I was rooting for my boi Dante, but I could see this coming 😅

I mean, our dude basically flashed his butt to everyone, so I suppose he deserves a win for all of that trouble 😅😅😅

15) EIDEN, YOU'RE SUCH A CHAMP!!! AN ABSOLUTE TROOPER!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

If I had a nickel for every time Eiden exposed himself to a group of people in order to spare a clan member's dignity, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

(First during Fanciful Capriccio--sparing Dante in the story of The Emperor's New Clothes--and then now. Expect, During Fanciful Caprissio they were stuck in an illusion, so technically the crowd wasn't real, but I think it still counts.)

🏝️ End of report! 🏝️

#nu carnival #nu: carnival #nu carnival event reactions #nu carnival eiden #nu carnival morvay #nu carnival quincy #nu carnival dante #nu carnival garu

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skishie · 7 months ago

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omga i love your airphone gijinkas

anyways i uave no idea if youve already said this somewhere ,my memory sucks ,but how do you reckon airy and mephone met. what is ur perosnal headcanon. grabby hands i must know (i love airphon

UUWAAAA THANK YOU !!! im really glad you do... looks up at you so politely and with a big smile.. i want to draw them again but better and more like a ref so hopefully soon! :D aaaatehee heeee i have not spoken about it publicly so im more than open to go into it now... cracks my knuckles(its actually not that intense but i jsut have a lot of thoughts)

OKAY, so personally i like to think about it starting after airy dies the second time(the end of ONE). its nice for him to still have gone through everything hes done and experienced because its what makes him him. he needs to be the airy we know and love. this also allows for bonding and growth and other such things. anyways, he uses the radio and ends up in the world of inanimate insanity! this would also take place after season 3 has wrapped up, either before or after the library is built. this means he can meet mephone and they can start bonding over being hosts of game shows but as airy talks mephone starts to understand "wow he just like me, but i got better, and now i want to help him" so mephone feels this need to help airy out with the same growth that mephone jsut went through. but also anyone whos been through the isolation that airy has been through along with dying who knows how many times. mephone just wants to help him and help his mental state and get him resocialized and to a point where he understands why he should be a bit more thoughtful or so on and whatever. airy would still be his old self but a bit more caring/understanding to a degree. i think hes just got some mental problems going on and hes just kind of an odd guy. mephone lets him hang around and either they could MAYBE? co host together, but at first hes just watching mephone do a show first before anything like that. which he watches from afar. hes not so used to being upclose or even being around people anymore so he likes to watch from a distance. as time goes on yada yada mephone would develop feelings first, and airy would much later. mephone would develop feelings while helping airy and such, airy takes a lot longer because he is readjusting and just, getting some basic social skills back. i like them in part because i just see mephone having gone through the growth he went through because he was similar to airy, and then meeting airy after this and realizing "wow i should help him too because this is just how i was and id hate to see someone else suffer the way i did" kind of thing and blah blah idk sorry i yapped and i hope any of this makes sense/is readable period. i ramble a lot and my thoughts kind of get lost oops. im not great with words or wording things well. not everything is thought out but those are my thoughts :] ps: airy still has the cracked head because thats just how i personally like to see him and draw him. i also think that if he died and came back that after all hes done, thats more akin to who he is now. hes a broken individual who needs help/fixing. if that makes sense(also a bit of self projecting) pps: my boyfriend wanted to add his two cents for what he knows of mephone as well(hes not finished season 3 yet) and yknow,,, hes right i think its a mix of what i said and mix of what he said... which is: "wow he just like me for real, not anymore though, also this guy's committed some major fucked up stuff and that's just not right, if i fix this guy maybe it'll look really good for me"

#airphone #ask #emmkittycat #sorry i went off omg ive just had most things pent up inside of me #ive talked somewhat in private to friends but no ones as crazy as i am yet #please feel free to ask me more things or send requests for them or literally anything #dm/pm me idk im hungry for more content and talking about them in general i need the juices i NEED AIRPHONE #ii mephone4 #hjfone airy #i fucking hate this site... trying to get a read more tab thing to work is HELL OMG

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lesharl-eclair · 1 year ago

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strollonso fic recs pt 2: authors

4 amazing writers whom i am Watching for strollonso content. may or may not be their primary output, but whatever they have is certified delicious. apologies if you've read these many many times just take it as classic literature ;))

[part 1]

all fics below the cut; if you enjoyed these fics, please show the authors comment and kudo love; should you be the author of a fic that's here, and don't want to be here, please reach out to me and your wish is my command :)

@alpaine:

a strollonso pioneer (these works were written in 2022!) somehow i do not detect a single trace of rancid vibes. almost jarringly wholesome. very good :)

something in the air (T, <1k)

Fernando Alonso keeps complimenting Lance. It's weird. He's not going crazy, it's weird, right?

this is delicious (fernando Knowing and Choosing to praise lance knowing full well what it does to him........) short and sweet. a little glimpse into interactions that are dizzying to think about.

game misconduct (T, 2.6k)

**BREAKING NEWS 🚨** Alonso to the Canadiens. The return is still being worked out, but expect an official team announcement by the end of the day. “Fuck,” Lance exhaled.

the author really said "i love fanfic because i can write fernando alonso as brad marchand and no one can stop me" and i am compelled. compelled. i think the inherent homoeroticity of ice hockey really helps matters.

"holy shit, alonso" basically encapsulates this fic so well -- all the characters really come through and meld so well despite it being a different sport, and the strollonso is given the space to shine.

***

2. @wewentcarracing:

for me this is the essence of strollonso. little else comes close :")

silver platter (E, 9.7k)

Lance is well aware that the first word people typically associate him with is "spoiled". He's fine with it. Well; not fine, maybe, but mostly past the point of caring. He's not delusional about it, either. He's gotten more or less everything he's ever wanted, and he wouldn't have any of it without his father. If that makes him soft or weak or a brat or anything else people like to throw at him—whatever, fine. It's a nice life. He can also admit to himself that it's left him kind of ill-equipped for knowing exactly what he wants but not having any idea how he's supposed to get it.

if there is one strollonso fic to read, let it be this.

i adore the way this author does characterisation it is actually insane. the sheer intensity of nando. the way he puts his pussy into it. the magnetic charm and easy confidence. ESTEBAN AS A CHARACTER. and lance oh my goddddd the way you write lance is breathtaking. rich child mindset? how he isn't spoilt per se but there's still this lingering attitude at the back of his mind??? spot on.

also possessive nando might just be my favourite thing: “Let them hear. Why not?” Fernando says, voice rough and low and close enough to Lance’s ear that Lance can feel it against his skin. “Let them see what I do to you.”

all teeth (E, 3k)

Fernando has always been able to play with his food for a long time before he's too hungry to resist it.

this one i am actually addicted to. i have reread it an embarrassing number of times. pOSSESSIVE NANDO. and lance not being as naive as one might expect. the attention to detail here is insane (the parallels between the before and during....... the metaphors.....) the vibes here are like the richest dark chocolate cake. decadent and fantastic and so so rewarding.

***

3. @vicsy:

so much tenderhorny introspection. excellent character studies.

snapshots (M, <1k)

The photos Fernando keeps on his phone always tell a different story.

it's poetry, is what it is. short and sweet and the scenes it proposes are so fitting and immersive, a tiny glimpse into just how deep their relationship runs.

little flame, consume my hate (M, 17.6k, wip 1/2)

The problem at hand is that Lance can't bring himself to care enough — about his father's wishes, about his fate as the future king, as a ruler of a kingdom standing on a shaky foundation; about slaying a dragon who hasn't scorned him in any way. Even the thought of not coming back and perishing on this unwanted quest doesn’t instill as much fear. He has everything and thousands would wish to be in his place, but his life feels empty and artificial; lacking a spark or a purpose. Or: Lance is a knight who’s sent by his father, the king, on a quest to slay a dragon in order to prove himself. Instead of a mighty beast Lance stumbles upon a peculiar man named Fernando who wears a lavish robe and spends most of his time reading. Or so it seems.

this was such a fun read!! i really admire this author's scene-setting ability, everything is so balanced, detail-rich and a pleasure throughout. also also also also the au/worldbuilding....so much love mwah mwah <3 even through 17k words the narrative is well-paced and well-timed, and really drew me in :) simultaneously scared and excited for part 2!

shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) (M, 1.5k)

For all of Lance’s naivety, for how easily he follows down that narrow path, it’s a rush no money can buy. A touch here, a not-so-friendly pat there, a show of teeth in a smile that is lethal and Lance knows Fernando wants a taste, craves to do so much more, something unspeakable, something that could turn into the nastiest paddock gossip to this day but it’s exhilarating — knowing he does that to a man by simply existing. Knows that, maybe, he wants it, too.

this needs to be framed and hung up somewhere, i think. author's way with words is insane - the almost dreamlike quality of how lance is blown away by nando again and again, the jarring difference between lance's perceptions and the reality are rendered so beautifully here. a character study to remember.

***

4. @merenwenformulauno:

you make nando suffer sO MUCH... ....... but i'm still here for it <3

Between Gravel Traps (series) (E, 3-5k per part)

It starts in Budapest, then Spa. Then Zandvoort, then Monza.

i think this took me a few reads to truly wrap my head around. the quality is pretty damn impressive and the potential is insane - a relationship that's a little rough around the edges, but still so distinctly Them. nando brute forcing (?) (there is no way that's the right word) his way into lance's affection is something i definitely did not expect, but plausible and lovely nonetheless. i love the way it's slowly growing into a race by race thing, looking forward to more!

against the clock (E, 28.5k)

fernando is a cop. lance is the wildcat behind the wheel of a bus that can't drop under 50kpm or a bomb goes off. a normal way to fall in love.

i had been putting off reading longfic for sooooo long you had no idea. this one kind of snapped me out of it !! a very masterfully done speed au. (loved all the little references but i will not go into detail bcs i dont want to spoil it here) this author has a penchant for suffering methinks. this work is still unfairly riveting despite all the pain, and the deliciousness of bonding through trauma is UNMATCHED.

***

that's all for today and thank you for reading to the end of this very lengthy rec list hee hee....there's actually so much more to this growing corner of ao3 so keep an eye out for more amazing works!!

if you enjoyed this, or if i missed any fic, please let me know :) drop me an ask mayhaps if you would like more fic recs, and i will try my best to give timely unqualified opinions <3

#f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso #lance stroll #strollonso #claire's fic recs #claire rambles

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dislyteshack · 6 months ago

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Another day another slaying

Inch of Time chapter 3 came out today!!!

Gods, everything burned. He needed time to recover.

Rolling to his side it was an effort to even get out of bed.

When checking the clock, Chu Yao noticed he'd gotten up earlier than he should have. It was 2 am.

More time to figure out the loops, he supposed.

He skipped the tea this morning, it was too early either way and… The memory of his previous death was sorely fresh. He instead opted for an early shower.

He mused, where he bathed was an obvious way for his killer to end him. But one of the few patterns he noticed was they'd often wait until the end of the day to strike.

�� Clearly this would be going nowhere without outside help and yet… Who could he turn to? He was a man of many friends and many followers, but few true allies.

Even someone like Chu Yao claiming to be trapped in a time loop would come off as lunacy… Unless…

He gritted his teeth at the thought.

Why would he need to demean himself by seeking her aid?

Perish the thought, it need not happen. He focused on the running of water instead rather than the idea before.

‘But it does, doesn't it?’

His subconscious told him as he attempted to cleanse himself of his impurities, parts of them clinging to his skin even as the intensity of his cleaning rose.

‘Doing the same set of actions over and over, it leads to insanity, does it not?’

… It does. Even now he felt the burn of his vices, no matter how hard he claimed none gripped his soul.

After all these years, would Raven even offer him aid? Of course she would; She was a good person. One of loyalty, even at opposing ends.

Chu Yao still scoffs at the idea of her offer to join the union. Her willingness to go through and overcome every obstacle, explore every possible outcome; and still offer an olive branch all so they could attempt to reforge whatever relationship they had left.

Yes… Her compassion had never changed over the years he had known her, and he had once feared that that stubbornness would one day be detrimental to her.

And now, he was the first one to offer up communication, much to his admitted dismay.

He pondered, slowly rising from the bath to eventually finish. Though the raid was costly it would undoubtedly provide an opportunity.

With that same intensity there was one last attempt to rinse the stench of defeat from himself. A decision was made.

He'd had to waste at most five today's to figure out where she was. Anytime he spotted Raven it always seemed like she was in a different location than when he last observed her.

Today was different, when first approaching Odin's chosen he was met with one of her mutts. He was positive the beast had gotten larger than when he had seen it prior- and it was as happy to see him as he was to see it once more. Which, given the bared fangs of the creature, wasn’t very much at all.

“Impressive, this was one of the outcomes I wasn't expecting.” Raven observed him, hand placed between the wolf’s ears and causing its snarling to cease. Its judgemental stare still bore into him.

So it would seem then, he stayed silent.

Maybe it was out of pride, a way for him to regain what he'd already lost from having to seek out help this way. Or perhaps he was unable to think of a response, when usually there were always words Chu Yao could say to sway any conversation in his favour. Not here, however. Only a burning level of indignation that he had to stoop to this level.

Here they were both equal knights on a chessboard rather than any one of them controlling the pieces.

“... If you're looking to talk, don't you think a raid isn't the best place?”

He gazed around, did she think he was foolish enough to remain speaking with her in this environment?

“I would agree, I'd be willing to talk at 7 if you would indulge me.”

“As long as it's partially on my terms, back here then?”

If it being on for your terms is what you believe will help then, he thought bitterly

“As you wish.”

When he'd agreed to meet in that same location, Chu Yao had to admit he was almost expecting a trap of sorts.

Raven may have been a suspect he was saving for last, but a suspect no less.

The only problem… Her powers held no sway over time. She could only view a series of events passively, not tear someone back from their death to the dawn of the same day.

“Now this is what I expected. What Is this situation of yours?”

He explained it to her as candidly as he could. No matter what details there were, he never left them out. He was blunt with them. Although Chu Yao left out the wonton torture of his subordinate, as that part was wholly unnecessary information in this predicament.

“It was only after their questioning, did they reveal I'd suspected the wrong person. All I ask is for my future, if this repeating day is all there will ever be to it.”

Raven's expression was cool, perhaps it was just because she predicted what he would say. Or just because she was always understanding, that compassion of hers.

She briefly closed her eye and not too long later she began to speak.

“It won't be all there ever is,

One day will eventually turn to the next.

But one constant in this future?

As long as you give up control, the next day will come.”

As long as he gave up control? He recalled a handful of her prior prophecies, although they were never as vague as this.

“Is that all?”

“Has something I’ve said upset you?”

She had reason to conceal information, yes, but-

“That can’t be all. What are you hiding?”

“Mm, you don’t think what I’ve given you is valuable information?” Raven asked, patient despite the man’s haughty assertion. “I need to keep my cards close to my chest just as you do yours.”

Chu Yao remained silent, his displeasure visible but fully aware pushing would only serve to impede his efforts.

“If you’re done pouting, may I continue?”

He responded with continued silence, an unspoken yes.

“Surrender is your only option; Only you can break this cycle.

Expect even the most unexpected betrayals,

Don't fall for easy traps as you did recently.”

"Recently you say? Are you suggesting this is a trap?”

"Is that your only conclusion? I’m working with what information you’ve provided me with. It’s your duty to use what I’ve given you to free yourself from this web- only you can.”

Oh, even if she doesn't have the divine power to do so the connections are there…

“Not my assassin, not whoever has put this into motion. Me, you say? I’m close to guessing you’re just poking fun at me now.”

When reopening her eye, Raven only sighed- almost scoffed, even.

“Believe me when I say I only wish to help you.”

He’ll do just this once then, Chu Yao would know how to find her eventually. For all her foresight, she won't remember the next today.

He was ready that night as he returned from that meeting. Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement through his office window, almost entirely concealed in the darkness.

This time he was the one to strike first.

He used a spell to transport himself instantaneously into his office before putting his fate in it’s hands the moment he swung with his dagger-

It pierced an intruder’s shoulder successfully-

A light gasp escaped and before the second swing-

Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement through his office window, almost entirely concealed in the darkness.

This time he was the one to strike-

… He hadn’t even died yet!? How-

It doesn't matter now as he burst through the door and swung at the hooded figure in the room-

Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement—-

…. This was the case of divine power. He could feel it the closer he was to his office.

Rather than swinging he went for the hood the figure had and underneath-

It was just what looked like a esper he couldn't recognize, brown hair and glowing golden orbs as some kind of imitation for eyes. Nothing else they wore would have suggested that they were the one killing him all these times. It was all stays and layers of petticoats.

"Sorry - I took personal offence to last today, so they're letting me get a kill in this time.” Even unmasked, they seemed entirely unperturbed by Chu Yao’s discovery of them. “I just wanted to know what it's like to act instead of directing from the sidelines.”

“Who?-”

They paused for a moment as if a polite introduction would change the tone of the interaction.

“Aion’s Protege, no need to know any info beyond that.”

From their skirt pockets a glint of light flickered as they produced an item.

A crossbow-

“Or well… Esper.”

He dodged this time, he wouldn't allow himself to be bested once again by them. More so now that he'd just unmasked his assassin.

The steel arrow lodged itself deeply into one of the back walls of the office, displaying just how much power this compact crossbow was actually packing. Barely a moment to register the lining up of another shot, narrowly avoiding another barrage as adrenaline kept his feet moving.

This dance of attempted shots and swings eventually ended when he struck once in their side—

He didn't need to notice whatever was in the window he just burst in and ripped off the mask-

“I didn't appreciate that, you know.”

He didn't care.

“Why accept then-” through attempted shots the thought slipped out. Even if they were hired there had to be a reason.

This time he aimed for the throat-

He's struck for once in the chest barely missing his vitals. Despite the sloppy aim of the intruder, whatever looping abilities the esper had was working only in their favour.

"Oh, you're right! I have no reason to go after you, you should ask my benefactor about their reasons to hire me-”

Again another arrow pierces flesh and bone through his stomach, possibly cracking the spine. That one caused him to fall over and lose his balance.

They quickly approach him just to pull out the arrows with efficiency courtesy of their own power. As soon as the piercing instruments were removed the wounds opened up, blood freely spilling the punctures over his body. The sharp tips scraping fresh lacerations over his flesh and through internal organs.

The final ammunition lodged in his chest seemed… Fond of its location, and as the assailant yanked at the shaft it caught on bone and Chu Yao raised slightly off of the ground with it.

“Oh, sorry.” Both the arrow and Chu Yao fell back to the ground when it didn’t give way, the ‘apology’ frankly being more hurtful than the removal attempt.

They grabbed hold of the arrow with both hands, heel on Chu Yao’s chest to keep him on the floor and pulled with all their might.

It caused some additional cracks in some bones and the arrowhead came out with some additional scraps of flesh, but it was out!

Oh yes. He was *so* overjoyed at their success. Perhaps this was the most embarrassing death so far.

They did seem to be pleased with the outcome, with how they begin to muse of a different topic as if one of them wasn't currently bleeding out

“I knew the Seven had wealth, but I never thought much about it til I got my first Nexus crystals.”

Blood continued to pool uninhibited again, Chu Yao could swear something in him was paralyzed when the vice grip he had previously on his dagger loosened.

“You’re really good at staying alive, I have to admit-“ they commented, leaning down. “Like a cockroach…”

Were they… Bored?

“All right, we're ending this. Have my debriefing and all that boring crap to do after this.”

He feels hands on the side of his head for a moment, he’s raised for easier access to his neck and before Chu Yao could look -

-SNAP-

#dislyte #dislyte chu yao #raven dislyte #dislyte fanfic #fanfiction

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