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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 day ago
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Intoxication [S. R]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
wc: 9.2k
Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.
warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!
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It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.
However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.
The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.
“Hi”
“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.
I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.
“I was just about to leave, actually.”
“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.
“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”
“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.
I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.
Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.
She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact
 and people.
“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.
“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”
“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”
“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.
“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like
 fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”
I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?
“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”
I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:
“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”
I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.
“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”
I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.
“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”
She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.
I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.
There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
“Tastes like
 strawberry.”
“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.
Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.
Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.
On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.
Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.
“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so
 chaotic,”
She looked around with a slight smile.
“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”
“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”
“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”
She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.
“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”
She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.
I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.
“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.
I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.
“What is it?”
“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”
But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.
“You have to try it,” she moaned.
I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.
“Hey!”
“You’ll thank me later.”
It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.
After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.
Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.
I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.
She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.
We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.
She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.
The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.
My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.
By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.
“Sweetheart.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”
“Of course.”
My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.
I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.
“You move well, Reid.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”
Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.
He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.
“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.
“Want a drink?”
“Honestly, no.”
By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.
Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.
“Sorry?”
“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”
“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”
“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”
“Sexy?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”
Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.
“Uhm
 you
 you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”
My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to
 attract?”
Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.
“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”
She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.
“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”
My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.
“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.
“That makes sense.”
Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.
She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.
She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.
“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.
She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.
“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.
Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.
“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.
“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.
She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.
“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but
 you can’t.”
My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.
She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.
“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also
 well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”
Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.
“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”
I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry
 What the hell was happening to me?
It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.
The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.
I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.
“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”
“No! I mean, yes
 it’s just
”
I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.
“Did you throw up?”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”
“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”
“I can take a cab.”
“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”
She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.
When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.
It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.
It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.
The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?
“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”
“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.
She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.
The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.
She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.
“Thank you so much for bringing me home
 and for everything.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Quite a lot, actually.”
“We should do this more often.”
“Go to university parties?”
“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”
Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.
“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”
A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.
“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.
I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.
Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.
She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.
In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.
The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.
I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.
“You okay?”
“Yes, just
 suddenly felt a bit feverish”
“Let me check”
My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.
My choice of words wasn't the best either.
“You’re hot,”
“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”
A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.
“Why are you saying that?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“It’s just
 I don’t understand it.”
A soft laugh echoed in my ears.
“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”
I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.
“No
 I think
 I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”
“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”
Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.
“Hey, Spencer.”
“Yes?”
“Could I kiss you?”
A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.
Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.
My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.
Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.
“I’m sorry
” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No
 I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”
For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.
“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.
Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.
My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.
She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.
“Hey, wait
”
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you feel okay with this?”
“A lot. Do you want to stop?”
“No. It’s just that
 you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.
Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.
“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”
“No”
“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer
”
I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:
“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”
Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.
I wanted her too. I wanted her now.
“I never imagined
”
My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.
Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.
When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.
“Did that clear your doubts?”
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.
“Then stop overthinking”
The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?
But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.
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The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.
I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.
It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.
Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.
"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"
I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.
"Tell me”
"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."
"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"
Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.
Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.
Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.
Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.
Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.
Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.
I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.
My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.
Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?
I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.
“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"
“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”
“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”
Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.
I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.
I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.
“Take me to bed, please.”
He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.
Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?
Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.
Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.
“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”
My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.
I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.
"Sorry, I..."
“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.
"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”
A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.
"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."
"Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."
"No, it's not that."
I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.
"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."
"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."
“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”
Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.
"Where are you going?"
"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.
"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.
"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”
"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."
Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.
I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.
As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.
I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.
Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.
I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.
Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.
Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.
"Busy?"
I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.
“I guess you found what we need, right?”
“Uh-huh”
“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”
“Quite a few”
“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”
“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”
A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.
“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”
He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.
At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.
“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.
I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.
We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.
I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.
“Honey
” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.
I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.
Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.
My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.
“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.
I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.
My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.
“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.
“Your wish is my command”
He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.
I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.
At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.
He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.
I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.
He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.
“Are you satisfied?”
“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”
“I'm speechless.”
I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.
We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.
“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh
 healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”
I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.
“Do you mind lending it to me?”
“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.
When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.
“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”
“Yes, of course I want”
He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.
One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.
“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”
"Not much"
“Do you want me to get you some socks?”
“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”
“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like
 now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”
“So you’re like a human blanket”
“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”
I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.
“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”
“Your guess is quite accurate.”
“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”
From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.
“I like you a lot”
“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.
It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.
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Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)
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snakesafraidtodie · 3 days ago
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Mediocre Reveal AU
So usually we see the Fentons in fic after finding out their son is Phantom, either being totally loving and supportive or horrendously hateful and destructive. But what if they were just... not great?
Like they try, right? But they still say bigoted and ignorant stuff. There's still micro-agressions. One reveal isn't gonna change anybody's entire world view. Just because they're not attacking Danny doesn't mean they're comfortable with it, accommodating or accepting of other ghosts.
"Those damn ghost scum!"
"I'm a ghost, remember?"
"Sure Dann-o, but you're different! You're not like them! You still hold onto your humanity. It's a heavy burden to bear, holding off the monster inside you, but you're doing so well and your mother and I are so proud of you!"
They could accept that he is a halfa but still dislike and discourage him from using his ghost side. Like coming out as bi to someone who thinks you should only act on your attraction to the opposite sex so that they can pretend you're straight.
It can be one of those things where you just... know your relatives have problematic views so in order to maintain the peace you just don't talk about it. I think it's pretty normal to have certain topics you avoid with certain people. Or try. There's always those family gatherings where you know you'll just have to grit your teeth as your uncle spews BS again.
So sure, if Danny understandably doesn't want to talk about ghosts with his parents once he's an adult, they can have a two minute phone call once a month were he listens to the tiny bit of small town gossip unrelated that Maddy and Jack have deigned to pay attention to and share a bit about his mundane life in return.
It's not great, but they're still his parents and it could be worse. They could still be actively trying to End him.
I'm picturing this could be perfectly utilized in a Dead on Main fic where Danny's parents are pestering him to meet his boyfriend and he reluctantly agrees. So they all meet up for lunch and Jason notices how the Fenton's keep casually dropping these disparaging comments about ghosts and gets pissed on Danny's behalf. Jason tries to defend him, which leads to an argument, which leads to Jason declaring himself undead, which leads to the Fentons instantly becoming disapproving of their relationship.
"Danny, how could you pick such a person for a partner! It could worsen your condition!"
"Deadness isn't contagious Mom."
"Yeah lady-"
"Don't you start again, Jason! I told you not to start a fight with my parents!"
"Me? They're the ones spouting garbage! I'm just trying to educate the so called experts-"
"I'll have you know young man-!"
And the whole meeting falls apart. Jason is mad Danny won't let him defend him, Danny is mad Jason made a scene. The Fentons are mad that their son's boyfriend is a rude undead who is corrupting their boy. It's a mess. Y'know. Typical meeting the in-laws drama.
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lvrboy-inc · 3 days ago
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“One Of The Boys” - The Weeknd
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꒰: PrĂ©cis | College life isn’t easy. So what happens when one run-in at a party introduces you to someone who changes your life..forever?
꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Money Laundering Incubus!Suguru x Virgin Stripper m!reader, degradation, coercion, manipulation, [ CW : mentions of hard substances, mentions of prostitution ] exhibitionism, hold the m0an, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, mild bondage, degradation. Tread very carefully~!!
꒰: Word Count ; 13.6k
Sweetest Sin Masterlist
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“It’s fucking illegal. As hell.”
————
Wasted potential.
No one likes it.
So what exactly is one to do when they are a walking definition of such?
Well..it all started back in college.
Already struggling with keeping your education afloat–and not to even get into the aspects of relationships–you were in a muck. A really bad one. Some may have called it, ‘Sophmore Slump’. But it would’ve been so much better if you could’ve kept the term as something you knew of and not all about. 
Money was tight, the people were wildly unreliable and overall, your life was looking greyscale. 
That’s how it was, anyway.
Being scouted by one of the more wealthy upperclassmen you knew at a party you were originally planning on blacking out at might’ve been one of the best things to happen to you..and consequently the worst.
“Y’know, if your financial situation is as shitty as you claim, I’ve got a friend who could offer a bit more..stability,” You’d recalled the white-haired scamp uttering as you both babysat drinks that neither of you were truly enjoying. His eyes were scanning all over the party whilst yours were watching the ripples that your red Solo created due to the proximity of the loudspeaker. “His business is kinda small now but I promise he’s goin’ places with it. Stick beside him, get to know him, become indispensable and I swear, you’ll never eat out of another ramen cup again.”
It was a spotless business pitch if you’d ever heard one. So of course, you found yourself sitting across from the stranger’s so-called ‘friend’ at a cafĂ© that was far too open for the subject he’d brought up.
He was probably the same height as the man who’d approached you at the party in the first place, except his build was a bit more cut and burly. 
You awkwardly drummed your fingers against the sides of the coffee cup he’d offered to pay for—and to which you only agreed after heavy persuasion and a, ‘No, me’ back and forth—glancing around the scene. It wasn’t any question that he was here to talk business with you. I mean, such a professional setting and the way he looked?
Straight, jet-black hair that you saw running just below his shoulder blades with just a hint of crimping at the ends–all so neatly tied together in a half-up, half-down bun. For the casual setting, he’d worn a high black turtleneck and beige, loose-fitting, ironed pants. The accessories he adorned just screamed upper echelon but what topped it all off were those thinly framed glasses that sat so prettily on his narrow nose bridge.
To be so frank, he didn’t even look real. More like someone you’d see on a Pinterest board for visions or something with a more..suggestive connotation. Though, snapping you out of your mild daydreaming, you heard him clear his throat justly. In your own absentmindedness, you failed to realize that his eyes had barely fell on you either. Not really nervousness but..some straying variation of it. Maybe..hesitance?
“So,” he’d begun, finally turning to meet your gaze with those deep violets. “I’m sure Satoru filled you in, yes? On the..outlines of the job?” 
Outlines? Were you supposed to have been informed of such? “Ah..n-no, I don’t believe so..? He just said you’d had a business that’s drumming up and that I should become something like an..early investor? I don’t know, something along those lines.”
“Wait—you don’t even know what the job is?” 
You bit your lip in response, guiding your eyes back to the cup in your hand before shaking your head. A low, throaty groan was heard from across the table as he pushed his index and thumb under the frame of his glasses, pinching the taut skin between his eyes. “Right. And you agreed to show up without any further information? What if I’d been asking you to be like..some sort of hitman or something?”
“Well..are you?” A scoff and he readjusted, leaning back in his chair with a look that was all-too fed up.
Eyes now boring into yours, he rolled his tongue along the bottom set of his teeth before speaking—probably an effort to try not and hurt your feelings with his next words—leaning forward on his elbows. “No. If I wanted someone dead, I’d do it myself. I certainly wouldn’t ask a complete and utter stranger to do such a thing on our first  meeting, either.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you took a long sip of your drink, readily squaring your posture. “Given the fact that I don’t even know your name, I’d say that I’m down for just about anything.”
“Geto. Suguru Geto. But please, call me Geto until we’ve gone past our formalities,” Reaching down beside him, he had unlatched the straps binding his satchel closed, slowly rummaging through the leather and then pulling out a small folder. It was laminated at the front and along with it, he brought out a pen. “Here, it’s a contract. Read through that and I’ll explain everything else that isn’t stated or that you have trouble..comprehending to the fullest extent.”
He spoke so properly that it felt a bit unnerving. Either way, he slid it across the table and at the very front, in bold lettering were the words, “Purple Haze: Beginnings”. You opened up the first page and were hit with a load of numbers and statistics muddled throughout the large sum of words, paragraphs..essay’s worth of other writing. To say that you bit back a groan would be an understatement.
But, as your eyes scanned over the lengthy pages, he began to speak. “You see..I’m already a part of an organization. A much larger one that I’m trying to branch off onto my own. Think of it as..expansion,” his expression was becoming more laid back as he went on—you could just tell he knew what he was talking about. As if he knew he would already be the best. “It’s going to be anything but fruitless. Sure, the startup is going to be slow, but it’ll all be worth it. My job is going to be hiring more..‘recruits’. You know, sweet talking them down, promising the world—typical business pitches. In turn, they will provide cover for what’s going on behind the scenes.”
“From what I’m reading here it looks like you’re just trying to start a..strip club? I’m sorry but–”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Spoken sharply and with the slightest hint of agitation, he sighed heavily and ran a hand through the bit of hair that was left to frame his face. “As I was saying—that’s where you come in.”
“You want me to become a stripper? For you?”
Tilting his head from side to side a bit, he came back to a level. “In the most simple of terms
yes. But, unlike the rest that I’ll be hiring, you’ll be given an inside look into what exactly the..‘bigger picture’ is.”
“And that is?”
“Money.” A small smile spread across his face as he brought his hands to fold in front of him, propping his jaw up on the backs of them. “Trust me. I know this is all a lot to take in, but I’m offering you a chance to be bigger. To be better than the average, mundane life of walking among the lower class, of having to go to classes every single day just to learn things I’m positive you already know. Not to sound clichĂ©, but you’re different. I’ve done my research.”
The way his grin wasn’t faltering was already putting you off, especially as you’d gotten to the section that he then explained would be cut out for the rest. “Right there. Notice the jump? These are simply predictions for what we’ll bring in—not an exact estimate. The true sums are bound to be much more than your college-attending brain could ever dream of.”
“Hey,” You’d slightly chastise, giving your brows just an inch of a furrow before returning your focus. “Where..where would all the extra cash even come from, though? I mean
it can’t just be solely from what we’ll be doing.”
A low rumbling in his chest, resembling that of a laugh but ultimately dying out as a wry breath had followed behind your question. “There, that right there is the real kicker. Tell me, have you ever heard of..money laundering?” Your body went a bit rigid at the inquiry and your fingers stilled their idle tracing as you read along. “You’re a business major—of course you have. But, you’ve only heard of where it fails. Where the police get involved, where everything unravels at the seams and great empires tumble and fall to their knees once they get wayyy too in over their heads.”
“Well, duh! I mean, it’s–” You looked around, suddenly becoming acutely aware of your volume. Peering in closer, you hunched over the table a bit, continuing in a harsh whisper. “It’s fucking illegal. As hell. You’re telling me that you want me to not only strip, but be a cover and an accomplice for..for this? Fuck that. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think..”
“Think what? Think about the budget you’re on? Think about the way you’ve been purposely slacking in your academics for the sake of lowering standards, of expectations that others hold for you because you can’t take the pressure of being the absolute fucking best in your field? Or perhaps how I know that you’re better than all of this shit,” The commonality and relatively airy tone he’d held before was almost gone now as he let himself fall forward to eye you down. It was like the atmosphere was a living thing, sparking and sending the embers out into every breath you took. “Dumbing yourself down for people who are intimidated by the sheer potential you have, that which has been built upon all of your past accomplishments, the future you can have if you just grow a pair and stop caring so damn much about who you leave in the dark as you shine.”
By this point, you’d pulled back, sitting down in your seat and taking a longgg sip that was all-too loud and obnoxious to not be passive aggressive. “You have the knowledge, you have the management skills, you have the body—so what’s really stopping you from capitalizing on all of that?”
Silence.
“Right. You are the only thing holding yourself back. That, or, to put it crassly—you’re just too much of a pussy.” A sharp glare, almost like a dagger thrown, was shot his way and he gave a light snort. It was too easy to get under your skin, especially like this. “Look. All I’m saying is..you’re on the edge of something great. Something revolutionary. Sure, it’s not as..conventional, as you thought your ‘big break’ would be but
when one door closes, a sunroof opens. Reach for those stars, let me help you touch those stars. And all I’m asking in return is for you to
show a bit of skin, dirty up a few numbers, smile through it all. Nothing you haven’t done before, I’m sure.”
Your leg had started bouncing under the table as you now stared at the empty signature line. His had already been written in that pretty cursive scrawl, topped off with an extra loop as to where the last ‘O’ of his name was. It was like both the man in front of you now, as well as just the mere sight of his name was enough for you to pick up the pen. Clicking the tip out of place, your hand stopped just before the paper.
“And..you’re positive the police won’t find out? I-I mean..it’s just so..chance. More risk than reward.” an uncertain concern that left your mouth as you slowly lifted your head.
“For someone who’s so good with math, your ratios seem pretty..off,” That laidback tone had returned once more and this time, it was accompanied by his hand coming over yours, laying your shaking down against the table. A gesture that would be more comforting if it hadn’t come from who it did. “By all means, don’t sign it. Throw this away, walk away from this conversation, this table—forget you ever met me. But I know one thing without a shadow of a doubt; You’ll regret it.”
Swallowing dryly, you could feel the weight of his words as if they were some physical force—not to be reckoned with. And so, that’s how you wound up scratching your signature into the paper, right next to his. You felt an odd..surge as the pen lifted off, like you’d somehow..sealed your fate. 
Suguru looked at you with a smile that was nearly devilish in its satisfaction, calmly pulling the packet closed and stuffing it back in his bag as he shut it back up with the rhythmic latching of the straps once again. He’d stood up, slinging his satchel over his satchel and dipping his hands into his pockets, not without pushing his glasses further onto his face. 
“So..that’s it? We’re done here..?” You’d asked, grabbing your drink and going along as you pushed your chair in. Reaching for your wallet, Suguru was two steps ahead—placing a hefty tip for your waitress on the table.
After you’d rolled your eyes at the gesture, he took the lead in the path to the door. “For now, yes. I’ll keep in contact with you, along the lines of details, times, meetings and any other updates regarding progress,” Pushing open the glass with a small chime of the bell overhead, he held it open and let you walk through. Once situated outside, he outstretched his hand toward you. “Welcome on board. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a..lasting partnership.” 
The word he’d emphasized made it all the more apparent that you’d very well just signed your..well, almost everything over to this man in the span of an hour, two tops. But even so, among all of the anxiety, among all of the nerves and just fear of what was to come, you willed yourself to shake his hand firmly and nod your head long. “Here’s to new beginnings.”
“To us.” he’d reiterated, slipping his hand away and turning around to walk off in the opposite direction of you.
That day..it marked the most significant choice of your life. It changed..everything.
        ⋆âș₊⋆ â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”âŠ±àŒ’ïžŽ ‱ àŒ’ïžŽâŠ°â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” ⋆âș₊⋆
A whistle from across the room and you knew you were being called over. 
Throbbing strobe lights overhead, a classic RnB playing over blaring stereos overhead and the scene was absolutely electrifying. The smell of flowing drinks, the sounds of patrons hooping and hollering over the entertainment on stage—two of the stars of the night, since the posterboy (you) was on waiter duty—lines of white spread across tables and a dancefloor that was too crowded to even look past two feet in front of you. It was a jungle.
But for the past—wow, had it already been 4 years? Nevertheless, it was your jungle. Your domain, if you will. 
It was hard to imagine sometimes that all of this, the walls that stretched up past high heavens even to a second floor that was located above, with a perfect view of all the debauchery below and reserved for the more..exclusive members of the establishment. In reality—it was where business happened. Whether that be gambling among the pool tables, roulette tables, or even in the back where most of the real lounging and discussions took place with the fat and happy scumbags—it was strictly for business. 
Well..that and private shows. 
And with that particular call, you knew that you were being called for just that. By who? Oh, none other than the mastermind who’d made all of this possible in the first place. 
On your way up the lavish steps, you passed by the bar where Satoru had been cleaning off glasses. He wound up finding some way into the fray much later. After getting fired from his previous bartending job that ended under very..sudden circumstances. Regardless, he was still a thorn in your side, especially when you got chewed out by the ‘big man upstairs’. Leaning up against the bar, propped on your elbows, Satoru slid you two..‘specialty’ drinks that were usually a sign of a difficult deal. “Careful, I think Suguru might be using you as a bit of..collateral this time around.”
“Please, when is he not?” You’d mused.
He shrugged, putting the glasses on top of a mini tray. “Heard the guy he’s trying to slip into the lineup is a tough one to crack. It would be great for write-offs since it’s more of a..charity sort of thing. To put it safely.”
“Ah..guess I’ve got to show off a bit, huh?” Turning to face him, you blew a small kiss and he waved his hand, going back to the other people littered across the counter. You took that as your cue to drag the tray off the surface and up into your hands.
Of course, representation was everything. Every ounce of you had been perfectly molded and shaped by Suguru to be just what deserved the title of ‘posterboy’. So, even as you walked—all dolled up, head to toe in something that was, granted, much less showy than your performance attire, but still leaving just a bit to the imagination—you got stares, turning heads and waving to regulars that gave whistles of their own. You just had that effect.
With your 4-inch heels, beautifully decorated and wrapping halfway up your ankle, you ascended the steps with each graceful click of them. Soon, you reached the second floor and got a full view of the other high-end patrons that were indulging in the niceties. Slipping past them and maneuvering your way through the rowdy, drunk and high, you soon made it to the back room, concealed by a veil of velvet curtains and two security guards that immediately nodded toward you and pulled them back. There, you were met with a scene that..was unfortunately more common than anything.
Suguru, in all his glory—far more grown up now than when you’d met him in his early 20s—long, flowing, midnight-black locks that had long since reached past the middle of his back, adorned in the crispest attire that still just dripped with privilege and upper-class. Those glasses that have stood the test of time, now encrusted with finite diamonds at the hinges. Hair allowed to flow freely as he took a long drag from a cigarette that undoubtedly came from the open box laid out on the table, covered head to toe in full black—a button-down, tucked into the waistband that was sealed at the buckle by a Prada belt, loose St. Laurent pants, and a pair of Louis Vuitton combat boots to top it all off. To put it so shortly—he had grown into just a bit more of a show-off since your first meeting.
Though, no matter how gorgeous and well, damn near godsent he looked, there was no question that he was pissed.
It might’ve not been seen by the man across from him who wore a lazy expression, red-eyed and probably spewing out nonsense, but you’d grown to just know how to tell when Suguru’s buttons were being pushed. So, being the voice of reason, you plastered on that same show-stopping smile and gave just the slightest tilts of your head. “You summoned me, Geto?”
Like a switch had been flipped, Suguru raised his face up and behind you saw the vein that was throbbing in his temple go down. “Ah, there he is. My partner in crime, if you will. Come, you’ve brought something for this..” For a second, it looked like he was going to call him sorely out of his name, but instead he went with, “Gentleman.”
You gave a slight nod, sauntering over and setting the tray down on the table in front of the man, bending at just an angle to where the high-waisted leather shorts you were sporting allowed for a ‘better view’ for Suguru’s guest. He usually called on you to
 ‘distract’ the clients. Coax a bit more into them than they’d usually go for, make deals sound all the more sweeter..a little guilt tripping here and there—all the while Suguru made the numbers happen, you moved them into place.
Once they were sat down neatly on the Mahogany, Suguru crooked a subtle finger at you, to which you took small strides and lowered yourself by his side, letting your legs fall cross at the ankles over his lap. He shot you a look, to which you cocked an eyebrow that asked, ‘What?’.
“Your shoes.”
Glancing down, you pulled a confused expression that was all too attitudinal. “What about them, sir?”
“I know you weren’t raised to put shoes on the furniture. Off. Don’t embarrass me in front of our client.” He said, reaching down to undo the ties under your calves, leaving them loose enough for you to slide them off.
You quickly shot off an eyeroll, reaching down to push your Manolo Blahnik’s off and onto the floor neatly, giving a scoff under your breath. He always got like this when you were in front of people—correction—when you were in front of possible business affiliates. Suguru was particular about details he typically let slide when it was just your own establishment members. 
But especially when they were out-of-country investors. You think he’d let some bad manners ruin his potential financial endeavors? Please. 
“Priss.” You lightly bit, leaning back until you were able to rest your elbow on the arm of the couch. 
Paying that comment no mind, Surguru looked back at the man who had lit up a puffing, angry cigar. “Right, right, so—I know your expansion progress is goin’ well. You’re one of the most connected in this city—you grew up here. But among connections, the many that you do have, there’s also the matter of keepin’ track of everything. To be a name in a sea of..other ones ‘n zeroes and a bus load of other stats just sounds like I’m settin’ myself up for bankruptcy.” 
“Well, I take care of that,” Geto finished off for him, scarcely too fast to have not sounded like a cut-off. “More like, my friend here does. We don’t blow over any of our..associates. Your charity business, along with the amounts we’ve been bringing in will not only boost our image but you get funds on the side.” Leaning back a bit, he added in just a slight inaudible, “More time for you to feed your bullshit savior complex and let us benefit from it.” The back of your hand lightly tapped against his chest—a silent signal that his bitchiness was showing. That got a mumbled complaint that missed your ears. Probably for the best.
“He’s right,” you chimed in. “I’ve been in this gig for a while now—business and etcetera for even longer. Trust me when I say this pretty face isn’t just for show. The brain behind it is just as flawless. Investing into us, with enough time, effort, and coinciding cooperation,” a glare off to Suguru. “Then I’m much more than positive that you and your charity will be in the safest of hands.”
You could see the smile that spread across the man’s face upon hearing your coercion. Even so, he went on to say, “I don’t know..putting my money into such..dainty hands
I think a bit more..convincing is in order.”
Scrunching your face just a bit, you felt Suguru pinch the side of your thigh. It was often that your expressions spoke much louder than your mouth and he knew that just as well. He didn’t need a dirty look scaring off a potential customer—oh, no, no—it’d be your ass on the line if that were to happen. “And..what might be able to convince you
further, sir?” You’d forced out with that same posterboard smile.
“I think we both know. I mean..c’mon, sweetheart. You said you’ve been in this business a while..lookin’ like that? There’s no way you haven’t..” trailing off, he made a crude gesture with his hands. “How do you say..‘fucked your way to the top’. That is..if your boss here isn’t opposed.”
“I am.” Butting in almost instantly after he finished, Suguru brushed your legs off of his lap, standing up to his full, towering height. “And frankly, I don’t think I or my friend here take kindly to such—honestly, nauseating—proposals from people that we’re looking for in a professional sense. Your manners are fucking deplorable and the fact you came here, got high, started talking business, just to end up with trying to get your dick wet is..how do you say.. ‘Not a good look.’”
Heaving a sigh of relief, you situated yourself, bringing another, more genuine, small, smile to yourself in the wake of Suguru’s interjection. You had begun to slide your heels back on, taking your time to lace the strings back up your calf. The man had set down the cigar that had been stinking up the room, some of the ash falling off with a tap against the glass table. “That’s..prostitution, is it not, sir?” You’d piped up, leaning back and crossing your legs loosely as you tilted your head toward him. 
“Clever boy—that it is. And..how would a charity owner look in the news if..word got out that he was propositioning such a thing..? In a place, such as this?”
Kissing your teeth in a tutting fashion, you shook your head along. “Not good at all.” 
You both shared a look. A look that you both knew alllll too well. The look that meant you’d just—in layman's terms—secured the bag.
The man blustered as he looked at Suguru who’d stubbed out his cigarette into the ashtray and discarded the remains in the decorative trash can beside the couch, giving another small whistle to you that you’d rolled your eyes at but rose to your feet anyhow. 
Gliding across the room easily, you’d pulled open the bottom drawer of the small file cabinet that was tucked away into the corner. It was surrounded by other mountains of paperwork but not to the point where you couldn’t access. Humming a tune under your breath, you’d sifted through and pulled out one of many clipboards that were already prepped with papers for just the thing. You briskly walked back over, setting the clipboard in his lap and along with it, you allowed yourself to drape over his shoulders.
“What..what are these..?” his bushy brows knitted together as he flipped through the small packet that had two sections. 
Guiding his hand, you leaned into his ear, whispering, “This section..is all NDA. Mine and my colleague’s name are already signed, you just have to put yours.”
“..And
the rest..?”
“Oh, well
that’s where you sign away 75%, of course.” you had said it like it was nothing but his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he got ready to shove the clipboard away.
Once again interrupting, Suguru purred, “I..wouldn’t throw that away so hastily, if I were you.”
“75%? Are you two out of your fucking heads!?” 
“A tad,” Suguru replied curtly, dipping his hands into the pockets of his St. Laurents, methodically picking up the box of cigarettes that had lain forgotten on the table, kicking out another dart. “But that’s besides my point. My point is—you’ve no choice, essentially. Just as easily as we can dip that back into our filing cabinet, signed and safe, we could, just as easily, burn it. NDA and all which..gives us ample space to run our mouths off to well..anyone about what transpired here. And oh..you know how people just love to talk around here.”
Leaning in closer, you slipped out the pen that was clasped within the iron grip that held the papers together, propping it in his hand. “What’ll it be? 75% of your profit or..100% of your dignity, class, status, reputation..future?”
You could visually see the sweat beads forming on the man’s forehead and how they dripped down his nose. Whether it was because of the lines he’d done previous to your arrival or the sheer weight of the decision he was making—his stress was painfully obvious.
Though, you two must’ve struck a chord, given how he clicked out the pen tip and dragged his hand across all lines on the paper. NDA, profit as well as confidentiality of agreement. God knows if he bothered to read any sort of fine print. To go just an extra, petty mile, you placed a kiss on his cheek and cooed, “Good boy.” slipping off of him and back at Suguru’s side as the man cursed.
He had clearly overstayed his welcome, so, he stood up and Suguru outstretched his hand. Begrudgingly, the man took up the handshake firmly and rather aggressively. Settling his ruffled hair and the suit that looked like it would burst at the seams with any other huffs or puffs from him, the man stormed out of the room, “Pleasure doing business with you.” you and Suguru had chimed as he left. His face had been red with embarrassment, anger and just overall distress and soon enough, he disappeared behind the curtains. 
Sighing heavily, you’d flopped back down onto the couch, this time fully laying out and propping your feet up on the arm. “God, he smelled like alcohol and depression.” you’d remarked, closing your eyes with another hefty exhale.
“Those are typically the easiest to sway,” Suguru gave back, moving to sit down on the edge of the table, sliding the lighter there up into his palm and slipping a cigarette in between your lips. You closed your mouth around it, adjusting the tip with your fingers before feeling bits of hair falling over your face that weren’t your own. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw him perched over you, nudging the end of his cigarette against yours. “Need a light?” 
Obviously you did, so, he brought the flame between you two, holding it steady until both of yours lit up. You breathed in the smoke and just as you did, he slid onto the floor, keeping his elbow dug in beside your head. Uncomfortable with the position, you shifted onto your side, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of his face, just as he did the same for you.
“Though..I am curious about one thing, though,” he’d begun, resting the side of his face in his palm. 
“Which isss..?” 
“Don’t..take this the wrong way,” already, the precursor had you cocking an eyebrow. “Why..are you so hesitant to sleep with
well, anyone?” taking another drag, he puffed out small clouds as he spoke next. “You’ve got the charm, you’ve got the eyes, the lips..the body, in general and I know anyone would die to get a taste of my most prized..”
“Possession?” you’d finished off for him. Looking askance for a moment, he shrugged it off, seemingly a silent agreement. “Well..it’s prostitution.”
Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “Not if you don’t get paid for it.” 
You sat up a bit straighter, bringing yourself up to a sitting position looking down on him for a time being as you rested your leg on his shoulder, breathing in a longgg inhale of the burning leaves. “And why are you so curious, huh? You’re my employer—not my ‘friend’ as you so candidly put it in front of our guest. Much less any sort of partner or..person of interest.”
“Call it simple curiosity,” he brushed off, switching hands with his own cigarette and once again, stubbing it out on the ashtray, only to leave it there instead of fully discarding. “But..in my eyes? I think you’re just a prude.”
Now that got your attention even more. Those deep violets were boring up into yours and you found yourself tipping his head back so that the contact remained on an elevated level—on his part. “What makes you think that? The fact that I’m not opening my legs up for the first person who asks for it? Please. Those are called standards. High ones. I just..haven’t met someone who’s met them.”
“Then..wait. You..have fucked before, is what you’re saying?” Harsh, harsh silence ensued and with each passing moment, you watched his expression gradually come down to that of understanding. Then, it shifted to mild disbelief. “No. Fucking. Way. You’re a virgin? After..how many years? Never even..I don’t know, tried fellatio? Given, received—”
“No, Suguru! God. Why do you have to be so fuckin’ pushy all the time?” You attempted to slide your leg off of his shoulder, but a hand was already holding it there. Not moving, poking or prodding, just holding. “I’ve never done..any of that. And it’s not something I want to talk about. Especially not with you.”
A slight huffing fit and you ultimately turned your head off to the side, taking an angered drag to your almost-burnt-out dart. “I’m pushy because you make me push. You never give up information easily, you just hint at it, never elaborate and expect me to move on—it’s a common theme, regardless of context. You’re just pissy because I’m making you confront something that you didn’t want to. Once again, being a pussy.”
“Oh yeah? Then why the fuck are we still talking? Huh? You got the information you wanted, you have successfully pissed me off, you got your deal for the night and yet you’re still right here, running. Your. Mouth.” you’d hiss, finally coming to make eye contact once more. With each insult, each snide and snippy remark, you felt his fingers tightening on your leg in a subconscious manner. 
With a final adjusting of the set his jaw was at, he gave a soft wry. Truly, if getting under your skin was an Ivy League competition—he’d win first place every time. “Come shut it then. Since you’re the big and bad adult virgin, then you can actually do something about it, right? You can stop being all whiny, stop bitching and moaning about shit never changing and actually put some actions behind your baseless words for once. Go on. I’m all ears, let’s see how you try to sweet talk your way out of growing a pair. Again.”
You were thoroughly flustered at his prompt, taking a glance over at the drawn curtains and then back at him with a look that was a bit short of confused. “I..”
“You?”
“We haven’t even..closed up yet. We have a whole busload of patrons right outside of those curtains, drinking and smoking and doing whatever the fuck and you decide that now is a good time to try and jeer me out of my virginity? What makes you think you’re even the type I go for? Is it just that big ass ego talking, again?”
Seeming to have gotten just relatively annoyed, Suguru had pulled you a bit further off of the couch, bringing your leg to rest on his hip as he leaned in to loom over you. “Look at that—more excuses,” a deadly cold tone in his voice, hands now planting against the back of the couch, he stared down at you with a mix of heavyset irritation and rolled his tongue over the backs of his teeth—a habit. “First the fuck of all,”
“It’s a strip club, a night club at that, of course we’re not closing anytime soon. Second of all, I don’t have to persuade or coax or jeer you out of jack shit—you’re too smart and too stubborn for that. If I want something from someone, I’ll take it when they give it up and never a minute sooner or later. And as for me knowing I’m your type,” he took the time to pull your chin up into his hand, smirking down at your adorable, seething, angry expression. “Eyes talk. They talk loud.”
“Can you hear mine saying, ‘fuck you’ right now?”
“Boy, please. More like asking me to fuck you.” he immediately shot back.
That was one thing that you two leveled on—the levels of attitude and pure sass that flowed between your interactions. It was what made you two such repelling forces at times. Both your greatest strengths and the ultimate downfall that wound you both up at each other’s throats. God help anyone who was caught in the fray.
You made no move to jerk your face away or even move at all
so he did.
The same hand that held your face snaked a thumb into your mouth and every instinct inside you screamed to bite down. But as if he read your mind, “Don’t even think about biting me. You’re the younger but you can still get handled like you’re as grown as you like to fuckin’ act.” he warned, low and sharp. And you knew he meant every word of it.
Tasting of misplaced tobacco and his hand lotion—cedar and vanilla—you reluctantly analyzed the flavor that his finger painted your tongue with. In turn, he let his thumb slip deeper into your saliva-slick cavern, pressing up against your cheeks, down on your tongue, running along the edges of your teeth and after a bit, you’d become a bit pliant to it, letting your jaw slack in time when he pulled at your bottom lip. “Tongue out.”
Complying, you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and you watched as he leaned down to your level, smiling languidly at your pouting face. “Tell me, spitfire. If I’m sooo not your type, then why haven’t you pulled back? Why haven’t you pushed me off? We both know that if you had really wanted to bite, then you would have.”
“I just..”
“Just..what? Realized that you’re full of shit? It’s not that hard to recognize when someone has feelings for me, y’know. I’m not nearly as dense as you perceive me to be,” With that, he got lower, sliding his hand down to where it was perched beside your head. In time, his knee came to part your thighs slightly as he breathed in every breath you drew out. Holding there, staring so intently into your slitted eyes, he closed the distance. 
He searched for any sign that you hated it, any fight left behind your eyes as his tongue worked its way into your mouth—dominating the exchange easily as it pushed deeper into your awaiting maw. Easily, you could feel the tip of it tickling the roof of your mouth, coming down to twist and suck on your own. All the while, he’d kept his eyes open, glued onto your own until they finally closed and ultimately succumbed to the welcomed invasion. 
It was hot, sloppy, almost and you could’ve sworn he tasted so much like nectar that, if you’d wanted to, you could bottle it up and sell it as the finest honey. Almost intoxicating. In the way he drifted his hand down to the hinges of your jaw, the way he was groaning into the kiss, the way his tongue slipped and slid against yours in a sticky cacophony. You felt like you were getting drunk off of it..and that was in a literal sense.
After a few minutes of this, of stolen breaths, you could already feel your body temperature rising. At an unnatural rate. Heaving a few breaths, you wiped off your mouth and lifted the remaining mixture of your saliva to sniff it. It..did smell sweet.
“Did you just..fucking drug me, Geto?” 
Shaking his head lightly, you heard a laugh of true amusement escape him. “Not..exactly.”
“Don’t be vague with me, prick. What did you..do..?” In regards to your question, you readily clammed up your thighs, only to be paused by the intrusion of one of his own between them. 
“Pfft- I kissed you, obviously,” Looking over you, his eyes landed on what had prompted your question in the first place. “Oh. Are you..”
Flushing almost instantly, you shoved his face to the side lightly. “Don’t..stare. It’s rude.”
“Ha, I’m rude now, huh? You’re the one who can’t handle a little makeout session without getting a hard-on. But, by all means; let’s stop here. I’ll walk out of this room and you can go right ahead and stay here, rub one out allll on your lonesome and we can pretend this never even happened,” He brought you hand back down, nailing it against the plush of the couch cushion as he pressed his lips up against the shell of your ear. “You can go back to being nothing but a fucking tease—flaunting off what you never plan on giving up because..you’re too scared to. Doesn’t that just sound like the perfect, unfulfilled and empty little life you’ve always dreamt of?”
 You were more than pissed off, shaking him away from your ear to where you thudded your forehead against his, noses just short of brushing against each other as you glared at him with fire and embers crackling in your irises. “Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you. You think that you’re so much better than me because you’ve gotten your dick wet?”
“Among others.”
The slightest twitch of your eyebrow and you dragged him in with a nipping of his bottom lip. “Then let me prove you wrong. If you think that I’m too pussy to do something, then let me prove you dead wrong. I’ll let you fuck me and I’ll own that shit. I’ll own you. You arrogant, stuck-up, egotistical assho—” another cutoff, and this time, he was on you. 
In complete and total honesty, he tuned you out at ‘I’ll let you fuck me’ and whatever else was meaningless. Fumbling around with the laces he’d undone so easily on your calves before, he pulled them loose and slipped one off before sending you both down into the couch with ease. Kissing down your jawline, hair draping over your chest as he did so, he hastily tugged at the strings of the other before it gave and you readily kicked it off to the floor where it landed with a thump.
Once your legs were bare, he ran his hands up until they landed on your thighs, resting them there and just kneading the soft skin between his fingers, just getting a good feel for you as he leaned down to tug the hem your crop up, using his tongue to shove it into your mouth where he breathlessly commanded, “Hold.” and you readily obliged. Your teeth came down to do exactly as you were told and keeping your eyes on his every move, you watched Suguru kiss down the middle of your chest, paying so much attention that you were caught so off guard when he started biting. 
Not just one, not two, not three but half-near a dozen wherever it was blank enough. From your flushed red nipples that he teased mercilessly with his tongue, only to sink his..abnormally sharp teeth into one, lapping at the bits of red that blossomed from the small incisions—dragging his face over to repeat the steps all over again.
From your ribs to your sides, to your hips which he had to drag your shorts to aside for—he was marking you the fuck up. But oh, you didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop, to tell him that it hurt when his canines sunk a centimeter too deep—oh no, you were loving every second. The delicious mix of pleasure-pain that danced and prickled your skin was too good to give up. So much so that you’d begun to do the work on your own, bringing both of your hands up to your pebbled protrusions, pinching and rubbing in alternating doses to try and imitate the feeling that his mouth had placed there previously.
Other than the heavy breathing fits coming from the both of you, the room was relatively quiet. Only the sounds of the other club members cutting up and acting a plum fool were available for any auditory distraction. It was easy to get lost in it before you’d felt your waistband being tugged on. Not completely coming down but just so to where he could get a fair look at your happy trail.
That was when he placed a hickey right under your belly button, dipping lower to the flat valley between either of your hips to give yet another bite. But..this one, this one was so much different. 
He’d held his face there, gaining a hold on your hips that was nearly bruising and weird enough..it felt like he was pumping something into you. A weird surge of energy that you could’ve sworn you felt directly shooting up your tailbone and creating a deep pool of heat at the source. “F-fuck..! That feels..mhn~” still, he held his face there and the longer he did, the longer that
that feeling started to burn. 
Dead silent, save for the soft sucking sounds he made with each kiss of his lips that rained on that same spot, Suguru stayed planted right there. He began to rub soothing circles on your sides and by that time, your stomach was searing. A foreign sort of sensation that had your hand drifting down to fist his hair, trying to tug him off for just a moment, just a minute to breathe through it. Allowing no such thing, Suguru gave a gentle grunt against your skin and you felt his teeth sink impossibly deeper into your pelvis. Then, right then was where it had bordered on painful and that final crackle of pressure and electricity was sent barrelling up your spine in a way that sent a strained, throaty groan tumbling from your lips.
Shifting his focus, one of his hands traveled back up, covering your mouth up which you had no choice but to moan into, letting some of the saliva gathering at the corners of your lips spread across his palm. Your free hand was up on his wrist in an instant—not tugging him away but just holding it for dear life as the pain set in. It was only a moment, you swore, that your eyes tore off of his mouth and its ministrations, head sent to fall back into the arm of the couch, before the haze began to cloud your vision.
Your body becoming more pliant in his hand, Suguru finally pulled off with a hum of approval. “Thaat’s it..you alright there? Aw, you must be so confused, huh? Mr. Knoitall, not knowing a single thing about what’s going on around him, about what’s happening to him. So frustrating, isn’t it?” he’d teased, rubbing over that same spot where his mouth had previously been and using his grip on either of your cheeks to tilt your gaze down. And even in the state of yours that was bordering on delirious, you could see it.
Branded on your skin like some lame temporary tattoo, was a..a sigil..? No, no..more like a binding seal, covered up by pretty twists and turns, topped off with a black heart, scrawled with the faintest of glows to it. You began to panic, obviously, but the majority of your focus was drawn to the pure headrush you’d gotten from the action of him planting it there. That wasn’t it, that wasn’t even half of it.
Right before your eyes, you witnessed something you’d only heard or seen in shitty porn flicks and fantasy novels; Suguru, in all of his stoic, laidback, seemingly harmless—heavy on the ‘seemingly’—had begun to..to change. Into something
not even of this world. 
Thick, black horns, sprouting from the roots of his inky locks, curling in on themselves until they sat so perfectly on the top of his head. A set of teeth that actually matched the previous bites you’d felt, now decorating the inside of his mouth, sharpened nails that now started to dig into your cheeks, just short of breaking skin, and what took the cake was that winding, thin, tail—finishing at the end with a perfect point. 
Suguru smiled devilishly at the way your expression shifted from that of utterly entranced in your own bodily heat and flush to one of panic and deadly realization. This entire time, the past four years, you were..well, fucking with a demon. Not just in the sense of his personality, not just in the way he had climbed the ranks of the underground business world, not just in how he so so easily could talk his way out of any sort of trouble—a literal demon. In every sense of the word. “Fuck, I’ve waited too long for this. For you. I’m genuinely surprised it took you this long to piece together,”
“It took so much warming up to, so much..naïve trust, so many stupid nights spent listening to you ramble on, and on and on about your shitty romantic luck with these lowlife humans, so many numbers upon numbers forged and carefully curated together for us to get..here,” he spoke as if he was some sort of grand adventurist, some deep sea diver who had finally come up on Atlantis. “Did you have fun? Playing this game with me, rising above all the rest with me, building a goddamn empire with me, with you as the eye of the storm I was creating?”
Leaning down, he saw how your eyes had widened up with fear, not at all quelled by the new realm of heat and desire that flowed freely through your veins like the finest of drugs. And only then, seeing that unfamiliar sight, the way you were mentally slipping from his grasp, only then did he drop his voice back down to a purr, pressing his hand just a bit harder against your mouth as you struggled with wrapping your head around it all. “Hey, heyy, calm the fuck down. It’s too much to explain, not enough time nor..privacy to get into details, but I assure you, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Obviously, your eyebrows fell at a slant—he had to be lying..right? 
“Come on. Wise up, will you? If I wanted to hurt you, to wreck your life, to bring you to your knees..I would have done so by now. While I did..withhold the truth for a minute there..I came clean, didn’t I? I’m still the same man you met that day..” he breathed, coming in closer to your face, leaving enough distance to where you could see nothing past his dark tresses and those pretty, pretty amethysts. “The man who convinced you to go on this journey..the man you trusted enough to dive head first into this with, the man who fucking made you. Remember that, honey?”
Searching your eyes for the same fight that had lingered just a moment, he saw it dimming and along with that, felt your breathing evening out—well, as much as it could with the effects of his aphrodisiac-riddled tongue still laying waste. “Yeahhh, yeah you do. I know you do. So..promise me something, won’t you? I’m going to take my hand off and you’re not going to scream. That’s a promise. Isn’t it?”
Nodding slowly, you had to will yourself to accept the reality of your position. And just as both of you promised—his hand was off of you and your vocal track was still. “There we go..I guess you do know how to shut the fuck up. When it counts, at least.”
“I..I don’t
understand.” you’d simpered off.
“And you don’t need to. But for a basic rundown, I’m an incubus. Sent here to Earth to satiate the darkest and most carnal parts of human existence. Typically, though..we hop from person to person but..you,” licking a stripe up from the side of your throat, all the way up to your ear once more, he finished, “You were so worth the wait.”
It was easy for that to elicit the smallest of whimpers from you, given your heightened state of arousal and general sensitivity. “Getting to know you, see how you operate, how you tease, how you taunt, how you work, how you tick..it’s things like that which make the moment of climax, of unraveling you to the fullest and deepest extent that an incubus should strive for. Taking my time with you was the best decision of my fucking career. Because well, haha, look at you now.” Your cheeks turned that deep shade of rose and once again, you were looking up at him in a manner that was just too hard to even peel his gaze off of. “So..what about..that?” you’d gestured down to where the tattoo was embedded into your skin and back up to him. “Is it..permanent
?” 
“God no,” he laughed. “There’s just..one way to get rid of it.”
“Which is..?”
Suguru took a moment to wrap your legs up around his waist, creating a slow grind of friction between both of your aching erections, sadly confined by the layers of fabric that marred them. “Letting me cum deep inside this pretty fuckin’ body. Letting me be the first to taint you, letting me take you to heights that your beautiful mind hasn’t even thought to fathom before..letting me fuck you full until you can’t take it anymore. Then and only then, will you be rid of that pesky mark. Be rid of that burning need you feel in your core.”
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” the speed at which the words came from your mouth left both of you just a bit stunned. He hadn’t expected you to give such a brazen and honest cajole into what he wanted and you didn’t realize until you said it just how badly you craved it. In your head, maybe you’d reasoned that it was just the influence of the mark, of the aphrodisiac-soaked kisses but..
You’d be a filthy liar if you said you hadn’t been thinking about something under the same notes from the day you laid eyes on him. 
Now, though, it was anyone’s game. And Suguru took that and bolted.
Within seconds, he had reached down, gathering your legs into his arms as he pulled your shorts and smallclothes up and over your skin with ease, exposing your most intimate areas to the cold, unforgiving air of the A/C unit, sliding his hand right back between your thighs, only now, his fingers were wrapping around your leaking shaft, using precision to build a gentle rhythm for the idle handjob he was giving you. 
It was so simple but it felt worlds different than when you did it on your own. His hand was larger, covered more ground with less effort and if compared, it was slightly rougher which made it easy to create friction. Your hands fell back over your mouth as you took in the details that were producing the repeated squelching sounds ringing out into the air. “Damn, you really are a virgin, huh? Aww, is the sensitivity getting to you that bad? You’re dripping like a faucet down here..” his actions were dirty but his mouth was just downright nasty.
Amid every pass of his hand, you felt your thighs trembling around his wrist, making your eyes flutter as you neatly rested your head back against the couch once again. It wasn’t a surprise when you heard his belt coming undone, snapping your sights back to where he’d slid the Prada out of its comfy holsters and let it slip onto the floor with a series of clinks. His free hand, taking initiative, slid his pants down just enough for his hardened length to spring up, eager and waiting—despite how he had been teasing you about the way you were spilling out, he was barely any better. The tip of his cock was just drooling, offering enough for him to slick his hand up from base to tip, twisting on the upstroke. A mirror of what his other was doing to you.
Another minute or so and he had begun to feel how you twitched and tensed in his grip, seemingly growing harder as he sped up. But what he also noticed was how your voice was slipping. Now that was a definite no-go. For as much of an exhibitionist as he was, it wasn’t really on his bingo card to get caught. Not like this. So what did he do? The only thing that he found logical of course.
His fingers let go of you, leaving you to shudder and whine for a moment as per the loss of stimulation. Setting your legs back down neatly onto the couch, he took another second to hop off of the couch, coming to the head of it where your pretty face lay, all unassuming and just begging for the next high of physicality that you could reach. It wasn’t long before he was gently tapping his fat tip against your slightly parted lips, smirking down at you as you saw the way his tail mildly whipped behind him. “Hey..I know you’re not a fan of getting caught in the moment
I can’t say I am either. I also know how desperate you are to make a mess on my hand, so..how about we kill two birds with one..stone?” punctuating his words, he just barely nudged his cock between your lips.
You could taste the pre that ran off of it and your heart was just racing at the idea of it. Right here, right now, he wanted you to suck him dry whilst he jerked you off
with who knows how many people just a few yards away. Though..coming from him..right now? It didn’t sound bad at all.
Giving a coy nod, you watched his eyes light up as he came to lean over you more properly once again. Slowly, steadily, he eased inch by inch into your mouth, gaining a new hold on your hardness that stood at attention, pleading for his attention. “Wider,” he instructed. “I shouldn’t feel your teeth.” Trying your best, you made your lips stretch obscenely around his shaft, pulling your lips in just a bit to make up for the distance you couldn’t open up. “Theree you go. Just keep your..hah, mouth open, just like that. Let me do alll the work.” followed by a strained groan, you felt his hand start to move along your own length, multitasking as he fully reached the back of your mouth.
Expecting him to pull it out before you lost your breath, you were surprised when he..didn’t. Your hands came up to his thighs, just barely splaying before he was hissing out another command. “Hands off. Relax. Relax your throat, swallow around me,” guiding your movements, he brought his free up under your neck, feeling exactly where he was nestled in so snugly. A teasing roll of his hips and Suguru felt you starting to obey. “Ahh..thaat’s right. Breathe through your nose, don’t worry about moving just..just let me..fuck..” his words fell short as he shifted his hold from your neck to the back of your head, snaking his fingers through your hair as he held you there.
Along with that, he’d continued the shlicking of his hand up and down your cock, feeling how the beads of pre rolled off. Suguru’s thumb swiped across your slit, pressing down as he methodically moved it back and forth there and among the dual focus, he got a wicked idea. 
Still, slowly pistoning his hips in and out of the constricting cavern of your mouth, he slithered his tail up to coil around your shaft, creating a bit of spring action in the way it stroked you off. It was so much different from his hand, a tighter hold but just as easily gliding over your sensitive skin in a way that felt way too good. 
Your head was just swimming—mouth full of cock, your own being handled with the most care you’d ever felt, struggling to register everything—and Suguru leaned back just a bit, reveling in the way your moans sent vibrations reverberating up his girth. This angle let him get even deeper into your throat, just so that slight upward curve could tickle your uvula in a way that would’ve triggered your... “Shit, no gag reflex? You really are wasted potential..fuckin’ incarnated,” he groaned breathily, continuing to let his hips swing back and forth, hitting the back of and pushing just past the opening of your esophagus with each pass. “Look at me, pretty. Lemme see how you look while I’m fuckin’ this gorgeous face..c’mon..”
Prompted and complying, your tear-stricken eyes looked back up at him, vision mildly blurred by the saltwater that marred them and threatened to spill over. Though, what Suguru had not anticipated was just how divine you looked with him down your throat. How your cheeks were all puffed out, the low-lidded eyes you were giving him, how utterly pathetic you looked—it took him a minute to realize that you were, in fact, just getting close. Precariously close to a climax with how his tail had sped up its spring coil rhythm. Suguru, so caught up in his own pleasure he hadn’t even realized how his body was reacting and affecting yours in return.
“F-fuck..I’m..” he brought his other hand over, lacing it through your hair to gain a better grip on your head as he quite literally forced you to deepthroat him. Again and again, deeper than before, he dug his cock into your throat to the point where your nose would be mushed against his pelvis, tickled by the wiry hairs surrounding the base. He was getting vocal with it, but then again, so were you. 
Choking and sputtering around him to the point where drool had coated every section of his pulsing dick, messily coating your lips and spilling out onto the cushion of the couch. That of which your hands had been holding onto dear life to, nails digging into the fabric as you felt your own impending release building up. “Nghh..~ ‘M gonna fuckin’ cum..” he announced, completely unaware of how his grip on your hair and his tail’s on your shaft tightened. “Swallow..swallow every last d-drop of me.. If you waste any, I’ll keep goin’ ‘till neither of us can take it..” 
Of course, he didn’t really mean it..or, that’s what you told yourself at least, for a fleeting moment. Though, almost nothing mattered in the next few moments as you felt that tight coil in your stomach finally snap and cause the first drops of your release to begin dripping onto the couch cushions before your hips were full on writhing, rutting against nothing but air as your load was sent covering up your stomach and thighs, leaving you panting and desperate for any breath of oxygen you could get.
Eyes rolling just enough to create a tension at the front of your head, Suguru angled in all the way, dragging your mouth fully down onto his cock as he found his own climax deep within the confines of your mouth. Your lips were practically kissing his pelvic arch as you fell slack in his grasp. His head fell back and you felt the moment the first hot rope was shot down your throat, could feel it in how his balls twitched and came in close to his body, completely emptying himself out. 
“Mhmm..swallow it
drink it all down..my gift..from me, to you,” he rambled, grinding his hips up against your face and riding out both of your orgasms until you were both left in a relative mess. After he made sure to finish up properly, he let his softening cock slip out from your mouth, leaving you to cough and reflexively swallow repeatedly. His tail allowed your own respite as it loosened and finally fell away. “I think I’m actually glad I didn’t let that old fuck get his hands on you before me.” he chuckled dryly, running a hand through the hairs that had fallen out of place.
After regaining your composure, you’d look up at him and then down to the mess that you’d made of well..yourself. Suguru had flicked his tail around, looking at what you’d left behind and smiled that small grin you’d grown so accustomed to. “What? You did that.”
“B-because..” you had brought a hand up to your throat, realizing you were being too hasty with how raw it felt already. Dramatics..were always in your deck of cards. “You didn’t..the mark is..still there.”
“Oh, well..” Suguru stalked ever closer, cupping your spit and tear-drenched face, licking away at a tear track before chuckling darkly in response to your only concern after everything that had just transpired. “Guess we’re not done here yet, then. Huh?”
        ⋆âș₊⋆ â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”âŠ±àŒ’ïžŽ ‱ àŒ’ïžŽâŠ°â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” ⋆âș₊⋆
“Come the fuck on, you call that riding?” Suguru had lightly jeered from under you, feet fully planted on the ground as you squirmed every so often on his lap. It had only been a few minutes since you’d even taken the whole thing. All 8.2, now tightly hugged by your velvety insides. The only reason he’d given the courtesy of letting you get on top was because..it was your first time. And he knew better than anyone how ‘out of hand’ he could get when it came to fucking. 
But fuck was it hard not to just start thrusting up into you without any warning, to listen to the yelps that you’d let out, how you’d let the whole damn establishment know who was impaling you on their cock, to let every scumbag, gambler, addict, slut, whore within the walls of the place know—you were his. Though, he didn’t want to scare you off, didn’t want to have to hear your fucking mouth after the fact, and so, here he was, staring up at your flushed face as you basically—little less than—cockwarmed him.
“I’m..t-tryin’, Sugu..~” you’d complained, stirring your hips in a small circle that gave you more than enough insight as to what you were getting into. “Not my fault you’re so..”
A grind up had you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, immediately stifling the moan that was about to pour out. “Big? Yeah, I know. But seriously, you’re killing me here. I get first-time jitters but..” trailing off, Suguru couldn’t help but finally register what you’d called him. “Wait, wait, say that again?”
“N-not my fault..?”
“Before that.” 
Pulling a slight pout, you huffed out. “Sugu..?” Oh, if it wasn’t hard before, that particular whine of his name was enough for him to throw just a bit of caution to the wind. That he did, given how he’d started creating his own circles with his hips, grinding up into you and just memorizing each and every ridge that made your tight channel so damn visceral. 
“Yeahh, keeep callin’ me that. It sounds so fuckin’ right on your lips,” he panted, adjusting his grip on your hips to guide your hesitant movements, making them bolder, deeper, sooo much fucking deeper than you’d initially intended. “Hey, put your head on my shoulder, arch your back more. I want to try somethin’ out..”
You were just happy he was giving you a new method to keep your voice down that wouldn’t involve having to swallow your own blood, so, following his words to the letter, you let your head fall forward, adjusting to where your face was nuzzled into the side of his neck comfortably. His cologne still lingered, even in the midst of your coupling. It wasn’t too bad that you greedily drank in the scent, mildly just disguised as being out of breath.
Tranquility being relatively snapped, you felt his hands sliding down your arms, slowly, caressing before he guided them to gather right about your tailbone. Confused, you began to peek your head up, but you got a clue real fuckin’ quick. His tail had curled around your wrists, threading through as he held your arms there long enough for him to get a secure hold on you—long enough for him to take the reins on this ride.
“Much fuckin’ better..now, try to keep your voice down, yeah? If you cause a scene..anyone could just peek riiight through those curtains,” he leaned in to nip at your ear, letting a rumbling laughter escape him. “And see how much of a needy slut you are for me. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”
Blushing more than you cared to admit, you found yourself shaking your head in response. He took up your face in his hand again, directing your gaze right into his. “Words.”
“N-no..no we wouldn’t.”
“What’s my name?”
Shrinking in on yourself a bit, you pulled what had to be the most adorable expression of embarrassment Suguru had ever seen on anyone. All the more sweeter was seeing it on your face. “Suguru..” you’d whimper out in response. Well, you never had to tell him twice when it came to something he already wanted to do.
“Good fuckin’ boyyy,” he almost growled against your skin, starting up his own pace inside of you. Oh, when he started moving—letting the fat crown of his cock pummel its way through your narrow heat, you almost immediately fell forward once more, burying your face right back where it belonged. “Aw, can you feel it?”
You nodded, letting your fingers clench and unclench behind your back, digging into your palms, only to leave crescents in their wake when you relaxed them again. In no time at all, he was holding you up, a firm hold under each junction where your ass and thighs connected, bringing you up and down, up and downn, each time prompting another choked up moan to escape your lips. “Keep it down.” he chided, to which you smothered your mouth against the side of his neck.
Suguru leaned back a bit, taking you with him as he continued his ministrations. You could hear the ragged edge building in his breath as he stirred up your innards, picking up the depth and with it, the intensity—deep, looongg strokes that felt like they were in your fucking stomach at some points. At a certain threshold, you’d had to simply bite down on the crevice of his neck and shoulder, causing a slightly pained hiss to leave him, steadily dulled out by a series of efforting grunts. 
“Sugu-ru..~” you mewled out in between the continuous, upward drive of his hips. “.. ‘M gonna..c-cum again..~” 
“Like hell you are,” he replied curtly. You felt his tail tighten around your wrists and alongside it, his hold on you. “Cumming on my cock, without my permission? That shit doesn’t even sound right,” elaborating further, he punctuated his point by speeding up his pace and instead of moving you, he kept you hovering above him as he fucked up into you at an angle that gave him ample opportunity to drive you wild. “Fuckin’..mhn..~ Hold it. Hold it in and if you can’t, then I guess I’ll fuck you until you get it through your head. Understood?” Frantically, you nodded your head, a breathy series of whines following suit. “Words, slut.”
“Ahh~! Y-yes, Suguru..nghh, fuuckk..~!” voice cracking on the last syllable, you fell back into him, already feeling the haze gracing your eyes due to the way he was fucking bullying your prostate, drawing out strained ‘oohs’ and ‘oh, fuck’s each time he would draaagg himself in and out. Consequences be damned, you knew at least someone had already heard you. 
If not you, then him. “Shiiit, it’s like you were fuckin’—fuck..~ Made for this. Uhuhh, made to take every inch of this dick, made to just go braindead on my dick. Mhmm, no more backtalk, no more fuckin’ attitude. Just how it should always be..” just absolutely rambling. In your own fucked-out state of mind, his words barely even registered, barely even clicked but this was his way of coping with..you.
Coping with how ungodly perfect you felt wrapped around him, your walls fluttering and clenching down on him, sucking him back in each time he pulled out. Like your body was screaming, just to make up for what your mouth wasn’t currently allowed to fulfill. 
His hand found its way through your hair again, this time, tugging your head back with a yank that exposed your throat sooo nicely, that brought your face right above his, letting him lean in to paint any parts of your blank canvas with more hickeys, more straight up bite marks that he didn’t even bother to lick back up. He knew you were too gone to care. Too cockdrunk to properly comprehend anything around you, let alone a little bit of pain. 
Right on the edge, he held you there for what felt like millenia before you felt the stutter of his own hips, felt his fingers tightening in the roots of your hair, heard his sharp inhales and exhales as he fucked you both ever closer to the second climax of the night. You knew that you wouldn’t last much longer, not with the arch your back felt permanently stuck at, not with how he was hitting that spot like it was a goddamn golden buzzer on AGT, not with how your cock had just been crying onto his lap, messing up his poor, poor button-down. Good thing the man seemed to not know that other colors existed on the spectrum besides monochrome.
“Pleaseee..~ Fuckin’ p-please, I’m so..ngh~!” you’d cried out through your teeth, arms already straining against the bind they were in, only to be pulled right back down into place by his tail coiling ever-tighter around your wrists. “God, please..!”
Suguru knew exactly what you meant. He knew what you needed. He knew what you fuckin’ yearned for that only he could give you. “Beg. Beg for me to let you spill your load alll over my lap, to f-fucking..dirty up my couch, to let go, to feel that rush—beg for it.”
“I already—ahh..~!”
“You can do better than that. So much..haah~ fuckin’ better..” 
The coil in your stomach wasn’t matching up with the speed at which your mouth was moving, so, in a last, desperate attempt to just get what you needed, you wound up saying ‘fuck it’ to trying to keep your voice down. “Pleasee, Suguru~ Please, I’ll b-be so fuckin’ good f-for you, just..please~! Make me cum..~ L-let me cum, please, God, please~”
“There he is,” he huffed in response, sending both of your lips crashing together, doing very minimal damage control on the fact that everyone outside, without a shadow of a doubt just heard you beg Suguru to cum like your life depended on it. But..who fucking cares? You sure didn’t, not with how your own hips had begun to swing and grind in tandem with his, trying to match his rhythm as your orgasm was sent over you in harsh, shuddering waves.
You felt the moment the coil snapped, felt the very instant that you came undone in his arms, all of your cries and sounds of pure ecstasy being swallowed up greedily by Suguru as he took one final, deep thrust up into you, simultaneously slamming you down to the hilt in a way that shook you down to the marrow as your seed painted over his chest and lap in a descending incline.
As you rode out yours, his own frothy load started to flood your insides, filling you up to the brim as he fucked it back into you, coming to a gradual stop—not before giving you a small taste of overstimulation, giving a grinding against the plush of your ass that had now basically swallowed his cock whole. After just a few pulses, it was seeping out of you, dripping down your thighs and coating his own balls in the remains of both of your intense bodygasms. 
Once he was sure that he’d given alll that he so generously offered up to you, he allowed his tail to release its hold on your wrists, having left red indents where its hold had previously been. Bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, you slumped into his chest, heaving a heavy, contented sigh. It took him a minute to realize that the dampness on his chest wasn’t just your cum that had stained it but your own salty droplets.
“Why the tears..? Was that..” his voice had dropped to one of reluctant concern, and the vice-like grip he had on your hair before, loosened, leaving him to idly card his fingers through. Waiting patiently for your response, he made no move to even pull out, or even..get out of this moment with you. Not having to hear your voice droning on or nagging was a rarity, afterall.
Giving yourself a moment, you pulled back, wiping off your eyes with the heel of your palm, sniffling in just a bit. “I’m just..really glad it was you
” you’d admitted softly, seeing the faintest red tinge Suguru’s cheeks. 
“Don’t go..getting all soft on me, now. I just..hate seeing all of..you go to waste. I told you since..the day I met you, in fact. Remember?” his voice was missing that sharp edge that had been so present just moments ago—it could’ve very well been traced to the fact that he was literally still going soft inside of you but you decided to take it as a sign that you had made some kind of newfound progress in your relationship. “You deserve to be treated, to be valued, to be fucked by someone who sees the fact that you rise above..all this shit.”
Letting your head loll into his palm, Suguru slipped his hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the apple of it. “I talk my stuff, I get business done, and I manage this entire..other world that we’ve built together. But I am..virtually nothing
without you.” you could’ve sworn that you heard your heart melting and pouring out from your insides. That also could have just been the cum that was dripping down your thighs still but

“Pfft- look who’s going soft now,” teased lightly, even as you were wiping more tears away from your eyes. “Speaking of..would you
ahem, mind..?”
Suguru had planned on staying inside just a bit longer, but he gave in either way, pulling your hips up and letting his softened cock slip out of your cum-soaked hole with a lewd squelch that was chased by a wet pop! that had you shivering as he let you come back down to relax on his chest. Finally able to catch your breath after what felt like eons.
“Everyone’s..probably worried about where we are right now.” you’d reminded, only to be pulled in closer to Suguru’s chest, where he rested his chin on top of your head, sighing heavily as he propped one of his boots—which he’d been too caught up to even take off in the first place—up on the table.
“Let them,” he’d responded idly. “I, in complete and total honesty, could not give less of a fuck about anyone that’s outside of this room right now.” 
The admission wasn’t too out of the ordinary for him but, given the fact he hadn’t even bothered to revert back, you’d take it upon yourself to ask the burning question, “So uhm..how long has..this been a thing, huh?”
“Oh, what? Being an incubus?”
“Uhuh. I mean—did you like..already die or something?” you pressed curiously.
That let him give a bark of laughter as he ran his hands up your sides, focusing on the pressure points there that had you easing into the touch. “No, not quite. I guess you could say I was..born like this..? I suppose. It’s never been that much of a quarrel for me.”
“Were your parents demons too? I mean, do you come from Hell?” 
“You ask way too many questions for someone who just lost their virginity to a literal incubus.” he gave back.
Shrugging, you put out your bottom lip a bit. “Let’s just say.. ‘I’m curious.’”
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and lay down for me, will you?” Suguru prompted, to which you instinctively tilted your head to the side. It was a natural thing you did that never ceased to make him think of you as some sort of..puppy, at times. 
“And..why is that..?” 
Rolling his eyes, he tugged you in closer, pressing his fingers deeper into your back muscles. “Because I can’t work out all the kinks from this angle. Plus, you deserve a lie down after I was inside you for so long. On both ends.” Amidst all of the light banter, you didn’t even pay attention to the fact that his little tattoo gift had long-since faded away.  “TouchĂ©, perv.” and like clockwork, you were easing yourself off of his lap and moving to lie flat on your stomach, already feeling his hands working like a masseuse to get out every single strain that he had put on your body. From your thighs and up, he made sure not to skip a single space, hopeful that with enough good aftercare that maybe you’d be up for a round two.
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A/N: Phew..! That’s kind of..all I can say for this, lol. This has been the winter season of writing for me and before I go back on an inevitable hiatus, I wanted to deliver to you what everyone has been sooo on edge about. The love and support for Sweetest Sin has been phenomenal and I’m excited to bring more..in due time. (The glasses got nuked like 3/4s in. Running on like 0 sleep. Sorry for the yap, enjoy the filth. Sincerely, your Loverboy.) @aseqan 💝
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loosenedinsanity · 2 days ago
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jayvik angst from my fic for you:
For a speech that was meant to welcome the students, Jayce was really tugging at these people’s heartstrings. Poor innocent puppets. Just like Viktor, they had been fooled into believing they actually meant something to him. But he wouldn’t know that, staring up at Jayce from the darkness of banner screens covering the backstage.
“You might call me the ‘man of progress’, but there’s always been someone behind me. These
 questions of science; science and progress,” Jayce professes, “they could never speak as loud as my heart.” The crowd visibly melts at his sentiment, cooing to their loved ones, friends and family, all these people that are so intertwined with each other, in one way or another, and Viktor feels more and more like the outcast he is.
So when Jayce shifts his posture, facing the backstage where Viktor hides in the folds of the curtains, watching him from the shadows, it’s only natural for his breath to hitch and his heart to start racing, right? Was Jayce
 talking about him?
“You’ve brought me so much light, outshining me at every turn. My guiding star through these troublesome times.” Jayce’s eyes flit over to Viktor, flash with some emotion he can’t recognize, and then flow straight past him.
In a moment of denial, Viktor follows his gaze to another figure hidden not too far from him, one he didn’t notice creep up behind him while he watched Jayce’s ostentatious performance to impress the future generations of Piltover. The children that would be handed their futures on silver platters. And pure gold sweeps past him, knocking him out of his thoughts.
"Mel," Jayce proclaims, admiration so evident in his eyes you could almost see it swirling like his thoughts to nothing as she seemingly floats to his side, brushing his arm with a playful touch as if they were the ones spending hours in the lab past office hours. "You are the true brilliance behind my success. Thank you for being my inspiration."
Vktor feels a cold emptiness settle in its place. He feels numb, the fragile hope that he had built up crumbling to dust. He wants to smack himself in the forehead; of course Jayce wasn’t talking about him. Of course it was Mel. he should’ve known. The whole thing just seems stupid to him now, worthy of a laugh over a drink.
A drink. That’s what he really needs. Something to wash away these lingering feelings, these thoughts because the contradicting evidence is right in front of him. Jayce gazes into Mel’s eyes with such love and affection that it makes Viktor sick. The pain in his chest becomes a sharp reminder of the distance between dreams and reality, what he can think he has but was never there in the first place.
What is so palpable between the sharp gilded slide of her eyes on his yeilding aureate soul, windows to his truth that were always locked for Viktor. Maybe he had fooled himself, once, into believing they were open enough for him to seek the canvas of a painting that only existed in his thoughts.
Only gold for the golden boy of Piltover, right?
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(p.s. did you catch the song reference?)
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acehazbin1 · 8 hours ago
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Okay hear me out on this for the one and Only Emperor Caracalla. If you like this one- I might get confident enough to send another request for Emperor Geta lol. I didn’t see a rules- sorry -so if this goes against any just ignore this message lol.
Okay so I’m thinking you could do a fic or two of Caracalla with a motherly reader. Whether they’re a maid, concubine, etc. They just adore him “my sweet boy” and such. Sorry if this sucked LOLOL
“Motherly love.”
I loved this request! Sadly I didn’t see it straight away, but it’s a great idea!!
Notes: sorry if this is horrible I was in a rush! Also about the other series I’m working on the 3rd chap just been a busy January!
Mother!Reader & Caracalla (not romantic)
Cybele= Roman god of motherhood


..
Emperor Caracalla was only nineteen when he took the throne alongside his twin brother, they were both immature and unfit to govern the Roman Empire. Yet somehow two years in Emperor Caracalla and Emperor Geta remained on the throne, sure Rome was starving and the wars were never over but he still held the power in his hands.
People thought he was ruthless, a real human being could never see the suffering on the streets and continue to throw banquets and parties. He must be a monster with a stone-cold heart
 yet in the palace, many workers knew the truth. One in particular knew nearly everything about him if anything minorly or majorly impacted his life she would be the first to know.
“Cybele, Cybele!” Caracalla called out into the open space that was the fountain. She was washing sheets in the fountain, it was her duty as an assistant nurse to wash the bedsheets of the care beds. “Emperor, I wished you reframe from calling me that. It is disrespectful to Cybele.”
Caracalla's eyes found her and he started to make his way over towards the fountain. “Ah, but you are the goddess herself to me.” Caracalla flashes his golden tooth with a grin. “I am not yet a mother.”
“By blood no, but by your actions, they say otherwise.” Caracalla twisted his head a bit, she nodded her head while reaching into the water and twisting the sheets around. “Why did you come down to the servant's area? Did you have something to say?”
“Oh yes.” Caracalla eyes light up, “I thought Dungdus a new trick!” Caracalla whistled for the monkey and she came flying down the stairs. Caracalla patted his shoulder and the monkey climbed up, he then stuck out his arm and Dundgus climbed out. The brown monkey hung upside down on his arm for a few seconds, before jumping off.
“Oh, that was delightful.” She made sure to clap and smile, and he highlighted her comments. “You think so?” He stepped closer, “yes of course.”
Caracalla grinned from ear to ear, he sat down on the side of the fountain letting Dungdus run around the servants’ area. “I can teach her more tricks if you like?” Caracalla mused, which made her shake her head. “Only teach her trick if you want to, you don’t need to impress me.”
Caracalla's eyes went away from her face and he fidgeted with his shelve. “I- I don’t want to impress you
” He didn’t want to admit it, she felt her heartstrings tug. She dropped the bedsheets she was holding and cupped his cheek with her palm. “Oh my sweet boy it’s okay.”
Her voice was like honey, it smoothed him while sick in the head. Many times her voice was one of comfort when he had to visit the nurse, she sat by his side whispering things of comfort to help him through his mental anguish.
He nuzzled into her palm, as he whispered, “Geta tired to embarrass me infront of the senate today.” He would normally complain about Geta, his mind would twist the things that Geta did to protect him into horrible acts of envy. “What did he say?” She asked.
“He said that he should be the one to look over the spending of the army, but we both agreed that would be my job.” Caracalla said with his voice laced in spite. “Your bother can-“ “and when a senator implied that I was useless he didn’t even stand up for me!” Caracalla cut her off with more angrily whispering.
She wave him a dry look, “Caracalla.”
“It’s so unfair-“ “Caracalla.” “he always does this!” “Caracalla.” “I know he’s going to-“ “CARACALLA.”
She raised her voice which made him wide eyed and tensed his shoulders. He was so caught off guard by her yelling, he was used to Geta or the crowd at a game yelling but a servant wasn’t supposed to yell at him. Specially not you.
“I’m sorry you interrupted me, we talked about this before.” The maid said and rubbed his cheek trying to ease him out of his shock. She didn’t mean to yell at him, just hated when he never listened to reason.
“You- you yelled at me
” Caracalla choked, his eyes watered a bit as the shock wore off. “Shsh, I’m sorry.” He pulled away from her hand, as she tried to move it closer. It wasn’t like him to move away from touch, “Caracalla please.”
Caracalla feet tapped the group, his eyes switched back from the fountain to the palace. His head was spinning, he tried to push himself off the little wall he was sitting on to keep the water in before her hand held his wrist. “Caracalla listen to me.”
“I did not mean to yell, you did not mean to interrupt me. It was a miss understanding.” She breathed out but he looked away from her eyes trying to figure out if he should believe her words. “I- I
”
She got up quickly allowing the basket to dump into the fountain. She would deal with that later, she pulled him so he was turn around. He looked a bit terrified by the fact he was dragged back to her but she wrapped her arms around him.
It took him a second, his eyes still wide and wet, his hair messed up and his palms were shaky but he melted into her grip. He nearly let his hold body fall, it was slightly scary for her to hold up his body weight but she was just glad that he forgave her.
“My sweet boy.” She held him tight, “I’m so sorry,”
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phosph-ate · 1 day ago
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Tether
Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader
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Rick is sent to collect someone from inside of seemingly haunted woods. He realizes he's bit off more than he can chew a little too late.
CW: violence, gun violence, swearing, canon divergence, no use of y/n
Word Count: 2k
A/N: they/them used for reader!! this veers away from the show. it is not set in it. it's just an idea i had and i want to run with it. it probably won't be too many parts/chapters. also, there is an oc in here, she is important to the story. just in case you have feelings about ocs! reader's abilities will be touched on more thoroughly next chapter! divider made by cafekitsune
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The woods were considered haunted. They had not always been that way. In fact, they used to be beautiful and lively. But now, a heavy fog and dark shadows shroud them. Not a peep could be heard from inside once in them.
“This can’t be normal.”
“No, Phosphorus,” Rick sighed, “it fucking can’t be normal.”
Bride, Nina, and Weasel stood a little behind Phosphorus, who was directly behind Rick. After what seemed like an hour of trekking through the heavily wooded area, they stumbled upon a cabin.
“This is it.” Nina chimed in from behind them. “This is what the hunter described.”
“You all wait back here,” Rick begins to walk towards the cabin. “I’ll handle this for now.”
Phosphorus groaned but stayed put. The only one seemingly not antsy was Weasel. He stood there, patiently. Or as patiently as he could.
Rick walked onto the porch. He immediately noticed spots of blood scattered on it. The wood creaked loudly; it was very noticeable considering how silent the area had been. Before he could even knock the door was swung open. Someone who could not be older than sixteen stood in front of Rick. She was chewing, no smacking, some gum.
“Who the fuck are you?” The teenager looked Rick up and down, staring at him with distaste.
“I was about to ask you the same question.”
The girl peeked over Rick’s shoulder and noticed the group a little way from the porch. She rolled her eyes. “Well,” She stepped to the side. “I guess you can come in.”
“Huh?” Phosphorus was loud and confused. “You’re going to let some monsters into your home.”
“Not my home.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we’ve been expecting you.”
“We?” Bride asked. “Where is the owner?”
“Resting.” The girl seemed too calm. Rick hummed a response. The girl walked back to the couch and picked up a controller and continued playing some old game. “Any of you want to play with me?” She motioned to another controller. “We’ve got plenty of games! Diddy Kong Racing, Mario 64, and Donkey Kong!” She was excited to share. “I’m positive I’d kick all of your asses simultaneously at any of the games
 But I’m not going to stop you from playing.”
Phosphorus looked down the hall. His head cocked to the side. “Where is the owner?” He sounded more assertive than Bride had earlier. “There is no way some kid is living out in these creepy woods by herself.”
“I said they’re resting.” The teenager snapped. “Now get your ass back in here. They don’t like people pokin’ around. I’d hate to see what would happen if they came out to you looking through their home.”
Phosphorus walked towards the steps and huffed. “We need to see them. Who are they? More importantly, who are you?” The doctor turned his head towards the girl.
“I’m Oli.” She gave her name quickly. “And I thought you knew who they were.” Oli mimicked Phosphorus’ huff. “Why else would you be here?”
“We’re here because people have been going missing in these woods. One man got away and was heavily traumatized.”
Oli went pale. “Not people.” She was short. She turned back to her game. She began to play again, and Phosphorus groaned.
“Look, kid!” He shouted. He started to walk towards Oli, and she froze. She went pale. A scream ripped from her throat, and she began to wail for something. For someone. A name Rick was not familiar with ripped through the air, straight from Oli’s lungs.
The house began to shift. The floor creaked and the lights flickered. The TV shut off and Oli fell off the couch and hit the floor, covering her face, still screaming.
“I’m not-” Phosphorus had no time to defend himself.
The wall behind the TV, closest to Oli, became covered in shadows. A black ooze dripped from the center of the wall. A loud crack, the crack of bones, came from the other side of the wall. Wind whipped outside and suddenly birds could be heard all around. The silence had been broken in the worst way possible.
Fingers creeped out from the wall, and then a hand was visible. It grabbed the wall, pulling whoever it belonged to out from the shadows. Bones continued to crack as whatever the fuck was coming from the shadows made its way into reality.
“What the fuck!?” Phosphorus screamed.
A distorted yell came from the person and once they dragged themselves from the shadows, they stood over Oli, protecting her. Their eyes were pitch black, no sclera, and their body cracked as they stood up straight.
“That must be the owner.” Nina said, eyes wide and full of shock.
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You had been trying your best to replenish your energy. To recover from the earlier visit. But when you felt Oli’s fear and heard her screaming you could no longer rest. You pulled yourself together long enough to crawl out from your hiding spot.
When you stood over her fearful form and looked up to see the exact people she said would be paying you a visit you groaned.
“Oli,” Your voice was distorted. You peeked down at her before looking back around the room, assessing the situation. “You’re okay.” Your voice slowly returned to something more normal. “Aren’t these the people who you said were coming?”
“Yes.” She sat up and looked up at you with a smile. “They wanted to meet you!” She grinned, proud of herself.
“Excuse me?” You scoffed at her, “You just did all of that for me to come out? You couldn’t just say ‘Hey! The people from the fucking prophecy are here!’ That would be just as effective, Olympia.”
Oli stood up. “Do not call me Olympia.” She gave you a nasty look. “You are not my-” She paused. She took in a deep breath and looked at the TV. “Anyway,” She turned it back on, “I gotta restart my game now. Because you turned the TV off when you showed up.” Her voice was low. “Go take care of whatever the fuck they need you for.”
You narrowed your eyes at Oli and turned back to the group of people in your home. “Sorry about, uh, earlier,” You gave them a nervous smile. Your eyes had returned to their normal color, “unless of course you came to kill me. Then I’m not sorry and you will not be leaving this property-”
“We are not here to kill you. My name is Rick, and we are investigating the missing people-”
You interrupted him. “Missing? They’re where they belong. Those men were fucking evil.” You rolled your eyes. “I try to keep this place unreachable. And yet, some people just cannot help themselves.” You glanced towards Oli. “Look, I’ll let you all go. I’ll make a path for you. It’ll be safe. I’ll even let a little sun come in, but I’m not going anywhere. We aren’t going anywhere.”
Rick ran a hand through his hair. “That hunter that escaped, was he
-”
“Oh!” You waved a hand around, “He was just a hunter. Happened to see a little too much, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.” You walked towards your front door and opened it. “I hate that I didn’t get to know all of your names, but
 goodbye!” You smiled widely at them and motioned for them to leave.
“No.” Rick stood his ground. “What the fuck are you two doing out here? You just have this kid out in the middle of nowhere, where are her parents?”
“Dead.” Oli looked back from the TV and at Rick. “My family is fucking dead.” She paused her game and stood up. “Did Waller not tell you that? Or did she not know?” Oli snapped. She walked past you and straight towards Rick.
“Who’s Waller?” You asked, while quickly placing yourself in the middle of her and Rick. “What are you not telling me, Oli?”
Rick looked down at Oli with the amount of confusion you seemed to be in. “We were not aware you were here. We were told to bring them,” he pointed to you, “in. That is the extent of our knowledge.”
Oli’s nails were digging into her palms. Something in her seemed to snap. “You are not doing that!” She snarled at Rick. You tried to calm her. “That is not- I didn’t see that! You’re supposed to help us!” She had tears in her eyes.
“Olympia!” You grabbed her face. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes glazed over, and her knees buckled. You were quick to grab her and hold her up and keep her from hitting the floor.
“What is happening?”
You looked up to see the obviously irradiated skeleton speaking. “She- She’s-” You did not get to finish your sentence. Oli sucked in air harshly, and her eyes widened. She looked at you in fear. You felt every ounce of her fear. Your stomach flipped.
“Oli,” your voice was soft, “What did you see?”
“Me-” She sucked down a sob, tears filling her eyes. “Dead.”
You sat at the kitchen table with Oli. You had insisted your visitors leave, she insisted on them staying. Because of that, you had learned who each of them was. Bride, Dr. Phosphorus, Nina, and your personal favorite: Weasel.
You grabbed water for Oli and sat down beside her. “It could be nothing.” You tried to reassure her, keep her calm.
“My visions are never ‘nothing’.” Oli sipped on her water. She sighed and looked past you and at the group of people in your home. “I haven’t been telling you everything
” She shut her eyes tight and gripped the glass in her hand. “The people who are coming to these woods, they aren’t coming for me. They’re coming for you.” She looked at you with a scared look.
“Well,” Dr. Phosphorus clapped his hands together and began to walk towards you, “we’d better get you out of here then!”
“I can’t leave her!” You snapped at him.
At the same time, Oli whispered “I can’t leave them.” She sounded defeated.
“Why?” Nina cocked her head. “Do you not have anyone else?”
You were growing frustrated. “No!” You pulled Oli into your arms and stood over her as she sat at the table. “Her family is gone! She was wanted for her abilities. I took her in and she’s safe with me-”
“I’m their tether.” Oli sounded distant. You froze, arms falling slightly, but not leaving her sides. You were shocked she would give that information away so freely. “If I die-” She stopped talking and closed her eyes tight.
“What is she talking about?” Rick swallowed hard. Things got a lot harder if what she was saying was true.
“I’m their tether,” She repeated. “You know how when a baby duck imprints on, like, a human?” She looked back at the group of monsters standing in your home.
“What does that have to do with this?” Bride crossed her arms.
“We found each other in times of need. And somehow, their need was much greater than mine. I’m keeping them sort of
 holding onto humanity.”
You were standing there silent. She was talking like you were not even there. So, you decided to speak up. “If she dies, I’ll feel it. And I’m afraid of what I will do.” You watched the group, face deadpan. “I’m not leaving here. We are both safe here.”
There was a heavy silence before Dr. Phosphorus spoke up. “That’s too fucking bad, we need you to come with us.”
You groaned. And then you felt it. Something was getting close to your cabin. Your hair stood on end, your head snapped towards the window behind you and walked towards it. Oli pouted, she knew what that meant by now. You tried to pinpoint where they were coming from. Your head began to pound.
“What are you do-”
The window shattered and a bullet flew through, hitting you straight in the forehead. You heard Oli scream. Her fear was palpable. She was at your side in a second. “There’s blood!” Oli wailed. “They can’t even bleed!” Her screams wrecked you. Everything went black.
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brionysea · 1 day ago
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#i'm never getting over Max being the only one defending Mike in early S3#even his best friends since childhood are fed up but she's still defending him and saying it's not that bad#max wants to be his friend so bad#and then.#she met El and got on a feminist side quest because she convinced herself he's actually a raging misogynist#i love them<3#they're so fucking stupid#sometimes you need that sidequest to become truly close friends and it's beautiful#also yes to the caption (I got sidetracked)#people need to stop putting words in Mike's mouth and just stay on his level#platonic madwheeler#mike wheeler#max mayfield
you get me @stranger-feathers. I also got distracted by max's feminist side quest in my tags before going 'no, stay on topic' and deleting them, but it's interesting, actually!
the only context s2 max had was how sad mike was (which these two have their own understanding of, while the rest of the group seems to struggle with knowing how to deal with them) and how it was because of el - survivor's guilt, the trauma from seeing a girl turn to dust in front of you to save you, whatever
that, combined with the wheelers home life being - while not like max's, Not Fun - is how mike ended up driving hopper nuts by hanging out in the cabin for 6 months straight. mike missing el + mike not wanting to be at home + mike feeling comfortable talking back to hopper the way he isn't with his parents + mike feeling the pressure to be in a romantic relationship with el but not knowing how to do that = mike and el making out for months on end and only rarely having a real conversation
el, as always, doesn't really have the context to know how things work and is just going along with it until max tells her she gets a say. when el was living with hopper, she missed mike so much it became a point of conflict (as a cover for el's lack of autonomy, which mike never really did to her; when el was living in mike's basement, she wandered around all the time, and in s3 mike was only repeating HOPPER'S words of el not being 'allowed' to go shopping; hopper recently locked mike in a car and went off on him, of course mike thinks max is insane for breaking his rules), so el would listen to mike more than hopper during a petty disagreement. mike treated her better; he never sold her out to brenner, for a start. even when el DID listen to hopper and stay hidden, she ended up hitchhiking to new york or wherever to go against his rules, because she didn't think breaking them made her stupid
so the set up is a whole lot of mike's feelings crashing together and influencing his actions. hopper, by virtue of mike's talent for being so annoying, forgets about that (despite the s2 scene where hopper saw mike's feelings finally explode, precluded by the two of them arguing over el) until hopper interacts with mike's parents at the end of s3 and sees that they have NO IDEA where their son is, in contrast to joyce freaking out trying to find the kids while hopper made fun of her. then the whole time the kids actually were in danger and joyce was right, as usual, which seems to make hopper chill out. max, who spent s2 trying to get mike to talk about his feelings so they could be friends, also seems to forget that he has any the second el gets involved
which, let me be clear: el definitely needed feminism. her friendship with max, which el initially refused because of jealousy over mike, was so needed. el keeps getting hidden away and controlled by men (brenner, mike, the boys, hopper); sometimes for her safety, sometimes that's just a thing they say while not realising or caring about how they're also suppressing her autonomy, and not questioning their patriarchal need to control women and girls, but in s3 that doesn't seem to be an issue anymore. because of the tone shift, it's not really addressed, but the best I can figure is that el's safety was no longer a problem because nancy burned down the lab and ran them out of hawkins (look at that! legitimate feminism! solidarity among girls - barb's justice - improving el's quality of life!!! I love it here)
I think mike, by virtue of living in a sexist society, WAS sexist. not to the extent that the fandom makes it out where he's the bane of all evil, but he was so caught up in the emotion and fear of losing el again that he wasn't questioning whether his need to keep el tucked away and safe from the world was fair to her until max raised the issue. before that, while mike was trying to be straight, he was kind of infected with the more blatant heterosexism, because that's 'normal' (think billy being such a ladies man that max knows what happy screams are, but also calling women 'cows' and 'bitches'; lucas and mike calling women 'a different species' is like Baby's First Dehumanization)
before that, when it actually seemed like an organic character flaw rather than mike conforming, you see it the most with max - 'this is the boys room' 'yeah, so?' 'so you should go home' comes to mind. max was probably making it a bigger issue than it is, the way mike's SHE'S CONSPIRING AGAINST ME comes across (she kind of was though lmao - like, sexism is definitely a real problem that max isn't making up and people taking that kind of challenge as a personal attack when it's not is really common, but max DID seem to be making Girls vs. Sexist Mike a whole thing), but it wasn't a baseless accusation. probably, max just can't stand up for herself when people are sexist towards her and was using el as a buffer. in s2 max only asked lucas if they weren't including her because she's a girl, even though mike was the one to make the weird boys room comment and max argued with him about other stuff 2 seconds later, and she didn't do more than roll her eyes at billy
remember how mike mouthed off to hopper because he can't mouth off to his parents? max does the same thing to mike because she can't with billy. hopper and mike are emotionally and physically safe to engage with, and the show spending a lot of time trying to convince you otherwise (hopper is legitimately scary at times, like when he threw the door of el's room open thinking mike was in there again but it was really MAX, the girl with a violent home life, which must include things like violently slamming doors open as a precursor to more direct violence) without anything actually HAPPENING proves it. they're not safe because they were born with no moral impurities, they're safe because they put the active effort in to be safe. they could be just like everyone else, which s3 puts a lot of emphasis on, but they ultimately choose not to be. nobody is born a feminist. women tend to get there faster because we're directly harmed by misogyny, but after their argument, both mike and max do listen to each other. mike apologises to el for acting so controlling and jealous, and max works with mike to protect el (from flayed!billy) in starcourt
mike could so easily be Not Our Mike. his family has money and a nice house, unlike will. mike has white privilege and never has to deal with racism, unlike lucas. mike doesn't have a visible disability like dustin. he's not a girl like max and el. mike could EASILY slide under the radar as that wheeler kid with the big house without having to deal with any of this, but he feels more at home with the outcasts of society instead. the mike we initially meet is so lovable because he'd been choosing to be true to himself rather than taking the easy route for years. or in mike's words, I guess, asking will to be his friend was the best thing he's ever done
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max defending mike and choosing the words he uses to defends himself with is actually something that can be so personal
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egg-emperor · 2 days ago
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tbh i am soooo upset they let the mispronounciation of ivo into the MOVIE. like enough people were like "yeah thats how you say it" to let it through. or maybe they were too afraid to correct jim carrey lol
either way it SUUUUCKS cause now that's how everyone thinks it's pronounced ;o;
God I am too, I'm way too autistic and precise about this to just let it slide, it bothers me so much because it's factually wrong lol. It does suck that they're telling millions of people that this is how his name is pronounced. It's not the first time official media has messed it up but it's basically the new biggest case of it happening and it's definitely going to have a huge impact
It's not meant to be a matter of how you prefer to pronounce it, it very literally isn't what was intended. The very guy who decided to name him Ivo (ee-vo) Robotnik in the first place, Dean Sitton, said he chose it because it sounds like "evil". Calling him "eye-vo" defeats the clever purpose of the name with how cool it is to sound like he's called "Dr. Evil "Eggman" Robotnik
I'm going to make another video/post showing all the proof it was to be pronounced "ee-vo" from the second it was chosen for him, that it was strongly specified and emphasized with putting "Ivo (ee-vo)" in brackets after his name in official documents, and he has actually been called it correctly as ee-vo in official media too. Because I have even more now and the fandom needs the reminder more than ever
But for now I will include this one as one of the new additions that someone recently pointed out to me because it's especially relevant. I had never seen this before because I'm not classed a movie fan really and I was astonished by this
They have said it right in the context of the movies in this official promo video thing
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They have used ee-vo within the movie universe too, so it can't even be argued that eye-vo was just the only real and correct way for this specific iteration!
It's wild how they managed to make the entire third movie calling him eye-vo without anyone pointing it out and fixing it because it's just straight up incorrect. It's like how English TailsTube got it wrong but Japanese TailsTube got it right and it's been said incorrectly almost an equal amount of times to correctly, so I'm not surprised it can be said wrong in official media
But it happening in something as large scale as the movies? I just don't understand how they let this happen unless they deliberately wanted to be wrong but I'm so unhappy that it has more than erased all my attempts to correct people over the years lol. It shouldn't still be happening with stuff on the western side because Sega of America's chief brand officer is literally named Ivo too
Anyway his name is ee-vo and anyone who sees Ivo written for him and always reads it in their mind and says it as ee-vo are real ones
I'm gonna put my old video here just so we can hear him say it right and feel better lol
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But it's gonna be remade hopefully soon to add quotes from Dean Sitton himself, the Sonic Bible draft that states (ee-vo) in brackets, Japanese TailsTube pronouncing it correctly, and that movie promo doing the same too as more all official instances, since in this video the first clip is official and the second isn't
It being said incorrectly in Eng TailsTube recently too worries me because I really don't want them to accidentally say it wrong in a game or we're really fucked but I want to have faith that the flub wouldn't make it into the games despite this because Sonic Team are much more careful about what they do with their own series and since JP TailsTube got it right it's 50/50 rn XD
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you-cant-fuck-megaman · 3 days ago
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friend got me the Battle Network Legacy Collection
Battle Network isn't my favorite series in the franchise, but I like it quite a lot and so it's been a lot of fun zipping through the games again and one of the biggest things i like about it are the redesigned takes on existing Robot Masters, particularly the way they get split into two components: a human avatar and a network avatar. a humansona and a netsona. a persona and a fursona, if you will.
one of my favorite things about shounen anime is that everyone has a fucking Gimmick. nobody just casually likes baseball--they also have to wear jerseys everywhere, scream all hot-blooded about the necessity of teamwork, eat dinner off of the home plate, and sleep with their bat on a pillow stuffed with balls. some people will say this is unrealistic, but those people have clearly never talked to a Pokémon fan. plus, y'know, that's what most kids and teenagers do: they find something cool and feel the need to bring it up at every opportunity, because they're growing and want approval for their burgeoning interests. meanwhile, i fucking love it when people are passionate about their interests and make it their entire personality.
so in my opinion, the best Battle Network designs are ones that lean into this and are complimentary on both the NetOp side and the NetNavi side, both of them coalescing around a singular Gimmick and leaning into it with the subtlety of a hammer. Dex and GutsMan.EXE are great because Dex is all in on "guts" as a concept, acting primarily with his heart and charging straight through, representing both an overwhelming emphasis on strength and his misplaced confidence in sheer machismo. Count Zap is basically the best fucking character in existence, both as a compliment to ElecMan.EXE and as a standalone villain, and the anime only made him even better.
there's the stinkers, of course. Speedy Dave is a complete nothingburger of a character, to the point where both the games, anime, and manga have completely different takes on him that head up in entirely separate directions, and with QuickMan.EXE having absolutely no relation to any of them. both Mayl and Roll.EXE suffer from needing to be The Girl for their dedicated character gimmick, as written by people who think that Being A Girl is enough of a personality trait to write about this year. WHEW. time to take the season off.
but there's always going to be stinkers. that's kind of the downfall with any long-running series that A: needs to consistently put out Moar Content and B: focus on character designs first and foremost and fleshing them out second. they're showcases to get you to engage with the gameplay, and then the manga/anime have to pick up the slack after the fact. it's like being handed a glass cylinder and then being told "make this useful"--there's only so much shit an anime can do with a glass cylinder, and they sure as fuck aren't going to make it a dildo.
i keep dropping the anime, i really should continue it and see it through further. it's not awful, just a very generic shounen most of the time; i keep wanting it to be unnecessarily overdramatic like the BN manga or completely fucking unhinged like Ruby Spears Megaman, and it really isn't that
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c1trvswurld · 19 days ago
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Being bigender or just multigender period is so funny because both in queer and non queer spaces you are ostracized. Your womanhood only recognized when someone wants to be infantilizing and demeaning, wants to put you on a pedestal for different selfish reasons. Your manhood only recognized when someone wants to demonize and push you out of queer spaces, make you a threat that has to be squashed.
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mintmatcha · 10 hours ago
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Tai finally answers on the sixth call.
"Hello?" You can hear the buzz of the market behind him as he pants into the receiver. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Where are you?" You can't help but laugh as you stare around the crowd. Your Tai is tall enough that he should be a head above the crowd, but you can't seem to spot him. Maybe he's ducked into a stall, or an alleyway.
"I'm not home right now." He's speaks so gently that you can barely hear him. Is he trying to hide his conversation from someone?
"I know you aren't," you hum. "You're at the market-- come find me."
You're not a blood hound, but your nose is good enough that you can pick out your favorite people in a crowd. Tai always smells like clementines and cracked black pepper, even when he lies.
"I'm not at the market."
And he is lying.
"Yes, you are." The scent gets stronger as you dip deeper into the crowd. It gets muddled between the food and the bodies, but you know it so intimately at this point that you can weave closer and closer- "I can smell you."
Heroes are patrolling, walking straight through the crowd without a care in the world. You barely miss walking into one in your excitement. No, you're too busy scanning the horizon, looking for that familiar, skinny little face-
"And I think you're at the takoyaki stall that you always talk about," you say. "Let's have a meal."
He breathes out and it makes the line crackle.
"I had a rough night last night and I wanna feel like a real girl for a bit," it feels a bit fragile to admit, but that's what's special about him. There's a realness between you, an understanding-
"You're pretty bruised up."
You whip around and scan the horizon again, to no avail.
"You should call me when that stuff happens," he says, still under his breath.
"Aw, is my boxer gonna beat them up for me?" You press on to your toes and still don't spot anything. The only tall guy you see is that stupid hero, with his little sidekicks hanging to his side. "I still can't see you, Tai."
Just before you turn away, you swear that hero looks directly at you.
WAAAAIITT CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT SW!READER AND FATGUM A LITTLE MOREđŸ„ș im eating these up wow but her quirk is so interesting!
Since she knows all the heroes in the area— I’m thinking there’s like a day where she somehow runs into Fatgum on the clock, whether that is passing by or maybe she had a run in with one of those people she owns money to and he helps her out but when she catches his scent, everything just clicks? I can imagine she’s memorized his scent by now with how many times they’ve spent togetherđŸ„ș
I think its a rare night off for her.
a client had been too rough with her, bruised her face too much to cover under make up. can't work if the clients aren't willing to fuck you, so the boss let her off, just until the healer could come by.
so she spends the night walking through the food market her boxer recommended, trying the foods he mentioned.
she catches his scent halfway through the night. She shouldn't let him see her like this, but the temptation to see him in real life, in real clothes-
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seddair · 3 months ago
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bitegore · 3 months ago
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baru cormorant seems to me to be a series that suffers miserably for me having read machineries of empire first. unfortunately everything BC is doing strikes me as something MoE did better and more believably and with much a greater and more grounded eye for how systems, complex system interaction, and oppression like. work
#red rambles#also i don't like the writing very much so I'm not having as much fun with it as i did with MoE#but YHL straight up writes with the exact approach and methodology *i* write - the narrative frame is extremely close. the lines are punchy#the description is sparse the info we are delivered is typically in short wacky one-off chunks that tell us not only something about the#world but something about the narrator who is also the main character whose head we're in#the timing. so on and so forth#someone told me that seth dickinson is transfem but i cant find her (?) pronouns anywhere so if anyone knows where to see them i'd#appreciate a link if only to complain that i don't like her (?) writing that much in comparison because it is a lot less.... rewardingly#entertaining i suppose. when compared to the way yoon ha lee structures his. there are much fewer twists#and of course the major huge twist of Baru Cormorant was hidden from the reader which i just think is *bad form* when it comes to intrigue!#when yhl will lay all the moving pieces of the plot before you openly and say 'hey. isn't that a funny side tangent. anyway look to your#left; something is exploding' and then as it keeps unfolding he goes 'and here in small scale is how it is being used! isn't that#interesting to see how these pieces move? now look to your right; something is exploding' and then at the very end it all comes perfectly#together#the way i felt around the middle/end of Raven Strategem when i understood the spy network the first time is something that BC cannot do#you aren't trusted with the pieces and you don't get to play the game of understanding that you weren't *told* literally everything#i'm reading monster baru cormorant today as i go about my errands and I kinda don't think it's what i want because i want it to be the kind#of working awful poisoned bloodstained empire as the hexarchate and i want it to be a complex contradictory overlapping system like the#hexarchate's army and i want the banal cruelty of perfectly decent people condemning strangers to awful awful bloody deaths because they're#'not like us' instead of the petrified horror *everyone* has of the Social Contagion Agents because i just do not BUY the construction of#dickinson's Social Hygiene Offices and their place in the world#but i cant just read the MoE books any more. i'll get bored. i'm already kind of bored of reading them over and over
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ofseptarsis · 2 days ago
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The pause is brief, but within it TĂłfi can almost see a lifetime flow through it: the idea they've presented is a seedling and Menodora's mind is, as it has always been, black earth -it takes hold of what has been planted there and nourishes until it blooms into forbidden fruit.
They can see a smidge of reluctance at first, as if her mind was fighting back the intrusion, followed by a moment of silent acceptance.
After all, wouldn't it be terribly silly to think that, after all this years of knowing the other, one of them had genuinely willfully ignored that the other was perfectly capable of doing such a thing as feeling?
Mjaumen's ability to try and find ways to separate themselves from Monsters is, if anything, amusing.
De-humanizing your foe had never been so literal.
It's almost funny.
There might be something rational to it, there might be an interesting argument to be had about their brains being so intrinsically different that the range of feelings from one may completely differ from the other's -that their lizard brain, for one evolutionary reason or another, simply leaned more towards the pragmatic than the emotional, for the latter was rarely a useful tool survival-wise.
But...
Something flashes on her eyes and, for a moment, TĂłfi wonders what she'll say next. But nothing really comes.
Amusingly, they find themselves more amused than hurt offended; This is merely an unfortunate consequence of actions, of decisions, taken a long time ago -maybe by a Perhonen wanting to steady her people's resolve as they marched to battle, maybe by Seth himself wanting to make the enemy think of his people as totally invulnerable.
Maybe both scenarios are true.
Old beliefs die hard, and if Menodora, even after all that happened had genuinely not questioned them, then-
"Hvad kan du overhovedet elske, TĂłfi?" she asks with a smile, as if her humour has suddenly returned.
TĂłfi vaguely remembers a morbid phrase they'd heard at one point or another, something about raising crows and said crows eventually gouging one's eyes out.
Diamonds has always been a cheeky one.
"Power, money, respect... the works" they say, their lies adorned with a smile.
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Thought of crows gouging one's eyes out, of frogs and scorpions, of Humans and Monsters haunt TĂłfi's mind, ironically making their mood somber up as Menodora's seem to improve.
It's probably because they are being uncharacteristically open, giving her something to ponder about while exposing a part of themselves that does not do them any favours, probably because the relative well-being of one requires the other being uncomfortable one way or the other.
For one to win, the other has to lose.
For Moon's smile to return if only for a brief moment, TĂłfi must admit to things that have been unspoken -it's a bizarre price to pay.
She then asks about what their relationship would be, if things were slightly different, if only things were easier.
It's a simple answer.
"If things were any different it would not be quite us"
This time, in an interesting deconstruction of their usual roles, Menodora is the one who has the answers yet refuses to voice them straight away in favour of letting the other try and figure out things themselves; She knows what things could be like, for she has seen, lived them through the very same dreams that torment her.
Maybe that is part of the problem.
"The most important journey right now is, indeed, the one to bed" they reply, trying to keep a deadpan expression even if Moon's playfulness makes it quite difficult "and once there I may just sit by the side of the bed and make you fall asleep while I wax poetic about whatever philosophical topic may come to mind, if you really want me to guide you through that too, Diamonds"
The remaining journey to the main bedroom is short, and yet they find themselves looking at her, making sure she is able to make it even if it means having to power through.
Her energy has always come in bursts, or so TĂłfi thinks: sure, she might have been able to run across the fields for hours on end, once upon a time, but more recent memories of her really using her energy make them think more of explosions than steady flows.
That dark spell had been a sudden burst of energy, the incident some minutes ago had been a burst of both energy and emotion.
They can only hope there is still something left after that.
"Are you sure you can make it, Moon?"
@menodoramoon
genfĂždte sandheder || TĂłfi & Moon
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casiavium · 1 year ago
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inbabylontheywept · 5 months ago
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
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