#literally every inner monologue is this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eldritch-spouse · 7 months ago

Note

You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

1K notes · View notes

sceletaflores · 1 year ago

Text

A Small Favor.

part one!

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: the stress of his new job is taking a toll on mike. he did such a good job helping you out, so you decide to repay the favor.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+! MDNI! oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal fingering, handjobs, heavy on the praise, munch!mike always.

authors note: the heavily heavily HEAVILY requested part two is finally done. (quite literally wrote this instead of listening to my bio lecture) i still can't believe that fic has gotten so much traction, i hope this one measures up! it got waaaay more angsty near the end than i thought it would hehe also i decided to include everyone commenting under part one requesting part two in the taglist of this fic so you're welcome lol mwah <3

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧

It had been one week and three days since the couch incident, which is what you’ve lovingly taken to calling whatever happened between you and Mike. One week and three whole days of Mike dancing around you and the elephant in the room.

The morning after the couch incident he practically ran out the door taking Abby to school when you tried to bring it up. The next time you attempted to have “the talk” he stuttered out an excuse before retreating to the safety of his bedroom, so you gave up.

You know that there’s something between Mike and you that crosses the line of just friends, you both felt something change that night, but getting him to face his feelings and actually admit that will take work.

It's another night of sitting on Mike's couch mulling over what to do about the whole situation when you hear the front door open. You're shocked at first, usually you're asleep by the time Mike gets home. Sure enough when you check the clock it reads 6:33 in bulky red characters. Apparently, time flies when you're obsessing over how to get your friend turned complicated-accidental-one-night-stand to admit they have feelings for you.

You try (and fail) not to listen in on every move Mike makes in the kitchen, fighting to keeping your gaze trained on the TV as he makes his way to the living room.

In your eyes peripheral vision you see him begin to make his way to the couch, but he hesitates when his eyes fall on you. He awkwardly hovers between the two rooms for a few seconds until he takes a breath and walks over to the couch.

Mike sits next to you on the couch with a soft grunt. You wrestle with the need to look at him fully, but you can see out of the corner of your eye he's taken off his work boots and vest. His hair is sticking out at weird angles, curls frizzy and unruly. Your hand twitches against your thigh with the want to run your fingers through them.

You can feel your heart beat faster, struggling to sit still in the thick tension surrounding the two of you. You flick your eyes back to the TV in a vain attempt to focus on anything other than Mike.

Eventually, you lose the fight with your screaming inner monologue and chance a sideways glace in his direction. You're beyond surprised to find him already looking at you.

You stare back, a deer caught in headlights. The dim light coming from the TV highlights his eyes. Mike opens his mouth to seemingly break the silence but he stops himself short of actually speaking. You can see him fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.

It’s silent for a beat before you decide to speak up.

“Hi.” You say, it's a whisper but you might have well just yelled with how it cuts into the air between the two of you. Mike lets out what might be laugh, it sounds forced. "Hi." He replies stiffly.

"Home later than usual." You point out, fidgeting with your nail. Mike's home a little after 6: everyday, him being home 30 minutes late is odd.

Mike nods, he lets his head fall onto the back of the couch allowing his eyes to slip closed as he does. "Yeah," He replies, the position of his head allows you to get your greedy fill of his sharp jawline. "Jobs been hell."

You don't respond, but you know. Mike's been haggard recently, and not just because of the couch incident. The bags under his eyes have gotten worse, he's been forgetful, not to mention how much more neurotic and paranoid he's been.

Mike has been a wreck these past couple of days, and you want nothing more than to help him feel good. If not for just a few minutes.

You take a chance, and move to let your hand rest over his jean clad thigh. Mike tenses up immediately but doesn’t move to run or push your hand off.

"I could help you,” You say quietly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. Mike's wide eyes flit rapidly between your eyes and lips. “Help you relax…” You trail off, voice barely above a whisper.

Your offer hangs heavy in the silence that settles. Mike just stares at you, after a while you start to regret making such a bold move. There’s an apology’s on the tip of your tongue, but when you start taking your hand off Mikes thigh he quickly grabs your wrist.

Your eyes snap back up to meet Mikes. His pupils are blown out, black encompassing warm brown. His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip.

“You can...” Mike says simply, guiding your hand back to his thigh. Only he places it much higher up, high enough that you can feel the rough metal of his zipper brushing against the tip of your pinkie. "I need it." He breathes out desperately, eyes big and pleading. You allow yourself a second to just watch Mikes face before you start to move with a purpose.

You snake your hand lower, finding the already hard length of his cock through the rough material of his jeans. Mirroring what he did to you those ten days ago, you start to grind the heel of your hand against him.

Mike shudders, eyes fluttering shut at your touch. You can physically see tension slowly exit his body, leaving him slack and relaxed enough to sink deeper into the couch cushions.

The sight of him at ease and comfortable lights a fire in you. You feel a deep primal need to care for him, to make him feel good.

Patience wearing thin, you reach for the button of his jeans. Even in your arousal induced haste, you take a beat to appreciate the swell of Mike's cock pressing up against the denim. If this was any other time, you'd want to draw it out. To tease Mike until he can't take it anymore, but now is not any other time.

You pop the button to Mike's jeans, dragging the zipper down swiftly and pulling the flaps of his jeans open to frame his lewdly tented boxers. You can hear Mikes breath hitch, unable to keep from squirming under your intense gaze. The thin material leaves nothing to the imagination, the length and girth of him on display. There's a growing wet patch near the tip that's turned the light blue fabric dark and slick. An ache starts deep in your core, anticipation making you feel warm all over.

Slowly, you tug his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and smack up against his stomach. "Ah! Shit," He hisses, hands balling up into fists by his sides.

Mike's dick is perfect. A nice length and girth you know will have your jaw aching in the best way later. The tip a soft pink color, and steadily leaking a stream of pre-come.

"I want to blow you," You say softly, getting close to Mike so your lips brush over his ear with every word. He shivers, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan. "Will you let me?"

Mike nods his head frantically. "Please," He pants, chest rising and falling quickly. "Please, I want it."

His begging is music to your ears.

You slide off the couch, kneeling between Mike's spread thighs. His straining cock makes your mouth water in anticipation. Holding the base in your hand, you lean forward to lick a board stripe from root to tip. Moaning at the heady taste and velvety feel of him on your tongue.

"God." Mike groans at the feel of your tongue.

You pull off with a slick pop, breaking a small thread of saliva trailing from the head of Mike's dick to your lips with your tongue. You lave over the tip, looking up to find Mike staring at you flushed and dark-eyed. You keep the eye contact as you sink back down, beginning to build up a rhythm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mike raise his hands before hesitating, and dropping them back down to the couch cushion. You can tell he wants to touch you, but he’s unsure of himself. You take his hands in yours, and place them on the top of your head.

At first he just sort of holds your head, overthinking what to do even with your permission. You’d laugh if you weren’t so busy preening over the feel of his unfairly big hands holding your head delicately, like he might break you.

“Fuck, your mouth…” Mike whispers, his words trailing off as he watches your lips work over his throbbing cock. His confidence grows, finally allowing himself to run his fingers through your hair and gather it in a loose fistful. Your moan of encouragement has him tightening his grip just a touch.

“Jesus,” Mike breathes quietly, you give him a lick underneath the head of his cock in response. "Fuck. Feels so good.”

You hum in response, working Mike's cock faster to draw out more of those whimpers that he can't hold in. Hollowing your cheeks and sinking down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slick slurping sounds.

Mike's noises have gotten progressively louder by the second, you can feel his pulse beating wildly against your tongue through the vein running up his cock. You know he's close, and you're desperate to make him come.

You give him one long languid suck, swirling your tongue over the head as you pull off. His cock is slick with your spit, pulsing warningly. You use the wetness of your saliva as a makeshift lube to start stroking over him slowly.

"How's it feel, Mike?" You purr sensually,

When you sink back down, you don't break eye contact. Mike's eyes roll back into his head, the way his lips part on a sharp gasp, how his back arches off the couch, how his fist tightens even more around your hair.

Above you, Mike grunts, "Oh fuck, baby," His back arches, a rough gasp torn from his throat. The hand in your hair tugs sharply as he chokes out, "Gonna come, shit, gonna fucking come."

Mike shouts hoarsely, hips stuttering as he starts to come. His cock gives one final twitch in your mouth before he pumps load after load of warm come into your mouth. You moan loudly at the taste of his release coating your taste buds, swallowing what pools on your tongue routinely.

You continue to work your mouth over his cock, bringing Mike through the aftershocks of his orgasm, reveling in the broken sounds he keeps making. You lave your tongue over him savoring the taste of him, until he's tugging at your hair to pull you off his sensitive cock.

"C'mere, c'mere." He whines desperately. You’ve barely come up for air before Mike is bodily dragging you into his lap and kissing you like he needs it more than air.

His hand darts down your body and into your sweats. Mike moans in your mouth at the feel of your lacy panties absolutely soaked with your arousal. He wastes no time in finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over it with his thumb drawing a loud moan from your lips.

"Shit," You exclaim, nails digging into Mike's forearm. Your hips buck up into his touch, chasing his touch. "Mike..." You whine, needing him to do more.

"You drive me fucking crazy," He whispers roughly against the side of your face, sliding his pointer finger through the slick wetness of your folds. "I can't stop thinking about you."

“Oh god, Mike.” His fingers feel amazing, rubbing you in all the right places, his words lighting a fire in your stomach.

Mike gathers your wetness before pushing his thick middle finger in your tight heat. Your own moan gets drowned out by his guttural groan at the feeling of you clenching down on his finger.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He moans, thrusting his finger in and out of your aching pussy slowly. "You're so perfect, so perfect for me." Mikes lips trail kisses down your jaw as he adds a second finger into your dripping pussy, brushing against the spot inside you that sends white hot sparks of pleasure zinging up your spine.

"How's that feel?" He asks roughly, throwing your earlier teasing back in your face. You moan wantonly, hips moving grinding down as you ride his fingers in earnest.

Mike angles his hand in a way that lets his fingers thrust into you, hitting your g-spot all while the palm of his hand grinds into your clit

“I’m gonna come, Mike,” You whine desperately, hips stuttering as you tip over the edge. “I’m coming.”

"Yes, come for me." Mike whispers, lips brushing over your cheek.

Your chest heaves as you come down from your orgasm, collapsing against Mikes chest. You're an absolute mess, thighs shaking and sweat dripping down your back. A hiss escapes your mouth as Mike eases his fingers out of your twitching pussy. "Sorry." He whispers softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

You allow yourself to lay on his chest with his strong arms around your waist, keeping you close. So close you can feel his warm breath puffing out against your neck.

You don't want to let it, but reality sets in. "Are you gonna run away in the morning?" Your voice is so quiet you don't know if Mike even heard, and you can't force yourself to look up at him.

It takes him a second to register your words, you don't have to look at him to know he's wincing. "I," Mike starts, trying to find the right words. "I don't know." He admits, lips brushing against your hair.

The anger mixed with shame and embarrassment is quick to come, you scoff pushing off Mike's chest so you can go home. "Of course." You spit bitterly.

"Wait!" He rushes out, arms tightening on your waist to stop you leaving.

"What?" You bite out bitterly, whipping your head around to stare daggers at Mike. It backfires on you almost immediately, forcing you to stare into his big sad dumb eyes. He falters, mouth opening and closing as he fumbles to say anything.

You can't help that the look in his eyes tames your anger ever so slightly. The way he's silently pleading with you to stay, his brows drawn in concern and lips pulled down in a frown. Your steely resolve crumbles pathetically.

"What?" You repeat quietly. Mike flounders for a second more, before he finally gives in. "Please stay." He exhales softly, hands planting themselves on your hips, giving them a light squeeze..

Maybe it's your shitty resolve, maybe it's the post orgasm afterglow clouding your judgement, maybe it's the earnest look in Mike's eyes that keeps you from pushing out of his grip and out the door, but you just can't bring yourself to leave.

You stare back at him wrestling with your thoughts, but it's a losing game and you know that.

"Okay," You whisper slowly, settling yourself back down into his lap. "I'll stay."

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧

i could NOT figure out how to end this, but maybe i could do a part three? would literally anyone want that?

taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz @mikeschmidtgf @lee-inthebox @sunny-deary @ncqari

extra taglist!

@ballorawan740 @slasherluvrrr @importantgalaxyrunaway @iwantsleepplz @theaterhoefornewsies

1K notes · View notes

emptyjunior · 7 months ago

Text

It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.

First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.

Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.

Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:

We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.

Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.

Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.

You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.

Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.

Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷‍♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭

So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.

If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.

So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.

Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.

In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.

Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!

This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.

I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.

Anyways can not recommend this film enough.

-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.

-David Lynch to this day hates it.

-The original cut was four hours.

-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.

-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.

-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.

If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.

#dune #paul atreides #lady Jessica #dune movie #dune Frank herbert #dune 1984 #movies #scifi #kyle maclachlan #david Lynch #films

717 notes · View notes

justanothersam · 10 months ago

Text

Calm down Dean, we know we know

sam is like SO PRETTY so pretty so pretty so pretty like he's insanely pretty so beautiful so pretty like it's actually insane he's so fucking pretti

#but this is literally my inner monologue every minute of every day #pretty Sammy #sam winchester

294 notes · View notes

starsofteal · 8 months ago

Text

Daylight

Halsin x Tav // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Tav misinterprets Halsin’s declarations, thinking he must not want her as much as she wants him. Can Halsin convince her of his love? A/N: Well, my first Halsin fic is here! Based off this dialogue from the game, featuring a classic miscommunication trope. When I first came across this dialogue, I found myself rather disappointed by Halsin’s declaration, and I realized I was focusing on all the wrong parts of it. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we have a scenario in which Tav has done the same. This fic is so self-indulgent it should be a crime. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort (emphasis on the comfort—I promise all’s well that ends well). Pretty spoiler free, except for the opening dialogue if you’re romancing Halsin and you want all that to be a surprise.

“Relationship?” A deep chuckle rumbles in Halsin’s chest. A sinking feeling settles into your gut. You weren’t sure what to expect when you broached the topic of a potential relationship, but a laugh? A direct blow from an enemy sword would have hurt less.

“Such terms belong to civilization—a little unfamiliar to my lips.” His words continued, but that soft smile, those kind eyes, the strong, steadfast shape of Halsin, it all begins to shift, distorting just slightly as traitorous tears prick at your eyes. A quick bite of your inner cheek reminds you to hold steady, to not let the tears fall—by every star in that gods damned sky, you are not going to let him see you cry.

“…you and I should each seek happiness wherever it lies…”

He’s still going on? You think to yourself. How long can one rejection take? You bite your cheek even harder, a coppery tang bursting on your tastebuds.

Halsin’s words echo in your mind, despite the fact that his monologue seems to continue, piercing your heart again and again, the pain stealing the breath from your lungs. You will yourself to take in another breath.

“Let others know the happiness of being with you.” Halsin smiles down on you, not an ounce of malice in those soft green eyes. The staunch difference between his kindhearted gaze and the red-hot pain radiating in your chest was nearly laughable. In fact, at that very moment, you were unsure if your next steps would include crying, laughing, or launching an all out assault on the mountain of a man before you—an action that would surely not work out in your favor given the comical size difference between you two.

In the end, it was all you could do to offer a small, meager, “I see.” It’s a notable effort to keep the emotion from your voice, but you’re proud of the attempt all the same.

A frown breaks out across Halsin’s face, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Have I said something wrong, my heart?”

Those two words are a slap to your face. You don’t trust yourself to speak, not again, so without a word you turn and make your way to your tent as fast as your feet can take you.

The fabric barely has time to fall in place behind you before the warm tears finally break free.

_________

Two days had passed since the incident. While you wanted nothing more than to mope about on your bedroll and avoid Halsin altogether, your situation doesn’t exactly allow for such luxuries.

Which is how you find yourself in the woods with Shadowheart, foraging for ingredients to top off your party’s supply of potions and tonics. Though you left early in the morning, the sun glares bright overhead now. Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, you crouch low beneath a bush and scan the area for the bright violet blooms Shadowheart had you scouting for.

“I just don’t understand why you had to drag me out for this,” you fuss at your friend as thorns from the underbrush prick your side. Your clothing offers little protection against natures most irritating defenses.

“Surely there’s…someone more suited to this than I.” Your following scowl can’t be entirely blamed by the literal thorn in your side, not as thoughts of Halsin flash through your mind once more.

Shadowheart hums absentmindedly. “Yes, this is true. Halsin is more in tune with the forest,” she mutters, collecting something from the earth too small for your eyes to make out. A soft clink tells you the specimen makes it into the glass bottle. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about that,” Shadowheart continues, popping the cork back on the bottle and tucking it away.

“About what?” You hiss as another thorn embeds itself in your palm. You toss a scowl her way before distracting yourself from the conversation as you fiddle with removing the thorn. You’re not sure which hurts worse, the abrupt change in conversation topic or the wound in your hand. Impervious to your dirty looks, Shadowheart makes her way over to you.

“Well, you two were nearly inseparable. Absolutely enamored with each other—anyone could see it.” She takes your hand into her own to assess the damage.

“And now, well, if I’m being completely honest dear, you’re rather dour, you seldom leave your tent, or you’re looking for any excuse to get away from the party—sorry this’ll only hurt a second.” You wince as she pulls the thorn free and presses hard on the wound to stanch any bleeding. “And, well, Halsin’s been…unusually forlorn. Like a poor dog that’s been kicked in the stomach.”

With a scoff you withdraw your hand, taking care to apply pressure to it just as Shadowheart had done.

“I couldn’t care less what Halsin’s been doing.” The lie is ash on your tongue.

Shadowheart looks at you then, really looks at you. You try your best not to fidget under her assessing gaze.

“What happened?”

“I—“

“And don’t bother lying to me,” she’s quick to interrupt. “Save it for someone else. I know something has been bothering you.”

Resignation floods you. Leave it to Shadowheart to see right through your bravado and into your heart.

“I was a fool for thinking he could ever be happy with me.” The words are soft as they fall from your lips, but they burn your heart all the same. A firm weight falls on your shoulder as Shadowheart offers an encouraging hand.

“Tell me everything.”

_______

Halsin’s voice calls out your name from just outside Shadowheart’s tent. His low timbre still brings a tightness to your chest, but you will yourself to breathe normally. You’d been doing your best to avoid him since getting back to camp with Shadowheart, but you suppose now is as good a time as any to rip that particular bandage off.

“Yes, Halsin?” You ask matter of factly, not even looking up from the array of ingredients you’re currently sorting through. You pointedly ignore his gaze as he steps into the tent, taking up a majority of the albeit limited empty space.

Halsin clears his throat, clearly uncertain how to proceed. You two had always shared such an easygoing openness between you, but the last two days had left him scrambling for purchase.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Halsin smiles down at you, undeterred by your clear avoidance.

“Mm, we are talking.” You collect up one of the empty potion bottles, wiping at a smudge spot with the edge of your tunic.

Halsin forces a chuckle, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we are, but, erm, perhaps we could go for a walk? Enjoy some of nature’s company for the evening?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Your tone is sharper than you’d intended, but the guilt passes over you in a second as you replay his words in your mind, his scoff when you so much as mentioned a potential relationship.

Halsin sighs. He had hoped that his 300 odd years of experience would give him a leg up in navigating this prickly conversation, but—as is usual when you’re involved—his heart and his tongue seem to be tripping over one another.

“My heart,“

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps up to his, laced with venom.

“You do not get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Halsin feels his own chest start to cave in as the hurt flashes across your face—you master it a moment later, but the damage is done.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset you,” he starts, but you interject again.

“It’s fine. I’m not upset,” you force some neutrality back in your voice. “You weren’t interested in things continuing between us, and that’s fine. Nothing to apologize for.” You gesture to the flap of the tent. “You can take your leave now.”

Halsin does the opposite, braving another step closer.

“Of course I need to apologize. It appears my words have caused some confusion. Worse yet, I fear they’ve caused you pain.”

At that, you still, finger pausing over the bottles set up in front of you.

“You must know that I would never intend to hurt you.” Halsin’s tone was bordering on pleading. “Even now, it physically pains me to know that I’ve hurt you so.” He draws a hand to his chest, moving as if to soothe an ache that’s nestled beneath the surface there.

You glance up to see the hurt now reflecting in his eyes. It’s enough to bring forth a sigh from your lips, your shoulders caving in as resignation takes over your body. Even now, you can’t find it within yourself to hate him, no matter how much easier it would make this.

“You’re not responsible for my feelings, Halsin,” you sigh. “They are my own.”

“No, but I do take responsibility for my words,” he counters.

“You don’t want a relationship with me and you said as much. There’s nothing left to be said.” Despite your best attempts, your voice breaks on the last word. You close your eyes, clinging to the blunt words, mentally rebuilding your armor to power through the rest of this conversation.

“There is so much left to say, my heart.” Halsin’s gentle words caress your face like the sun’s rays on a warm summer day. “I have so much left to say.”

You keep your eyes closed, focus on taking another breath, keeping your heart steady. “Then speak.”

“I love you.”

Your eyes spring open, and Halsin is before you, close enough to touch. A large, tentative hand reaches up to cradle your face. You don’t pull away, and that’s enough to bring relief to Halsin’s heart.

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, afraid your mere voice would crack the perilously thin ice you suddenly find yourself on. “You said—“

“That I would not keep you to myself,” Halsin is quick to finish the thought.

“That we should seek out other people,” you correct, a touch of anger shading the words as you step out of Halsin’s grip.

At that, Halsin’s eyes widen. “No.” His voice holds more sharpness than the druid had ever shown with you before. “I said no such thing.”

“Well, maybe not exactly, but the sentiment was there,” you grumble, the frustration seeping through at your hazy memory.

“That ‘sentiment’ is misguided.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but you do it anyway.

“Well, forgive me if I don’t have it memorized word for word—I was a little busy having my heart broken,” you snap.

Halsin pauses for a heartbeat and you watch the pain shine in his pale green eyes at your words.

“And I will never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused you these last few days. But listen to my words now. I beg of you.”

Another heartbeat passes. He takes your silence as permission to continue.

“I don’t abide by these conventional rules set in place by society. My home is in nature, and I follow the path the Oak Father has set before me. These ideals of what relationships should or shouldn’t be, you’ll have to forgive me if they're all but foreign to me.”

Another wave of disappointment washes over you and you close your eyes in a futile attempt to deter the familiar pinpricks of tears. A warm, familiar hand caresses your face before tilting your chin up to bring your gaze to his.

“But trust me when I tell you that I have never met someone like you. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does for you. What I feel for you pales in comparison to those who came before you.”

There is no doubting the sincerity that lies in those soft verdant eyes.

"It feels as though I have been asleep in a centuries long dark night, and now I am finally seeing daylight,” Halsin’s deep voice soothes, each word repairing the aches and tears of your heart.

“There is no one else for me, my heart. Call it what you wish; you are all I want. Nothing would make me happier than to have you by my side for the rest of my days, if that is what you desire as well.

My love for you runs deep and true. Never doubt it, my heart.”

And then his lips are on yours, and every thought eddies out of your head, but one: Halsin loves you.

Pure joy and relief floods your body and you don’t even bother trying to stop the tears of joy that follow. Halsin pulls back from the kiss just enough to swipe the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, too, Halsin,” you whisper in the space between you as Halsin presses his forehead to yours.

“Forgive me, my heart. For the pain I have caused you.”

You smile up at that handsome face you’ve grown to hold so dearly. Your slender hand reaches up to caress his cheek, tracing the swirls of his tattoo. “Only if you’ll forgive my foolishness for doubting you.” You feel the shame rise up, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

“My heart, there is nothing to forgive,” Halsin murmurs before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

#halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin silverbough

941 notes · View notes

elstoy · 1 year ago

Text

somno with pervy ellie ♡

warnings: slight dubcon although she doesn’t rlly touch u, somnophilia.

sleeping besides her, her hand slowly caressing your thigh, whispering a breathy “oh fuck” when she reaches the seam of your cotton undies. you squirm up against her because you’re having a weird dream, and ellie just groans because you just bumped your cute ass against her boxer covered crotch. the wet patch on her boxers keeps growing and growing, to the point where every time she moves her leg it makes a little sticky moist sound. her inner monologue is going pretty much ham, because this would be taken advantage of you but she just can’t help it when you rub against her like that. she has to fight her demons that tell her to take off her boxers and start grinding her clit against your ass. she moves her neck to the side, and then lifts it up and takes a peak at your tits. her fingertips nearly twitch because of how much she wants to take your nipples and roll them around. hell, she can almost imagine how good your hardening buds will feel on her tongue. all she can do is whisper in your ear about all of the dirty things she wants to do to you. “you’re gonna take my cock, pretty girl, and then i’ll fuck that tiny little pussy till you’re sore, you’d like that huh?”, she doesn’t need to even touch herself in order for her to bust in her boxers, because knowing you’re fully sleeping, the angel that you are, blissfully unaware of how dirty and pervy the girl besides you is. when she comes, it’s all breathless and groany stutters of your name followed by “you’re such a little slut”, and when you wake up and find a little puddle of wetness where ellie was, she makes fun of you for peeing yourself in your sleep or something. “wasn’t me, idiot… you got a problem, seriously”, even though it quite literally smells like her.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams concept #ellie williams smut #perv!ellie

1K notes · View notes

romanarose · 4 months ago

Text

Puppet

Boston!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Read on ao3 : TLOU masterlist

Summery: Unable to bear the pain of life without Sarah, Joel burries it and himself inside his favorite doll. His fingers dance along your skin, controlling every move of his precious puppet

Something, something, no strings attached?

Warnings: I cannot give a comprehensive list of warnings. Wile no non con or dub con is employed, consider this fic to be open to dark themes including but not limited too mentions of Sarah's death and illusions to Joel suicide attempt, as well as Joel depression and anxiety. Hurt, some comfort??

Sexual content: (again, not comprehensive) Roughish sex but mutual consent to everything. Consider it some free use, he doesnt ask for permission but they have an arrangement. Vaginal fisting, manhandling, rough, sloppy upside down blowjob. throat fucking, gagging, lots of talk about kinda gross stuff like sweat and drool and musk. Ass eating (i know exactly the girlies this is for.) Lots of objectification about reader being a doll/puppet and Joel going a little off the rocker at the end there but I promise reader is having a great time, 10/10

2.5k Words

Told in Joel's POV, still a reader story. Bit of a different story telling mode for me, because it's literally just Joel's inner monologue. He doesn't say anything to you bc he's emotional closed off, but consider anything in italics what he wants to say.

Lil bit of latino Joel <3

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. Not when I can’t look you in the eye after bending your sweet body every which way, folding you and molding you into my perfect little creation. It was too dirty, cheap, nasty. We were using each other. That was the arrangement. Still, it was more than a quick fuck.

It certainly wasn’t quick.

I like you wrecked, drenched, absolutely filthy to look at and so wrapped in pleasure you can’t walk right.

That’s not to say there hasn’t been those moments, times where I shoved you against an alleyway and slammed into your core, times where I know you tastedblood and brick and dirt as you clenched around me and I left you with nothing but scratches on your face and cum dripping down your legs. There have been days you don’t even see my face, only my familiar musk and grunts and warmth signaling you didn’t need to scream when I shove down your pants.

But there are nights like these I much prefer. I can’t say there is much for talking, certainly little for romancing. I’ll feed you if you’re hungry, which is a lot but not always. But you aren’t here for food, are you? You’re here to let go control, to allow yourself to be given over fully to another so that we can, for an hour or two, forget we were living in hell. Forget we were fighting every single fucking day to live. Forget we watched our loved ones die, children in our arms as we scream at God to take us instead.

I can forget when I’m inside you.

You’re wet, warm, and you don’t ask much of me. You don’t ask for love or companionship, although I’m sure you’d take either if I offered, But I won’t. It’s not personal, it’s not about you. I just can’t give what I don’t have the capacity for anymore.

Still, despite the few words spoken between us I find you at my doorway again and again, begging to be filled by me, begging for it any way I want. You stopped asking me how I wanted you a long time ago, simply getting on the bed after stirpping without much fanfare. I can tell you try to add a little striptease here and there, and I let it slide despite not being a part of directions as long as you don’t get too cocky with it. I don’t need cocky. I need my cute little doll ready for me to play with, ready to take my cock in whatever hole I shove it in, waiting patiently and still for me to wind her up tight.

You looked like a doll too. Your puckered, pretty lips. Your large eyes gazing up at me. Your body so perfectly sculpted to my liking as if you were a dolly spin off of build-a-bear. In another time, I would have dated you, woo’d you, romanced your and waited weeks before sliding inside. I might have said I love you or even put a ring on your finger before I wrecked you, but that wasn’t the Joel I am now. Something inside me died on September 26th, something tha broke my ability to be the kind of man you deserved.

It didn’t stop me from making you gag.

Such a pretty play thing for me. Fuck doll, my favorite toy.

You know I don’t like your hands on me when you suck my dick.

It’s so disconnected I don’t know if I can even call it dick sucking or a blow job, through no fault of your own. You’re enthusiastic, and sometimes I can even see you smiling despite the stretch. No, this is on me. This is how I like it. I fuck your throat as your head hangs off the bed, watching as your body jolts in time to the constrictions of your throat, trying to get air through your nose as you struggle to breath because my balls keep slapping your face and plugging the only other option from oxygen… the undone flannel still covering my arms must tickle your skin. But you never push me off, never tap out, not even when I’m so deep in your lips are buried in the hair at the base of me, not even when I see the tip of my cock prod out your throat, and not when I wrap my hands around your pretty, dolly neck and use you to jerk off like a lifeless fleshlight.

I pound myself into you, fucking your mouth like I do your sweet, tight pussy, the wet sounds of your saliva spilling out your mouth fill the room, mixed in with the russell of sheets from your writhing body. I like knowing I can make you move like this. You feel like home, you feel like forgetting, you feel like a comfort I can’t get from Oxy or booze or anything other than the sweet release of death. But I can’t take that route, not when I have Tommy to care for.

If you put your hand on my thigh right now I might cry.

I release from you seconds before cumming, your body heaving to breathe again and I watch the drool run down your face and pool on the floor. I think about shoving your face in the slime and bile as I fuck your ass but that’s not what I need right now, and it’s not what you need either. I’m not selfish. Well, I am, but not with you. I’m cold, I’m mean, but I’m not cruel. I like you too, I like knowing I’m still good for something, that my hands are for more than killing, more than dumbly attempting to stop bleeding from bullet wounds. I like knowing they can be used for the pleasure of a pretty woman.

I don’t tell you where to go, I simply pick you up and throw you fully on the bed, watching as you bounce and shuck off flannel, making quick work of my white, sweat stained shirt. I haven’t showered. You havn’t given me the chance, jumping my bones like a whore begging for a fuck to pay for a meal. I think you like it, honestly. I see the way you look at me when we’re on a work sight together. You like walking away smelling like me, don't you? You like that my sweat had been rubbed all over you like an animal scenting his mate, my cum stuffed inside, my spit still glistening on your puffy pussy. Marking my territory.

You are mine, even if I can’t be yours. Even if I can’t give to you, I’ve taken all you are. If another man touches you, I’ll cut off his dick.

I grab your legs, yanking you so hard you fall backwards on the bed and your legs dangle off the edge..

I can’t tell you how pretty you are, spread out for me like this, awaiting for me to manipulate your body into my desires, mold you like I molded your insides to my cock, split you so fucking open every other limp-dicked lover that manages to stumble his way inside you feels empty. I can’t give you sweet nothings whispered in your ear or dirty encouragement, but I let you know how beautiful I find you as I lick and suck and bite my way down your body. I can’t kiss you, I can’t give you false pretense of what this is. I can’t take care of you after because I can’t look at you. Call it post-nut clarity, but I can’t face you anymore after I’ve destroyed you. Once we're done, the guilt sinks in. I swear to myself I won’t do this again, I won’t break a perfectly nice woman down into pieces when I can’t stomach putting her together again.

I can’t play with my toys if I can’t fix them.

But soon enough you come knocking, or you’ll make fuck me eyes before slipping into an alley, and I’m ripping you open again. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame, hating myself and taking my shame out on you. You are the only thing that can distract me from the guilt of watching her die, and nothing can make me give up that sweet reprieve, even if that horror floods my body like a breaking damn as soon as the orgasm subsides. I’ll drown myself in you until I can’t breathe anymore.

Two fingers slip in easily by now. Three is a little more but you take it well. You always do. Four fingers was the most you’d ever taken, and when I add the pinky I hear you choke out a moan, your limbs moving when my hands do. I love how thoroughly I’ve wrecked you, dolly. I love how I can shove all three of my knuckles inside and feel that warmth on my frostbite damaged hands, noting all the details of your flesh on the burned pads of my fingers.

You move so pretty for me, dolly.

My middle finger curls and your right fist clenches as your gasp. I spread my digits out and your head drops back. I swirl my thumb over your clit I spit on and your toes curl, crying my name. Hell, I move a pinky and your legs spread wider. It’s like I can control you from the inside.

You aren’t a doll after all. You’re a puppet.

My little hand puppet.

I take it further, sliding out my hand enough and reinserting it carefully with my thumb included. You scream my name, gripping the sheets as you bear the pain; I suckle on the sensitive swell between your folds. A promise that the pain will melt into pleasure.

I’ll take care of you, dolly, mi muñequita, mi marioneta, my perfect puppet dancing around for me on the stage of my sheets, twirling, whirling, swirling around in sin and sweat and screams.

A promise fulfilled, you begin whimpering the whiney, filthy needy thing that you are. Dirty puppet at my command, ready to fuck away all my pain burried in your tight cunt. You were burning on the inside, pulsing and drenching my arm as I fisted your hole, creating a fullness no one could give you. Me. Only me. No one could ever turn you into such a slobbering whore and make you look so pretty doing it. I want to leave my imprint, give as much as you could take and not a centimeter less, permanently burning my face in the plush of your thighs to hide the smile at your sounds reaching a fever pitch. The whole apartment knew who you belonged to, that the pretty woman banging on his door at all hours of the day was being fist fucked by the local drug dealer, that the dirt covered worker at the fires would have her face washed clean of soot with her own drool gagging on my cock.

When you come, I feel you in a way I’ve never felt you before. It was like you were swallowing me up, begging for more, dragging me inside. You come hard, legs shaking and I’m sure you’re eyes would be rolled back if they weren't clenched so damn tight. I continue to play you like my guitar, just to see what noises I can pull out of you.

Qué sonidos tan hermosos haces, marioneta

Your body prone and limp, I maneuver your dead weight closer to me. You let me climb on your body, know full well what I’m doing. I see a little smile on your sweet doll face, lying there so compliant and ready for me, your submissive body simple allowing me to degrade you further. I on your face, allowing you full, unfiltered access to my ass that you eagerly devour, the musk and sweat of manhood, of masculinity. Me. I feel your tongue at my entrance, prodding like the good little sex toy you are, always doing what you were made to, controlled by the strings of your hair being pulled down the bed cushion by knees.

I take your hands, lying obediently at your sides and just like the docile puppet you are, you allow me to control your limbs. I take your wrists, guiding your hands over your gorgeous body. You’re sweet, too sweet, too petty. Dulzura. I pretend I’m painting your skin, a handmade marionette made just to dance for me, to fulfill your purpose of being mine, of bringing mutual pleasure to us both, to feel your master's hand inside you controlling your body and your mind made live at his creation and only meant to think thoughts of me. I let you caressed your breasts, feeling your body, appreciating it as I do.

I cum on your stomach, not even remembering when my right hand dropped yours in favor of my cock. Your body is painted in white and I have the indescribable urge to spread it, to massage it into your skin until it’s as much a part of you as the traumas we’ve both endured. I sit up and off your face in time that a few spurts of my seed tumbles onto your face, and as much as I want to see it, I can’t.

As much as I want to touch your body, I can’t. The high has ended and horrors have begun to creep in, the lurking shadows swirling and dancing on the walls, waiting for me to fall in, waiting for them to take me again, waiting for me to not miss this time. I feel my skin crawl, and I barely have it in to toss my flannel in your direction. Handing you something to clean the firth off you while I dig at my own skin is the least I can do and the most I can manage.

I turn away from you, digging into my draws in a hurry to pull something on, to cover my shame and hatred in myself while you dress and leave in silence. I usually don’t even hear the door close, a vague reminder in my head that I have to go to lock my door before my stash of oxys and other substances get stolen being the only thing to pull me away from staring at the wall.

My chest feels tight, but this isn’t a new feeling. It’s not a heart attack, not this time. I feel sick to my stomach, guilt for feeling any sort of pleasure, and joy at all is felt in every nerves of my skin, hyper aware of the drafts in his home, the splintered wood of the floor at his feet. In another life, I’d bother sanding it, varshing it, or redoing it all together. Nothing was worth it anymore. My eyes burned. I hope you were gone, fucked full and smiling from a world bending orgasm and not feeling the sickness I feel in myself.

I only realize you’re still there when I feel your sticky skin press up against mine, your bare chest to my back.

How perfectly your body fits so perfectly to mine, dolly, from every angle.

I turn around, and like a child in a thunderstorm, I hold my doll while I cry.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

I hope you liked the lil switcharoo ;-; and I know Joel is kinda ooc but i liked it!

I been listening to a lot of erotic audios lately and maybe this is where i get it from lolololol

If you like the doll/puppet kinda vibes but wished I went more into it, @missannwinchester has a great great great series called Plaything !!!!!! Joel is a lil freak and we love that for him!!!! one of those joels that stay in your mind for weeks, you know?

thank you to Alica for helping with the spanish!

tagging those who asked to be tagged and who i thought may enjoy!!!!!!!!! NO PRESSURE AT ALL i know we all got you know. real lives lol.

@pedge-page @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @strang3lov3 @alwaysmicado @hornystan @toxicanonymity @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @justagalwhowrites @femmeanonymelives

150 notes · View notes

callmewhenyougetthis-a · 2 years ago

Text

He deadpanned her, hating the fact that she was laughing. Every conversation regarding Jeremiah's good, lady-killing looks was a serious one dammit, and he wasn't going to stand for anyone acting lackadaisical about it. A second later, though, he let out a sigh; he supposed his handsomeness didn't matter so much if he was paling out in a morgue somewhere.

"And what's so wrong with being full of myself?" he challenged her. "There's nobody else who's gonna root for me, love me, as much as I root for and love myself. I'm just bein' an advocate, that's all." He set her papers down on the table at a distance just far away enough for her to be unable to reach them, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. If he was arrogant, then she was small, and that had to be worse.

"Anyways, we were paired up for a reason. Some higher power probably wants you to be a little more full of yourself," Jeremiah continued. "Do you some good."

As far as what his family did, he took a deep breath. How could the O'Connor reign be explained in so few sentences? One of his goals before dying was to get a ghostwriter to write it all down and get it published. It would've been the second Bible if he didn't die.

"We don't deal drugs, you muppet," he sucked his teeth. "My great-great grandfather opened a bank in Dublin many many eons ago and it's now one of the biggest banks in the United Kingdom, with growing branches in the States. I'm the CFO, my older brother's the CEO. And my little brother's... well, he's an eejit." Irish slang for 'idiot.'

" Don't get any ideas, you hear me? You can poison and get rid of me, but like, I don't think that'll get you out of...this. O'l devil boy will probably just reassign you to someone else. What if they're worse than I am? Hmm? Then what? " Odd, considering not too long ago she had been looking for every way to get rid of him. Now she was...convincing him not to go? Not yet, at least. She was enjoying his company, although if you were to ask her, she'd deny it.

She takes another bite of the omelet, considering what he was saying. That it had been a lot of work, maintaining...whatever business his father had. " What do you guys do? Erm, well, what did you do? You never told me that. You're not like a drug lord, are you? Is that why you're going to hell, 'cause your dad is like, king pin, and you're one of his pawns that has like, killed a bunch of people? Maybe that's why someone killed you. Revenge against your father. Or you. I wouldn't be surprised if it were revenge against you. " Angel's talking a mile a minute, only taking a break to take a sip of water. Just a sip, though. To help wash down the food.

Makes a face as he shuffles through her papers. Assignments, tests, you name it. She supposed that was her fault, for leaving them out on the table - but still. Wasn't his business. She reaches to snatch them out of his hands, but falls short. Damn limbs. Why'd he have to be so much taller than she was?

At the mention of being the hottest bachelor in the United Kingdom, she's giggling. Giggling so hard that she has to set her fork down and bend over, unable to catch her breath. This last for a few seconds before she looks at him, blinking. " Oh. You were serious. Come on, dude. Don't you think you sound a little, I don't know, full of yourself? "

#blndsided #c. jeremiah #jeremiah x angel #i literally cackle every time i write his inner monologue about class #like yes jeremiah parents don't set up their kids with savings funds because they just didn't think abt it #not bc they live paycheck to paycheck most of the time or anything

45 notes · View notes

obscurecurse · 8 months ago

Text

KP! REWATCH! CONTINUES! It's episode five, babes. Truly so much happens in this ep.

But I just need to pause for a minute b/c the KimChay dynamic at their first "tutoring session" is peak comedy. Kim is so on edge that he's literally experiencing an inner monologue dissecting Chay's mannerisms as if this is an episode of Death Note. Meanwhile Chay is, I think, not even trying to flirt with Kim? He just has no filter.

The range of emotions Kim experiences when Chay says he likes all sides of him sends me every time...

First, The Realization. The "ohhhhh":

Second, idk, amused? Maybe scandalized? ("r u flirting with me?"):

Third, charmed. ("ya. u r."):

#kinnporsche the series #kp rewatch #kimchay

228 notes · View notes

natigail · 9 months ago

Text

"I figured hey, if I'm here, I might as well be honest with myself. So I dug into the archives. And I found teenage Dan. Do you remember HELLO INTERNET? There I was, eighteen years old, your average caucasian British boy with your problematic vocabulary, just wanting so desperately to be liked. I then saw myself age twenty, as a student. Not that I was actually studying anything other than the male anatomy. I had no plan. No prospects. I was in desperate need of a haircut. Jesus Christ. No, look, that was not a hairstyle. It was geometry. My hair was a square. I then saw myself age twenty-two as an adult, just trying to make my way in the world, taking any job that I could, no matter how inauthentic or degrading. And look. I don't hate these past versions of myself, alright? Apart from the square one, it can get in the fucking bin. Mainly, I just feel sorry that it took them so long to work out who they are. I then stumbled across the video titled Existential Crisis. In which I utter the optimistic nihilistic epithet: 'embrace the void and have the courage to exist'. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist. It sounded nice when I said it but for some reason it just didn't hit. I had accepted the absurdity of the world but at that time, I hadn't accepted myself. Looking back at it, it finally clicked. Anyone who has suffered with depression or any kind of trauma that seriously affects your self-worth hopes that one day you're going to have this sudden revelation and then everything is fine. I had my revelation alright. I am unapologetically gay! Don't know if you hadn't picked up on that, so far in the show. But just having this revelation did not immediately fix all of my problems, because I still feel that inherent burnt-on brand that I am wrong. And that doesn't just go away. No, I know what my problem is, alright. My problem I am always living for the future. Every day I am thinking about this dream future where all of my dreams have come true and all of my problem have gone and everything's fine. And so, every day in the present of my life can be this joyless unrelenting grind towards that future. But it's okay. It's going to come any day now, right? Learning to look yourself in the mirror and being honest about what you've been through and keep living in spite of that can be hard. It takes a long time and a relentless persistent resistance against the way that you've been trained to feel by the world. But that doesn't just mean you should give up. Because, sure, sometimes in life, you may feel trapped. I felt trapped by my sexuality. You could feel trapped by your culture or your community. Hell, you could be literally trapped in an elevator but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't try to get out. 'cause, sure, when I look at the state of the world, I am very tempted to just go: You know what - we're all doomed. But that isn't courageous. That is cowardly. It's the easy way out. Even if it is, as I hope you'd all agree, a really fucking cool name for a show. So that's the thing. You can either say to yourself, every day is just a discontent emoji or you can find the courage to force your inner smiling cowboy hat, ye-motherfucking-haw! And just try to find in everyday life. Which is why I made this show. So I'm not living in the future but I'm just right here, right now, with you, just trying to have one good night. And look. Hey. Who knows, huh? We may all be doomed. Death may be inevitable. But first, we get to live. Life might at times be a struggle but just being here, to put one foot in front of the other every day is living. So please, do not let the doom drag you down. You are important. You matter. Please, stay hopeful for the future. Appreciate life. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist." - Dan Howell, closing monologue of his show "we're all doomed" (2022-2024)

#wad spoilers #dan howell #we're all doomed #talking in tags #i wasn't going to do any more but why not immortalise this #mostly just saving this for myself because it always got me #dan quotes

285 notes · View notes

digitaldiarystuff · 6 months ago

Text

Fatal Attraction

i’m actually not sure what to say as an excuse rn but i’m sorry to keep you waiting hope you like this one and please leave comments they really help me🥹

————

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: no idea at all

summary: you were childhood best friends with Fermin which resulted in meeting Pedri since they got close, you couldn’t deny he was dreamy but he had a bad reputation so you try your best to steer clear of him but can you succeed?

————

You left uni after your horrible professor finally decided 4 hours were enough for boring you to death. It was nearing 8 pm when you could finally escape. You wondered how you managed to sit for 8 hours straight in high school when you couldn’t even handle a 2 hour class of historical design now. But then again, Fermin was with you for all those times. He was your best friend practically all your life because your families were friends long before you were born so it was natural. Even when he went away to La Masia you never grew apart and you even came to Barcelona to study just so you could be close again. He was you ride or die, literally and you two were the perfect example of a guy and a girl being strictly platonic besties. You viewed him more as a brother than a friend and so when you moved to a new city he made sure you never felt alone. He always invited you to games and hangouts, introduced you to practically everyone around him and even sent you on a few dates over the course of last year but you always struggled to keep a genuine connection with a guy like that. They always seemed too superficial or wanted to use you to get closer to Fermin now that he was in the starting 11. Most of them just wanted sex and that wouldn’t be a problem for you if they just tried a little but no, they always expected it for buying you a 20 euro meal or a drink at the club and it was exhausting you. You also weren’t looking to get married in three months but sometimes, especially when Fermin and his shiny world wasn’t around, you wished there was someone to turn to. You just wanted affection, can’t a girl get affection these days?

Your inner monologue was cut short by the ringing of your phone.

“Hey” you chirped answering it.

“Y/N hi.” as soon as you heard the voice behind the phone you stopped all your movements, you were expecting your best friend to annoy you but it was actually Pedri.

“Um, hi” you answered not understanding why Pedri would be calling you from Fermin’s phone.

“I’m gonna tell you something but promise you won’t get mad” Just that sentence alone made sure you’d get mad.

“Just out with it Pedro.”

“Soo… Fermin’s drunk.” he finally confessed and your eyes went wide, you even checked the time again to see if you lost track of time.

“It’s only 7.45. How?” you were baffled with Fermin’s choices but still had a question needed answering.

“Yeah so it’s actually a funny story-

“Pedro why did you call me? Did something happen to him?”

The thought made your blood run cold.

“No no don’t worry we’re fine. It’s just, we don’t have a ride back.”

“Back from where?”

“Um, sorry yeah just, what’s the address?” he asked clearly talking to someone next to him and as soon as you heard a high pitched female voice you got the gist of the situation.

They went to some girls’ place and now that their business’ was over needed someone to rescue him before the public sees them.

“Just text me the address.” you huffed annoyed, didn’t even let him answer and hung up.

It’s not like you didn’t know the boys were doing this stuff, they were young famous and rich. Of course they had every right to enjoy their life, it’s just…

It’s just whenever Fermin was in a situation like this, it was always with Pedri and it annoyed you. Pedri as a whole annoyed you yes but the fact that he was with a different girl sometimes more times than he actually plays football was unsettling and unnecessary even.

He reminded you of those people on Too Hot To Handle like come on one week without sex couldn’t be that bad. You went without it for… a really long time. And he wasn’t even that good looking to begin with so you could never understand why those girls were throwing themselves at him. Yes his eyes were shining bright whenever he was in a good mood, his jawline was damn near perfect and his smile was contagious but that’s about it. Pedri was not that great, or so Fermin said.

“Who’s that? Is that the infamous Pedri Gonzalez?” you asked Fermin when your eyes caught his at the party currently being thrown at Balde’s house. Fermin brought you because according to him, you really needed to let loose and get some vitamin d (his words not yours).

As soon as his eyes followed yours he immediately pulled you away shaking his head relentlessly.

“Oh no no no no no. No.”

“What?” you asked after looking at Pedri one more time and noticed he was still watching you.

“No, Y/N. Not him, anyone but him. Well, not anyone. I don’t really feel great about Ferran and Gavi would be a little complicated but even they’re okay but not Pedri.”

You tore your eyes from the gorgeous boy in the other corner of the room and looked at Fermin like he had grown another head.

“I just asked who he is” you defended yourself but Fermin was quick to cut you off.

“It always starts like that, then he’ll come over and charm you into the bed or worse, the restroom and bam! You’re left behind.” the way he described it made you sober up immediately.

“Gross”

“Exactly. So repeat after me. I”

“I”

“Will not”

“Sleep with Pedri”

“Sleep with Pedri” you repeated but was shocked to see Pablo passing by you and say it at the same time as you. Fermin was quick to hit his head and murmured a ‘cabron’ and you chuckled at their fight.

Fermin also lost his serious manner for a second and laughed but pulled himself together soon.

“Look Y/N I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“It’s okay Fermin, it’s not like I wanted to do it anyway. I’ll just steer clear of him.”

You really meant it and tried your best to avoid Pedri at all cost since the first time you’ve met and just kept it pleasant with small hi’s and bye’s but he really had a charming personality and his eyes were like magnets and no matter how hard you tried you’d still find yourself drawn to his eyes whenever you crossed paths.

Fermin saw it too and tried to warn you a few more times but you told him to knock it off because there was no way you’d ever stoop so low, right?

You really did find his behavior with women disgusting, even though he claimed he never indicated anything about a relationship or even a date you obviously knew all those girls were looking for it and were left heartbroken when Pedri shut them off completely after spending the night together. But he was the sweetest talker and it was so easy to fall into his trap, it was so lucky that you didn’t.

You finally arrived at the address Pedri texted you from Fermin’s phone about 20 minutes later and saw them waiting in the lobby of an apartment complex. They both had hoodies with sunglasses, if they were hoping to lay low this was really not it.

Pedri carefully laid Fermin in the backseat and got in the passenger side of your car. You didn’t even answer his hey and turned back to take a look at Fermin.

“Why would you drink this much?”

“Uh, I don’t think he can understand you at the moment” Pedri chimed in.

“And you! Why would you let him do this to himself?” you now pointed a finger at him.

“I wasn’t exactly with him while it happened.” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“Where were you? Oh” you said immediately knowing the answer.

“Did they at least sign NDA’s?” you asked slightly bitter. Although you tried your best to mask it with annoyance for Fermin’s state.

“Yeah yeah, Fernando’s handling it.”

It was the way he was so nonchalant that made your stomach turn. You turned the car on and started driving to Fermin’s place.

“Do you mind me putting on a song?” he asked after an uncomfortable silence and slightly nodded your head. He immediately connected to AUX and put on Bad Bunny.

After a minute Pedri started to silently sing along and you turned your head to his direction.

“You shaved.”

He was shocked you talked to him given the fact that you never did it if you weren’t forced to but quickly turned to look at you and scratched his chin.

“Yeah, it was getting hot.”

You turned your attention back to the road and answered, more to yourself.

“Well I liked it.”

“You did?” he asked with another shocked expression. Pedri sometimes assumed you didn’t even remember his name.

“Yeah well, it looked more mature but given your current state I think the childish look suits you better.” you chuckled and he joined you.

You didn’t even know why you told him you liked his bearded look, I mean you really really did but this was forbidden territory.

“I’m sorry you had to come to get us.” he said after another moment of silence.

“It’s alright. I didn’t have anything else to do and I couldn’t leave Fermin stranded.” you looked back at your best friend sleeping peacefully in the backseat.

“You really care about him.” he also looked back at the blond boy smiling.

“I do. He’s my best friend.”

The ride continued without another word from either of you and you finally pulled up to Fermin’s driveway.

You opened the back door and tried waking Fermin up but Pedri was quicker and got him up putting all his weight on himself and basically carried him in. You opened the door and let them in helping with Fermin’s bag while Pedri carried him upstairs to his room and came back a minute later. You were tidying up Fermin’s living room as he approached you.

“I think he’ll be fine.” he smiled.

“Thank you.” you said without glancing back at him expecting him to go crash in one of the guest rooms but he stayed still, making you realize for the first time in a year you were alone with none other than Pedri. Your body stiffened up and he noticed.

“Are you cold?”

“What?” you turned to him raising a brow.

“You’re shivering.” he motioned his head forward and had a sly smile on his face and your cheeks immediately burned with embarrassment. How could you possibly tell him it was because this was the first time they were alone (if you don’t count passed out Fermin upstairs) You were not cold in the slightest, actually your body was pretty hot.

“Uh yeah it’s chilly.” You tried your best to not look at him without being disrespectful, you didn’t want him to think you were a bitch just that you were his friend’s friend and that’s it.

“Do you need help with anything?” he asked bending down and picking an empty pizza box from the floor.

“No it’s okay, you can just go upstairs and rest.”

“I’m actually just gonna call an uber.”

“Uber?” you asked “You don’t have to do that you can stay here, Fermin wouldn’t mind.” you blabbered on but just as you shut up a voice in your head said maybe that’s not why he’s leaving. It’s still early, he’s not passed out drunk and he probably has many girls lined up waiting for a call.

“Or if you have somewhere to be, it totally cool.” you tried shrugging nonchalantly as if you didn’t care at all but probably failed. This conversation was becoming more and more difficult by the second.

“I have nowhere to be.” Pedri chuckled at your nervousness.

“Then you’re welcome to stay.” you once again turned to him for a second but that turned out to be a mistake on your part because Pedri was intensely watching your every move. Sometimes you wondered how many more people weren’t falling in love with him everyday, he could easily hold a meaningful eye contact every time your eyes met.

“What if we watched something?” he asked. “You love reality tv, right?”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to be more shocked about, the fact that he offered to watch something with you or that he knew your tv watching habits and stood still until you found the courage to speak up.

“Sure, why not?”

That’s how you ended up in this position with him, takeout boxes on the coffee table and sitting closely in the middle of Fermin’s l shaped sofa. Pedri could easily lay on the longer part as he already had his feet on that part but he opted to sit just next to you. Your thighs were centimeters apart and whenever he turned to you to laugh at something a cast member had said you’d feel his hot breath on your face. The setting felt too intimate for two people that were barely considered as friends yet alone one person with a pathetic little crush. You tried to ignore the feeling rising within you and tried your best to focus on the show but it was nearly impossible as Pedri once again made a comment about the sex drive the cast had and held your thigh in the process.

“I mean they have to be faking, this is too much even for me.” he laughed while your eyes were focused on his hand on your leg, you couldn’t even comprehend his comment for a second.

“Oh come on, you couldn’t even last a day there.” you teased having no control of your tongue. The comment was a surprise to both of you.

“You don’t think I can last a week without sex?” he raised an eyebrow smirking at you and you felt the tension in the air shift slightly.

“I don’t think you could last a day.”

“Now you’re being unfair.”

It was your turn to raise a brow being like ‘really?’

“I’m not that bad” he continued to defend himself but you weren’t convinced.

“Come on Pedri, I’ve heard the stories.”

“I’m perfectly capable of not doing anything with any girl for however long I want.” he looked around.

“Just look at us.” he motioned between you two and your eyes immediately turned to his hand still resting on your thigh. He retreated it slowly while awkwardly chucking. Even though you enjoyed the banter, the mention of you two brought back the awkward and painful feeling you had. Maybe he thought you were not hot enough to hit on.

Before you could answer you heard some noises from upstairs and went to check on Fermin. He was now up and in his en-suite crouched on the toilet ready to throw up.

“Y/N” he mumbled quietly and you bent down next to him.

“What did you even drink, my god Fermin you’re unbelievable.” you scolded the boy but this was you trying to be soft. He really shouldn’t put himself in these situations.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked trying to get out of your interrogation but you hesitated to answer.

“I- we were watching tv and had takeout.” you stammered and Fermin looked up at you with confusion.

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Pedri” you bit your lip because you knew what was coming.

“Y/N we’ve talked about this, you need to stay away from him.” Fermin said sounding exhausted both from his state and how many times he had to talk to you about Pedri.

“We’re just friends Fermin, he’s your friend too.” you said trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Yeah well I don’t wanna have sex with him.” you shushed him as fast as you could afraid that Pedri would hear it.

“Are you okay now?” you asked as Fermin stood up and washed his face.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just gonna sleep it off.” he said as you were walking out to give him privacy. Just as you shut the door behind you you were faced with Pedri with a slight smirk on his face.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You were stunned to say the least and couldn’t even muster a word just let out a nervous laugh.

“What?”

“I heard Fermin”

“Look Pedri I don’t know how much you heard but he’s out of his mind and was saying some extremely dumb stuff.” you tried to move past him but he placed a hand gently on your waist to prevent you from running away from this highly embarrassing situation and slowly leaned into your ear to whisper.

“You know Y/N, all you have to do is ask.” you could basically hear the smile he had on as he spoke and hated yourself for not being more calm and being as wet as you are

————

ooh not sure about this one really but hope you enjoy loves💖

155 notes · View notes

twomiddlefingersforthehaters · 10 months ago

Text

Naruto and Sasuke often uses 'Nazedaka' and 'Nandeka' in their monologue. Nazedaka= for some reason,without knowing why, somehow. nandeka = nazedaka have similar meanings.

We know that Naruto never wanted to give up. If we ask him 'why', there is always an answer for it.

He stabbed himself to open the wound, why? Because he doesn't want to run away and being afraid again.

He sympathize with Haku even though he killed his teammate Sasuke, why? Because he knows what loneliness is. He is also the one who taught him how far you will go to protect your precious person. He also understands him.

He never want to give up taking the tenth question in chunin exam, why? Because he doesn't want to run away.

He never want to give up fighting against Gaara, why? Because Sasuke acknowledged him and he wanted to protect Sasuke & Sakura.

He understand why gaara becomes a maniac, why? Because of loneliness, the hatred from others... And he is a Jinchūriki.

He never want to give up fighting against kabuto, why? Because he wanted to prove to Tsunade that he was worthy to hold the title of Hokage. By this, he can bring her back to Konoha and cure Sasuke and others.

He never wanted to give up fighting against pein, why? Because he wanted to protect the village. He wanted to end the cycle of hatred.

He never want to give up fighting against Obito, why? Because he wanted to end the fucking war.

But when it comes to Sasuke he doesn't know, why does he feel like that…? Why he didn't want to see him hurt...? why he doesn't want to give up on Sasuke? Why would he go to such lengths for him? He is unable to give a definite answer to all these. Because it's not that easy to say.

N̲a̲r̲u̲t̲o̲

1. Naruto's inner monologue (In ch. 228) vote 1

Raw: 何でか分かんねーけど...

Romaji: nande ka wakannē kedo...

Literal: I don't know why.... but...

Raw: オレはお前を... 大蛇丸なんかに取られたくねーんだってばよ･･･

Romaji: ore wa omae o... Orochimaru nanka ni toraretakunē n datte-ba yo...

Literal: I don't want you... to be taken away by someone like Orochimaru!

[His words contain sooo much emotion.]

2. Vote2

Raw: 「それ説明しろって言われてもオレも正直よく分かんねェーよそんなの... ただお前のそーゆー背負ってゴチャゴチャしてるとこ見てっと・・なんでか・・・・・オレが・・・痛てーんだ」

Romaji: sore setsumei shiro tte iwarete mo ore mo shōjiki yoku wakanne yo sonna no...tada omae no so you seotte gochagocha shiteru toko mite tto... nande ka ... ore ga... Itate nda

Literal: Even if you ask me to explain it.... I honestly don't properly understand... that kind of thing...It's just that.... When I see you carrying burden on your back... getting all messed up.... for some reason... ...I'm.... hurting...

S̲a̲s̲u̲k̲e̲

(Sasuke's dialogue is much more poetic in Japanese. He sounds so incredibly vulnerable)

1. Sasuke's inner monologue (ch.698)

Raw: 「...なぜだか気になるようになった」

Romaji: ...nazedaka ki ni naru yō ni natta

Literal: For some reason/without knowing why, somehow.... I became as anxious/worried and bothered about you (when you were in my mind).

means -> { I became (in such way [that] when you were in my mind) }

Raw: それからのお前を見る度にどんどん気になるようになっていった

Romaji: sore kara no omae o miru tabi ni dondon ki ni naru yō ni natteitta

Literal: And then, steadily, every time I saw you, I became uneasy (when you were on my mind)....

• Kininaru

気 - ki exists in us. Spirit. It is the spirit principle that follows it within a person. Kininaru - that person is occupying our feeling, sensation, thoughts etc... Whatever it is that turning into our spirit.

-> Kininaru means to think about something unconsciously/subconsciously.

Kininaru means shinpaininaru 気になる -> 心配になる｡心配になる (shinpaininaru) means- someone is worried about something. It depends on the context how it use, it could be 1. I'm concerned about something/someone 2. I'm worried about something/someone 3. I'm interested in~ 4. I'm bothered about~ 5. I wonder~ 6. I'm curious about~ etc...

1 . Kininaru uses when you are curious about something or you want to know because you are curious about something/someone. It's like, that someone/something catching your attention and you becomes curious because you want to know so badly! 'You want to know more & more'! And using 気になっていた (kini natteitta) means "I've been curious about something/someone." It's not about 'you are curious about it now' but about 'you've been curious about it for a while.' Kininaru express about the feeling of yourself about what you feel about something.

2. I'm worried about -> "I can't help but worry about that X"- Worried about X (because X has an injury/illness or some other problems). If you say you're worried, it doesn't mean you're worried, it's that you're worried about 'that person'. Kininaru has more of a feeling of something that effects you. As like Naruto's worries become Sasuke's worries

3. Kininaru uses when you've romantic interest in someone or someone attracted you or someone catches your attention. "Oh, that person drew my attention" Or "something was interesting about this person". It often use なって- form to say 'you're interested in someone'. If you say that you're interested in someone (気になってるんだ - ki ni natteru nda), it means that you like him/her a little bit. And you want to know more about that person.

Note: Potential verb + "you ni naru" - to become/to become able to. kininaru - anxious/worried/bothered or to be on one's mind. Adding 'you ni naru' means "I couldn't do it before but I can now". So the potential verb + youninaru express or to shows the change.

So, 気になる has the meaning of 「心配になる-shinpaininaru」 (worrying/ bothering/anxious/curious/concerned...) and also the meaning of 「ちょっと好き- chotto suki」 a little liking ( in a romantic way) . It's a bit special. There are two meanings to this verb, so if you use this you need to pay attention to this.

Raw: その時思った... お前の弱さがだんだんオレに染まってきたんだと

Romaji: sono toki omotta... omae no yowasa ga dandan ore ni somatte kitanda to

Literal: At that time I thought.... your weakness gradually came to taint me.

[[The other panel 'literal' is above, you can check]]

Note: The image of どんどん (dondon) means 'something is going very fast' or 'changing speed of the progress is very fast'. Dondon means rapidly/steadily/more & more/significantly. And whereas だんだん (dandan) means little by little/gradually. So both dondon & dandan are opposite because どんどん is faster than だんだん.

And in both cases Sasuke saying something like; "Seeing Naruto being scolded by the others and him suffering... made Sasuke worry more and more about Naruto. The thought of Naruto made him worry/anxious. He's feeling uneasy or being overly concerned about him".

Raw: 「そしてなぜだか安心したんだ」

Romaji: soshite nazeda ka anshin shita nda

Literal: And then... without knowing why, somehow.... I felt relieved (because of you).

Note: Anshinshita + Nda, んだ (nda) is used at the end of sentences. んだ is a casual and preferred in speaking. んだ- One way in which it often does this is by emphasizing the feelings of the speaker. 安 (AN) which means "peace" Or "ease", 心 (shin, Kokoro) which means "heart" or "mind". 安心 as "relief" or "peace of mind". 安心 has the kanji for 'safe' and 'heart'. So it means "peace of mind your heart is at ease". 安心する means " I feel relieved."　安心 is a noun, and 安心する is a verb. If you want to say ``I felt relieved'' in the past tense, you should change the verb to be in the past tense 「安心した」. It more emotionally relieved.

And, Sasuke using anshin shita which means something like - 'only when you are there, I was always at peace/safe/relieved '. It has a meaning of 'That's a load off my mind ' or 'you found your safety or security when your burden was lifted ' Or 'being pleased/happy and satisfied (feeling content)'. So, it has more deeper meaning than just 'relief'. (It is a vague concept in Japanese with a wide range of meaning).

We can also see the same word used by Naruto himself in his monologue (VOTE 1)

Raw: オレは... 最初自分と同じような奴がいるって分かって安心したんだ!

Romaji: ore wa ... saisho jibun to onaji yōna yatsu ga iru tte wakatte anshin shita nda !

Literal: In the beginning... when I found out.... There was someone similar to me.... I felt relieved!

Also the same expression was shown in ch. 499 when Naruto heard his mother's word 'I love you'

なんだろ = nandaro = (I wonder) what is this?

すっげー安心する... = sugge anshin suru... = I feel so calm/ I feel so relieved...

すっげーうれしいっ!!! = sugge ureshi !!! = I feel so happy!!!

Naruto's reaction to kushina saying i love you was so precious. He was unaware of any of these types of emotions. He have never known what a mother's love is. He doesn't even know what his mother looks like or what her voice sounds like. He doesn't know how mother's scolding and mother's love feel. When Kushina says "I love you" to Naruto, it means that she has deep affection and care for her son and wants to express those feelings. It is a way of showing him that he is valued and appreciated. His mother's love... it gave Naruto a peace of mind that he had never felt before. It makes him soooo happy. Tender and unbreakable, gentle and strong, soft and loud bond between a mother and a son. And he felt all these for the first time.

A boy who is alone in life gets comfort from another boy without even have a conversation with him. Sasuke and Kushina were the two people who soothed his heart, made him happy, and comforted him.

Kid Naruto:

それに嬉しかった。ホントはすぐに話しかけたかったんだ･･･

soreni ureshikatta. honto wa sugu ni hanashikaketakatta nda...

And besides, I felt happy. To tell the truth, I really wanted to talk to you right away.

Teen Naruto:

オレだっていつもお前が一人なのは知ってた

ore datte itsumo omae ga hitori nano wa shitteta

I always knew you were... alone

同じような奴がいるって安心した・・・

onaji yōna yatsu ga iru tte anshinshita ・・・

There was someone similar to me.... I was relieved/I felt relieved...

すぐに話しかけたかった･･･なんだか嬉しくてよ!

sugu ni hanashikaketakatta... nandaka ureshikuteyo!

I immediately wanted to talk to you... Somehow/somewhat I felt happy!!

When characters are nervous or shy about talking to someone, they often put their hands behind their heads as if rubbing their head or neck. Here, Naruto making the same gesture. But he never made this kind of shy gesture to anyone else. Why is he shy? Because Naruto was confessing that he always wanted to be like Sasuke and he found him strong and cool. He complimenting sasuke's look in person.

If Sasuke and Naruto felt like they were just friends or brothers... this 'I don't know why, For someone reason,without knowing why' would never exist. Sasuke is someone who actually had a brother, and he knows what it's like to have a brother. Naruto literally acted like a big brother to Konohamaru and He was someone who found many friends because of his hardwork and he knew what it feels like. And yet they can't say it out loud "why they feel a certain way for each other"

Sasuke begins to worry about Naruto way before they become friends, before having a proper conversation with Naruto. Also, they are not even connected by blood. The way they feel each other's pain and the conversation they have in KSA, Vote2 and Sasuke's monologue is not the way you would talk to your friend or brother. It's because they clearly love each other.

#Naruto analysis #narusasu #sasunaru #sns #my stuff #my rough translation

276 notes · View notes