#not. you will note ‘are you training?’ bc it should be a given that you ARE for thirteen miles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saleeba · 1 year ago

Text

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off.

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person.

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad.

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends.

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for.

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.”

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it.

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words.

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though.

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other.

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel.

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests.

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again.

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late.

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry.

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head.

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home.

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up.

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision.

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs.

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now.

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely.

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy.

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s.

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.”

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release.

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,”

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste.

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once.

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions.

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!�� you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones.

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail.

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.”

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

#girlies i’ve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! 🫶🏽#then again i’ve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . 😭😭😭#guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like ‘guys i-i’ve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this 🥺🥺' LMAO #ALSO omg im sorry abt the inconsistencies in tone + tempo i legit wrote this over a 5 month period + came back to it at times when i didnt #feel like writing + i was just tryna get to the good bit iykwim ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °)#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football imagine #footballer smut #footballer imagine

1K notes · View notes

agustdiv1ne · 1 year ago

Text

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful.

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being.

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get.

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe.

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could.

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now.

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane.

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different.

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.”

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends.

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to.

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies.

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you.

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight.

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior.

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again.

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool.

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too.

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck.

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him.

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears.

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway.

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow.

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it.

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become.

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek?

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.”

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly.

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks.

reality crashes down on his head.

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe.

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings.

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure.

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive.

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him.

at least, he likes to think that you do.

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold.

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning.

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace.

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel.

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him.

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster.

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself.

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win.

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious.

just a little innocent curiosity.

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch.

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv.

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on.

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again.

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually.

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate.

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize.

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep.

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now?

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused.

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck.

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward.

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—”

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?”

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?”

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action.

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him.

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad.

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck.

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.”

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead.

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away.

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough.

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it.

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?”

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever.

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want.

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore.

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you.

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick.

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you.

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner.

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off.

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty.

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips.

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does.

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #💌 — gyu #agust.nsfw

2K notes · View notes

qingyuns · 2 months ago

Text

song 23! midas touch + gojo satoru

boy, if i touch ya, kiss ya, watch out, the gaze that changed in an instant, you see, i got that midas touch —kiss of life

pairing: gojo satoru x reader, wc: 758, pre-relationship, very sweet, gn reader (shorter than gojo bc i assume most of you are), they're both down bad but don't really know it, gojo's infinity automatically perceives reader as a threat because of the potentially emotional vulnerable state they put him in, like getting butterflies in your stomach

part of my 2024 spotify wrapped event click link and request at @serafilms now :p

There's a strange sensation you've come to be familiar with recently. It's the feeling of pressing against something intangibly tangible, a non-solid barrier against your fingertips, against your arm, even against your back. There's no contact, and your touch-sensitive nerves remain inactive, but you can feel the pressure against them. You'd almost think it was some phantom feeling if the evidence wasn't there in front of your eyes.

As your hand reaches up to tap him on the shoulder, you're met with the same sensation again. Your fingers stop about three centimetres above the fabric of his jacket. The invisible barrier prevents you from bringing them closer.

Gojo turns his head to look at you, blue eyes peering over his sunglasses. Your eyes remain fixed on the place where your hand fails to meet his shoulder, mouth twisted in thought.

"What's up?" he prods, a brow raised.

You give a shake of your head as if to say, 'nothing', but your eyes stay fixed on the spot, as you raise your hand and bring it down with a little more force, mimicking a clap on the shoulder. It is the barrier that greets your palm once more.

"Uh, are you-"

"Why don't you ever turn your Infinity off around me?"

He blinks at you, white lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You stare back, unwavering.

"What?" As Gojo turns around to face you, your hand slides off his infinity and falls back to your side.

"You heard me."

He stares down at you, eyes a shock of blue that is barely concealed by the lenses.

"I didn't realise it was always up around you."

He's lying. You know he's lying. He knows you know he's lying. You're getting nowhere with this.

Your lips purse. "Do you see me as a threat to you?"

There's a pause that lasts for a little too long for your liking, before Gojo says, "No."

There it is. "So you do." Your investigation has reached a conclusion.

"I just said I didn't," he retorts.

"You paused."

Gojo says nothing, and you're sure you've found your answer.

But that still doesn't explain much. Gojo is literally Infinitely stronger than you, and you've never once given him any reason to think you want to hurt him.

"It's not that you're a threat," he says finally. You're surprised to note the way he's starting to look a little uncomfortable. "It's just, ugh. I don't know." He doesn't know?

You frown. "Let me touch you."

Gojo looks at you, and you can already sense the smirk that's about to appear, so you intercept it. "Shut up, you know what I mean. Turn your Infinity off."

His smirk drops and he shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. You raise an eyebrow. Gojo Satoru, squirming? Did hell freeze over?

"Fine," he concedes.

You wonder how you're supposed to tell that he's turned it off, but then he says, "Go ahead."

Well, now you're nervous.

Gojo Satoru is the definition of untouchable, in every sense of the word. Should you put your hand on his shoulder like before? Would it be better to go all the way in this experiment and touch his skin? Would that be weird?

"Um, where do I-"

"Here." Gojo puts out his hand in front of him, palm facing upwards. His shoulders seem tense. You're not quite sure why.

You wonder if his hand will be cool to the touch, or warm. Maybe it'll be calloused from all the training and fights, or maybe it'll be smooth. Does he use Infinity on his hands when fighting?

The sensation that follows is totally unfamiliar to you. So this is what it's like. Your fingers graze over his palm, sliding down to wrap around his hand, as your thumb traces the curve of his palm. Your eyes fixate on his hand in fascination, so you fail to notice the way Gojo freezes, his eyes locked on your face.

Oh, he thinks to himself. He finds himself slouching slightly, lanky frame sinking down to try and get a better look at your face. Warning tingles of electricity shoot down his spine, and he feels like his palm is beginning to sweat. He hopes you can't feel it.

Then, you look up. A smile graces your lips.

"Thank you, Satoru. For trusting me."

He feels his stomach flip in a way that's not entirely unpleasant, and he finds himself glad that you begin walking away before you can hear the choked sound that escapes him.

Fuck.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #serafilms’ spotify wrapped 2024 !

151 notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 29 days ago

Note

hi - looking to get more into reading history books instead of just researching online… do you have any tips on vetting books/authors for liberalism, racism, etc… in the past i’ve found this very hard to do with nonfiction before actually reading the book. are there publishers, etc i should be looking out for? esp bc there’s ideas/trains of thoughts/scholars i might not recognize as biased, liberal, conservative etc. if i’m not well-versed in the discourse of the subject.

in general if you are looking for refereed (peer-reviewed) academic nonfic, you are going to have to assume the texts will reflect not only the ideological values of the institutions (universities and university presses) that produce them, but also the winnowing effect that ensures only a select few people even get the opportunity to publish this way -- these individuals also have class interests and those tend to overlap heavily with those of the institutions, both because people who can make it to this stage of an academic career tend to be bourgeois and petit-bourgeois to begin with, and because even those who weren't almost invariably come down with a case of temporarily embarrassed petit-bourgeois syndrome sometime in between phd candidacy and book manuscript submission.

which is to say I really cannot give you a good vetting list to eliminate liberals and racists from your academic nonfic reading. sorry! you will spend a lot of time reading people you disagree with, people who did valuable archival research but interpret it in chronically liberal idealist ways, people who are right on one historical point and wrong on all the others, &c. even when I read the rare communist historian I can't remember ever co-signing the entirety -- this kind of criticism is just part of the process.

I do think, though, there are some helpful things you can look for that can cue you as to whether a book is worth reading critically or is just straight up trash. ymmv and this is definitely a non-exhaustive list but here's some of what I look for:

read the methodology notes in the intro. phrases like "contextualist history" (= social and economic context) are a good sign. "history from below" or "social history" also tend to be helpful (read: this book talks about 'ordinary people' and labourers, not just heads of state and military).

intros should also signpost if the book deals with colonialism and/or imperialism; look for substantive statements about these.

in rare cases in certain subfields you may see references to a distinction between 'internalist' (idealist, whiggish, great man histories) vs 'externalist' (contextualist) approaches.

everybody in history footnotes foucault, so that means nothing in any direction. anybody who footnotes marx positively in the last 30 or so years is at least going to be a fun time, but is often also a dipshit. scan for other big 'theory' names you may recognise -- even before you know the historiography, this can help indicate what you're getting into

you can also read intro + conclusion first, and that can help you gauge whether the chapters are worth it. not always perfectly indicative, though

academic presses are all clowns but if you read a lot in specific areas you will definitely start to get a sense of certain clusters of clownery if you're paying attention to the frontmatter. like for example if a history text came out of berkeley in the 90s it might still be stupid but I do kind of know what flavour of stupid it will be and what I can expect to extract from it

on that note, it literally is helpful to skim the acknowledgments at the beginning and idk why more people don't do this lol. look for names of scholars they credit as having given feedback (on manuscripts or conference presentations), as well as the name of their advisor if it's a first book. the first few times you do this you won't recognise any names and that's fine, but when you start to see repeats or see names you've read before you actually gain a lot of information right off the bat on the author's ideological and political milieux lol

look at what journals it was reviewed in. again reviews in flagship journals don't automatically mean it's good but it tells you about the intended audience, with all the baggage that entails

books reviewed in mass media (legacy newspapers, etc) tend to be aimed at a popular audience and are intended to be more readable, with less dense scholarly references and often thinner primary source work. again this doesn't mean the academic publications are automatically good.

zero shame in reading book reviews, either before or after reading the book. reviewers are part of the same clown system as authors and publishers. but seeing how other scholars talk about the book and topic is very helpful for clueing you into what sorts of debates are happening in the field, what their ideological parameters are, and how the author in question comes down on them

you are allowed and even required to disagree if an author is wrong lol. I would say the no. 1 thing I run across in what I read is like, decent to good historical work on racialisation but the interpretation will be completely distorted by the author being a horrendous liberal who does in fact think that 'race' has some biological reality (while often not believing that they even hold this belief, lmao). when you start seeing arguments like this it's your cue to follow the footnotes and look at the data and archival material included in the book. and if there's none that's just bad methodology!

#research and methods

68 notes · View notes

partycatty · 10 months ago

Text

kenshi takahashi > we should know better

warnings: smut :3 sneaky link type shit, possible ooc kenshi bc i know he's reserved but i couldn't get this idea out of my head

notes: i need him so BAYD. hot take, kenshi's hotter than johnny but johnny has a more appealing personality LOL

[ masterlist ]

• kenshi knew better, he knew so much better than to indulge in the sweet little vice you were.

• he was quiet, you were quieter. kung lao and raiden had each other and fengjian, johnny had his fans, and kenshi had a corrupt family ensnared in dangerous practices. for the most part, he was on his own... and for the first time in a long time, there was someone who knew what that was like.

• kenshi expected to think low of the other chosen earthrealmers, not too worried about the competition given his skills and history. but you... you had some bite to you, and kenshi would often find himself aching to the thought of your strength and resilience.

• with a trained ear and shielded eyes courtesy of his forearm, kenshi would slowly pump at his cock in the late hours, drool collecting in his mouth at the thought of you milking him or all he's worth with your soft, plump lips.

• that, or stretching your needy cunt so wide and slapping the tears away from your plush, rosy cheeks. low grunts slipped from his throat as he painted his palm, pathetically wishing to fill you with his cum and thrust it back into your pussy.

• nothing ever undid him like you before, had him so winded by the curves of your body that he'd start to fall behind on training or arrive at odd times from the loss of sleep. upon confrontation, he'd give a gruff rumble about sleeping in or any other pathetic excuse he could muster up with the stoicism he had left.

• just who the hell did you think you were? you had no right to distract kenshi the way you do, but it's not even like you're trying. he wants, no, needs to feel you, maybe then he'll be satiated and clear-headed.

• the day came where you hinted at your shared desires, throwing a flirty comment his way when you were out of earshot from the others. one knowing glance and the sway of your hips was all it took to have kenshi stand in your doorway, tongue heavy in his mouth as he awaits plunging it into your core. he can't find the words to express it, so he instead stands there and hopes you understand the shared intentions.

• you're at each other like animals, clawing away the orange robes and kissing so harshly your lips are properly wet when you pull away for air.

• as much as kenshi wants to take his time, his cock practically aches so hard it hurts in his pants, and grinding it against you isn't getting him where he needs to be.

• he's shy about his carnal desire, too afraid to make eye contact so he puts his palm pressing into your back to force an arch, sometimes even holding your head onto the sheets as he drills into you from behind. the way your ass bounces against his hips leaves him nearly cross-eyed, pleasing him beyond what he could do to himself.

• these become common occurrences, kenshi lumbering in your doorway with a heavy look about him. odd hours of the night became your favorite because you knew it was another night of so many orgasms you'd tunnel vision.

• you're absolutely addictive, making his jaw clench and arms cross tight against his body when he side-eyes you during training. if one of the boys even thinks about drawing your private attention, you're swept off into the gardens where you'll be fucked to tears, pussy molded perfectly to his cock and his cock only.

• it was the only time he'd ever call you his. he wouldn't be physically affectionate, not much anyway. he'd sleep through the night but disappear before morning, whether to avoid suspicion or avoid confrontation you couldn't decipher.

• as good as the dick was, you didn't want a situationship, you wanted more. kenshi was nearly impossible to read at times, scowling your way as if he wasn't tongue-fucking you the night prior. you want to ask him what his deal is, what you two are, but his presence is quite intimidating otherwise.

• liu kang speaks of the tournament, the thing that brought everyone here in the first place. as you exchange glances with the boys, you finally land on kenshi, brows knitted in concern. what was to come of you two ate away at you, and there was an underlying fear that once the tournament was over, you'd return home and he'd go back to japan. the so-called meaningless sex would claw away at you forever as you'd dream about what could've been.

• your mouth feels sewn shut, as much as you want to ask all the questions burning away at you, but kenshi just stares ahead, expression never faltering.

• he couldn't look at you, he couldn't bring himself to face the idea of losing you... but he didn't quite know how to escape the situation he built. would you even accept him for who he really is beyond the sex? was it really meaningless? kenshi wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #kenshi takahashi smut #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #is it obvious i watched brokeback mountain today #because that inspired me #marley writes ☆

170 notes · View notes

heloflor · 6 months ago

Text

Ok so last week I saw the videos/screenshots talking about fop Peri which got me a bit curious about this show, and after seeing “Battle of the Dimmsonian” and especially the Cosmo-Wanda-Peri part of “Lost in Fairy World” (there’s someone on Tumblr posting clips of all the Peri-centric moments since his debut), I was genuinely impressed with how the characters were written and I wanted to gush about them! On top of doing some overanalysis of those characters. Btw I also saw some clips from “Operation: Birthday Takeback” (again the Cosmo-Wanda-Peri side of it).

So here’s a post talking about Cosmo and Wanda’s relationship with Peri, Peri in general, Peri with Dev and a few other random thoughts about the early episodes given this made me start to watch the show (ended up making it its own post), though I haven’t gone far yet (I’m on like episode 5-6, which is episode 4a or something). On that note, take what I say in this post with a HUGE grain of salt since I don’t have the full context for Dev’s character arc.

Tl;Dr: The Fairywinkle-Cosmas are adorable, loving but also realistic in their portrayal.

Peri is the definition of “20 years-old who recently left his parents’ home” and I love him for it.

Dev and Peri are a terrible match due to Peri’s inexperience, Dev not taking him seriously, and Dev’s daddy issues making it hard for him to connect with a fairy who has loving parents.

(Btw on top of the characters moments, what made me start to watch the show is also the fact it’s apparently incredibly wholesome and fun + apparently the writers of “Infi//nity Train” worked on it (and if that’s true it’s crazy how nobody is talking about it to bring in new fans; I mean remember when the Duck//tales reboot came out and everyone pointed out how the writers of Gra//vity Falls worked on it? We should do the same thing here, at least again if it’s true) + Hartman isn’t involved and it’s hilarious how the creator of those characters not getting involved is a good thing)

Oh and spoilers for “Battle of the Dimmsonian”, “Lost in Fairy World” and “Operation: Birthday Takeback”! (4.6k Words below)

Ok so “Lost In Fairy World” and why I love its characters’ writing so much. I’m actually going to start by the lesson at the end and build from there as it seems like the best way to get a train of thought going.

So the lesson of the episode for me was basically a “new hire vs experienced employees” with a second layer added due to the three fairies being family, and that’s already something I really appreciate!

By the end of the episode, Cosmo and Wanda learn that they need to back off and let Peri do his thing. He’s an adult, he got hired for a reason, let him do his own trial and error and learn his own way. But at the same time, Peri shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help or advice if he needs it, the more experienced people are here for that! And again, there’s the family layer to that discussion that I really like, with Cosmo and Wanda being particularly clingy bc Peri is their son, while Peri is particularly embarrassed to ask them for help because they’re his parents, probably not helped by the fact he likely very recently left their home and seeks his independence.

And that’s another thing I absolutely love after watching this episode and “Battle of the Dimmsonian”, with “Operation: Birthday Takeback” adding to it as well: Honestly, Peri has to be one of the most realistic depictions of “20-something who just left his parents’ house” I’ve ever seen (yeah I don’t watch much stuff outside of cartoons, working on that). They somehow managed to make him very clearly be an adult with adult responsibilities, all the while giving him a level of inexperience and immaturity that reminds you he’s still young.

Giving some examples, the way he talks in general makes it obvious he’s an adult, and when introducing himself to Dev + telling him he can’t visit Fairy World in “Lost in Fairy World”, he has that suave put-together personality to himself. But at the same time this suave personality crumbles the second Dev opens him mouth.

And on top of that, Peri’s one day into his job and his already exhausted, spends the entirety of his debut episode worrying about what his parents will think of his career choice, and in stressful situations tends to turn towards others for help very quickly (reading Da Rules, low-key panicking a bit and looking at his parents in “Lost in Fairy World”, hiding when facing Vicky, moments like those).

There are also those moments where he either acts or sounds childish (with his voice even getting a bit higher), like when Wanda asks if he has a godkid plus him hiding behind his wand right before that, and earlier on when he didn’t want them to see him, the “my wand is missing” line and tracker line in “Lost in Fairy World” (the “sowwy” when telling them his tracker is off tho), the ending of this episode as well when he apologizes to them, also when his parents tell Jorgen that Peri did nothing wrong and he lets them take the fall, or that moment in “Operation: Birthday Takeback” when he goes “moooom” with a whine.

That’s actually something I absolutely love about those interactions, and why I find them realistic. It could have been SO easy for the writers to make Peri act like an adult all the time while his parents are the coddling cringy kind that make him look like a kid. But instead, it comes from both sides. You can clearly tell from how Cosmo and Wanda act that he’s their baby boy, but you can also see from Peri’s dialogues and actions that they are his parents. And I am so happy they took this direction!

So yeah, Peri is the most “young adult who just left the nest” ever and I absolutely adore this characterization. He’s an adult with a job and responsibilities, but he’s still young and can find himself relying on his parents or talking to them in a childish way. Such good character work!

Another thing I love about their dynamic that we see very well in “Lost in Fairy World” is just how much those three love each other. That’s something I did hear about this show, that it was a lot more fun and sweet (compared to the og which could be very cruel and cynical when it wanted), and you can really see it with those three.

With Cosmo and Wanda taking over Peri’s job, you can tell they’re not doing it out of any malice or feeling that Peri can’t do it. Heck if you pause at the scene where Peri tells Dev he can’t go to Fairy World, after he’s done talking and right before Cosmo takes another picture, you can see Cosmo and Wanda looking at Peri with the biggest smile (and it’s adorable!). And it’s the same with the rest of the episode. If anything, they’re so used to taking care of godkids that they just do it out of habit, without realizing they’re causing an issue.

Heck I’d even theorize that their behavior is partly due to their time with Timmy, hence it being a force of habit. For a long time (possibly 50 years if that one secret wish is canon), Poof/Peri was with his parents helping with Timmy, but he wouldn’t do much besides granting wishes. Poof couldn’t talk, so most of the time he’d just stand there while his parents did all of the talking. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of this was the reason why Cosmo and Wanda are straight up talking over Peri in “Lost in Fairy World”, they just got used to do so when taking care of Timmy and are now getting back into this habit.

On top of that, Cosmo and Wanda are just excited to finally be with their son again after their 10 thousand years-long vacation. Plus, when Peri does call them out, by the end of it they acknowledge their mistake and apologize, promising to back off. And while they remain cuddly towards him, from the looks of it they did stop coming in-between Peri and Dev, letting their son do his thing.

Also worth noting that, despite doting on Peri, they still very much talk to him like they would talk to an adult. Yes they hug him a lot (and I mean a lot) and call him pet names, and they were definitely excited to see him again in “Lost in Fairy World”, but other than that they clearly respect him as an adult, listening to him and trusting him. I’m not going to list examples because it’s basically every dialogue in which they don’t “baby” him. That being said I feel like “Operation: Birthday Takeback” displays it the best from what I’ve seen of it.

As for Peri’s side on this, he’s annoyed by his parents stepping in but it’s obvious he doesn’t hate them at all, quite the opposite. He just wants them to take him seriously as an adult, which is understandable. Also the fact he isn’t afraid to call them out is a very good sign. On that note, I love how when telling them his tracker is off, he actually apologizes (though he doesn’t have to, his reasoning for turning it off is understandable, and I appreciate he tells them those reasons!).

Also I live for that scene at the beginning of “Operation: Birthday Takeback” when his parents ask for a tour of the house (btw love Wanda telling him they’re ready to get him out of there if needed), they show interest in his suggestion, which makes Peri smile sheepishly. It’s such a cute moment and to me really shows Peri wanting to be seen as an adult and enjoying being seen that way by them, but also how he’s clearly attached to them! Idk it’s just a very cute moment! I love those three!

Also kind of a last minute addition before moving to Peri and Dev but looking at “Operation: Birthday Takeback”, I can’t help but laugh at how at the very beginning, the second the godkids are doing their own thing, Cosmo and Wanda throw themselves at their son. It’s very sweet. Also I love the implication that they’re here bc they’re Hazel’s godparents and need to stay with her, but also they really wanted any excuse to see their son!

And the reason why I say last minute addition is because this made me realize that Cosmo and Wanda do act pretty differently towards the godkids compared to Peri, which I find to be an interesting detail that makes their characters more complex in a way. Like yes, Cosmo and Wanda are very parental types, but to an extent you can see a line between them being with their godkids, who they are here to mentor and steer in the right direction for a few months until the kid is happy, and them being with their son, who they raised from infancy and isn’t going anywhere.

Now that’s not to say that Cosmo and Wanda don’t love their godkids, it’s obvious how much they adore those kids and care for them and probably remember each and every single one of them, but yeah you can still see a bit of a difference. At the very least, from what I’ve seen so far they can’t help but hug Peri literally everytime they have an excuse to do so, while having a bit more boundaries with Hazel.

But again, that’s a last minute thought and I’ve only seen a handful of episodes, so I might be wrong on that. Take it with a grain of salt. Still, I find it interesting to have those characters who are basically social workers and how there’s a bit of a difference between the kids they take care of for their “job” and the kid they have in their personal life. Again, that’s not to say they aren’t attached to the godkids, they are.

But yeah, all of this to say, the way the Fairywinkle-Cosma family is written in “Lost in Fairy World” honestly blew me away and really got me invested into watching this show, with “Battle of the Dimmsonian” and “Operation: Birthday Takeback” only adding to it (and I’m probably looking way too much into this and making it sound like the writing of this episode is much deeper than it actually is; I’m obsessed with this disaster (affectionate) of a family, help).

As for the part about Peri and Dev, basically there’s an element of Cosmo and Wanda talking over Peri in “Lost in Fairy World” that I wanted to explore, but then “Operation: Birthday Takeback” came out and there’s that moment in the “breakup” scene where Dev talks about his father not noticing his fairy while Peri is being hugged by his parents in the background. And while this is a visual gag, Cosmo and Wanda’s action in this scene actually fits very well thematically and made me realize something about how Dev might feel about Peri.

So now you’re getting a whole section about how Dev and Peri are a terrible match for each other, due to three main reasons:

1. The one everyone already talked about, Peri is severly underqualified. While you could say he’s been a godparent since he was a baby, back then all he did was grant wishes while his parents dealt with the talking + emotional support. Not only was he doing a small part of the job, he also had his parents, other more qualified fairies, helping him. Also the scene with Vicky tells us that Peri doesn’t have the best memories of his time as a baby, which is fair enough.

(note that I believe he was 7-8 years old when he had to say goodbye to Timmy, so he does remember him. As for Vicky, Timmy’s parents likely stopped hiring her once their son was 13-14, hence why Peri only has blurry memories of her, he would’ve been a toddler at best by then)

So yeah, Dev is Peri’s first kid, and Peri is not qualified for him. He loses his patience with the cupcakes, bites back when Dev is short and snappy with him (the classroom scene at the end of the “under//tale” episode, yeah I haven’t watched this one outside of this scene; and the beginning of “Operation: Birthday Takeback” with the flying shoes) and don’t get me started on Peri telling Dev in “Battle of the Dimmsonian” to give the staff back because “what will my parents say if my first godkid dies on me!”

Like PERI??? MAYBE DON’T SAY TO THE KID WITH ABANDONMENT ISSUES THAT YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT HIS WELLBEING BECAUSE YOU WANT TO IMPRESS YOUR PARENTS??? JUST A THOUGHT???

(note that I do believe Peri cares for Dev, it’s just that what he says here really comes off as him not caring, and since Dev is the one hearing what Peri says in that scene...)

Also obviously there’s the ending of “Operation: Birthday Takeback”. Tbh I don’t blame Peri much for this one since, again, he’s severely underqualified, but yeah his response to Dev’s wish was not the right one, which is reflected by Dev reacting with a frustrated scream which honestly made me feel bad for this kid. Peri going “as you wish” is just too distant and “professional”. That’s a kid in a vulnerable state! He needed comfort! Sure Peri had to go because Dev literally wished for it, but a more qualified fairy would have known what to say, if only something along the lines of “take all the time you need, I’ll be there for you once you feel better”.

So yeah, Dev is deeply hurting and a complete newbie who doesn’t have the patience or positivity for it was not going to make things better.

2. What I originally wanted to say about “Lost in Fairy World” before 3. showed its head: I think Cosmo and Wanda being around inadvertently makes things worse for the duo.

Thing is, Dev is a difficult kid. Because of that, I think that in order for him to open up to his fairy, said fairy needs to earn his respect so to speak. And not to say Dev’s fairy should be full on authoritative, but yeah they definitely need to be someone Dev respects and listens to, which is not the case for Peri. And I think the main reason why has to do with Peri’s relationship with his parents.

Basically, kids are smarter than we give them credit for and are observant as well. And what did Dev see his fairy do? Spend the first day on the job being terrified of meeting his parents who turned out to be incredibly sweet people. Then in “Lost in Fairy World” it honestly looks like Peri, Cosmo and Wanda just wanted to catch up and brought the kids for the heck of it, and Dev gets to see his fairy being babied by his parents, along with said parents talking over him. Then as said before there’s also Peri going “mooom” in front of Dev in “Operation: Birthday Takeback”.

And about “Lost in Fairy World”, there’s that moment in the beginning where Cosmo and Wanda tell Dev he can’t go to fairy world, only for Peri to step in and basically repeat the exact same thing as his parents (the “trial” part from Cosmo and “I can’t let you go” from Wanda). And while this line is a joke, I do think it’s important for Peri to put his foot down like that.

Because yeah, Peri is the one Dev should be listening to. It’s not just a question of “this is Peri’s job”, it’s also about Dev seeing Peri as an adult. But with Cosmo and Wanda, it’s a bit more complicated.

This is also another element I really like about this episode, Peri needing to be the one doing the talking so that Dev can take him seriously as a potential guardian.

But yeah, the thing is, it’s not working. Peri’s immaturity shines with his lack of patience for the kid, which Dev picks up on, leading the two of them to get snappy with each other on “even ground” in a way, which doesn’t help Peri’s case. And on top of that you have Cosmo and Wanda, who even with their eccentric side remain mature adults (and I love how them being eccentric doesn’t make them seem any less adult; love adults being allowed to have fun and be themselves without being shamed or called childish for it!).

Now as far as I’m aware the show never really talks about this, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Cosmo and Wanda being around played a role in Dev’s perception of Peri. Not only because of them being mushy parents as previously discussed, but also because they are clearly older and more experienced than Peri, making it harder for Dev to take Peri seriously. Hopefully this makes sense?

And speaking of Dev with Cosmo and Wanda, I actually get the feeling he somewhat respects them? At least more than Peri? And on that note, there’s that scene at the very beginning of “Operation: Birthday Takeback” that I find both adorable but also pretty depressing when it comes to Dev.

When Cosmo, Wanda and Hazel show up, they ask if Dev’s dad is here, to which he mentions “Project H”. And at that Cosmo makes a comment about this project being a big surprise party, and yeah this moments gets me.

Because for a second there, Dev actually smiles. He knows that what his dad is doing has nothing to do with the party, he says so himself in response to Cosmo, but he still smiles, because he understands that Cosmo is trying to cheer him up and appreciates the effort. Idk this gets me, especially also seeing the way Wanda and Peri are looking wary as Cosmo keeps talking, clearly unsure of how Dev will react.

Like am I making a big deal out of a ten seconds moment? Probably. But there’s just something about this sad kid closing himself off whenever his problems are brought up, acting like an entitled brat most of the time as a coping mechanism, yet when this random adult he vaguely knows tries to cheer him up, he’s able to understand it and appreciate it. Idk, again, it just gets me. And sadly it really shows how bad of a match Peri and Dev are. Peri hasn’t been able to get any sort of progress with this kid, but the second his dad shows up and talks a bit suddenly the kid is giving a sincere smile. Yeah…

Now granted in regards to Dev respecting Cosmo and Wanda more, it might also have to do with them not being his godparents, considering Dev is basically using Peri as some sort of servant at times since he’s a spoiled brat and all.

Finally for this part, I want to bring up that scene in the secret lair with Vicky showing up, because to me this is a very good example of Peri actually failing Dev, which in this case will make the kid not take him seriously (on top of not earning his trust and being frustrated with him).

Now I will say, I can’t blame Peri for panicking the way he does upon seeing Vicky (btw I forgot to mention it earlier but the way he goes “lalala” and continues while turning into a drone and looking at the banging door in horror is so real. Again Peri is peak young adult energy). He’s had to deal with that woman since he was a literal infant, of course he’s going to be traumatized!

Still, Dev doesn’t know that. All he knows is that there’s this scary lady his and Hazel’s fairies know about, but he has no idea what history is between them outside of “she was terrible to our previous kid and scares us”. Also he’s 10 and has a bad home-life making him selfish, I don’t think he can fully understand the adults around him being traumatized.

But yeah, all this to say, in this scene, Peri is completely paralyzed, hiding behind the others waiting for Vicky to leave, letting his parents do the talking. And yep, we yet again go back to Cosmo and Wanda being the mature adults around here. Also worth noting that once Vicky puts on the nice act, Hazel stops being afraid of her but Dev still looks intimidated!

In that moment, Peri should have been there to protect Dev. That’s his job as a godfairy. His kid was scared and in potential danger. Yet Peri did absolutely nothing. Instead he stayed hidden, technically behind his kid which means using Dev as cover, and who came to both his and Dev’s rescue? Cosmo and Wanda, the other two fairies in the room, who are clearly more mature and are Peri’s parents.

And again, I don’t blame Peri for being paralyzed in fear like that, but how do you explain that to Dev? How do you tell that kid that he’s braver than his adult magical all-powerful fairy? That while he had to stand and somewhat confront Vicky, that adult fairy that’s supposed to protect him went hiding behind mommy and daddy? Hell from what I’ve seen, earlier in the episode the kids do stand up to Vicky, which makes Peri’s actions worse!

So yeah, hopefully this whole part makes sense as it feels a bit like a mess. The main takeaway here is that Dev needs a fairy that he can see as an almost parental figure, someone he clearly views as an adult and respects as such, that way he can have someone he can trust and be comfortable with, easing him into breaking down his walls. But Peri isn’t any of that. He’s a young adult which makes him still quite immature, and on top of that his parents basically live next door, thus leading Dev to see his fairy getting treated like a kid. It just can’t work out between them as long as they stay like that.

3. Finally, the part related to that moment of Dev talking about his dad while looking at the fairies: Dev has some serious daddy issues related to his father never paying attention to him on account of being a piece of shit who only cares about himself. And the thing is, Dev doesn’t have anyone he can relate to on that front (saying this since it’s hard for him to open up, so having someone with similar issues could be a bit of a push for him).

Hazel has caring parents whose main issue is being busy, on top of her fairies who clearly love her and spend a lot of time taking care of her. Now I haven’t seen much of the school kids but also Dev isn’t exactly close to any of them apparently? Meaning that in any case he can’t relate to them.

Then there’s this fairy that shows up, meant to cater to him but also help him emotionally, and wouldn’t you know this guy talks about wanting to impress his parents and being afraid of them! No but seriously, thinking about it, I can’t help but wonder if for a moment Dev thought he and Peri could bond over family issues, at least subconsciously. But nope! As soon as Peri reunites with his folks, turns out they’re the sweetest most loving parents ever.

I’m actually surprised that from the looks of it the show doesn’t draw a parallel between Dev and Peri on that front. I mean you have a kid with an incredibly absent parent who wants nothing more than to get his dad’s attention, being taken care of by a fairy who finds his parents’ attention suffocating and just wants them to leave him alone. There’s interesting storytelling potential here, especially when taking into account how much those two struggle to get along (basically Peri’s family situation making Dev feel worse in a way due to his confusion as to why Peri puts a bit of distance between himself and his parents)

Which loops back to that scene at the end of “Operation: Birthday Takeback” with Peri getting hugged by his parents while Dev is opening up about his daddy issues and how this visual gag fits the theme of the scene. Dev is feeling like shit about his father not loving him meanwhile the fairy that’s supposed to take care of him is being cuddled by his incredibly loving parents who adore him.

On that note, there’s an element I haven’t touched on in this episode, and it’s the fact that Hazel and Dev were in trouble with Vicky but didn’t have their fairies to protect them due to the trio visiting the house. While this scene is another example of Peri failing Dev, what I find most interesting about it is the fact that Peri “abandoned” Dev to spend time with his parents. Idk, I can’t help but think that this detail twists the knife even further for Dev. Not only was his fairy not here to protect him, but his absence is due to him hanging out with his parents who love him and wanted to spend time with him.

Speaking of which, I wonder if Dev is also angry at the fact that Cosmo and Wanda are able to take care of Hazel and be there for her whenever she needs while still finding the time to hang out with their son and be involved in his life. In a way it’s further proof that Dale is an atrocious parent, at least when taking into account Dev’s pov since I doubt a kid his age spends a lot of time hanging out with other parents, so Cosmo and Wanda are basically the only couple he can compare his father to. Basically I could see Dev noticing how much Cosmo and Wanda do and it making him feel even worse about why his dad doesn’t love him the same.

But yeah all this to say, just like everyone else in his life, Peri can’t understand Dev’s issues with his father, issues that are the core reason why he has a fairy in the first place. On top of that, Peri not only has the one thing Dev wants, but the kid sees him push it away on numerous occasions.

And that’s the end of what I wanted to say here. Hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess since I’m writing this while sick + sleep-deprived due to illness + haven’t watched much of the show past a few episodes and the clips on Tumblr.

On that note, yet again please take this post with a grain of salt, especially the Dev-Peri part. I originally just planned on gushing about “Lost in Fairy World” and how much I love the Fairywinkle-Cosma in it, but seeing the ending of “Operation: Birthday Takeback” made me want to talk a little more about Dev. That being said given how little I’ve watched there’s probably a lot I’m missing about this kid, so by no means do I think this analysis is perfect (also, the fact I’m writing this while ill…). Now Dev does seem to be a “predictable” character, hence why I feel somewhat comfortable writing this despite seeing so little, but again I might be wrong.

(Btw when I say Dev is predictable I’m in no way saying it negatively, quite the opposite! I love that him getting a fairy low-key made him worse, and I’m very curious as to how they’re going to resolve him spiraling the way he’s currently doing.)

In any case, thanks for reading!

#fop #fop a new wish #fairly oddparents a new wish #fop a new wish spoilers #fop spoilers #Flor talks #long post #Fairly Oddparents #really hoping this post makes sense #like while writing I was into it but afterwards it's like 'I didn't even watch it what am I even talking about ?'#this is what happens when you just want to talk about one episode but end up bringing up three others #still happy with what I wrote tho; even if it's likely wrong #the thing I'm most 'worried' about is when I call some of this stuff realistic #can't help but be like ''but is it tho ? do I know enough to confidently say that ?''#btw since I forgot to point it out : I wrote this before seeing the Ir//ep episode; hence no mentions of it #though from the clips I've seen the thing it would bring to this post is more proof that Dev and Peri are a mess #and that Peri needs to be less immature for the sake of this child

85 notes · View notes

opal-owl-flight · 6 months ago

Note

Can you please tell us more about Neo4. What's their background.

“I need your help.”

Thing is -- I dont exactly own that character! Hes owned by @pastille-pain ... I asked them abt his deets, so here it is under the readmore!

His recruitment by 3 is also under the readmore :) (+more notes abt pre-sploon3)

(From my pal)

My Precious Soy Sauz

Aka croissant

Where he comes from is inkopolis

Lived there his whole life actually. A very sheltered kid due to being raised by grandparents that were in Octaria at one point. So they wanted to make sure nothing really happened to him

An only child but he had his cousin (Nakji, Takoyaki) of the three, he'd be the middle child with Nakji and the youngest.

He's got two friends (three if we count malachite -- the smallfrt) outside of the platoon. Dulce, and (unfortunately) Scara

He dating Melon (oc of mine), we know this

Kinda funny it started as her just battling with him cause he was good but then it turned something more

His time before the platoon was mostly

"Hey are you related to that Sauz idol?" Or "hey, you related to that Sauz wrestler?" It got annoying very quickly so he started introducing himself as croissant and nothing else

Aside from that, if he wasn't turfing he was at home reading or watching shows. Guys a very boring person

He's a pretty big OTH fan...

All this above is still the same even while being apart of the platoon minus the constant questions about his relatives and adding college into the mix

He can do some really cool shit when he's focused (like absolutely demolish competition in turf) but he's also easily distracted so I think you can imagine how that goes

His stress relief is shopping (mostly window shopping, very rarely does he actually buy anything)

He never gets too mad but we know the face if he does

Fun fact, you will never catch this man in pants

Short and anything else

Not pants

The only time he's ever seen wearing pants is in his agent gear and that's cause it's what was given to him.

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

Heres a bonus too, of 3s recruitment of him!

It was a turfing match, and theyve been watching the krak-on user the whole round. They took note of how he responded to stress, to bad calls, and how he acted on his own following calls he had judged as bad. Once it was over, they followed the team into the lobby.

They stand tall against the doorframe theyre leaning against, presence as cold and as commanding as ever.

(Nevermind that Croissant is taller AND older than them, that squid is intimidating as FUCK)

A whistle, calling the team over.

"|May I have a word?|" they sign, "|Ive been watching your team turf for the last few rounds.|"

Scara, the team captain, spits a "Who the FUCK are you."

3s eyebrows raise in surprise. But they should expect it... casual turfers dont usually know their name.

They went to the smaller leagues for a reason. If something happened to a big name in the scene, and its found that they had something to do with it-

No. No. They mentally shake their head. They are NOT picking this person because they are going to be fucking canon fodder.

"|Who I am is not important. Not much, anyway.

I am... interested in one of your teammates.|"

a nod towards Croissant. "|As a krak-on user myself, his performance has impressed me.|"

"Has he now. You seen our losses?? Are you making fun of us??"

"I can train my team perfectly, all by myself. Get lost."

They give a cold stare back. "|Im sure that has worked very well for you thus far.|"

The captain didnt seem to want to back down. 3 continues, ear twitching.

"|This request was not aimed towards you, anyway. Im asking him.|"

"BUT-"

"|I want to hear HIS answer.|"

A test. 3 saw that Scara was pushing him around and the only reason they won the match was bc Croissant decided to go his own way. Will he go his own way now?

"Well I know he'll choose to stick with me-"

"Oh I'd love to train with you I like helping others :D"

"You weren't supposed to say that."

3 nods. "|It begins now. Come. We have much to discuss. And as for you.|"

They clack their beak. "|Captain to captain. You need to listen to your teammates more.|"

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

Once they are in a more private space...

"|Training is only one part of the deal.

I apologize for not being upfront. This is a matter of national security, and I cannot mention much about it beyond base.|"

I suppose Croissant hasnt heard...or at least, isnt into much of the so-called Hero of Inkadia thats plastered everywhere in Inkopolis? If he was, hed at least start thinking of all that being like... "wait all that media was based on something real???"

(3 mentioning national security and a base may also inspire thoughts of "wow this squid's a fucking nerd...")

"|You are free to reject my request if you feel unfit for the task at hand. But where are my manners? I have yet to formally introduce myself.

Topside, I am known as FOR3VRFRSH. Here, I am the Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

I suppose youve heard of such a force...? No?|

Mm.

|Just know that we keep Inkadia more or less safe from nation-destroying threats.|"

He accepts the offer... but he also wasn't thinking too hard on it cause he saw an opportunity to step away from Scara and took it immediately.

3 nods, beckoning him towards the sewer line. As they walked backwards into base, they signed to him. "|From this point onwards, you will be referred to as Agent...Four.|"

Theres a very slight waver of their hand as they signed the number.

"|You show much promise, from what Ive observed in turf. Dont disappoint me.|"

"The only person I disappoint is that guy, but he's just very critical-"*

Theres a glint in 3s eye, a look of amusement... "|...Overly critical is putting it lightly.|"

"I promise to do my best still."

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

3 introduces him as the new Agent 4 and I feel Marie just scrunches her nose a bit. Then sees the look in 3s eye...

To the folks from the regions around 3s home (Callie, Marie, Cuttlefish), theyre not subtle about missing her.

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #splatoon oc #opal owl’s nest

55 notes · View notes

starchants · 5 months ago

Note

hi! i hope you’re doing well. i was wondering if i could request some angelus hcs? maybe something like being angels gf and how it would be dating angelus or something? i’m sorry i’m horrible at requests. i hope this makes sense.

angelus x female!reader ; hot evil vampire and you are dating.

word count — 1,146.

themes + warnings ; hot evil vampire stalking but like in a good way if that makes sense? some men are creeps as a warning too, also some small possessive nature takes place here — putting that as a warning bc some people don’t personally like that! female reader if y’all couldn’t tell by the request!

author’s note — you made perfect sense my dear <3! i honestly got super excited seeing this so i hope you enjoy!

support mention ; if you feel like supporting, a nice ‘like’ will suffice on my blog, i know some writers love to ask nicely if you could reblog or comment etc. yet on my blog (no hate towards them as everyone likes appreciation in different ways), but if you’d like to reblog or comment feel free after all this is a safe space for any fan-individual to have fun :’)

masterlist

so let’s just establish the fact as of this headcanon section, you’ve been in a relationship with angel for a few months and you have yet to see angelus popping up during this time yet angel had been open enough with you to let you know about the dark side of him.

it’s late at night upon a school night, nearly midnight, and you know damn well you should be heading back to your room (whether bedroom or dorm you decide) but you decide that perhaps another loop around the town wouldn’t be too terrible especially since angel was willingly busy helping your friend willow with a history lesson as she demanded to know the real truth from someone who had experienced that part of history.

you had heard a low whistle as you crossed the street as you were determined to see if your favorite cafe was still offering any of your beloved treats before they closed at midnight and you felt yourself mentally freeze while you physically kept walking. footsteps fell behind you from a few feet away on the sidewalk and you felt a pair of eyes upon you from both the sidewalk along with one from an upper level yet you thought you were going crazy as nobody could be upon the roof.

you see angel had to cut the history lesson with willow short, as for some reason he couldn’t shake the thought of you wandering around alone out of his head, which lead to angelus peeking out and in a dick-headed way had announced to willow that he was over it and was leaving. now here he was having been following you for the past few blocks upon the rooftops before his eyes zeroed in upon the drunk young adult in a dark grey hoodie who stumbled along following you in the direction of what he knew was your favorite cafe.

oh hell no, angelus would think to himself, only i am allowed to follow my stór and he would hear his mother whisper in the wind to do whatever he could to protect his beloved treasure. he would be quick to speed ahead and jump down into a nearby alleyway only to casually pop out of it and lovingly call for you before he would make it obvious that he saw the creepy man behind you.

our beloved obnoxious vampire would be quick to loudly question “are you alright my stór? i can’t have my wife being all upset now can i?” he’d claim you as his spouse in order to get the creepy guy to realize he was making a fatal mistake, this would be a little bit of angel coming out to ensure that angelus wouldn’t go too far. you’d be quick to realize that this isn’t angel due to the fact that he never really gave you a nickname besides lover or my lover, not to mention the fact that his irish accent peaked out a bit more with the newly given name. this was angelus in all his glory and you couldn’t help but childishly grin as you knew that he finally stepped forward.

you would watch as he stepped towards the man who dared to keep stepping closer with his drunken eyes trained upon you and you would watch as a wide smirk casted itself upon angelus’ face as he grabbed the drunk by his own hoodie and slammed his face against the nearby brick of a closed store. you’d watch as his vampiric face came to light and you’d watch as he’d drain the drunken man nearly empty and you couldn’t help the childish giggle that escaped you upon the sight. which you had deemed as odd and unexpected but it made you happy to see the wild yet bloody grin you got from angelus as he dropped the body and turned toward you.

from that moment on, angelus would make it his mission to take over angel whenever he deemed it necessary as their girl happened to like his chaotic brutal nature.

i feel like angelus would be more willing to open up about his backstory with you, as opposed to angel, and he would tell you about how he decided to take the name that his mother would have given him upon his birth.

it’s never a dull moment being in a relationship with angelus. you’ll have to get used to others being rude to you as you watch your chaotic boy go off and play his games — his games that he wouldn’t dare to use on you, sure maybe a lil manipulation if the moment called for it in order to persuade you to perhaps get to safety or not do something too wreckless, but outside of that he wouldn’t use any games on you. after all, you’re his beloved stór, and he wouldn’t wanna tarnish his treasure.

this one is down for literally anything you wanna do, even like i said it’s too wreckless for you to do ; he would want to do it in place of you after he tells you off about it. if you couldn’t tell from earlier in this post, if you wanna walk around or run around during the night, you’re gonna have a six foot shadow following you around to ensure your safety. he doesn’t really give up on his stalking that he had begun upon angel seeing you for the first time, it’s kind of a given and eventually you figure it out and you don’t really seem to care — much to angel’s own small disagreement with it. (angel would think he was a monster for stalking you even though he couldn’t help it due to angelus’ obsession with you)

you’d have a lot of metaphorically-inherited enemies once you fall in love with angelus but a lot of them would be too afraid to come towards you or hurt you, out of the fear of your beloved man coming at them like a chaotic gremlin. i feel like they’d know your name and possibly call it out to you along with a vague threat or two thrown your way but then not really go to attack you physically out of the risk of potentially losing their own lives.

oh oh, last but not least, angelus would love to drink your blood whenever you would possibly let him, even if it’s a silly little papercut and that’s the only way you approve of it, he would get so hyper and quickly react similar to a dog with a bone. he wouldn’t stop until the cut itself would heal itself from the venom in his teeth, after all the venom runs through his body and it helps heal him, it would heal would consider … the whole reason why he has an obsession with you in the first place … being meant to be.

#angel the series x reader #angel x reader #angelus x reader #angel the series #angel #angelus #buffyverse #buffyverse x reader #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer

36 notes · View notes

traumatizing-unnamed-ocs · 6 days ago

Text

In a haze

Summary: Hero has a mental break down, Villain is into it Themes: Self-hate, fear of letting people down, not being good enough, all that jazz. Whump, hurt/comfort, so much fucking comfort bc you deserve it <3. This is basically a fix it fic for my own self-worth issues. Also love. If you want love, you get love in here. Possible triggers: Hero is in a major depressive episode, we also have a bit of violence

Hero was faintly aware that they were probably having some sort of crisis. There was a slim hope that it might be something physical, a brain tumor maybe or some slow acting poison. But the sadly more likely explanation was, that the events of the last year had truly messed them up beyond repair, and they would spend the rest of their life slowly falling apart until there would be nothing left.

But until then, they had work to do, and J.U.S.T.I.C.E didn’t care if they woke up every morning filled with dread. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. If they found out how little Hero cared about anything these days, they would probably fire them. And that thought scared Hero enough to keep them going, to keep them working, even if they felt like everything was meaningless.

They hardly even read their assignments anymore. It wasn’t like J.U.S.T.I.C.E trusted them enough to let them do anything actually important, it was always the same. All Hero really needed to know was where to go, and if they were fighting to kill, arrest, or distract. Because of this, they didn’t realize who they were supposed to be facing until they stood facing each other.

“Long time no see”, said Villain, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. With sudden shame Hero remembered the note Villain had given them months ago, their number scribbled onto it. They had never called. Hadn’t even figured out if they wanted to.

“If you surrender now, J.U.S.T.I.C.E promises a fair trial.” It was the script Hero had learned as a teenager. They had hated it, but now they were thankful for it. They couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Villain.

“A fair trial? Oh come on, J.U.S.T.I.C.E hasn’t given anybody a fair trial since it was created! Just because you call yourself J.U.S.T.I.C.E doesn’t mean you guys aren’t a pay-to-win operation.”

“So a fight then.” Hero sounded apathetic. They knew they did, they had been training to suppress their emotions since even before they joined J.U.S.T.I.C.E. But something about fighting Villain of all people made them feel nauseous.

“Really? You’re just going to be like that?” Villain dodged Heroes attack easily, more easily than they should. Hero hadn’t planned their move properly. “You could have at least sent me a text, you know? Let me down gently?”

“Sorry.” The word left a rotten taste on Heroes tongue, because they did truly feel sorry. Not exactly for not calling, but for just forgetting. But how could they even start to explain?

“It’s fine.” There was a distinct note of annoyance in Villains voice. Their following attack felt perfunctory. “I mean, we are on opposite sides. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me. Probably shouldn’t even have given you my number.”

That stung. It was so unexpected, that for a moment Hero forgot what they were doing. Suddenly they were in the air. Then on the floor. Everything hurt.

“Shit.” The voice was faint, muffled by the ringing in Heroes ears. There were hurried steps, and then Villain was bending over Hero, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy”, Hero pressed out.

“Are you sure, because you don’t look good.” Villain was now kneeling down next to them, reaching out. Hero concentrated on not flinching away, or tensing up. They just stayed still, until suddenly there was a soft, warm hand cradling the side of their head. “In my defense, I was expecting you to dodge”, Villain said softly, as they inspected Heroes injuries. “You always had great reflexes.”

“Really?” Before they could think, Hero had locked eyes with Villain. To their utter horror, there was no mockery in Villains eyes, just a hint of confusion.

“Jesus, Hero, hasn’t anybody ever given you a compliment?” Hero didn’t respond. “Great. Well, it seems like you aren’t injured to badly. Just maybe a concussion, some scrapes and bruises… I would tell you to take it easy for a few days, but knowing you, I assume you won’t. So just… I don’t even know. See you at our next fight, I guess.”

With that, Villain stood. Hero kept their eyes trained upwards. There was nothing but skye, the sound of disappearing steps, and a sudden panic filling every fiber of their being.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to call!” Hero called it towards the sky, not daring to look after Villain. They knew they wouldn’t be able to say it, then. They could hardly do it now. “I just forgot.”

“You get how that’s worse, right?” Despite everything, there was a relief in hearing Villains voice. They couldn’t be more than a few steps away from Hero. They sounded annoyed again, but they were still here.

“I know. And to be honest, I don’t know if I would have asked you out either way. Like you said, we are an opposite sides and all that. But I would have told you. I never wanted to just ignore you. It’s just… everything is so much right now. And I know that I should be used to it, and I am not trying to make excuses, because I know that I should do better. But I just can’t. Not right now. Most days I can hardly remember what day it is.” There was that familiar pain at the back of their throat, and Hero distinctly remembered Villain calling them pathetic. Oh how right they had been. Hero truly was pathetic.

“When was the last time you had a day off?” The question pulled Hero back into the moment.

“I was in a coma for a few days, some time in summer.”

“That doesn’t count. A day off, where you would have been physically and mentally able to work, but actually took that time to relax and take care of yourself.”

“I think… maybe some time before Mentor left?”

“Hero, that was almost a year ago.”

“Don’t you think I know that? And don’t start with whatever lecture you were about to give me, because believe me, I know! But you don’t know what it is like for somebody like me in a place like J.U.S.T.I.C.E. They didn’t even want me there before Mentor left, and now? They don’t say it, but I know what they all think of me! They think I’m a traitor, and they are just waiting for anything to prove it. One wrong step, and I am out on the street. And I know I shouldn’t care, I should be above it all, I shouldn’t need them so bad, but I do, okay? I can’t be alone again. So if an 80 hour work week is what it takes for me to stay with J.U.S.T.I.C.E, then that’s what I’ll do. And if it kills me, than I’ll at least have somebody to put my name on a gravestone.”

Only when Hero stopped talking, they realized how loud they had gotten. Screaming at the sky like a crazy person, tears in their eyes. Oh god, had they been crying?

Yes. They had been crying.

That was one way to make sure that Villain wouldn’t be mad about Hero not calling anymore. They would probably never want to talk to Hero again.

“Oh sweetheart.” To Heroes absolute horror, Villains voice had gone incredibly soft. It was the tone of voice Hero faintly remembered Mentor using, once in a while, when they had pushed Hero too hard.

“Don’t pity me.” Hero hated how broken they sounded.

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?”

Before answering, Villain gave a long sigh.

“Please don’t make me say it, it’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than my breakdown?” Hero was still talking into the sky, feeling strangely calm. For the first time in months, a bit of the haze seemed to have lifted from their mind, and the world was becoming clear.

“It probably depends on who's the judge, but… since I found your breakdown, as you call it, less embarrassing and more cute with a side of heartbreaking, and there is nobody else here… I guess you will be the one to decide if what I have to say is more embarrassing.”

Hero made a half-attempt of a laugh.

“Well then, confess your sins.”

“Oh I will.” There was something daring in Villains voice, but when they spoke again, they were full of sincerity. “Do you remember our last fight? When you knelt in front of me?”

“You said I looked cute”, Hero recalled.

“That was an understatement.” There was no hint of sarcasm in Villains voice. No, they spoke with the same reverence one might use to quote a religious text. There was something in Heroes stomach that twisted at that. “Can you imagine what it felt like, to have somebody you think so highly of, suddenly kneeling at your feet?” Villain sounded almost dreamy now, and Hero felt choked.

“You thought highly of me?”

“I think highly of you, Hero. I always have. I mean, honestly, it would only take one look at you in a fight. Not only do you simply look amazing, you are also just so good at it. Your technique is near perfect, but then, there is this underlying current of just raw instinct, the kind you can’t learn. The way you choose to never do more damage than necessary, even though you obviously could… it doesn’t just speak of your skill, it speaks of your character. I mean, you know I don’t like J.U.S.T.I.C.E., but if every Hero acted like you, I think maybe I would.”

It took a while until Hero managed to speak after that. What where they even supposed to say, to think, to feel after hearing something like that? Nobody had ever spoken this highly of them.

“You must have been very disappointed, when I knelt in front of you.”

“Oh sweetheart, the opposite. I felt honoured. A little scared, I have to admit. But mostly, I knew that I couldn’t let anybody hurt you, ever.”

“That might have been a bit ambitious.” Hero didn’t know why they were being sarcastic right now, they didn’t want to ruin whatever this moment was, but they didn’t know what else to do.

“Yea, I might have gotten caught up in the moment, I have to admit. But still, I don’t like the idea of you being hurt, except maybe in a fun way. And I might have become a bit, for lack of better word, possessive over the idea of you.”

“So, to sum up what you have just said, and correct me if I’m wrong.” Hero finally forced themself to sit up and look at Villain. They were just standing there, a few feet away, looking down on Hero with a half tender, half pained smile. “You are into bdsm.”

To Heroes utter delight, Villain laughed at that. It was light, earnest and entered Heroes bloodstream like a drug.

“Yes, that sums it about up. So, what’s the verdict? Who of us should be more embarrassed?”

“Well.” Despite Heroes aching bones, they forced themself half up, until they were kneeling again. From this position, they looked up at Villain deliberately. “Does this answer your question?”

“Oh.” And there was the same expression Villain had had last time Hero had knelt, and they were right, it wasn’t pity. Hero was still afraid to name it, but they almost wanted to call it adoration. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

As Villain took a step closer, Hero felt their heart pounding in their chest. Their breath seemed caught in their chest, and they started feeling light. Especially as Villain reached down to cradle their cheek.

“Give me your phone.” It was an order, spoken like a love confession.

“Why?” Hero still asked, because that had always been their fatal flaw. They always had to ask. But Villain didn’t get annoyed, Villain just smiled.

“So I can put my number in it, and then text myself, so that I have your number. And then I can text you, and we can figure out when in your busy schedule I can buy you that coffee.”

This story featured Hero as Hero and Vigilante as Villain. Will they return?

#heroes and villains #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #emotional whump #whump #hero #villain #power dynamics #self esteem issues #fluff #romance #they are in love

15 notes · View notes

princessdimondheart · 1 year ago

Text

Rave | Gaz x Reader

Pairing: Gaz x f! Reader

Summary: How Kyle met the love of his life while covered in holo glitter.

WC: 2,930

Warnings: 🔥- NSFW 18+ MDI, PnV, unsafe sex, creampie, oral f! receiving; 😭- slight angst

Edited: No; added Sarah’s outfit bc I forgot 🤦‍♀️

A/N 1: Sorry for the long wait as I healed my cut finger. It still hurts btw. I said Christmas didn’t I? It’s still Christmas here lol 😅😅 Reader is nicknamed Angel. My first smut 😳 If I messed up anywhere please tell me. I’m not 100% satisfied so I might add or change things later on.

A/N 2: I could not pick which outfit reader should wear. 😖 It’s between these two= Outfit 1 and Outfit 2: Top, Bottom ; the makeup is the same for both= Eyes, Lips ; Shoes for both but matte instead of velvet ; Nails are a bit more simple ; Kyle’s outfit will be linked in the fic. I’m not a fashion expert so I’m not sure if these fit well but I like them. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or note if you do. 😊

Masterlist

Kyle was happy when Price decided to send him on a special training mission across the pond to the states, at least he was for a while. But then FOMO hit him when he realized that he would be missing out on a few missions. The training would last for a few months. Two months too long in his opinion, but here he was those months later and he had finally completed his training. Kyle was certain that his Captain would be proud to learn that he had made it to the top of the class.

Now, he only had a few days left before he had to ship back out to the UK. He’d planned to chill in the barracks and maybe go to a bar for a couple of drinks. However, that was not the case when he received a random text from his cousin.

Sarah had moved out to California from their hometown after she got accepted into UCLA. She was very excited when she heard about her acceptance. Kyle believed it was because she could now party it up without the scary eyes of their very religious grandmother baring down their necks. At least that’s how he felt when he first left home to join the military.

Sarah had invited him to go out to a festival or perhaps it was a rave? He wasn’t sure because he had never been to one before so this was sure to be a new experience. He’d never been one to party, even less given that he’s living a military and not a typical college life style. However, he can say that he can handle his own with a couple of pints.

He glanced back to her text to make sure that he had input the address correctly. He was lucky that her new home wasn’t too far from the base he was staying at so he could take the bus that ran through the base. Sarah had decided that the gloomy skies of England were no match to the sunny skies of Los Angeles, so after graduating she found a job in engineering and found a place to call her own. He was honestly happy for her and was genuinely surprised that she had messaged him since they had not talked in several years. He had a suspicion that their grandmother called her about him being there.

The bus stop was only a few blocks away from Sarah’s house so he had to walk the rest of the way. It was early, almost 8 am on a Saturday, so Kyle was certain that his cousin was likely still sleeping in. He made sure that his walk took longer by taking in his environment. It must have been because of his military mindset that had him checking the area for security risks. He knows that L.A. has a bad rep but his cousin living in a decent neighborhood didn’t mean that there were no risks. Kyle didn’t see that many people out that early. Only a few dogs walkers and a mother pushing a stroller with a baby that seemed not too happy to have been woken from their sleep based on theirs incessant crying. Kyle winced when they walked by.

Kyle made it to his cousin’s door in 15 minutes. She opened the door after two knocks with a few minutes in between.

“Kyle! You’re here!” She engulfed him in a tight hug, her arms squeezing against his torso with enough strength to pop his back. “Ahhh!! It’s been forever!”

“Gah!” He wheezed as his arms were crushed to his sides. “You have gotten a lot stronger, Sarah. Please let me go.”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry. I get a bit excited about this stuff. You know me!” Sarah let him go and cover her mouth with her hand to try to hide her laughter. Then, she flexes an arm. “I just did arm day so I’m pretty pumped.”

Kyle laughs, “Your noodle arms are nothing compared to mine.” He teased her while flexing his larger arm muscles. It was like they were back to being kids and laughing and making fun of each other.

“Har. Har. Kyle!” She rolled her eyes and gestured into her home. “Get your ass inside, Popeye.”

“Who?” His brow rose. She stared at him blankly.

“Just get in, you uncultured swine!” Sarah started pushing his back to get him in. He resisted of course, but after a few seconds he let her have her way and stepped through the threshold.

They settled on the couch and began to catch up. He learned about her job and that although it wasn’t her dream job, she was still happy about working there. Kyle didn’t tell her that much about his work being that almost all of it was classified but he shared that he too enjoyed working with his team. Overall, they were happy that the other was happy.

“Now, what’s this about a rave? Festival?” Kyle felt like he didn’t know what he was saying. “You wanted to go out later tonight?”

“Yeah! It’s a rave with festival vibes.” Sarah explained and he nodded along. “We have to dress up a bit so we can look cool I guess. That’s why I wanted you to come a bit early, though not this early!”

“Sorry.” She chuckled at him.

“Don’t worry about it. I should have known that with you military types that I should have specified the exact time. That’s on me. But! Now we have more time to go over what you’re going to wear!”

If Sarah could be more excited she’d be bouncing off the walls and out the door. Her face bright like the huge grin pulling at her lips.

“Oh… I was just gonna go like this.” He gestured at himself but apparently that did not go over so well with Sarah. She had a grossed out face.

“A button up with kakis? What are you Jake from State Farm?” Another cultural reference that he lacked an understanding of. Sarah’s accent had become more Americanized but her British voice would shine through on the occasion. “No, no, no! I will not be seen with you dressed like that, love!”

She stood up. “I think I know what to do.”

Kyle almost panicked. “Please, no cheeks handing out and nothing too girly.” His brows furrowed together. “Damn… what would my team say if they saw me like this??”

“They’d say nothing because they would see that you had girls hanging off of you. You know some girls like men who are in touch with their feminine side?”

“I don’t have a feminine side.” He pouted.

“Well, now you do!” Kyle cursed himself at being more open about what she could dress him in. He just hoped no pictures made it back to the Task Force.

~~~~~

Kyle and Sarah walked amongst the crowd heading into the music festival grounds. There were so many people there, and from what he could see, not so many security guards or police. His training had him looking around and eyeing any suspicious looking people. Although that was kinda hard when every other person had their ass and titties hanging out, with even more glitter on their bodies than he had.

They made it through security which was just a metal detector and the guards checking their bags. Then their passes were scanned and off into the throng of people they went.

“My friends texted that they were near the food stalls.” Sarah glanced up from her phone. “I told them we’d meet up with them. Come on, let’s go!”

She took off and Kyle followed after her. He felt like a protective older brother as he glared at anyone who gave her weird looks of lust. Sarah was pretty and everywhere she went she always garnered looks of appreciation from strangers. She was currently wearing a yellow outfit that complimented her skin tone rather well. Her hair was long and styled back in curls. Large hoops adorned her ears. She was also wearing a large yellow coat which he thought she was crazy for because of the heat, but she assured him that it would get colder as the night went on. He was certain that her new white shoes wouldn’t stay that way afterwards.

~~~

His own outfit wasn’t too bad if he was honest, although the sheer crop top was new for him. He liked the baggy pants that Sarah picked out and he paired it with his black combat boots. Sarah had given him two thumbs up and started messing around with her makeup bag. He was checking his outfit out in front of the mirror when he saw a hand with a makeup brush making its way to his face.

“Woah! What’ya doin’!?” He pushed her hand away. Sarah huffed.

“Just adding to the vibes. Come on it’s just some glitter, you’ll look so hot that girls will be falling all over you.” She grinned.

“You say that but I’m not so sure…” He squinted at her.

“Ugh! Just let go!” She shook her arm around.

“Okay, Elsa.”

“Bitch-!”

~~~~~

Sarah found her friends in the crowd by the food stalls. She squealed and yanked on his arm in their direction. Introductions were made and the group went together where the concerts were happening. The crowd wasn’t as pushed together as Kyle thought but he never took his eyes off the group for too long, not wanting to lose sight of his cousin. Call him overprotective if you want.

They found a spot near the middle of the crowd. The girls danced around him and he bobbed his head to the music despite it not being to his taste. Maybe he tapped his foot but he won’t admit it. Although, he’ll admit that the live band was rather good.

From the corner of his eye he saw arms shoot up and wave around. He followed the movement down and saw the form of a girl dancing and singing along to the song. Her wrists had multiple beaded bracelets, fingernails perfectly manicured. Her lips were in a smile, sparkling with her lipgloss, and her eyes reflected the bright colors of the strobe lights. Her makeup was pretty but he had no real knowledge about that. The more he looked the wider his eyes dilated.

The girl wore a black three-piece bra, high-waisted bikini bottoms and skirt-wrap combo with flowers and tuffs of faux feathers. Her arms had long sleeves and she wore a matching choker necklace. Chains dangled from her form and bounced as she jumped and danced. His eyes lowers down her legs and to her feet in very tall heels that he was amazed she was jumping around in. He thought she’d break an ankle.

When his eyes went back to her face, she was already looking at him. Brow raised in question and lips slightly pouted. Damn those lips. He flinched back a bit when their eyes connected. His cheeks burned at realizing she caught him eyeing her up.

“Hi!” She said rather shyly, or really, she yelled over the music.

It took him a moment to respond. “Hello, Miss?”

She yelled her name but said that everyone called her Angel, and he gave his own in return. The music changed to a faster beat and the people around him were dancing closer to each other.

“Wanna dance?” Her hand reached for his, fingertips sliding softly up on his forearm. He could feel the slight scratch of her nails. It sent shivers up his back.

He felt like a teenager with the slight nod to her question he gave. His damn voice was caught in his throat. He was better than this. Smoother at flirting with pretty ladies but right now all of his experience was failing him.

She giggled at him, not that he could hear it but felt it as she drew herself closer to his chest. Her breasts pressed to his shear shirt. Her hips swayed with the music and his hands automatically rested themselves there. Angel raised her hands, gliding them on his chest. Her fingers teased the sides of his throat before curling behind his neck.

As her nails scratched the short hairs there, he brought her hips closer to his. She was definitely aware that she was affecting him physically. He ground his hardness against her. They both moaned at the feeling. His eyes were droopy with lust, they glanced at her pouty lips. Someone from behind bumped him closer and he let his lips lock with hers.

Kyle’s hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer. She moaned and his tongue slipped past and tangled with hers. He tasted her lipgloss and the sweetness of the alcohol she drunk earlier that night. Both reveled in each other’s touch.

The moment was cut short by whoops and whistles to their left. When they separated, Kyle looked over and saw his cousin and her friends cheering him on. Sarah must have noticed that he wasn’t as close to them as before. His cousin gave him a thumbs up and a fist pump. The girl in his arms hid herself in his chest, her cheeks warming. As if she wasn’t just grinding up on him as they were making out.

“Ah… sorry, that’s my cousin and her friends.” He chuckled, abashed.

“It’s okay.” Angel smiled at him, taking in his pretty eyes.

~~~~~

They spent the next few hours dancing, kissing, and occasionally touching more than what would be socially acceptable. During one of the set changes, Kyle introduced her to his cousin and her friends. They hit it off rather quickly. At the end of their night, Sarah decided to stay overnight with her friends and Kyle chose to go home with Angel after she invited him. Her apartment wasn’t too far from where they were at anyways.

“I’m sorry… I don’t usually do this. Bringing home a stranger.” She glanced down. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry. I don’t do that either.” His lips tugged into a small grin.

She looked up at him and smiled softly. Her eyes drifted to his lips. Kyle noticed and began to inch forward until their lips met. It was soft. Her lips and the motions were slow and sweet. Very different to the one in the heat of the festival. Her hands rubbed up his mesh shirt, nails scratching softly through the thin fabric before clasping tightly behind his neck. His own hands rubbed on her waist in slow circular motions.

Their kisses and touches ached and Kyle began to quickly lead her back into the room. Not that he knew where he was going. His first mistake as the beautiful woman he was currently in a delicious lip lock fell from his arms.

She yelped when her body hit the back of her couch. The suddenness of it causing her to tip backwards. She landed on the plush cushions with a soft ‘oof.’ Kyle looked down at her in shock, mouth open but no words came out. Part of her legs and feet dangled over the top. She looked up at him, eyes glancing back and forth between his own, dumbfounded before her the corners of her lips turned up and a giggle started. Then it turned into full blown laughter. Kyle grinned at her cute reaction and joined with a chuckle.

She lifted her hands up to him and as he began to pull her up, she yanked him down over the couch with her. Giggling all the while. His arms stretched out to catch himself on the cushions. He could barely think before her lips were on him once again. This time there was more heat to it. More passion.

Her hands were cupping his face. Fingers rubbing softly against his freshly shaven face. He shifted their bodies into a more comfortable position and put his weight onto one arm before bringing the other hand up. He let it glance lightly against her body until it rested softly against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His thumb rubbing her neck with an equal softness.

He felt more than he heard the soft groan that left her lips, muffled by his own. Her legs shifted and he felt her knees up against his hips. Kyle gave into the temptation and lowered his lower body until he was flush against her. This time he heard her moan. He shivered in delight.

Her tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he let her in. Their tongues danced against one another. Damn he loved the taste of her.

Angel pushed him back so that she could reach behind her to unclip her top. His mouth immediately latched on her nipple. Her back arched, a pleasured sigh escaping her lips. She felt herself getting wet, her slick soaking her black bottoms and she bucked her hips into Kyle’s. His moan vibrated through her chest.

Kyle kissed her chest some more before sliding back and removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Her hands helped him pull them down, leaving him in his boxers.

“Where’s your bed?” He held her hands and helped her up off the couch. Angel led him to her room, she removed the rest of her clothes and heels and laid her bare self on the soft bed. Kyle stood by the doorway and just stared at her beauty. Her legs were slightly open and he could see the glimmer of her slick weeping from her pussy.

Angel’s face burned at his intense gaze. “Kyle?”

That broke him out of his lustful haze, swiftly removing his boxers. He hung heavily, his arousal twitching against his navel. The tip flushed and his veins throbbing. Angel licked her lips as he grew closer.

Her hand reached for his cock but was quickly intercepted by Kyle’s larger hand. “Let me…”

Angel let herself fall back as Kyle took his place between her legs. Instantly sucking and licking at her soaked pussy. His hands held firmly on her thighs, not letting her rub against his head. Kyle’s tongue flicked on her clit and she moaned rather loudly that she was sure she’d get a complaint about it later.

“Oh, fuck! Kyle!” Her nails scratched at his short hair.

The wet, juicy sounds of her slick and Kyle’s sucking turned her own, making her even more wet. He licked stripes up and down her pussy, then slipped a finger in rather easily. She was panting now, little moans interdicted with louder ones.

He added a second and then a third, really stretching her out for him. The bed sheets had her juices pooled beneath her. His fingers pumped faster and his mouth sucked harder on her clit. She moaned loudly as her walls clamped down on his fingers as she orgasmed around them. The sounds coming from her nearly made Kyle cum but he held the base of his cock with his free hand to stop his load from blowing too early.

His fingers slipped from her pussy and he watched as her slick lips clenched around nothing.

“Kyle, please…” Her eyes were pleading, flicking between his eyes and his straining dick.

“Angel…” He moaned as he tapped his tip against her clit. She wiggled her lower half in an attempt to get him inside her. She whined when he pulled away but groaned as Kyle pushed his tip just barely inside.

He huffed and then pushed all the way in, earning himself beautiful, pleasure-filled noises. He was halfway in when she half sat up and pulled him closer, locking their mouths in a heated kiss. His hips jerked forward the final few inches until their hips were touching. His arms and thighs shook from the pleasure he was feeling. Her plush pussy was sucking him in, clenching against his thick cock. Desperately trying to milk him for what he’s got. And he had a lot to give.

The first few thrusts were overstimulating, so Kyle went torturously slow. It didn’t last too long before he was pounding into her sweet pussy faster. Their bodies coming together created wet lewd sounds. His cum filled balls slapped against her ass with each hard connection. Kyle could feel her wetness dripping down his balls. The viscous fluid becoming creamier with each thrust.

“There ya go, love.” Kyle panted. “Look at those tits bouncing every, every time I fuck my cock into ya.”

He looked down at her boobs bouncing with his thrusts. A hand reached out to pinch at her nipple. Her hips bucked in sync with his.

“Ah! Ah! Kyle!” He pinched and twisted her nipple harder. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He thrusted his cock into her faster than before. His balls beginning to tighten while her walls clenched harder onto him.

“Kyle~!” Her voice going a higher pitch. The bed creaked with their thrusts.

“Shit! Ah! That’s it, love!” Kyle’s eyes began to roll back as his creamy cum left his body and streamed into hers. “Yes, ah! Fuck! Fuck!”

The feeling of Kyle’s hot cum squirting into her made Angel cum harder than she’s ever cummed before. Her legs shook violently and her back arched off the bed. Kyle’s pace slowed but her didn’t slip out as he came to a stop. Both panted hard and Kyle wrapped his arms around her, flipping them over still connected.

A surprised squeak slipped her lips and he chuckled. Then she groaned softly at the new position. He didn’t move, however, instead tightening his hold on her.

“Cuddler?” She teased, palms splayed over his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating as he took deep breaths.

“Can’t blame me for hugging an Angel.” The laugh that shook her body was making Kyle giddy. The movement made him groan as her pussy clenched on his softening cock.

“S-sorry.” She bit her lip. She took the moment to push against him and he let her go. Kicking a leg over, his cock slipped out along with a gush of his cum. “Ah!”

Kyle hissed as his cock slapped against him covered in both their fluids. He felt his dick hardening watching his cum drip from her twitching pussy lips.

Angel then laid next to him, her head resting against his chest. Her hand reached over his stomach to his hand. She held it as she slipped one of her bracelets she made for the festival over onto his wrist.

“To remember me…” She said it so softly, he almost missed it if he wasn’t staring at her in awe. His cheeks burned as feelings he’s rarely ever felt before churned in his chest. Her dilated eyes looking back just as fervently.

On its own, Kyle’s hand reached for her chin pulling her into a deep kiss. She moved over him again, one of his hands on her ass cheek to help not that she needed it. He gave it a tight squeeze making her moan into his mouth.

They continued their moment together past sunrise. Kyle made sure to bring her pleasure as many times as Angel could take. He hoped he’d spend more time with her in the future but knew it was unlikely since he lived on another continent. Silently, she hoped the same thing.

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

57 notes · View notes