#so my self control is waning by the minute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suzdin · 1 month ago

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Two for One: Part Five

Neighbor!Dave York x Human!Max Phillips x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, ANGST!, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, family death, invasions of privacy, breaking and entering, mentions of murder/violence, oral (f receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Max, threesome, anal, vaginal, breath play, alcohol and nicotine consumption, double penetration, anal creampie, dirty talk, I think that’s it

Words: 6,375 (sorry it’s short)

Notes: holy shit I don’t even know what to say other than I’m very grateful and touched by how many of you have reached out to me, and that I’m so so so sorry it took me this long to add a new chapter. Hopefully it’s worth the wait. I’m hoping to be more regular in the future! I did my best to remember who to tag, yell at me in the comments if I forgot you 🥴

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You aren’t sure why, but with Dave gone, it feels wrong to see Max. At least, outside of your workplace...

Were it the other way around, you don’t think you would experience the same level of cloying guilt you feel with Dave, but then again, your relationship with Dave was far different than what you had with Max: while you kept Dave at arm’s length, with Max, you kept him even further than that, a begrudging admission of your lack of self control, something that you hate to admit runs in your family. You with your alcoholism and overactive sex drive; Garrett with his addiction to narcotics. Your mother’s former addictions to the same things as you and your brother, at one point or another, waxing and waning for decades as long as you can feasibly remember.

You can’t help but smirk to yourself as you imagine scientists studying your family like captive apes, which isn’t too far off. They would probably learn a thing or two about addiction. Not that your mother believes in science enough to volunteer for such things.

So, that is how things go for those few days that Dave is out of town. Max respects your need for space, surprisingly so, affording you little more than a few minutes in the bathroom each day you’re both in the coffee shop at the same time, ending in either a belly full of Max’s cum, his fingers buried deep in your pussy until you see stars, or both.

And he still insists on ending every interaction with those strangely intimate and delicate embraces, each encounter getting longer and softer with each passing day. Almost like Max wants to be close to you, but isn’t sure how else to go about it, only knowing that it’s something he needs—no, craves.

You won’t lie, you had started looking forward to those hugs too, needing them more than you’d realized. He never kisses you, though, no matter how long he holds you in his arms afterwards, something that leaves an oddly empty pit twisting inside of you that you can’t find yourself able to shake.

Your coworkers definitely know about your little bathroom receptions, thankfully looking the other way when Max comes strolling in like Don Juan in his pursuit of you. Even, much to your surprise, Audrey, whom you often found shooting dirty looks your way when she thinks you’re unawares, but has sense enough to keep her mouth shut. At least in front of you.

You played it cool around your boss, Maurizio, who seemed to be none the wiser, Max often chatting him up as a distraction when you had to straighten your clothes or smooth down your hair or make sure you didn’t have any remnants of jizz lingering on you. Sweet talking was definitely one of Max’s strong suits and Maury ate that shit right up.

Your nights after your shifts ended with you and Dave on the phone, talking — or doing other things — for hours on end, and you had to admit that his voice in your ear at the end of a long day was a welcome gift and distraction.

You asked about each other’s days; you lamenting about the stressors of your job, even divulging the part about the shipment of mocha syrup being two weeks late and how you’re down to only two bottles, and that you’re pretty sure Audrey and Vincent hate you, but leave out any bits about Max being the reason.

He tells you all about the day to day activities with his girls, everything from the inevitable meltdowns, to what they did and where they went, even letting you talk to his eldest — Molly — for a few moments when she insisted on knowing who her dad was talking to if it wasn’t Mommy, and although it felt awkward and forced it was still very sweet and amiable, leading you to wonder if this was all leading to something bigger between you and Dave… although you’d known each other only a very short time, it was suddenly feeling very real.

Did you want that?

You didn’t know, and not knowing scared you. That’s why, you realized, you hadn’t completely pushed Max away, in case things went awry. And they often did in your case, leaving behind a flaming trail of gnarled and smoldering wreckage in its wake.

And maybe you were starting to like Max, too. Just a little. As much as you tried to deny it.

At the very least, you could admit you looked forward to his daily visits more and more as the days slogged on, which was saying a lot.

As the upcoming week drew ever nearer, Dave’s communication dwindled and subsequently ran dry, which had you a bit worried. He had texted you about some vague work thing he had to do. You didn’t ask what it was, since it was none of your business.

Yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from worrying when the messages slowed and eventually stopped. Had you done or said something offputting?

You do your best not to linger in your own head for too long, keeping yourself busy with mundanities.

——

Dave was careful not to stay in touch with you unless absolutely necessary while he was actively on target. Whatever he could do to prevent you from being tied to the crime, even if only via digital footprint. Not to mention to keep himself from being tied to it, in whatever way possible.

He had left the crime scene with the intent to drive through the night without stopping until he reached Boston. His mind had not diverted from the original plan; however, with his dick painfully engorged and straining against his pants every step of the way, your face at the forefront of his mind, he found himself having to stop more than once to relieve the ache. You made him feel crazy. Crazier than he’s ever felt before. And he simultaneously loved and hated it.

With your videos playing on a loop, seat reclined back as far as it could go, he spills across his stomach again and again as he grunts your name through clenched teeth, hot spend collecting in the hollow of his navel.

Sunrise is approaching and he still has a couple of hours to go before he reaches you. He can’t wait to be with you. He can’t…

——

As you force yourself to drag ass into another long, miserable shift at work, barely conscious, your hair a rat’s nest, Dave is having to force himself not to be lead-footed all the way home. Being pulled over by a cop is the last thing he needs right now.

He texts you around 7AM, asking if you’re working and how you’re doing, although he already knows you’re not home, from the camera loop he periodically checks. He has to ask, though, to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You feel a wave of relief when you see Dave’s name pop up on your phone. But with a storm bearing down hard on the city (what your mother affectionately and irritatingly refers to as ‘tornado weather’), business unexpectedly picks up and you’re too slammed with soaked and pissy customers to respond in a timely manner.

You’re even too busy for Max when he comes in, passing him an apologetic glance right before your hands slip and you splash blistering hot coffee down the front of your shirt. Behind the dejected, puppy dog eyes he’s giving you, you almost think you see concern flash in those dark brown irises of his.

Not like that’s possible. Right?

—

It takes Dave longer than anticipated to make it back to Boston. Between the instances he had to pull off to relieve the strain in his pants, and subsequently take a power nap, he hits the city a little past 9, and by the time he makes it through the infuriating drag of traffic and rain, he pulls into his spot close to 10.

He draws in a deep breath as he stares up at your apartment window, dark now, pulling himself out of the driver’s seat, barely having enough energy to make it through the downpour and up the stairs to his apartment.

But as soon as he deposits his bag on the living room floor, he’s inexplicably hit with a second wind, adrenaline coursing through his veins when it occurs to him how close he is to you once again.

He hastily stuffs his lock picking kit down his pants, grabbing a rain slicker from the closet, despite already being drenched to the skin.

He knows you aren’t home. He’s confirmed and re-confirmed it. But needs to be in your space. Just long enough to smell you again, be with you without being with you until you can officially be in his arms again. He wants to lie on your bed, wrapped in your scent like a cloak as he dribbles down his fist, surprising you later by picking you up from work so you don’t have to walk home in the rain.

Which reminds him — he texts you again, asking when you get off, hoping that you’re just busy and not ignoring him.

He makes it inside your apartment in record time, the old wood of the interior crackling from the pressure disturbance, almost as if beckoning him inside.

He locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes, glancing around the small, dark space, which smells of stale cigarettes and… you.

He only needs a couple of hours. That’s all. Just long enough to hold him over until he can see you, smell you for real, touch you. Fuck you until your eyes roll back into your skull and you see stars.

He strips off his dripping clothes and drapes them over the back of your kitchen chairs to dry, at least somewhat, crawling into your bed and pulling the comforter up past his shoulders.

He presses his face to mattress, inhaling deeply, immediately growing hard from your lingering scent. Your coconut shampoo, your vanilla body spray. You.

As he slips his cock free from his boxers, he can almost feel your curves against his fingertips, the softness of your lips against his.

He begins to pump himself slowly, knowing he risked it all for you. Just so that sad fuck you call an ex can’t harass you anymore, his cock tightening further as he recalls the way Jonathan looked when the life drained from behind his eyes.

He did it for you, and he would do it a million times more if he could.

—

Your work day finally begins to slow after the lunch rush, the rain slacking off to a more tolerable, humid drizzle.

You let the others know that you’re retiring to the alley for a much needed cigarette break, and to not bother you for fifteen minutes unless it’s a life and death emergency. And even then, still don’t.

You already have a cigarette perched between your lips and a lighter clutched in your fist before you even hit the alleyway, thankful for the small awning even with the calmer precipitation.

You ignite the cig, pocketing your lighter as you take a seat on the milk crate you use as a stool, drawing in a long, much needed puff of smoke and toxins into your lungs. Fuck, it’s been a day.

You fish your phone out of your pocket so you can shoot Max a quick apology for not being able to see him earlier, immediately becoming distracted by the sheer volume of text messages you’ve missed since the start of your shift, Max momentarily forgotten.

Two of the messages are from Dave, which you’re relieved to see and respond to right away. One is from an employee letting you know they’re going to be half an hour late to their shift, which you ignore for the time being, not wanting to deal with it just yet. And the other eight are from your mom.

You sigh, taking another drag from your cigarette as you begrudgingly click on her name, anticipating the usual slew of bitching and moaning, reminding you what a terrible, awful daughter you are for abandoning your family; or, on the other end of the spectrum, kissing your ass and pleading for money.

As soon as your eyes scan over the messages, your world is swiftly rocked off its axis, your fingers losing their strength as your hands begin to tremor.

Your phone and cigarette crash to the ground, the former cracking as it hits the concrete, the latter snuffing itself out in the little bit of rain that’s left.

You wedge the heel of your palms against your eyelids and begin to weep, but you can still see the words behind your eyes, already haunting you, wishing you could scratch them out of your brain, wishing you could turn back time like it never happened.

Your grandmother, the only bit of glue that ever held you to your family, is gone.

—

Sarah comes in on her day off to cover the rest of your shift so you can leave early, thanking her profusely with promises to make it up to her as soon as you can.

You let Maury know you’re going to take a few days for bereavement, and he doesn’t give you any shit about it.

You walk home in a milky daze, finding your way by muscle memory alone, because you’re pretty sure you aren’t actually perceiving anything but a whirlwind of grief; grief so intense you can feel it in your bones, your bone marrow.

Your grandma—Granny Ruth—was the kindest, most selfless woman you’d ever had the privilege of knowing. You never could figure out how your mother turned out the way she did; how they were not only different, but polar fucking opposites.

You keep reading and re-reading your mother’s texts. How, in addition to your sorrow and angst, you’re also unfathomably angry.

Mom: your grandmother Ruth passed this morning

Mom: shame you weren’t here to say goodbye since you abandoned us

Mom: don’t bother coming home, she is being cremated no service

You need a stiff drink. Several, in fact. You need drugs. Every single one.

You need to get fucked until you’re completely desiccated. You need to strangle every last shred of emotion from your body because it’s too much to carry right now.

You wish you had a kill switch for your brain.

—

By the time you’ve reached the stoop that leads up to your building, you can’t keep it in any longer.

You managed to hold the fraying threads of your sanity together when you had to call Sarah in. And when you had to let Maury know. Even on the walk home, you were a zombie. Mindless. Numb.

But now, as you draw nearer to your home—or what you call home, but doesn’t really feel that way— your legs grow weak and your head swims, forcing you to collapse on the steps that lead up to the double doors, hunched forward, sobbing into your hands.

You aren’t sure how long you stay there, or if anyone sees you, and you really don’t care.

You stay until your head is throbbing, only snapping out of your daze when a familiar voice cuts through the sorrow, hushed, concerned, your name a murmur on their lips.

“Doll… are you okay?”

When you finally lift your head, your gaze settles on Max.

—

You tell Max about your grandmother. How she had been sick for years, how you should have never left her, the guilt and regret gnawing at you. You had been selfish, stupid.

He sits beside you on the steps, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, letting you cry, letting you lament about how much you hate your mother, only speaking when he needs to.

He’s being sweet, sympathetic, patient, and completely unlike his usual self. And you’re intuitive enough to know he isn’t bullshitting or just trying to get into your pants. He’s actually being sincere.

It’s so unlike him it almost unsettles you.

You aren’t complaining, though. It’s nice in how unexpected, how off-kilter it seems, and it does make you feel better, at least for a few fleeting moments.

As the conversation carries on and your mood lifts a peg or two, Max’s gentle, sympathetic touches gradually turn more reverent, more wanton, his movements slow and unsure at first to test the waters, wanting to ensure that you want it as much as he does.

When you reciprocate, your eyes re-affirming your needs to him, he grows more insistent, more brazen, cupping your breasts through your polo, coffee stains and all, canine teeth scraping along your pulse point.

He’s being more tender and sensual than you’re used to, and while you don’t mind it, you prefer Max’s usual persona and would much rather be railed so hard you forget your own name.

He pulls away long enough for you to punch in your password on the keypad, flinging the twin doors open and making a beeline for the elevator with Max trailing at your heels like an infatuated puppy.

His touches become more persistent and demanding the closer you get to your apartment, his true colors finally bleeding through. By the time you’re fumbling your keys to unlock the door, he’s practically dry humping you, hands on your hips, half hard already.

After a brief and minor struggle with your lock, your hands tremoring again, you eventually shoulder the door open, stumbling inside with Max immediately following suit.

The cool dark of your space welcomes you as you shut the door harder than intended, Max’s hands returning to your hips.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifts, and there’s movement from your bed.

—

You scream, your hands losing their strength for the second time today, keys and purse crashing to the floor as Max positions himself between you and the intruder.

Without thinking, you instinctively reach for the switch next to your head, the resulting flood of luminescence rendering everyone temporarily blind.

When your vision eventually returns, and you see who’s standing before you, you’re almost unable to fathom what the fuck is even going on.

“Dave? How the f- what are you… what the fuck?” you manage to prattle out, in spite of your inability to otherwise form a cohesive thought.

Dave could kick himself for being so careless, so sloppy. He was more clear cut than that. He should have known better.

His eyes flick to Max, his face neutral as he assesses the situation before speaking, taking a tentative step in your direction.

He’s in nothing but black boxers, one side of his hair flattened, his eyes weary and heavy with lingering traces of sleep.

He says your name, studying your face. He can tell you’ve been crying, and he wants to break whoever did this to you, rip them apart at the seams until there’s nothing left to identify a body.

He isn’t dense and can see that Max isn’t the source of your distress, clearing his throat subtly, whispering your name again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low, his need to touch you, kiss you, bordering on physical pain. But he doesn’t want to startle or upset you, your eyes as large as dinner plates.

As Dave creeps another step forward, Max shoulders up to him, practically bristling like a dog over a prized bone.

“Maybe you should answer her question, Dave.”

“Max—“ you warn, Max pivoting to meet your gaze, taking a single step back only because of you.

Dave passes him a glance, and for a brief, but satisfying moment, he imagines himself decking Max square in the jaw. He knows he could take the pretentious prick down in a single blow, he’s certain of it. But as much as he wants to do just that, he refrains.

He’s aware that acting on his instincts would disrupt your already fragile state. And as much as he hates to admit it, he understands why Max is acting the way he is. He would behave the same, were the roles reversed.

He draws in a deep breath before responding.

“I wanted to see you. You weren’t home… your door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I wanted to surprise you. But I must have drifted off...”

He pauses, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, giving you a moment to absorb everything.

“I’m sorry. I was exhausted, not thinking straight. I… I fucked up.”

You can’t help but notice Max is uncharacteristically quiet as Dave explains himself, hands on his hips, ready to jump in at any moment if needed. But like Dave, he doesn’t want to do anything to upset you.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, if I can. I-“ He takes another step, his hand reaching for your arm. “I missed you.”

You see a muscle in Max’s jaw jump when Dave touches you, and as much as you want to shove him away, scream at him, tell him to fuck right off for breaking into your apartment… locked or not… you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’ve been angry enough for one day and you’re too mentally drained to care right now.

More tears fall in lieu of your anger, and you almost can’t believe you still have any left to cry.

Dave closes the distance, Max immediately flinching, itching to pick a fight but holding back. Dave doesn’t seem to notice or care, his focus honed solely on you, cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging over your cheekbone, catching any stray tears.

They’re behaving surprisingly well, given the circumstances, you have to give them that.

And although Max knew about you and Dave, you’re shocked to realize Dave knows about you and Max. But it’s too much information to dwell on right now, your head a foggy mess, so you don’t.

“My grandma died,” you croak.

—

The first hour is awkward, uncomfortable, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Dave and Max are getting along but only just barely, both of them vying for your attention to the point of additional stress, wanting to do whatever they can to make you feel better.

None of it feels real. Everything feels dark and hazy, a fever dream.

You’re sandwiched between both men on your tiny couch, watching something on Discovery none of you give two shits about, passing a bottle of vodka around to add to your mixer of choice as you sit in otherwise oppressive, stifling silence.

Their hands are all over you, competing for your affections, probably wishing you would kick the other one out, and you consider more than once to kick both out to let you wallow in your sorrow in peace.

But the drunker you get, the less you care. The drunker they get, the less they care about the other touching you, as long as they do get to touch you in some way or another.

As their touches grow bolder, you sense something unspoken pass between them, their caresses gradually transitioning to fondling, their hands moving over your curves, groping your breasts, teasing your folds through your thin leggings.

Of course there are a few moments where they bristle and bicker, quarreling over who gets to touch you where, but for the most part, they cooperate, working your body in tandem.

Your head falls back, your neck folded over the back of the couch as Dave’s fingers slip under the band of your leggings, his lips finding your neck.

“So wet already,” he murmurs against your pebbled flesh, his fingers feather light touches against your skin, teasing. “You like the way we’re touching you, baby?”

Max’s lips are on the opposite side of your neck, nibbling and kissing from your jaw to your clavicle, his hand sliding under your shirt, pushing your bra aside to pluck at your puckered nipple.

You can only moan in response, so fucking horny you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“I think she does,” Max replies with a crooked smirk, locking eyes with Dave as he slips your polo over your head, his head dipping to suckle at your exposed breast.

Dave pushes two fingers past your entrance, languidly pumping them as he anchors his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to twitch and sputter.

“So fucking pretty for us,” Dave purrs against your neck, pushing your leggings down to your knees, “Dirty fucking slut, letting two men touch you. What else would you let us do to you?”

“Anything you want,” you respond almost immediately, not having to giving it another thought.

Max’s head lifts from your chest, gently pushing you forward so he can remove your bra.

“That’s a dangerous proposition, doll. You think you can handle both of us at the same time?” Max counters, a devilish glint making his dark eyes shine as he palms himself over his pants.

You nod, unable to respond in any coherent language due to whatever magic Dave is currently performing between your thighs.

Dave tells you to lift your legs, tugging your bottoms the rest of the way down.

He had pulled his pants back on after you and Max arrived, but he shucks them off again, the outline of his dick visibly straining through the fabric.

Max had already stripped down to his undershirt and pants, wiggling out of his shirt while Dave removes his pants.

Dave spreads your thighs apart, drinking in the vision of your sopping wet pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking at his bottom lip like a hungry reptile.

He turns to Max, his eyes glistening, his brow furrowed.

“Make her cum. Get her ready,” Dave commands, Max not bothering to argue with being told what to do so authoritatively, because he wants it just as badly as you do.

“Ride his face,” he tells you, gesturing for you and Max to move over to the bed.

“Use him to get yourself off.”

Max moves into position, wriggling out of his pants in the process, leaving both men in their boxers and you completely nude.

Your walls clench around nothing as you mount Max’s face, planting your knees on either side of his head, your palms against the wall.

Max places a few delicate kisses to your inner thighs before abruptly pulling you all the way down, his tongue curling into your wet heat.

Dave growls, his eyes darkening with lust as he steps out of his boxers, large hand wrapping around the base of his thick cock, steadily stroking himself to the vision of Max eating you out with abandon.

Dave bends to kiss your velvety lips, his tongue demanding access and you let him.

“You remember your safe word, don’t you?” Dave asks as he breaks the kiss, his fingers entwined in your hair.

You nod, your lower lip dangling. “Foxglove for you, lavender for Max,” you reply.

“Good girl,” Dave praises, giving your right ass cheek a solid smack. “Now ride his face. Use him.”

You hear Max grunt something against your folds but you aren’t sure what, leaning back, your spine flexing as you brace yourself on Max’s muscular arms.

Dave watches, transfixed, his hand never leaving his cock as he tilts your head back to kiss and bite at your throat, your jaw.

“Is he doing a good job, sweetheart?” Dave asks and your head bobs eagerly in response.

“Yes he is,” you say as your hips roll forward, thrusting against Max’s tongue, his arched nose bumping your clit with every stroke.

“Max, spread her cheeks for me,” Dave says firmly and Max immediately obliges, his cock twitching in his shorts when he understands where this is going.

With his hands gripping your ass, he helps you to guide your movements, moaning against your folds.

Dave perches on the edge of the bed behind you, collecting some of your excess slick to coat his fingers, assisting Max in spreading you even wider as he teases and prods at your puckered star of muscle.

“Let me in, sweetheart, or it’s going to hurt later,” Dave commands softly, circling your entrance with his index finger. “Lean forward a little bit,” he tells you, placing his palm between your shoulders as he guides you into position.

You brace against the wall again, relaxing as much as you can, the new angle helping.

Dave manages to slip one finger inside, pistoning into your tight tunnel, making you whimper and quiver against Max.

He spits directly onto your anus to apply more lubrication, adding a second finger to the first.

“Keep riding his face just like that. Use both of us, pump yourself onto my fingers as you use his mouth,” Dave says, his voice low, his other hand reaching around to circle your throat.

“There you go,” he says as his fingers probe deeper, scissoring them apart to help stretch you further.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whimper, your movements becoming more determined, more frantic.

Max is a trooper, his fingers still digging into your ass, his grip bruising, his tongue still flicking and curling into your tunnel, not even stopping to take a breath.

“That’s it, sweetheart, such a good girl for us,” Dave murmurs, his voice low and velvet.

He attempts to insert a third finger, adding more spittle and slick, only getting it past the first knuckle, but it does seem to help in spreading you open.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum… I’m so close…” you whine as your bounce more fervently on Max’s face, making him grunt words of affirmation under you, muffled against your soft mound.

Dave’s hold on your neck tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin, his lips brushing your ear.

“Let go for us, sweetheart. Let it all out.”

Max continues to guide your movements, Dave helping now as well, bouncing you up and down, using your neck as a handle.

With a loud cry, you cum hard and fast, stars behind your eyes as both men work you through your orgasm, Dave’s hand releasing your throat to return to his cock, Max groaning into your pussy until the waves of pleasure subside.

Dave pulls his fingers free, stilling his ministrations on his own body as he gently cups your cheek.

“Still okay?” he asks, and you nod with a smile as you climb off of Max who, understandably, needs a moment to take a breath.

Max finally extricates himself from his boxers, heavy cock springing free, pumping himself slowly as his visage roves hungrily over you and Dave.

“Get on his cock and lean forward,” Dave demands in a low growl, and you shimmy down Max’s body, straddling him, Max slotting himself at your entrance and lifting his hips to meet you in the middle.

You slowly sink down to his lap, Max releasing a hiss of pleasure, placing his hands on either side of your hips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel amazing,” Max pants, already bucking his hips in anticipation.

Dave positions himself behind you, on his knees, his hands also moving to your hips, fingers brushing Max’s.

They lock eyes with each other, his brow a hard, dark line as he regards the other man.

“You are not allowed to cum in her. Understand?” he tells Max, his voice low and authoritative, his lips tight.

Max frowns, his brow wrinkling in disapproval, but he doesn’t protest, not wanting to let the opportunity to be inside you slip through his fingers.

Dave edges closer, adding more spit and slick to your anus, inserting two fingers again to ensure you’re ready.

“Just relax, baby, and use your safe words if you need them,” Dave tells you gently, placing the head of his cock against your tight ring of muscle.

“Just breathe,” he says, and begins slowly pushing himself into you.

As Dave gradually gains ground, you’ve never felt so full in your entire life, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, even when Dave claimed your ass the first night.

There is some pain initially, but the alcohol helps to alleviate some of the discomfort, as well as slacken your muscles enough for Dave to bottom out.

His head falls back with a loud groan as his hips press firmly against your ass, stilling himself for a beat to relish the sensation of your body strangling his cock.

After a moment, both men exchange another look and they begin to move slowly in conjunction with one another, their movements choppy and stilted at first as they learn the other’s movements, able to find a mutual rhythm after a few minutes that seems to work for you.

“Oh fuck,” you keen, burying your face against Max’s shoulder while both men slide in and out of you in tandem, and you think you’ve never felt anything more glorious in your entire life.

Max wraps his arms around your back, holding you against him, whispering encouragement in your ear.

“Look at you,” Max praises, one hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. “Taking both of us so well. You like having two men inside of you, don’t you?”

You nod and whimper against his neck, your hot breath fanning his skin, on the verge of tears with how heavenly it feels, how much joy and pleasure they’re gifting to you.

Dave gives your right ass cheek another sharp smack, making you yelp in surprise at the abrupt lance of pain.

“Say it. Say out loud how much you love it,” Dave grits through his teeth, his ministrations growing more intense.

“I love having two men inside of me, fucking me, using me,” you mewl between breaths, relinquishing a loud moan when their hips snap against you simultaneously, almost as if they planned it.

Little by little, their movements increase in speed and power, seamlessly with the other, a series of curses and inhuman noises bellowing out of your ribcage.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you cry out when you feel yourself getting close for a second time, your muscles already tightening. “I’m gonna fucking… cum… again…” you groan against Max’s neck.

Dave lands another slap to your ass, their thrusts growing rougher, your bed rocking against the wall.

“Cum for us, baby. Cum all over Max’s cock while I’m railing your tight little ass,” Dave snarls, panting hard as he chases his own end as well.

You reach your second peak only moments later, your vision going pure white as you’re hurtled far over the edge, experiencing the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, gushing unapologetically all over Max’s lap and your bed.

They keep pistoning against you, riding you through the waves of your orgasm, the sounds of their grunts and growls filling the small space.

Dave can tell by the look on Max’s face that he’s close as well, his breath ragged in his chest as he warns Max a second time not to finish inside of you.

Max’s cheeks inflate, his skin a deep shade of pink, sweat prickling his brow as he does everything he can to hold back.

“Final warning,” Dave grits, reaching around you to grip Max by the throat, squeezing hard enough to get his point across.

With a deep grunt, Max pulls out of you at the last possible second, locking eyes with Dave, hand still wrapping his throat, exploding like a goddamn geyser all over your ass and Dave’s stomach.

That spurs Dave to reach his own end, stilling inside of you, hips twitching and jerking involuntarily as he unloads everything he has to give, your flexing and pulsing anus milking every last drop.

He collapses on top of you, both men breathing haggardly, your skin slicked with perspiration.

You stay like that for a while, none of you wanting to move for a long time.

Dave pushes his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, his cheek resting against Max’s chest.

He eventually pulls out, rolling onto his back as you settle between them, lying in comfortable silence for what seems like an eternity.

Max pushes himself up, going over to the bathroom to grab some warm, damp rags, tossing one to you and Dave, using the third on himself.

Dave scoots to the edge of the bed, studying Max in silence as Max gathers his clothes.

You move next to Dave, also watching Max get dressed, quirking a brow in confusion and concern.

“You aren’t staying?”

—

You walk Max down, the elevator ride silent and stifling, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets, having never been more quiet in his life.

You follow him to the street, staying with him until he reaches the corner.

“I have work tomorrow,” he says, a flimsy excuse at best.

You cross your arms, searching his face. “Are you okay?” you question, finding yourself genuinely worried.

“Yeah,” Max replies stiffly, confused and overwhelmed by everything that just occurred, his mind replaying the moment Dave grabbed his throat, resulting in him exploding all over both of you like a nervous teen on prom night.

“I just want to be sure…” he begins, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “Did you want that?”

You meet his eyes with your own, not used to seeing Max this vulnerable, this unsure. You don’t like it.

“Yes. I did…” you say honestly, exhaling a slow breath.

“Did you?” you ask softly.

“Yeah. I did. I wanted it, and I enjoyed it, but… I don’t know,” he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just tired.”

You search his face again, searching for the unspoken answers, but not wanting to scare him away by prying too much.

You step into him, wrapping your arms around him in a snug embrace, and he buries his face in your hair, his arms linking behind your back.

He pulls away after a beat, his hands moving to either side of your face.

“I’ll text you soon. Okay? I’m sorry again, by the way. About your grandmother.”

You inhale deeply, nodding in acknowledgment, trying not to cry again. Sensing your pain, feeling a different kind of pain twisting in his chest, Max does something he normally wouldn’t.

He pulls you closer, his lips connecting with yours in a soft, worshipping kiss, long fingers sinking into your hair, committing the way you taste to memory.

—

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @kellybelly1978 @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @yorksgirl @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @daddy-dins-girl @natdeandar @sarap-77 @guelyury @vabeachazn @gwendibleywrites @anoverwhelmingdin @oberynslady @untamedheart81 @casa-boiardi

#pedro pascal #dave york #max phillips #the dave york pit #dave york x f!reader #dave york x reader #two for one #two for one series #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x reader

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waywardsummoner46 · 6 months ago

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Sink Into the Darkness, My Light | Three | ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

"Join us, my Light."

Two centuries ago, the ruler of the Light disappeared, plunging the universe into chaos and disrupting the sacred, unspoken balance of the universe.

The eight rulers of the Darkness never stopped looking for her; their obsession never once waning since she vanished.

Recently, they've sensed something. Never around long enough to pinpoint but so euphoric that it sings within their veins. And since meeting you, well... slowly they begin to understand why.

"Sink into the darkness with us."

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

「✦」 PAIRING - yandere ot8!ateez x (?)reader

「✦」 GENRE - ancient gods!au, fantasy!au, magical powers!au

「✦」 WARNINGS - mind control, gaslighting, dom/sub, subspace (of a sort), temporary amnesia, manipulation, YANDERE AND DARK THEMES

「✦」 WORD COUNT - 2,024

「✦」 A/N - Sorry it took so long to get this one out, it is shorter than usual but after a couple of weeks I'll be able to write more frequently :)

「✦」 TAGLIST - @yandere-stories - @adorawritesalot

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

• one • two • three • four • five •

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

You hadn’t said a word since you left Seonghwa’s house.

The entire experience had left a queasy feeling in your stomach and regardless of how immaculately styled your hair was, it seemed nothing could quell your unease. Ji-Ah had noticed your unusual silence when departing the old house but hadn’t caused a scene until after Seonghwa had waved you off.

“I hope you have a good night, (Y/N).” He’d grinned at you, a glint in his eyes that seemed completely alien to his distraught visage earlier. You’d suppressed a shudder at his wink, feeling distinctly off until Seonghwa’s manor was but a speck in the rear view mirror.

Ji-Ah turned to you, hair curled to frame her face and layers only accentuating her features. “Okay-” “Seonghwa was so handsome, wasn’t he?” At Jiwon’s exclamation, both you and your soon-to-be interrogator winced violently.

“Jesus fuck, Jiwon-ah. Tone down the volume a little bit.”

A mildly sheepish look crossed her face but the heat in her eyes didn’t diminish. A headache began to form at your temples and you were growing increasingly agitated at her persistence, “You can’t deny it. He was like an angel! I’ve never seen anyone look like that before.”

Regrettably, you whispered, “I have.” Perhaps a little too loudly, for Jiwon’s starstruck eyes grew brighter and the fire in Ji-Ah’s eyes was replaced by a mischievous twinkle.

“Who-?”

“Why, you little-”

Yeosang and Yunho’s faces flashed in your mind, a private smile gracing your lips. That feeling of lingering anxiety also melted away.

How strange.

You weren’t ready to discuss that so readily after your emotional roller coaster so… “What? I didn’t say anything,” and just like that the car erupted into madness.

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

“Hey, ladies. What can I get ya?”

After ordering your drinks, the three of you scoped out a table tucked into a corner but still with a good view of the stage.

There were still residual nerves fluttering about inside your chest; this nightclub in particular was a last minute decision on Jiwon’s behalf. The club you regulared was full, according to the bouncers, so, determined not to have a failed birthday, your two friends had dragged your half-hearted and highly reluctant self to ‘Siren’s Den’.

Apparently, this nightclub had only recently been built and the owners were as elusive as the sun in a lightning storm.

In other words, good luck finding them.

Despite your mild discomfort at being in such an unfamiliar environment on top of (being so far out of your comfort zone) the unexpected turn of events… the nightclub wasn’t half bad.

The stage was very evidently the main attraction; expensive-looking stage lights were attached to the ceiling and what you assumed were smoke machines of some kind were concealed by the intricate, crimson velvet curtains on the stage. In the darkish lighting of the club, you couldn’t really make out the floor of the stage but it was evident that it was top quality just from the taintless reflection of what little lighting illuminated the space.

And… were those fire machines?

“It isn’t too bad here, is it?” Ji-Ah commented passively, taking a sip of her rum and coke. She grimaced immediately at it, staring at it as though it had personally wronged her.

You laughed at her expense. “Not too bad, huh?”

“Har har, you’re hilarious,” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “It’s not even that it tastes bad, there’s just something about it I don’t like.”

Silence for all of two seconds swept over the table before Jiwon grabbed her glass of whatever cocktail she’d decided, picked it up and chugged the entire thing down in one go. She let out the most ungodly shriek you’d ever heard and all you could do was stare with a dumb half-smile on your face.

Because just what on earth was that.

“I don’t know why you two are looking at me like that, I displayed perfectly acceptable behaviour for a nightcl- oh, Wooyoung! Hi!”

Following her gaze with a raised eyebrow you turned to look behind you,

jaw dropped at the sight of a young man practically waltzing up to your table - he didn’t look like he’d just be hovering either. The table was circular so the only way for him to sit down was either by Jiwon or by… oh, no.

Luckily for you, he sat down quite energetically next to Jiwon who looked completely thrilled to see whoever this Wooyoung guy was. So thrilled that, instead of simply moving over, she grabbed his smooth cheeks and brought him in for a kiss. (A kiss is generous, it looked more like they were trying to eat each others’ faces off.) A quick glance at Ji-Ah showed she shared similar sentiments to you.

“Jiwon, care to introduce us to your… uh, friend?” Ji-Ah questioned, a disapproving twinge to her facial features.

You’d like to know the answer to that yourself. Jiwon had always been the more extroverted and flirtatious of the three of you, but never had she treated someone with so much passion. To your knowledge, there had never been any further progression than incredibly suggestive flirtation so to see her basically eating this man’s face off was, to say the least, a bit of a shock.

Ultimately, it was Wooyoung who pulled away first, looking down at Jiwon with a devilish grin on his face. That wasn’t entirely inaccurate either; you’d compare him to the devil, dangerous because he was so beautiful. In return, she looked up through dazed eyes and you thought you saw something a black mist or pigment fading from her eyes.

Your eyes lingered on her own for a little while longer, convinced you’d seen something.

She noticed you staring, “Everything okay, (Y/N)-ah? You’re looking at me like you want to kill me.”

Giving her what you hoped was a natural smile, you assured her lightly that you were fine, simply mildly shocked. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She then turns to Wooyoung with a glint in her eyes that made every hair on your body stand on edge, for a reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “So, this,” she gestures to him. “Is Wooyoung.”

A faint itch began at your jugular and you raised an absentminded hand to scratch at it.

“Yeah, Wooyoung… it’s, uh, nice to meet you?” Ji-Ah phrased it as a question, probably still recovering from the emotional whiplash of the entire day.

Wooyoung turned to Ji-Ah and gave her a polite bow from across the table, “Nice to meet you as well, Jiwon’s told me a lot about you.”

You listened to him speak, picking up on something in his tone that made your eyes narrow subtly. The itching grew worse and you tried to be conspicuous with your scratches, the sound drowned by the low hum of the nightclub around you.

“And you must be (Y/N).” The words to respond got stuck in your throat, as though something was causing your trachea to swell and your voicebox to break. You tried to smile politely, really you did, but your jugular grew to a point of pain where controlling your facial features was becoming difficult.

Clearing your throat, you struggled past the pain and brought your hands into clenched fists under the table. “That’s me.” And that was all you could manage. Jiwon began a conversation that you couldn’t focus on at all but the sound of her voice was comforting.

God, what was wrong with you today?

You closed your eyes tightly, letting the low droning of your friends' voices ground your senses. You were becoming mildly overwhelmed, to say the least, and you just needed a few seconds to come back to yourself before maintaining a facade of sociability.

The night had only just begun, and yet… you really just wanted to sleep.

A light touch to the hand clutching your drink caused you to open your eyes, turning to meet the concerned eyes of Ji-Ah. Communicating silently, you assured her through your eyes that you were okay. Having known each other for so long, reading each others’ facial expressions was like being fluent in another language.

“- and then, this guy, Hongjoong I think his name was-”

You couldn’t help it; the hairs that were already on end seemed to stand impossibly straight and goosebumps erupted all across your skin. The nauseous feeling in your stomach that you’d tried so desperately to ignore returned tenfold and you emptied everything you’d consumed on the floor.

You coughed violently. Ji-Ah stroked your back with a soothing hand and encouraging words, reaching for a water someone must’ve brought to the table.

Accepting it gracefully, you took a sip and washed your mouth out of the taste of your own vomit. After a while of sitting keeled over at a table, you assumed it was some cleaners that had to come to clean up your mess. You would’ve apologised profusely but you were hit with a wave of exhaustion so powerful Ji-Ah had to actually wrench you back upright from your clothes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m taking you home.”

“No, Ji-Ah, I’m okay. I swear-”

“Tell that to the cleaners who just swiped away your stomach acid. For fuck sake, you’re green in the face! You aren’t well. Now. Let’s. Go.” Once Ji-Ah had her mind set on something, there was no use in disputing against her. You wouldn’t win.

Before even turning to look at Jiwon and Wooyoung, you knew Jiwon was sitting there with an expression of utter devastation and regret. She’d blame herself, even if nothing was her fault. “Jiwon-ah, I know exactly what you’re thinking. I’ve had a wonderful day and this does not erase the fact that this has been the best birthday I’ve had in a while.”

Ji-Ah wrapped your arm around her shoulders and grabbed your bag from the seat. “It was lovely to meet you, Wooyoung. Sorry to cut it so short.”

He’d rested his head on top of Jiwon’s. His arms wrapped around her, evoking a sharp spike in your heart rate and the final reawakening of that damn itch on your neck. He smirked, tilting his head as though considering your entire being. Eventually, he must’ve found what he was looking for. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other a lot more often.”

Ji-Ah’s hand tightening from its place supporting your waist made you realise just how ominous that sounded. “Now that we’ve officially met, I’d love to get to know my… girlfriend’s friends a bit more, wouldn’t you agree?”

You laughed awkwardly, and nodded. “See you around, then.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Happy Birthday.”

Then, bidding final goodbyes, you and Ji-Ah walked out of that nightclub but not without a final glance back at the couple. Something compelled you to look and you saw, with appallment, that Wooyoung was actively biting Jiwon on the neck. She seemed to be enjoying it. Thoroughly. So you turned around and tried to rid your mind of that sight.

What you didn’t see were the black veins spreading from where he’d bitten, Jiwon collapsing against him like a puppet with no strings and a euphoric breath leaving his mouth.

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

Ji-Ah drove you home and the first thing you did was collapse onto your bed and sleep. The day had taken its toll on you and you were more than prepared for the comforts of Dreamland.

As you snored away, the book on your nightstand grew alive. The cover was thrown open and pages were being flipped of their own will. ‘The Hidden War Within’ began to glow in the dim light of your bedroom, a white light emitting from its pages and the faint heat made you burrow into your pillow, subconsciously comforted by the warm aura.

Eventually, the pages ceased their movements but the book remained open; it was the first dated entry.

A plague punctures mine heart,

Mine soul forever tainted by thine words,

For false promises and careless lies are such sweet sins,

And I pray, I may drown in the Light,

Than sink into the Darkness.

~ Anonymous

#ateez x reader #choi jongho x reader #choi san x reader #dark ateez #jeong yunho x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #kang yeosang x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #song mingi x reader

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thus-spoke-lo · 10 months ago

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cw: gn!reader. self-ship coded. wc: 900

It’s a clear night, the first one in days, the snowfall finally pausing as if by command as the sun began to set. Here in the elevation of the coliseum, waiting in the cold, it’s quiet, the revelry below a hum that vibrates in your chest. The city is raucous, citizens gathering in the streets and filling every cobblestone walkway, a cacophony of music and singing and drunken revelry as the clock nears midnight. It’s warming to hear them like this, and if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine your childhood village, the same sounds of love and celebration and hope for something greater echoing through the town.

You lean over the balcony and fiddle with the ring on your finger, watch it glint in the light of the waning moon; it’s heavy with metal and stone and the weight of secrets and promises. It would be the greatest wedding the New World had ever seen, Doflamingo assured you as your cheeks burned and your eyes welled and something twisted pleasantly inside your chest as he presented it to you weeks ago. You’d be the people’s queen of Dressrosa, hanging from the arm of a warlord as you garnered goodwill from the citizens, kept safe from the cruel world that lies beyond these borders, if only you’d say yes—as if you had any mind to refuse. You can’t help but wonder if the crowd below will cheer as loud for you and their king as they are for the beginning of a new year.

The sharp clack of expensive loafers and the loud rustle of feathers pull you from your musings, and you turn to see Doflamingo emerging from the darkness of the stone hallway, two bottles of wine held in one hand, in the other a glass that appears amusingly small in his grip. The grin stretched across his lips is sincere, but something else colors his expression as he approaches you and sets the wine on the ground.

“I apologize for my lateness, little bird,” he coos, bending at the waist to kiss you on the top of your head. “I had a last-minute problem that needed to be dealt with.”

You cock your head, reaching out a hand to stroke the reddened knuckles of his right hand. “Is everything alright?”

He smiles down at you, softening, his posture loosening. “I’d rather not ruin our evening.”

He sits in the throne-like chair meant for him and only him, settling against the plush fabric, and pulls you into his lap without another word; you know better than to ask any more questions and instead take his injured hand in both of yours and plant soft kisses along his irritated skin, a show of devotion. He hums contentedly You instinctively take the wine and pour a glass for yourself, handing the bottle back to him for his portion.

“I’m glad it cleared up tonight,” you mutter as you lean against him, closing your eyes as his long fingers gently stroke the side of your face. You turn and kiss his palm, his skin warm against your lips.

“I couldn’t disappoint my queen, could I?” His hand slides down your body and settles at your waist, snaking his arm around you, his fingers digging into your softness, kneading your side absentmindedly, seeming to stop himself from letting his hand wander lower. “And the people would have rioted if they couldn’t have their little show.”

“You’re so giving,” you chuckle.

Doflamingo doesn’t respond, only laughs low and quiet and pulls you tighter against him; you half-expect to feel the sharpness of his strings around you for your little jab, but he seems to be in a generous mood. He pours you your glass of wine and keeps the bottle for himself, clinking the neck against the rim of your goblet before gulping it down as you sip at yours. It’s tempting to make a toast—to him, to the two of you, to power and control, to loyalty and obedience—but the comfortable silence means more to you than ritual.

It’s almost peaceful here above the city, just you and him and the warmth of something that feels like love wrapped around you. Soon, bright lights explode over Dressrosa, and the crowd below cheers and shouts as neon pinks and blues and greens illuminate the skies, thunderous booms rattling your ribs. The wine warms your cheeks and you cling to Doflamingo even more; he guides your head to his chest and he covers your exposed ear, his own act of silent devotion.

“It’s a new year, little bird,” he grins as the fireworks end and the sky turns hazy, the stars veiled in sulfuric smoke. He tilts your head back and seems to examine you for a moment, reading the lines around your mouth, the crinkles of your eyes as you smile back. And he kisses you—softly at first, wine-scented tongue delicately tracing your lips, then with ardor and urgency, with a hunger that he’ll never satiate no matter how many times his mouth claims yours. “What do you want in the year ahead, hm?”

“You.” The words are soft, almost exhaled into his mouth, as you try to catch your breath. “Only you.”

He grins against your lips, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest; the hand at your waist starts to wander lower. “Then let’s start off the new year with a bang.”

#it's not yet midnight where i am so i made it in time lol #ending 2023 still insane about him #doflamingo x reader #loflamingo #lo writes

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prolix-yuy · 1 year ago

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For the Bangathon: Snuggling spoon with Javi G or Oberyn?

Ahhhhh we love ourselves a little snuggly sexxin'! Oberyn was calling to me for this one, but it may be a little more tense than we think...

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFC

Position: Snuggled Spoon

Word Count: 1419 (see how these get longer the more of them I write? I have no self-control)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), fingering (f receiving), allusions to public sex, cum tasting, hate sex, Oberyn is an affectionate bastard.

Notes: A follow-up to this drabble, because I wanted to see how it all panned out.

“How are your accommodations, little scorpion?”

The infuriating voice of her captor (and failed assassination attempt) drifts through her cell bars. Remaining on her side on the floor, only a few crumpled blankets to soften the uncomfortable stone, she ignores his question.

It wasn’t the first time the Prince had visited during her imprisonment. She’d screamed and railed against him the first time, tried to claw at him the second. Every spitfire reaction left him with a smarmy smile, standing just out of reach. He pulled little bits of information out of her each time - who sent her (a prominent family tired of the house leaders), what her plan was (to poison him and flee to Westeros), if she’d ever cum that hard with a lover she chose (silence). The game was more intriguing to him than she’d hoped, praying for his attention to drift so she could devise a way to escape. But every passing day he visits, and every day she grows wearier of her predicament.

Today, she’s done with this game. Her stomach is empty yet again, body aching, and hope waning. Her employers feign ignorance of her plan, abandoning her as she should have guessed. There was no one coming to reward her for her loyalty.

“Oh come now, has all your fire finally burned out?” Oberyn purrs, but she doesn’t rise to his challenge. She’d overheard the guards speaking of an execution date, fast approaching. What does this sparring matter when she’s about to be erased from history? A blip only in the mind of a small few, forgotten when larger matters loom.

Oberyn hums, then calls to a guard. Her interest piques for a moment, the rusty clank of keys and the creak of her door opening urging her to roll over and watch. The Prince, in his fine mustard robes and heavy jewelry, steps into the cell. The door closes behind him, even though the guard’s wary face hovers nearby. She sits fully, glaring up at her captor. He only chuckles, leaning back against the bars.

“So I have your attention finally,” he drawls, crossing his arms and raking his gaze over her body. They’d swapped her gauze and silk for a rough shift, the fabric barely keeping her warm in the night. The vulnerability makes her skin crawl.

“If it pleases the Prince of Dorne,” she spits, turning to lay back on her side. Her hands itch to press her thumbs into his eyes, but what good would it do? Speed up the sentence from days to minutes?

“Oh come now, little scorpion, I’ve already commended you on how much your subterfuge entertained me,” he tuts, steps light and cat-like approaching. “Easily the most fun I’ve had in months. And all our sparring over these last days. Don’t let your current state tamp out your fury. It’s the most beautiful thing about you.”

She stays firmly turned to the wall as he sits beside her, the heat of his body melting the ice along her spine. Denying the satisfaction of her relief, she bites down on her lip.

“I’ve never had such a…” he begins again, trying to win her attention for some mystifying reason, before he stops. His fingers brush against her bare arm. “You’re freezing.”

She snorts, very unladylike. “Maybe I’ll perish from the cold before my beheading.”

Suddenly she’s surrounded by warmth, eyes shooting open. The man she was conscripted to kill is now draping his robe around her, bare expanse of his chest snug to her back. His breath dances along her cheek, and try as she might a shudder loosens her limbs.

“Little scorpion, I would not have you suffer,” he says, and the somber tone drips wonder on her skin. Perhaps ill-advised, but she presses back against his blazing heat, wondering if all desert men are this scorching or if it’s only Oberyn. His palm comes up to her arm and warms her skin. A reedy sound of relief catches in her throat.

Before she can protest his hand travels over her stomach to cup her sex. Such boldness would normally result in the loss of a hand, but at the barest brush her core aches. Much as she hates to admit it (and never would to the Prince), she had dreamt of his touch more than once.

“I can warm you much better than this,” Oberyn purrs in her ear, his wicked fingers already creeping below her shift.

“What makes you think I would want your touch, my Prince?” She tries to hold her voice steady but his fingers are already swiping at her folds.

“This,” he gloats, bringing his soaked fingers to her face. Her arousal gleams thickly. “I think you would positively gush on me again.” Without pretense he drags his fingers into his mouth, sucking indulgently. She turns and watches him, pure sin and infuriating charm. His eyes open, and by the gods, they’re ravenous.

“Will you take what your Prince gives you, little scorpion?” he demands, and every fiber of her being is screaming to deny him, but her parted lips and slow nod betray her. He smiles wickedly, tugging his cock from his pants to slide between her clenched thighs. Passing over her weeping cunt, he props himself up to closely watch her face.

“I have dreamt of this cunt since you gave it to me, fucked my fist at the memory of you clenching around me,” he spits out, notching his blunt head at her at her entrance. “And now, I’ll do it again. But this time, you’ll scream my name.”

With a forceful thrust he buries himself inside her, the blinding sensation of fullness and sharp pleasure driving her to tuck into herself. He tuts and yanks her back against his chest, hand loosely around her throat as he sets a toe-curling pace. His teeth scrape her ear as he pants.

“Tight, wet, perfect little thing. Did you think your beauty and wiles would keep me from seeing your true nature?” he hisses, plunging his other hand between her legs to pinch her clit between his fingers. All she can do is wail and rock against his hold, hands scrabbling back to grip his pounding hips. “I’ve had many a pleasure, indulged all my vices, but making you cum on my cock as you tried to kill me…now that was a new experience.”

Her breath whistles out through clenched teeth, wishing her body didn’t mold to his so readily. Nails digging into his hips, he growls and nips at her skin. Her orgasm is fast approaching, cursing and praising his skill as he pointedly strokes her clit and pounds into the perfect place inside.

“Yes, my dangerous little scorpion, all glittering and deadly, cum for me a second time. I want your cunt to only desire how well I fuck it.” A quick strum of his fingers and her body traitorously snaps around him, only held in check by his grip and the roar of his snarl in her ear. When her body laxes he manhandles her to her back, lifting her hips off the ground as he slaps into her with reckless thrusts. A few more and he pulls out, fisting his cock and mashing his lips to hers as he cums in the palm of his hand.

His lips are full and soft, the scratch of his mustache and beard burning against her skin. He sweeps his tongue into her mouth, full and domineering, but when she presses back with teeth and a lap of her own his hips stutter between hers. They kiss messily, licking and biting and panting against each other’s mouths until he finally lifts up and looks down at her. The Prince of House Martell, flushed and satiated, eyes just as dark and promising.

“I stand by what I said during your arrest,” he says lightly, standing and shrugging off the floor-length robe. He drapes it over her body, sauntering to the cell door with only low-slung pants and the golden expanse of his back. She sits up, clutching the robe to her chest still warm. “You may beat us all to the Iron Throne one day, with that tenacity of yours.”

One hand pulls the door shut…but not quite. Not enough for the latch to catch, but enough for the guards to believe so. Her eyes snap from the door to Oberyn’s eyes, challenge and conquest pooling in them.

“Come try and kill me again if you can, little scorpion.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martel x reader #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x ofc #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction

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thewhitewitch-bitch · 6 days ago

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In Astris Supra (Chapter 3: Hora Tenebrissima, Potentiam Tuam, Terrenam et Divinam, Excita)

Agatha Harkness x F!OC

Read it on AO3

A fortnight. Fourteen days of cold, eerily quiet nights, and days filled with the turning of pages. Every basic spell studied, every school of magic reviewed. Except for one. Mine. The last page of Carminum et Magicarum was reserved for it, a magic that is so rare that hardly anything is known about it. The pads of my fingertips traced over the sketch of a full moon at the top of the page as my hazel eyes looked to the script beneath it.

Lunar Magic

A rare and difficult magic, Lunar magic is controlled by the phases of the moon and the position of the stars. Witches who are attuned to this particular form of magic can be considered worldly and empathetic but are often prone to fluctuating moods that are reflective of the lunar phases. Through their connection to the moon, Lunar witches are known to have their power wane and wax with it, reaching highs and lows with the full and dark moons.

Due to its rarity, the particular strengths and weaknesses of Lunar magic are unknown, though previous practitioners of this school of magic have shown promise in the art of healing and-

The crunching of frosted leaves interrupted my reading. I quickly tucked my spell book beneath my cloak and rose from my seat on the stump. It had to be her. It just had to be.

"I'd be lying if I said I was surprised it took you so long to come ba-"

As I turned with a smile growing on my face, I was met with a look of terror. The delicate face of Agatha Harkness was mottled and bruised, her lip split and swollen, caked with dried blood. Her blue eyes were brimming with horror and welling with tears.

My smile dropped.

I left the circle.

"What happened?" I whispered gently once I had stopped close enough to her that I could take in the full extent of damage done. The bruises that lined her jaw and blotched her cheeks were in varying stages of color, some were purple and black, others were yellowing. The cut through her lip couldn't have been more than a few hours old though, the blood though clotted was still relatively fresh. "Tell me."

Part of me already knew. The reluctance to meet my eye, the hesitation to accept even the lightest touch when I moved to observe her closely. But I needed to hear it from her to be absolutely certain of it.

"My mother knows that I came to see you." she whispered back, her voice restrained and cracked as if she hadn't spoken much in the last few days, "She doesn't know why, but... sh-she had me confined to the house."

"Did she do this?" I couldn't resist reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as I asked. When she didn't answer, I inched myself closer and cupped her face with the gentlest touch. Raising her gaze to mine, my heart shattered like glass in my chest. "Agatha, darling, did she do this to you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came from it. I didn't need it though, the look in her eyes was enough to confirm it. Releasing her face, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the circle of stones. Uttering under my breath words of passage, she walked with me into my camp and allowed me to seat her in front of the fire. Her shoulders began to shake, though not from the cold as the tears that had been pooling spilled forth, staining her cheeks. Her hands clung to the wool of the cloak she had given me as she buried her face into my side and sobbed. I did my best to envelope her from where I stood, running a hand through her long, dark locks as I hushed her gently.

After a few minutes passed, Agatha pulled away and took a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around her waist to provide some self-comfort. I carefully, cautiously pulled away to fetch the pail of water I had collected from the nearby stream that morning and a clean rag. Returning to her side quickly, I knelt before her and dipped a corner the rag into the pail.

Looking back at her with kindness in my eyes and anger in my heart, I said, "This will most certainly hurt, but let's see if we can get you cleaned up a bit."

She nodded once, minute and quick, allowing me to reach up and take hold of her chin before raising the rag to the dried blood that had dribbled down in it. She winced at the chill of the water being pressed to her skin, but it warmed quickly, and she settled into the pressure as I wiped the blood away.

"I didn't mean to steal your drinking water for the day." She muttered as I refreshed the rag. I chuckled softly, the corners of my mouth curving up.

"I'll get more, love. It's not far of a walk."

Her brow furrowed as I brought the rag to the split in her lip. When I touched it to her, she hissed but didn't pull away, allowing me to press it against her mottled skin. After a brief sting, she relaxed, almost leaning into the cool sensation. A thought occurred to me as I watched her eyes flutter shut, and the creases of stress and fear melt away.

'Previous practitioners of this school of magic have shown promise in the art of healing...'

"You're not going back there." I told her after a few minutes of quiet had passed by. "Not tonight, at least."

"My mother-"

"Will be dealt with accordingly." I assured her. "For now, hold this to your wound. I have an idea as to taking care of those bruises for you, but we'll have to wait for nightfall."

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When the golden hour of the day had passed and night began to settle upon us, I felt a surge of power well up within me. The moon would be at its fullest on that night, bathing the wood in its pale silvery glow. Its serenity, its strength was unmatched when at its peak. It made me feel indestructible, as though I could take a thousand bullets to the chest and carry on without pause. Such power was intoxicating, and it was the first time I felt that I could allow myself to express the serendipity that it provided. Even during my time in Kamar-Taj, when I had been allowed to wield my power without punishment or retaliation, I had not felt free enough to take in and release the full extent of my magic at its peak. But here, in the presence of no one other than Agatha Harkness, I gave myself permission to be free for the first time in my life.

As the moon's light became brighter and stronger, I flipped through the pages of my spellbook, searching for the simplest of healing spells, finding it in a matter of moments. Glancing over at Agatha, I saw that the swelling had gone down tremendously over the past few hours, but her bruises remained bright and blossoming, the fear in her eyes still lingered in trace amounts. I scanned over the incantation and reached for the fresh pail of water that I had collected and carried over to where Agatha had remained. Collecting a cup, I filled it to the brim and held it to the nearest ray of silvery moonlight.

"Vulnera ad ab curare. Vulnera ad ab curare. Vulnera ad ab curare."

I had seen this spell cast before but it was never useful for anything more than a minor cut. But when I finished my incantation and looked down at the water sitting in my cup, I was shocked to see that it had begun to glow as white as polished pearls. The water had never glowed before, not when other witches performed the spell, at least. Turning away from the moonlight, I offered the cup to Agatha.

"Drink, darling." I ordered gently. She did as she was asked, the glow of the spell spreading across her cheeks like the blood in her veins. A few swallows later, the freshest of her bruises had vanished, as had the older ones, replaced by the pristine fair tone that she usually possessed. Another swallow and the split in her lip began to seal itself together, drawing any remaining flecks of blood back into her body before closing off entirely.

I watched in amazement as Agatha set the cup down and met my eye firmly for the first time that day.

"How do I look?" she asked me.

"Absolutely beautiful." I replied without pause.

A hesitant, faint smile painted itself upon her lips, the beginnings of a blush dusted the sharp line of her cheeks. I couldn't believe it. Such a simple spell had been made powerful enough to undo two weeks' worth of abuse and damage. What more could come of this magic? What else could I accomplish in the centuries that I had yet to live?

"Are you alright, Ash?"

Her melodic voice brought me out of my head and back into reality. She was looking at me curiously, like I had spontaneously grown a second head. I grinned and started to laugh, tears of revelation brimming in my eyes.

"Yes, yes, I- I'm fine!" I said as I wiped my eyes dry with the cuff of my white cotton shirt, "I just... I believe I've found the path I'm meant to follow. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on you, darling. I made you a promise and I mean to keep it. But this... this healing magic... it might just change everything."

I returned to my place on my knees before her, my hands cupping her face with the same gentle touch I had given her earlier. My heart fluttered at the slight parting of her perfect, pink lips. The glow of the moonlight in her eyes reflected back at me like frosted glass, delicate and precious. She was perfect in every possible way.

And I refused to believe otherwise.

"We'll resume your lessons tomorrow." I told her, running my thumb across her cheek. "You and me, darling. A coven of two, I swear it."

Her expression suddenly became unreadable to me. The pounding in my chest grew louder and louder. My mind wandered toward the thought of what she would taste like, what her lips would feel like pressed against mine.

'Intoxicating,' the voice in my head whispered, 'just like your power.'

I swallowed sharply and the haziness in my head went away as soon as I broke eye contact. My hands dropped from her face and took hold of the delicate hands folded in her lap.

"Ash," she breathed. I froze. The desire was certainly there; to lean in just a bit further and tell her without words that my heart had begun to sing her name. But now wasn't the time, not when her coven was undoubtedly considering the idea of killing me for teaching her to control her power. Not when I had only truly known her for three days.

I pulled away and rose to my feet. Running a hand over my face, I let my eyes land anywhere but on Agatha, knowing that if I were to meet her gaze again tonight, I would not be able to resist the pull that was growing stronger by the second.

"You should rest." I told her, turning toward the large canvas tent that would easily fit two for the night. "You can sleep on the camp bed. There are furs and quilts for you as well."

Pulling back the waxed canvas, I slipped inside and grabbed a fire striker from the top of a crate at the foot of my bed. Opening the small oil lantern beside it, I struck the flint, lighting the wick and closed off the chamber. The pale orange glow illuminated the tent, casting dancing shadows against the walls of the tent as I gathered a spare rabbit fleece and a heavy wool blanket before removing my cloak and laying it across the browning grass.

A hand took hold of my wrist as I moved to lay down. I didn't resist as it pulled me to the camp bed and set me down. Agatha's hand remained fixed to my wrist, though I still made the effort to avoid meeting her gaze.

"I- I don't..." she tried, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. Against my better judgement, I glanced up at her. My gaze didn't tear away from hers as I pulled her down onto the bed beside me.

"I understand." I uttered, lacing our fingers together. Gently, I lowered myself, and by extension her, onto the bed. She pressed into my side, letting her head rest in the crook of my neck, our hands still joined. "Just rest, love. Just rest."

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness x oc #marvel cinematic universe

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herri-writes · 2 years ago

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In This Eternity

Mika Kagehira x Reader (!!)

Note: Pls this idea stayed in my brain occasionally. (Long ass writer's note and fic incoming) Idk but i put some slight spoilers from Sprout * Waning Hermitage. I cannot unthink of how beautiful this is-- INCLUDING THE CARD ARTS I AM IN LOVE. RABU~I It's been a while since I last wrote a songfic. Never thought I'll be able to write one using an enstars song— especially Acanthe. I am bawling with crocodile tears here. Not to mention, the whole song is the whole goddamn base of this fic. It's an absolute mess because of my writer's block but Mika— MIKA— made me continue to write this. I used the english translation from the wiki and being creative by using it to give meaning to the fic. I will cry once the trans at en live will show up and not accept it. Warning: Messy writing. I'm fighting writer's block like how I fought my life.

It was sundown at Sky Garden. You are taking a small breather because of certain twins who saw you working hard as usual but caught you slowly blinking the minute away. Somehow, they brought you all the way here to Sky Garden and left you out there, all alone because of the Deputy Director summoned them for work reasons. You sighed. They were right. You are overworking yourself to the bone again. You were completely glad that someone who studied in the same Alma mater was there to help you. You remembered Valkyrie's previous live. Your words got caught in your throat the moment they performed. Of course, it was different from their rehearsals but the actual performance blew you away— like a kiss that will inspire your heart in this eternity. The song is so heart wrenching and yet, it touched you and held you, like these arms that will embrace you tightly in this eternity. And yet, their art is like a museum, their hermitage. A doll, who was able to dance freely with no strings attached, blew your heart and kissed you, in this eternity— You shook your head when your mind wandered and saw a pair of heterochromic eyes in your vision. You slapped your cheeks to remove those eyes in your mind. Sure, he was once a doll but he was given life by his own creator. He was more human in his performance, not like a marionette who was lifeless and controlled. It was such a sight to see that he was accepted as an artist by his own master, who was now his equal. Their past performances are artistic and yet your gaze remained to him, who was once a marionette at his own movements, was now a human. And that marionette, is Mika Kagehira, the novice artist. You spent days wondering how were you able to take a liking at this young artist, who graduated from a doll to his master's equal. It was always like this since the day your eyes stared at his heterochromic ones. Amber and sapphire gemstones sparkling beautifully under the ever-changing sky. Whether it's night or day, its always a wonderful sight for you to look upon. You sighed once again. You always knew that ever since the day you began to produce for Valkyrie. As someone who is always busy like Anzu back in the previous year as a producer in the Idol Course, you were able to understand what Valkyrie is like— from the past to the present. You stood up and began to dance, just like how Mika had done at Hermitage. You were amazed on how he interpreted the way on how the doll came to life. You remembered how Mika told you once that he was possessed by the doll. You couldn't believe that it actually happened and yet, it made you think that it was how Mika was able to adapt to his former self as a member of ex-Valkyrie and act the way he is as a member of Valkyrie in the present in his dance. While being perished in this longing and illusion You placed your hands on your chest and turned, as if your embracing the loneliness in your heart and hummed. While anticipating this sleeping Hermitage Graceful and beautiful, yet tragic and heart wrenching as it ended with a happy ending. That's how you describe Acanthe. Valkyrie's Acanthe. Someday, your heart will blow and you'll kiss me In this eternity

"Ngh... Sis Mado! Where are ya?" A voice called out from behind the building. "Sis Mado— Hm?" He stopped from the corner of the building and listened closely. His heterochromic eyes widen as he saw you singing and dancing Acanthe. Holding on to these rusted, broken, and lonely feelings Getting close to this person in Hermitage His jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes and thought if his eyes are creating illusions. 'Am I seein' things or 's it (Name) dancin' to ma part of the song?' He shook his head and look around to see if the little doll is within the vicinity. To his surprise, she was sitting on one of the benches near you. 'Good. She's here.' He sighed in relief. 'But how did Sis Mado got here? Someone must've took her. Was it (Name)?' He shook his head at his own question. 'No, t'was nearly impossible for (Name) to bring Sis Mado here...' "Someday, these arms will embrace me tightly..." He heard you all too well. "In this eternity..." His heart softened as you hit the notes all too perfectly that he sang along. He woke up from his short reverie when he heard her voice. "My, (Name), your voice sounded so lovely. It was pleasant to the ears, just like what Mika told me before." Madmoiselle commented at the performance you just did. Well, Mika couldn't lie when he heard you sang once. He was stunned when he first heard you sing back then when he waited for you in Valkyrie's practice room. He always saw you always talk and work that he began to wonder if you can sing or dance. And this was the second time he saw you did both. "Thank you very much—" You paused for a moment. That familiar voice made you turn around and you couldn't believe your eyes. Your eyes look down to the bench and see the petite little doll on it in a blue dress, pairing it with a blue ribbon tied on its signature blonde curly hair. "Ma-Madmoiselle?! How did you get here? Since when did you get here?" The doll chuckled, "I asked for a little help from someone and I was already here when you started singing." You walked closer to the doll and lowered yourself to her level. You curiously asked her, "A little help...?" You tilted your head a little. She answered, "Shu once heard you sang so he wanted me to see you and hear you sing." "He perhaps brought you here to know that I'm bad at singing." "Of course not. He was amazed that he heard you sang. Not to mention, your actions, pose, everything, is all a work of art, he said." You blushed at Madmoiselle's words. You felt like you're crazy because you're talking to a doll that Valkyrie rubbed a lot on you. It became a thing since last year, of course. You made an eye contact to the doll and exhaled in defeat. You were pretty sure that all of this is a coincidence— starting from the moment the Aoi twins took you out here for a break and Shu bringing Madmoiselle here and left her on the bench near you to hear you sing. What's next? Mika hiding from me behind the trees or behind the building? Your eyes widen at the thought. You thought if someone from Valkyrie is here that you stood up and sat beside Madmoiselle. "(Name), I may be a doll but I can tell you anything that you need to know." Madmoiselle said and you nodded. "What did Mika say about me?" You asked her and she answered, "Mika always describe you as hardworking producer. Sometimes he thought if you made a competition with Anzu here. He often told me that you're creative when he saw you that you can design clothes so well. He thought if he could bring your designs to Shu but you always hid your works in your bag the moment he saw you draw your sketches." "I—" You were absolutely stunned. 'Sis Mado?!' Mika froze on his spot and covered his mouth to prevent any noises to come out of him. He doesn't want his cover to be blown and get caught by you and Madmoiselle. He didn't expect that she'll tell the things that Mika told her and pass it on to you. "Mika may be a curious one and all but he has a lot to learn for himself. He never wanted to depend on Shu and learned to become independent for himself." The doll continued. Ah, right. He was like that when he thought of designing an exclusive outfit form himself when it was his turn to be given one. You smiled at his reactions when you saw him at the clothing gallery to sketch his designs. "I thought so, too." Mika heard everything and nearly fainted at your response. "Sis Mado... Ya don't even need to say anythin'..." You exhaled and looked at the doll and asked, "Madmoiselle, would you mind if I continue to sing. I felt comfortable singing in front of someone now." 'Or something...' The doll answered, "Of course." You cleared your throat and continued to sing. Reminiscent of this lingering fragrance of warmth You stood up from the bench and continued to dance. This time, it was Shu's part of the performance. Mika's eyes opened wide in surprise. 'She knew Teach's part?! Amazing...!' Once upon a time, this love was decorated with scars And they are the proof that we have transcended time itself "I shall never forget you even if you disappear..." Mika was so close on revealing himself from hiding and singing alongside you. He resisted but gave up as he snapped out of his thoughts to hide and revealed himself. Luckily, your back is facing the bench where Mika is so he took it as his chance to skip his way closer to you. Mika stepped closer towards you and danced alongside you. You were so immersed to the song that you didn't notice he was there just now. The singing voice is about to fade away Mika appreciated your voice ever since the day he heard you sing, the day he saw you danced, and the day he saw you create art. It was completely rare for someone like you who has hidden talent, could attract a young artist like him. Even if many times these feelings get lost He was glad that he performed alongside you, even if you didn't notice that he was here just now. Give in this spring, we shall repeat this love again You could feel the song as if it embraced you. You were right, it embraced you, like a person in a hermitage. It's as if the song carried your soul away and made you less distracted to your surroundings as if you didn't care who or what was around you. "With a kiss that will inspire your heart..." He held out his hand, as if to reach you. He smiled as you did the same. Your eyes widen when you took a glance beside you. His amber and lapis-like eyes glanced back in a moment to your own. They were beautiful, indeed. Your mind began to panic as he looked at you with such loving gaze with a genuine smile. "...in this eternity..." Your voice was caught in your throat that you heard him sing. You weren't dreaming. This is not a hallucination after an adrenaline rush, not an hallucination from overworking, and not an illusion or not a see-through item like glass. 'Mika?! The Mika Kagehira?! Of Valkyrie?! Oh, God... He's really here?!' You mentally panicked that you froze on the spot, mouth agape, and eyes open wide. "Hm? (Name)? Are ya alright?" Mika tilted his head in confusion. He checked to see if you're alright by poking your cheek and blood rushed up to your cheeks, giving out a pure blush, which was either out of pure embarrassment that someone saw you dance and heard you sing or you being flustered that the young idol you admire from afar is here and witnessed almost everything. Mika stepped back, surprised on what he saw. 'Move, you dummy! You always met him at Yumenosaki! Act normally!' You internally screamed to yourself but you couldn't move. "Ngh... Earth to (Name)? Ya okay?" Mika waved his hand in front of your eyes and looked closer. "She looks like a doll right now..." Mika said his thought out loud. He saw you slowly blink, once then quick at the second and twice and you're awake. "Good evening, Kagehira..." You uttered. You saw him staring into your eyes and you stared back as he greeted you back. "Good evenin', (Name)." Your eyes couldn't leave this staring contest that you were so sure that moment you were finally awake from the unknown reverie you felt after you felt your heart skipped a beat. You were finally back to your sensed that you stood up properly after the sudden awkward tension you felt between you two. You cleared your throat and asked him, "What brings you here at this time of hour?" "Ah, right. Teach asked me to look for Sis Mado because he might've misplaced her somewhere." Mika explained everything what happened and you nodded. He turn around to see Madmoiselle sitting on the bench and said, "Well, it seems I found her so I'll bring her back to Starmony Dorm." You look to where Madmoiselle is as Mika took her and gently carried her in his arm. "It's nice spending time with you even if it's a little, (Name)." She said sadly. "Likewise, Madmoiselle." You sadly replied. You look up to face Mika and excused yourself to leave since it was getting dark and you have to return back to the building. As Mika saw your figure disappearing into the distance, he held out his hand to reach you but failed when you're too far away from him. His smiling expression faltered into a gloomy one. Madmoiselle noticed this and decided to tell him everything what had happened today to Shu. Little the three of you know that someone was watching from the distance and witness everything that is being unfolded. As if the curtain had closed a moment ago, they had left the vicinity and returned to the dorm without making any noise or being seen by anyone close by.

The next day, you're in ES's clothing room and you're spending the day planning for the add-ons for the design for the next exclusive outfit while listening to Acanthe for the nth time of the day on repeat. You were relieved that no one here is interrupting you. You look around to see if anyone else is in the room and you sighed in relief. Satisfied and undisturbed, you began to hum the song while the melody is playing at your earphones. You forgot that the door is half-open that you saw a mop of dark green hair entering the room the moment you glanced. You ignored it and continued to hum. "Someday, your heart will blow and you will kiss me..." You were drowned in thoughts as the melody continued to clear your mind that you didn't notice someone was sitting on the chair near you. You look up to see who it was and the music stopped as you remove your earphones. It's as if he knew where you stopped singing, he continued it for you. "...in this eternity..." He looked at you the same way he looked at you last night in Sky Garden. He never failed to make your heart flutter once again with that innocent, child-like smile, those heterochromic eyes that somehow represents day and night, that dark green hair that you once saw it as black from afar but it revealed as a dark, burnt, emerald when close. "(Name), yer starin' again. 'S there somethin' in my face?" His words make you awake from your trance. You realized the close proximity you two had and the gentle warmth you felt on your forehead. It's so warm that you felt like sleeping and leaning on his touch. 'Was he always here whenever I sing that song...?' "I heard from Naru that yer overworkin' to the bone again. Ya really need to rest. Yer a human ya know?" Mika said with concern. He was stunned when he felt you leaning on to his hand that was on your forehead and fall forwards to the table. Luckily, he stopped you from falling to not to hit your head on the hard table. What's worse for you is that there are pens and pencils on it. His eyes laid down on your sketchpad but shook his head. '(Name's) priority comes first. Teach will be mad if he saw them like this again. Sis Mado will be worried...' "Ngh..." He groaned out of fear and worry. He carried you in his arms and headed towards the couch and placed you there, gently and carefully. Mika worried looked at you when he remembered himself, his past self and that made him worry even more. "Yer better rest (Name)." He quietly whispered, a volume that only he and you could hear. "Yer a producer. Everyone's rooting for ya. Ya don't need to overwork yerself." He inched closer to see if you're fully rested and you were. He stayed there and watched you sleep peacefully. He wants to whisper to you a lot of things but he couldn't say it. He loves you but he couldn't say it. It pained him and he knew that all too well. He knows that his emotions control him but couldn't do so anymore because of his days as a doll. Now that he is not, he still couldn't control it even it was an accident. Then, he gave up. "(Name)..." He whispered your name. "What if I tell ya that I like ya...?" He shook his head once again. He knew all too well that you're sound asleep and knows that you couldn't hear him. He ate a candy until he felt himself drifting off to sleep. Wave of exhaustion washed over him these past days. He is working hard for Valkyrie, of course. Your eyes fluttered open as you let out a low hum and try to remember where you were right now. The moment you saw his face right in front of you, you blinked once, and twice. Alarmed at the proximity between you and him, you yelped, which made the male jolt up from his sleep and fall back to the floor and hurt his back. "My apologies, Kagehira. Are you alright?" You immediately rise up and rushed to the male who was on the floor. You checked if he was hurt elsewhere until you heard him chuckle. You saw him smile as he scratched his cheek. "I'm fine. Nothin' to worry." You exhaled in relief. "Thank goodness..." You began to wonder why is he here and not with Shu and Madmoiselle. You checked the time at the clock facepalmed yourself. They left Japan minutes ago. "Right... Teach told me to check on ya once I return to ES after he left for his flight to France." Mika look away with a faint blush shown on his face. "The moment I got here, ya spaced out and sing the same song from last night. Ya really liked it, don't ya?" You nodded at his question. The same awkward tension you felt before is back again. You stood up and let out your hand. He accepted it and helped him to stand up. As he was finally standing on his own two feet, you told him to sit down and you apologized for scaring him. "Hm? It's okay. I was the one who supposed to be apologizin' here..." He said as he scratched the back of his neck. You leaned back to the couch and exhaled. You were exhausted and barely had enough rest these past few days. The only time you could relax is to be alone and to sing your heart out. Mika heard your sigh looked at you. He remembered something to make you sleep, as what Madmoiselle, Ritsu, and Arashi had told him before. "Don't tell me ya can't sleep well, (Name)?" Mika asked and you nodded. "Would ya mind if I sing for ya?" "I wouldn't mind..." Your words ended with a small yawn. He smiled and began to hum. 'Ah, it's the same song again...' You thought and you felt him pulling closer to you gently. He guided your head to lean on his shoulder and rubbed your arm with his hand as he lulled you to sleep. His voice may be melancholic, but it was gentle as light, giving its way in the dark. You were so sure that you heard someone whispering to you when you fell asleep a moment ago. You disregarded it and you muttered it out, as if to respond to that mystery person's question. "What if... I tell you that... I like Kagehira...?" Mika stopped his humming as he heard you said those words. It was too coherent that it caught his attention. He blinked twice. He was so sure he heard his name. He held you tight, but not too tight that will make you awake. Pink covered his cheeks and red began to spread all over. He covered his mouth to hide that goofy smile on his face. It was completely written as "(Name) like me? Did I heard that right?"

He began to remember your previous conversation with Madmoiselle back at Yumenosaki, when you visited the Handicrafts Club room. "He was able to express other human emotions that a doll couldn't have. One time, he was thankful that he was able to feel an another human emotion, other than pain, guilt, anger, and joy, and it's all because of you." Madmoiselle told you as you placed the decorations on the table. "Because of me? How?" You tilted your head as you asked her. "Because you are more human than you think." She answered. "Well, I am indeed a human." You replied. "I'm not a human if I don't feel any emotion." "That's what Tsumugi told Mika back then." She giggled and you nervously chuckled. 'What kind of doll is she...?' You sat down on one of the chairs near Madmoiselle and sighed. "Says the one who has a human knowledge..." Mika didn't mean to eavesdrop on you and Madmoiselle. He overheard her saying his name that he leaned closer to the door and listened closely. "Say, (Name), do you have hidden feelings towards Mika?" Mika nearly slammed the door open but abstained himself from doing so. "N-No...? Why?" You hesitantly answered. "Don't say that. I know you have that. You always look at him differently from others when you're doing your work as a producer here in Yumenosaki." She said. Mika internally panicked and leaned on the wall. 'I did tell her that...!' He heard you sigh. "Alright. You got me. I did have feelings towards him. I like Mika." You paused for a moment and remembered a rule that existed in the idol industry. "But idols and producers can't be together. It'll be better if I disregard these feelings and move on." You're right, even Mika just remembered that rule. "You can tell him that you do like him as (Name), not the you as a producer." Madmoiselle told you and you felt like falling from a cliff or burying yourself alive six feet under the ground. "It's unhealthy for someone to hide their own personal feelings and prevent it from overflowing— unless if they knew how to control it or preventing it from doing so. But in your case, you couldn't." You began to sulk because a doll told you that. A doll, a doll that has unknown human knowledge and it seemed like it was based on written literature that can be found anywhere in the world, a doll that was given great love and care, and a doll that was owned by an artist named Shu Itsuki. You sighed in defeat. Mika on the other hand, sunk down to his knees and felt like screaming his heart out. That was the day that he knew you felt the same. His mind wandered around and think. A questioned popped up in his mind and it repeated like a broken recorder. "When will be the time that (Name) will tell her feelings to me? When will be the time that I'll be able to confess to her?" His smile faltered. He knew that it was nearly possible. He did overheard you saying that you like him. He wanted you to say that in front of him soon. But he know all too well that you kept holding on to these rusted, broken, and lonely feelings you once called. He reached out to you, and came closer to you, the person in Hermitage. One day, if there is a time that someone will embrace you tightly in this eternity, it will come true. Right now, it already did. He will wait for you to speak out. He will wait for you to love him back. He will wait and always will.

It feels like years when it was actually weeks when he last communicated with you. You ignored him these past weeks and it pains him. Were you tired of spending time with him? Talking to him? Sharing your creative thoughts to him? Or was it something else? Then he finally knew why, a person like you, whose love was decorated with scars, became the proof that you've transcended time itself. You've fought and withstood everything that you forgot to love once again. He knew that you forgot to care yourself that you've became weaker than you always were. You prevent your feelings to overflow out of you and you gave up on everything. You avoided him because of these lingering feelings whenever he's near. You overworked yourself to the bone until you collapsed. Mika waited for you to talk to him again but his patience snapped like a thread when he heard that you're in the infirmary from Arashi. He rushed to the infirmary and to see if you're alright. He saw you, alright, sleeping peacefully but wasn't relieved when he saw your current physical condition. Your eyes that was full of life, turned dull and lifeless. He knows it even if it's closed. Your arms that carried anything with such strength, became thin. He was so scared to hold you that you might break. And your skin that was smooth and fair, became pale and dry. He still have time and he knows it. He sat on the chair beside the table and waited for you to wake up. Tears began to fall from his beautiful, azure and amber eyes. He weeped. He held your hand and gently squeezed it. You are so thin, thinner than you usually were that he was scared that you might break, like a porcelain doll. You indeed look like one but you seemed like you're on the verge of breaking. Mika waited and waited for you to wake up. Even on the middle of his work, all he could think of is you. Whenever Shu called him and Mika could only let out a small noise of guilt, Madmoiselle reassured him that you'll be alright once you wake up. He couldn't eat nor sleep well. Arashi and Ritsu comforted him. Including the rest of the Pretty 5. He is so worried that he was too close on ending up on the same condition as you and luckily, they prevented him from doing so. They help him stood strong for you and he wanted to do that to you the same. Days later, you woke up from your long rest. Your eyes opened to see the all-familiar white ceiling above you. Your hand feels limp yet the touch is sensitive from the warmth enveloped on it. You turned your head to see Mika sleeping at the bedside, holding your hand, as if not to let you go while waiting for you to wake up. You tried to call his name but your throat feels dry, like the drought in summer. You saw him waking up from his slumber and looked at you as he rubbed his eyes to stay awake. He pounced on you and hugged you firmly yet gently, not too tight and not too loose. "Yer back! I thought ya died..." He said as he began to sob. You pat his back for reassurance. He let you go and faced you. "Ya slept for four days! Everyone's worried about ya!" "..rry..." You tried to voice out but your dry throat won't let you do so. "You don't hafta apologize! It's not yer fault why yer like this!" "...t is..." You spoke out and tried to give moisture to your dry throat with your saliva. "Mi...ka... I—" "Not now, (Name). Ya hafta rest more." He cut you off as he gave you a glass of water. You weakly took it from his hand and drink it slowly. "I'm... sorry... I shouldn't—" "(Name), please..." Mika begged you to stay in the bed. "Mika, please, listen to me." "Talk to me after ya recovered. That can wait." He said as he assisted you to lie down on the bed. You held his hand to make him stay. You saw his eyes. He seemed hurt. You did as he said and kept your mouth shut but you didn't let go of his hand. You tried to tell him to stay but the other half of you wanted to tell him to go. So why? Why didn't you let him go? Silence remained in the infirmary. Mika stayed like what you told him to. Everything is too heavy for you that tears fell from your eyes. You couldn't let out the cry from the weight you've bear. It was too heavy that it's hard for you to let it all out. It was a silent one, indeed. Mika saw the constant flow of tears coming out of your eyes and comforted you. You immediately hugged him and constantly apologized to him. He was startled at your sudden actions to him. He became baffled on why you apologized to him. He didn't make a mistake to you or did any. "It's alright, (Name). Let it out." Mika whispered as he returned the hug you gave him. Soft sniffles and hics resonated in the infirmary. You wished that if only you could apologize to him properly and not like this someday soon.

Mika constantly visit you after his work. He took care of you even Anzu was there to bring you back to shape. From breaks to lunch and after work hours, he always visit you as you recover. Anzu scolded you for not taking care of yourself when she even did the same to herself. But in your case, it was worse than hers. Days passed and you recovered. You tried to return back to your work but Mika and Arashi stopped you from doing so. Even most of the units told you to rest just because you've recovered. Remembering that you're still a student, you ignored them and remained busy at your school works, which you were caught by a fellow producer of yours. That left no other choice for you but to rest and do nothing except for participating in classes, much to your chagrin. You sighed as you sat under the tree at the rooftop of the school building, where you could finally have peace. No Anzu stopping you from doing your producer work, no Ritsu tackling you down to the ground to make you sleep with him, and no Yuzuru to bring you to the student council office to have you drink tea with Tori and Mao. As the day was finally coming close to its end, you stayed there before leaving the campus to work at Ensemble Square. You lied down on the bench and felt the afternoon sun shining down on you. It was warm and gentle, just like how he held you back then. Your eyes shot wide open when you realized that almost everything reminded you of him. It annoys you almost every time. (W/N: ngl this happened to me all the time and I got sick of it.) You shook your head to remove the thoughts in your mind and rest. You felt peaceful once again and relaxed the you leaned sideways to see the late afternoon sky, shading from violet to orange. Just as you were about to close your eyes, a figure blocked the view and your scrunched your brows and nose up in annoyance. "I found ya." Mika sat down to your level and tilted his head to see you properly. That look of annoyance on your face just now disappeared and turned into a calm expression. How could you be mad when it's someone like Mika? "Ya seemed like yer like a cat who's about to kill someone? Ya okay?" Mika asked you out of curiosity? You questioned back, "Do I seem like one?" He nodded and grinned, "A cute one at that." You turned your body, making your back face Mika. You didn't want him to see that blush growing red on your cheeks. "Er, did I offend ya? Sorry..." He apologized and scratched his cheek. You immediately sit up and reassured him that you're not. The panicked look on his face turned into a relieved one. Cats are indeed cute, aren't they? You sighed. You cupped his cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb. You felt him leaning to your touch and slyly grinned. You felt your heart squeeze like how one would squeeze a lemon by hand. Your other hand went to his hair and petted his head. You felt him leaning closer and rested his head on your lap. A blush began to spread across your cheeks until it covered your whole face. "(Name)... do ya like someone...?" Your flustered self didn't hear that question that you subconsciously answered him yes. "Really? Who is it?" You felt your heart stop at his question that you tried to process everything. "Can you repeat your question, Kagehira?" You wanted to hear his question once again to make sure you're not hearing anything wrong. "I asked ya if ya liked someone. You said yes and I'm asking ya who." He look up to see your face and stared into your eyes. You look back and said, "If I tell you who, would you still sing with me again?" He nodded at your question. Your spirit waved the white flag and ignore what will happen to you if you sold your soul to a demon. Mika sat down beside you and waited for you to say who. You were hesitant at first but you gave up and confessed, "It's you... Kagehira." Mika blinked once, then twice and brazenly replied, "I thought ya hated me that yer always away from me these past days." You look away and lost eye contact with him and admitted everything to him. "The reason why I took distance away from you and increase my workload more is because I wanted to ignore my feelings towards you. Producers and idols can't be in a relationship, Kagehira. That's why I created distance away from you. I'm sorry." Mika hugged you tight. "No wonder... Now I know why ya kept apologizing to me at the infirmary back then." He patted your back and you felt your tears coming out of your eyes. It hurts to cry but another wave of tears won't hurt, right? That's it. You're now waiting for him to leave you after this. "To be honest, I felt the same so don't feel bad okay?" Mika whispered to your ear as you felt more tears flowing out from the corners of your eyes. A moment ago, it was sadness but now it was full of pure joy. You didn't expect him to feel the same as you do. You wiped your tears and you felt Mika making you lean on to him. Now that you admitted it, you told him, "You know... it's better if we remain as friends. I'm not ready to be in a relationship with you, Kagehira." "It's fine, (Name). I can wait for ya to tell me if yer ready to date me." You smiled at his response and laid your head on his shoulder. It was reciprocated, indeed. But no one knows if it will last long. You thought that it won't stay long after you confessed to him. There will be a time that you'll disappear in this world and never return and leave him behind. But there was one thing that you didn't know and that is he will love you like a warmth in spring and shall never forget you even if you disappear. Even if there's no end to the seasons that come and go, he will be there to accompany you and will always be with you. Even without a word coming out of you, he knows that there is a soul inside. With the tears you both had shed, he'll gently tie these and use them to tell a story. The story you shared and created with him in this sleeping Hermitage, where you were being perished in this longing and illusion, he inched closer and reached you while you're holding on to these rusted, broken, and lonely feelings. Your wish when someday that he, will blow your heart and kiss you, embrace you tightly, and with a kiss that will inspire your heart in this eternity finally came true.

W/N:

Don't judge me. I'm fighting writer's block like how my life depends on it. *Proceeds to continue my speech and draft for the clubworks* Anyways, before I could disappear again, I made two pics for the fic like

He's so beautiful and you cannot argue with me.

I even have to ask my ValkyrieP (+EdenP and Double FaceP) friends at discord to pick a pic and somehow, it ended up as a "SwitchP fighting for their life from ValkyrieP's at their natural habitat with their very own companions" sumthn like that.

Anyways, bye.

#written by herri #ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #mika kagehira #mika kagehira x reader #precious scrunkly made me write for him even on the misdt of my writer's block #midst #goddamnit #i didn't expect for this to be freaking long omg #enstars #enstars x reader

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galactic-pirates · 1 year ago

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OUAT: #6 , and Rumbelle, #8!

Oh yay! Thank you for the ask ❤️

6) which is my favorite platonic or familial relationship in this world

Obsessions wax and wane and it’s been a minute since Once ruled my brain. The first answer that came to mind was Regina and Henry.

Regina is fascinating and given Once’s… erm shall we say less than consistent writing (and that’s generous) I find it amusing having read a ton of writing craft books this year, that Regina is textbook for emotional wound and then a thematic positive change arc. We know what tipped her into being a villain and we saw the struggle to change, and that change started in her vault when she took the memory potion.

Think about it Regina wanted revenge, but her need was for safety/safety drawn from control as she had never had control over her life totally. Even as the Evil Queen she was more afraid than anything. The dark curse gave her revenge and control but they were drawn from the thematic lie. Because it came from the lie, it was a hollow ‘victory’ which the show lampshaded as a “hole in her heart” (a magical thing) but just as a person it’s an emotional wound.

When Regina got Henry she was grasping. She knew she needed to make a change but wasn’t at all ready to give up the lie/start the positive change arc. She got Henry for what he could do for her. Learning he was the legacy of her appointed nemesis - that was basically an anvil hovering threatening the security of the lie (dark curse revenge/control) - she could have retreated to the pain/darkness but instead she chose Henry AND she gave up the control by losing her advantage of foreknowledge. She could have prepared/been vigilant but instead she allowed her future self to be blindsided as the love for Henry was stronger than her fear.

Stronger than her fear. I mean how incredible is that.

I have often said that I think love is the ultimate expression of trust. Now this is getting long and so I won’t say much more but it would be negligent of me not to mention the true loves kiss that broke the second curse. Regina’s heart wasn’t in her chest - she wasn’t supposed to be able to feel, to love - and yet she loved her son so much magic answered. She had so much baggage and she had her toxic moments but she tried, and she did the work. When she fell into her mothers example, she realised and let Henry go, she broke the cycle.

I don’t know I just have feelings. Regina was not the biological mum, and media historically doesn’t treat them well, but Once generally did. If I had to say that any relationship formed the backbone of the show it would either be this, Regina and Henry mother and son, or it would be Rumple and Bae/Neal, father and son. Driving forces really.

8) if I'm most interested in fics about them that focus on fluff, angst, humor, smut or actual plot?

Hmm it would be between fluff or actual plot. Rumbelle rarely got to be happy and if canon won’t give me that, then fic can. But I do also like to see their issues resolved, and so their happiness is… earned isn’t the right word. But there are consequences when stuff happens and Rumbelle on the show were either kept apart, or shoving everything under the metaphorical rug. So yeah actual plot can deal with things the show didn’t.

#I answer things #once upon a time

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holy-puckslibrary · 9 months ago

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━ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — tradition!dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader wc — 3k synopsis — she's pretty when she pouts. even prettier when she cries.

note — while you don't necessarily have to, i highly recommend reading tradition before this, as they exist in the same universe. this semi-part two is from our feb slumber party!

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — strangely, a lot of angsty angst; sidney being... sidney (gracie's version); references to a past sexual encounter; not super descriptive smut (pretty tame for me ngl); panty sniffing teehee; voyeurism + f masturbation; kinda sorta exhibitionism/risky location; degradation/name-calling balanced out by some praise; orgasm control + denial, edging then overstim; dacryphila; cameo from two of my fav gentlemen ;)

A newly born fawn can stand within ten to twenty minutes of entering the world and is able to manage walking after several hours—albeit, rather ungracefully. With time, fawns do become more sure-footed and less likely to stumble or fall, usually experiencing pervasive wobbliness and frequent fatigue, which wanes over weeks. In the meantime, however, their weak limbs won't carry them very far.

A few feet of grass and pavement would be doable. Uncoordinated and slow, though not impossible.

But you are not a baby deer, regardless of how similar your strides may appear. A resemblance so uncanny that it's the first remark made by each and every party guest you pass on your trek up the driveway.

Overdid yourself at the gym, you fib with the limp, "Don't worry about it," swipe of your hand through the warm evening air. Either too oblivious or intoxicated, not one bats an eye despite the mountain of evidence piled on your face—and dripping down your inner thighs.

The shameless, self-satisfied sound of Sidney Crosby's amusement slipping through his fingers—ones which still carry a suspiciously tart scent—isn't helping but is just as easily overlooked.

As you stumble through the party, still bustling as ever, you begin to think he lied when he turned down your parents'—and his—street. When he said the punishment was over, that you'd earned his forgiveness. Just another empty promise strung together with hollow words from his silver tongue.

He was enjoying your misery too much for it to be accidental. Sidney wasn't overly affectionate or even that warm of an individual. Charming and magnetic, but never sweet or sentimental. It was something you were still grappling with, still trying to make peace with. He wasn't a monster, just cooly indifferent.

Which is why a (stupid) part of you expected some small benevolence after you opened your legs for him—again.

Like, for instance, returning your panties instead of pocketing them. Or, not making you mingle with half the town with your own shame sliding down past the hem of your skirt—what a concept!

It could be worse. He did say he planned to hang them from the rearview mirror or stash them in his center console. The chances of someone accidentally stumbling upon the sullied snow-white cotton were significantly lower, with them balled in the back pocket of his well-loved denim, than either alternative.

Sidney Crosby ruined your night and your mood, but worst of all, several orgasms. All because he didn't "appreciate" the silent treatment.

Hypocrite.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who flaked on your father's poker night.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who hadn't bothered to call, despite going out of his way to ask your mother for your phone number—lead on a job, my ass.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who brought a date to your parents' anniversary party, then scowled like someone shit in his Cheerios when an acquaintance of yours from high school wanted to walk down memory lane.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who crashed your attempt to escape his punitive glare of disapproval.

He was easy enough to ignore even if it was his car you were riding shotgun in. Plenty of buttons to busy yourself with and an endless array of distractions beyond the large tinted window. Sidney Crosby was little more than a gnat buzzing around your head. Unpleasant and obnoxious, but bearable.

Until the kind, naïve cashier complimented the "adorable couple," and, naturally, asked how long they'd been together. An innocuous question to which the older man scoffed, and promptly corrected her outlandish assumption, leaving her apologetically rosy-cheeked.

After setting the replenishment of bottles and cans in the backseat, you shut the Range Rover's door a bit too harshly. You weren't surprised to feel his displeasure boring into your temple as the engine hummed to life.

In no mood for a lecture, you cut off whatever prim, self-righteous bullshit he had to say at the knees, "You're pissed I slammed the door, I'm pissed you were a dick to the teenager who doesn't get paid enough to deal with your awful lack of tact. We're even, alright?"

"She speaks," was his astute, amused comeback.

He put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot with his hand braced against your headrest.

You couldn't stomach his inconsistent ambivalence a second longer.

Hands thrown up in defeat, frustration burst from your mouth. "Why are you acting like I don't exist? As if...as if—"

He waited for you to complete your thought, but it's one you'd never finish. You hardly allowed yourself to think it most nights. It shouldn't matter if you matter to him.

But the universe has a sick sense of humor.

"You're... confusing. I don't—I don't get you."

Sidney simply sighed, his eyes trained on the vacant road ahead. "You'll understand when you're older."

"Jesus, what's next?" You couldn't help but snort at the cliché throwaway line. "What I was your age...?' or 'Back in my day...?' I am on the edge of my seat, Mr. Crosby."

"Quit it. I'm in no mood to deal with your dramatics tonight, kid. I'm already at my limit with you."

The feeling was very much mutual.

"Make me."

A horrible, mocking sound erupted from the driver's side that made you want to curl into yourself and never unravel. The only thing worse than being ghosted, it seemed, was the outright rebuff of your advances.

For a long while, the only sound was the gentle, steady hum of the AC; Sidney wasn't a "radio person."

Eye-roll. You started to think you weren't a "Sidney person."

After your fourth or fifth—you'd lost count by now—Sidney looked at you in his periphery. His coal-black stare made you giddy in a way that made you feel equally as silly.

You hated wanting him more than you could ever hate him.

With an exaggerated sigh of his own, Sidney stuck out his hand. Palm up, directly over the center console.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" you spat, brows pinched in confusion.

You felt his growl in your ribs, but that twinge was nothing when compared to what his subsequent command did to your mind and body.

"Take off whatever excuse for undergarments you put on with in me in mind, and put them in my hand."

Time froze, and so did you.

"I won't ask again."

You don't make him.

You bunched your skirt up to the creases of your thighs without another peep, and your heart pounded so roughly in your ears that it made your vision blur and blacken around the edges. Nervous fingers trembled as they hooked into the delicate garment and pulled them down your thighs. As you lifted your rear, cold air flooded the intimate place, and you nearly lost your nerve. With the soft cotton stretched impatiently at your knees, your head whipped from side to side to scrutinize your surroundings. Then, with the coast as clear as it would ever be, you surrendered them.

He chuckled at your paranoia, finding it oddly endearing, and continued to do so even after his prize was secured, bundled safely in his clutches.

Mr. Crosby brought them to his face. He inhaled deeply, much to your chagrin, and he kept them squarely under his nose for three intersections in spite of your palpable embarrassment. There was more to blame your squirming on than just the chill of the air conditioning.

"Can you... like, not?" you mumbled as you shrunk into the passenger seat, mortified.

"What's the matter? Feeling shy?" He laughed into the creamy center of the fabric.

You swear his tongue slipped out, but it was too dark to know for certain. Your body didn't need confirmation to tremble. Out of discomfort... or fear...

Arousal?

"—you weren't five seconds ago when you stripped in my front seat for anyone to see. Or when you let me fuck you with your father on the other side of the door. Me, his best friend. But that's where you draw the line?"

You, quiet as a mouse, shifted uncomfortably on the cool leather until your gaze couldn't leave the neighborhoods blurring together beyond the dark glass.

Sidney Crosby wasn't the most delicate with emotions, but this was cruel even for him. You know he can see right through you, and to leverage your... whatever you feel just to belittle you for his own amusement wasn't something you thought to worry about. It wasn't a possibility you considered, but maybe you should've.

You don't turn at the sound of your name, but you do hum in acknowledgment.

"I'm not poking fun at you, kid, I promise."

The sincerity in his low timbre tugged on your heartstrings, and soon, your eyes were back on the opposite side of the SUV.

He wasn't looking at you, but his attention never split or wavered. "I asked you to do that because I'd been thinking about you—and the way your sweet pussy smelled—since Christmas. Five fucking months... tormented by the memory. I apologize if I took it too far."

Some emotion, one you could not bear to label, bubbled up your throat as you chewed on his words. Fearful you might be eclipsed by a shadow of doubt, you shoved it right the hell down in favor of your preferred fall-back.

"Make it up to me?"

You knew you were offering yourself up on a silver platter. And you did feel unsure about it—the action, the potential consequences, and the plethora of ways you would, more than likely, be hurt. However, when regret crept in, belated and benign, it hadn't mattered.

"Tempting. Later—if you behave. Right now, I want to watch."

Your stupid, malleable heart flipped over a cracked door.

Throat clenched, you gulped. "What about... Shouldn't you focus, I don't know, on not killing us?"

"Shouldn't you focus on the ache between those pretty thighs?"

One light change. From green to yellow and finally, red—that was all the time you required to heed Sidney's sardonic counsel and cave to your body's needs. That was how quickly you wound up with one knee hiked up and bent, resting against the soft material of the center console. Your eagerness displayed proudly, glittering as it caught in the streetlights that lead back toward reality.

Sidney Crosby had you halfway to spread-eagle in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle with your hands up the skirt he wanted to burn—and he refused to let you cum.

Every time you got close, he made you stop. A few times, he even barred you from touching yourself anywhere at all. He would coach you to the brink, pushing you closer and closer each time, but Sidney always stopped you short of the finish line. He repeated this pain-pleasure torture until you were sobbing at his side, a smirk splayed wide across the lower half of his otherwise stoic face.

"What's wrong?" He asked as if he cared.

"It's not—I need... I-I need more—need you."

You hardly recognized your own voice. Too pitchy and distant, you wouldn't have, if not for the way the words scratched your delicate throat as they came up. You choked on your own salty tears.

He liked making you cry a little more than could be considered healthy. But what he liked even more was how, even with the ability to take pleasure at your own hand, you wouldn't. You couldn't. You needed him—his approval, his permission, his touch. You were useless without him.

"Tough shit, slut," Sidney replied.

Free of malice, you would've considered the name affectionate—an endearment, almost—if it came from anyone else.

"You get what you deserve, and you haven't earned my fingers, let alone my cock. I'm damn sure of it."

You made a wet, woeful sound that almost made him pity you. Almost. If he hadn't been driving, he might have given in just to squeeze out more pathetic whimpers.

He was glad to have resisted the urge in the deserted parking lot to bend you over the hood of his car, and he was proud of himself for not jerking the car onto the shoulder to take you in the backseat. Sidney's resolve had dwindled significantly as the drive dragged on, chipped away by your sad eyes and even sadder sounds and the guilt he couldn't stifle.

Sidney couldn't give you what you wanted, but he could provide a substitute. A poor one, by both your standards, but you'd make do.

"Alright, alright. Quit your whining. If you want to cum tonight, you'll do the work yourself. Go on, big girl, you wanted to be grown so badly. Take care of the problem like a grown-up."

You listened, and you stumbled over the edge almost instantly.

Your fingers were desperate to make the best of a bad situation. A mixed bag, in reality, one you won't bother to sort through until it's unavoidable. And, before long, you were writhing into your own touch, imagining it was his instead like you have every night since he had you in the bathroom at your parents' holiday party.

Until headlights flashed, bright and commanding like the alarms that failed to sound in your head whenever Sidney Crosby was involved. Three fingers remained knuckle-deep when your body, still reeling from your latest peak, seized up in fear.

"Did I tell you to stop?" came his strict, no-nonsense censure.

Your head wagged; he knew your answer without needing to look.

He offers you the hand that took your panties from you. This time, though, you didn't need further instruction. As you suckled, his thumb massaged your warm tongue.

"Stop thinking. You don't have to worry about anything ’sides fucking your fingers the way you'd fuck mine, and sucking my thumb the way I know you'd suck my cock."

When he pulled to a stop at the red light, he took full advantage of the momentary reprieve. Sidney leaned so close, the heat of his lips pressed to your skin without ever truly touching you. It was pure maddens, but his words were worse: "—maybe I'll let you. If you're a good little girl and prove, you're worthy of the honor."

Tears streamed down your hot cheeks. The salty, silvery rivers glistened in the passing lights of house lights and other cars. Sidney's fingers twitched against the wheel as they resisted the urge to scoop them up and suck them down.

What a waste.

His thumb slipped from your mouth as your grip on his wrist and forearm slackened. Sidney braced himself for whatever trivial complaint you meant to voice this time.

"But... but I—fuck... N-No more... can't—can't do it, can't do another one. P-Please—don't m-make me..."

If he hadn't been so irritated, he would have found your garbled, sputtering mess of a plea humorous. Instead, he felt it was an inconvenience. Sidney did not understand why you were behaving like an insolent brat when you getting the attention you tugged his sleeve for.

"First, you beg for it, and now you're whining to stop. Which is it? Make up your mind and use your big girl words."

You did.

And you're still wearing the product of your repeated efforts nearly an hour later, your head as fuzzy as ever. Several times, your spaciness has been commented on or lightly joked about, but you lack the energy to give a shit. You're too out of it to even muster up annoyance.

Deciding to call it a night, you quietly slip away from your parents. They're too wrapped up in playing gracious hosts to notice, accepting overpriced, useless gifts and congratulations like it's their full-time jobs.

On the way to your bedroom, you're intercepted.

"There she is, Miss Master's Degree! How've you been, honey? Keeping out of trouble?"

You allow yourself to be scooped up by the younger of the two brothers huddled in a corner of the family room, and a genuine smile isn't difficult to find.

"Knock it off, Tommy," Mr. Miller chides after your feet have been returned to the ground. "You of all people should know how, and I quote, fucking lame the Adult World is. I'd be more concerned about her dying of boredom than getting into any trouble."

"Oh, don't worry. I've found ways to amuse myself," you reply with an easy laugh.

Neither catches the innuendo, but it reaches the intended audience.

Hearing the familiar grumble of ire, you politely excuse yourself. "I am so sorry, but I need to lie down. My head is killing me."

Mr. Miller's warm brown eyes glisten with paternal sympathy. He rubs between your shoulder blades. "Of course, sweetheart. You've had a crazy last couple of months. Stop by when you're feeling better, okay? Sarah and Ellie miss their favorite babysitter."

You smile and nod an affirmative before stepping away.

Your spot between the brothers is swiftly filled by two of their endless admirers, eager to chat up the introverted widower with two pre-teen daughters and his flirtatious veteran of a younger brother. You don't blame them. They were as easy on the eyes as they were to talk to, and, in a world of boys, two southern gentlemen were a rare commodity. A hot one, too.

The younger Miller wouldn't have caused any brows to rise if you brought him to Thanksgiving.

With your hand coasting over the banister, you find yourself wishing it were Tommy—or even Mr. Miller, you couldn't get off your mind instead of...

Shaking your head, you trot up the stairs, slipping into the darkness without a second glance. You weren't kidding about the migraine.

He waits fifteen minutes before disappearing into the same shadows.

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

Text

babygirl (explicit)

genre: the most plotless porn to ever porn, aka SMUT

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend claims the outfit was just for a tiktok - until you realize you're both very into it.

word count: 5k

contains: explicit sexual content ~*~*~ established relationship, jungkook is a tiktoker 🤪, reader is bisexual, jk wears a crop top/miniskirt/knee socks and makeup (and butterfly clips 😭), EXCESSIVE use of petnames especially 'babygirl', feminization, jk is literally the "i'm soooo shyyyyy" tiktok sound, 🚨 kink discovery/exploration/mild kink negotiations during sex 🚨 virginity kink/role-play (they pretend jk is a virgin) 🚨 daddy kink (reader is daddy) 🚨 gender swap role-play including terms for genitals (they call his dick a pussy and her pussy a dick ok ??) 🚨 praise kink and extremely filthy dirty talk, no condom use but idk assume protection bc they're dating and in lurve, also features nipple play, a blowjob, dick riding, cunnilingus, and come eating for good measure 😘

A/N: oh hi! it's been a minute since i've written something TRULY self-indulgent (or outrageously bisexual) so it feels good to return to my brand. i am going to ask that you please please PLEASE take a long hard look at the content warnings up there ^ before you pop this bad boy open. like i really do not wanna get one single rude ask about this story because i will go fucking nuclear 😂 for those of y'all who are into it- i love you, and i hope you fucking enjoy because reading this back was so embarrassingly hot to me that i had to hide my face in my shirt. gahhhhhh okay BYEEEEE

oh also: THIS is the tiktok that inspired this whole thing lmfao. it gave jungkook energy and so he basically makes his own slightly different version in this fic. kbye ✨

read on AO3!

~*~

The apartment is dark when you slip back in the front door, the way Jungkook likes it.

Ceiling lights make him cranky and overwhelmed, so your path to the bedroom is painted only in warm glow- a purple LED strip, a switched-on end table lamp, the blue cast from a forgotten PlayStation controller and the swirl of the screensaver over the TV.

You drop your boots at the door, socked feet padding down the hallway.

“JK?” It’s quiet enough to make you imagine an echo in your voice.

You’d promised your boyfriend an evening alone tonight while you went out with friends, which meant a morning of frustrated, huffy sighs, his bottom lip taking up permanent residence jutted out from his mouth in a downturned pout. You decided to let this one run its course, because they always do with him, the dips and swells of his fickle moods— he knows how to right himself again if given enough time and space to complain about it first.

By the time you were hovering over the dresser to put earrings in, Jungkook had seemingly worked the issue all the way out, smiling softly with his cheek smushed against the largest of the plushies on the bed.

“Think I’m gonna have fun tonight. Film some TikToks, maybe get a new video game.”

You’ve hardly been out an hour, so you know you should leave him to it, retrieve your wallet from the purse you forgot to switch it out of— the reason for the intrusion— and let him be.

But you love him. The thrill of sharing space hasn’t waned, even after nearly six months, and you want to steal a little affection before you head back to girls’ night. You can be needy, too.

“Babe?”

At the end of the hall, the hinges of the bedroom door creak as it opens just wide enough for Jungkook to poke his head through.

“You’re back early.”

“Forgot my wallet.”

His eyes are wide and blinking, glittering black in the dim light.

“Is everything okay?” You try a few steps towards him.

“I was making a TikTok,” he mumbles, said sorely, as if it’s a justification for bad behavior. And then the door swings open all the way and you take in the rest of him.

A short, flippy miniskirt sunk low, biting into his hips. A crop top, meant to be small, but obscenely so when stretched across the broad expanse of his chest. Long black socks hiked up over his knees, white stripes at the hem starting to slip, pushed down flexing muscles in his thighs as he shifts, legs crossing, one foot pointed to toe at the floor unsurely. He’s pretty-all-over and nervous.

“Jungkook,” your laugh stutters on an exhale. “Are those my clothes?”

The small silver hoops in his ears— those aren’t new— sway with a hesitant nod.

You’re close enough now to see the way he sucks his lip ring into his mouth, an anxious habit. There’s a rosy pink wash to his cheeks, the same color kissed over his eyelids when he blinks. Lashes that were already envy-inducing made darker and longer with mascara. Gloss dabbed in the center of his full, pinched mouth. Butterfly clips twined through wavy, artfully messy hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask,” he says quickly, lashes fluttering when his gaze drops to the floor, staring at his socks. “I didn’t— I swear I’ve never done this before.”

“I’m not mad, baby.” Your hands find his, clenched in unsure fists at his sides, and coax them open. “You look so good. This is for a TikTok?”

Jungkook nods, punctuated with a squeeze of your hands. You squeeze back. “Wanna see?”

His phone is on the nightstand in your room, plugged in to charge (“I was editing it on 1%”, he admits with a giggle), so you end up crowding in on his side of the bed, sharing one pillow, legs tangling together without thought. You tuck into his side, grateful for the absurdly long charging cord as you prop the phone between your bodies and press play.

At the start of the video, he’s in much more typical Jungkook attire: a baggy black t-shirt, tattoos peeking out under one sleeve, hands stuffed in the pockets of equally oversized cargo pants. He’s barefaced, too, pushing a mock-hurt expression beneath the text caption: Babe, I’m going out with the girls tonight.

When the beat drops, you immediately start to giggle as this skirted, made-up Jungkook takes his place, throwing up a peace sign, blowing a kiss, and at the last second, flexing his biceps as if to send a warning signal.

You press your smile into the crook of your elbow as you let the video loop once, twice more.

Jungkook opts not to watch, instead staring up at the patterns his star projector casts across the ceiling, hands folded behind his head— but once you pause the video from looping again, you catch his eyes roaming over your face. You recognize the look from when he’s shown you certain movies, the way he’ll regularly steal glances down at you on the couch curled up next to him, as if he’s seeing his favorite parts for the first time again through your eyes.

“I love it,” you announce as you place his phone on the nightstand and then roll back against his side, pushing up onto your hands. You use the vantage point of your kitten stretch to take in all of him, the long hard lines of his body, the exposed honey skin that he usually keeps hidden under shapeless black.

“Wow, JK. You’re so pretty, baby.”

Heat blooms in his cheeks, deepening the makeup there, tinting the tips of his ears pink. His feet point and flex restlessly at the end of the bed.

“Do you really think so?” Jungkook asks the question so timidly— it’s rare to hear him this unassured about anything.

“I mean it.” You trace a finger delicately over the hem of his— well, your— shirt, where it rests under the firm structure of his chest. His eyes drop closed as you run the whole of your palm down, admiring his duality: boyish and beautiful, defined muscles with an itty-bitty waist. “I feel like I just won the bisexual lottery.” A dreamy laugh bubbles up in him, his abs fluttering under your hand. “And this skirt looks so much better on you than me,” you murmur as you reach the band of it and keep going, your touch smoothing over the pleated fabric to get a good look.

A noise gets stuck in the back of Jungkook’s throat. “Fuck.” He laughs like he’s gasping for breath.

You drag your gaze back up his body, and his eyes are shut tightly, crinkling at the corners for the effort. “Jungkook?”

The flush in his face is now an uncontrolled burn. He’s outright squirming, thighs flexing to cinch together, knees lifting off the bed so he can press the soles of his socks flat to fidget against the sheets. His fingertips tug at the hem of the skirt as his motions cause it to ride up, just barely. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been hard since I put it on. Was hoping it would go away by now.”

“Baby.” You say it softly, and you watch him untwist a little, long eyelashes flickering open again. “Why do you want it to go away?”

“I—I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

You reach up to brush a loose strand of hair off his face, careful not to disturb the glittery clips. He chases after your hand to lean into your palm, and your thumb strokes over his cheek as he nuzzles in. A warmth has started to pool, low in your belly. “I don’t think it’s weird at all. I think it’s hot.” Jungkook hiccups another laugh, attempting to hide his face between your hand and the pillow.

“Can I touch you, baby?”

The question stills him. Big moon eyes blink up at you as he nods.

When you curl your fingertips under the band of his skirt, Jungkook gasps through parted glossy lips and nearly chokes on a hard swallow. You pause, considering. Your boyfriend is far from the silent type in bed, but you’ve never seen him like this— you’re usually the one coming apart at the seams at his filthy stream of words as he splits you open: that’s it baby, take this cock, so fucking tight for me, god fucking damn.

“Only if you want it,” you remind him, in case he needs to hear it.

“I do,” he breathes. “I really— I don’t know why, ah—“ His sentence dissolves on another breath in when you gently scratch your nails over the curve of his hips. “—w-why I’m so nervous.”

“It’s cute,” you admit with a giggle. You flatten your palms to slide back up the narrowing slope of his waist, smooth tanned skin shivering under your touch, until you find the hem of his crop top again. “I really like you like this, JK. All nervous and blushy. Babygirl is shy.”

The way Jungkook tips his head back on the pillow and whines at your words makes you think you might be onto something.

“Do you like it when I call you babygirl?”

He bites down on his bottom lip, hard enough to deepen the shade of it, and nods.

“Tell me,” you coax, teasing at the hem of his top, encouraging him with the promise of a reward. “I wanna hear you.”

“Y-yeah. I like it. Like being your cute babygirl.”

The words go straight to your core, and you throw a leg over his hip to properly straddle him, bracing your arms on either side of his head to swallow up his responding whimper in a heady, open-mouthed kiss. Jungkook answers just as fervently, tongue sliding along yours, his hands clutching at your shoulders as if to plead for more.

He’s panting when you pull away, shuddering gasps punctuated by a moan as you suck at the underside of his jaw, a purple bruise blossoming beneath your teeth. “My babygirl,” you echo against the hollow of his throat. “All mine.” Your hands move eagerly, pushing the thin strip of fabric across his chest up to reveal soft brown nipples framed by the swell of his pecs. “And you have such pretty little tits, baby.”

You cup one in your palm, dipping down to lick a lazy circle over the nipple of the other. Jungkook full-body shivers, feet kicking softly down on the mattress, and you suck the bud between pursed lips, working gently with tongue and teeth until it hardens in your mouth.

“F-fuck,” he whines, arching up into you, fingertips dragging down the bedsheets. “Feels so good.”

You drop the stiffened peak from between your teeth, shifting to kitten lick at the other and taking advantage of the opportunity to grind down against Jungkook’s hips, already restlessly horny for this new side of him. “So sensitive,” you purr between flicks of your tongue as Jungkook whimpers beneath you. “Are you a virgin, babygirl?”

He hiccups on a moan as you tease his other nipple to attention. “Oh my god, fuck. Is it bad that that’s hot?”

You pull away to climb back up his body and seek a kiss from his pretty pouty lips. “Not bad, baby. You’re perfect, okay?” He makes a soft noise of acknowledgement and you gather up his chest in both hands to lovingly squeeze at his barely-there tits. “My dream girl. Can’t believe nobody’s ever touched you like this before.”

The swirling colors of the star projector on the ceiling of your bedroom reflect back at you like galaxies in his eyes— it’s enough to make you dizzy. The question comes out paired with a dazed, love-drunk giggle: “Would you let me fuck you, babygirl?”

Jungkook’s brow furrows slightly. “I—I don’t—I’m not ready. For anal,” he says quickly.

Coming out of the role-play a bit, you bring both hands to cradle his face between your palms, thumbs rubbing at the hinge of his jaw to encourage him to relax, to breathe. You can feel the hummingbird thrum of his heartbeat under your fingertips. “That’s fine, baby. Not asking you to. I just said it ‘cause it’s hot. We’ll fuck like normal, okay?”

A shy smile returns to his face as he blinks up at you, wide-eyed, lips parted. “Yeah, okay.”

“Do you want to keep going?” When he nods in your hands, you duck down to leave a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’m so lucky, I get to fuck such a pretty girl.”

A hand slips between your bodies to tweak one of his nipples between your fingers, and Jungkook throws his head back and cries out at the feeling. His hips roll up as he squirms beneath you, and you tighten the grip of your thighs around him at the welcome friction. You can already feel that you’ve soaked through your panties.

“Just, hngh—“ Jungkook whimpers, wrecked and needy, jerking up towards you again when you give the same nipple another soft tug. “Go s-slow with me. Since it’s… my first time.”

You shift to one side and he willingly splays open for you, knees bent and legs spread wide. You can hardly hold back your own groan at the state of him: mouth full and pink, eyes heavy-lidded and black with lust. His palms are pressed innocently over the fabric of his skirt, but you can see the way he’s starting to desperately rut up into his hands.

You bite down on a devious grin. “Yeah, and you’re such a good girl. I bet you kept it nice and tight for me.”

“Fuuuuuck,” he whines loudly.

Teasing a hand under the hem of his skirt, you’re surprised to find nothing but smooth, bare skin all the way up. “Oh, no panties?” Your gaze trails along his body from where you’ve settled on the mattress between the heat of his thighs, until you find his eyes with yours. “Are you a little slut?”

There’s a flash of something in Jungkook’s eyes as he goes still, whimpers softening to uneven breaths. He tugs his lip ring into his mouth in that familiar way, then gives his head two quick shakes, firm enough to shift a few waves in his hair.

“No?” You try again. “You’re a good girl, huh? You want praise?” When he nods, you gently caress the muscles of his leg under your touch, giving a loving palmful squish to the soft skin at his inner thigh. “Talk to me, baby. Please?”

“I want praise,” he murmurs. “Wanna be good for you.”

“You’re so good, baby. Thank you for telling me.” As if in reward, your hand finds his cock, fully erect and pressed obscenely into the flimsy fabric of his skirt. He hisses when you run a finger delicately up his shaft, tracing the fat, sensitive vein there. “You just wanted to make it easy for me, is that it?”

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, painted lashes nearly dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. I’m good. Your good babygirl virgin—“ He gasps when you wrap your hand around him for one slow pump, and it’s like your touch opens up something inside of him. “—with the tightest fucking pussy.” His cock throbs in your palm when he says it.

The filthy words spark a licking flame in your gut and a drip between your legs. “Fuck yes you are.”

You can’t spend a second longer teasing him— your free hand moves quickly to flip his skirt up over his hips and you drink him all in, hard and thick and pressed flat to his abdomen. “God, and your pussy’s just as pretty as the rest of you, baby.” The head of his cock is slick, glossed shiny with precum, and you run your thumb along his slit as more beads up, threatening to spill over and pour down his shaft. “You’re so wet for me. Can I eat you out, babygirl?”

“Please,” he moans.

You lean down to drag your tongue over the tip, to lick up the sticky-sheen there. With a little noise of appreciation, you take him into your mouth, suckling at the head of his cock and enjoying the warmth and weight of it on your tongue.

Jungkook is a whimpering mess, coming undone underneath you, and he throws an arm over his face to smother needy sounds into the crook of his elbow. As much as you’d love to see his wrecked expression, something about the way he tries to hide from the pleasure is working for you: it adds to this blushy-squirmy-shy virgin babygirl thing that has your thighs sticking together with how much it’s turning you on.

“Ah, that feels so fucking good,” he gasps, and you suck down more of his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you go. He’s emboldened now, either from not having to look you in the face or from the heat of your mouth enveloping him, the firm rub of your tongue over his frenulum. “Your mouth on my pussy, on my pretty little cunt, hngh.”

The way he’s talking has you practically humping the bedsheets beneath you, slow jerks of your hips that have the added benefit of pushing his cock into the back of your throat. You gag slightly around him but refuse to let up, humming around his shaft in a wordless request for more.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook groans as you take him deeper. “Fuck yes, so good, daddy.”

It takes a second for you to process the word, and then you pull off with a wet pop, swiping away strings of drool with the back of your hand. “Mmm—you want me to be daddy?”

At first he can only manage a soft whine, legs shifting restlessly over the bedsheets at the loss of contact. He nods his head, then finally whimpers his answer. “Y-yeah, I want that. Please, daddy.”

“God, you’re so hot.” You pause to press a kiss to the sharp jut of his hip bone, purring your question against the blush in his skin, glowing warm all-over. “Do you want to take daddy’s cock now, babygirl?”

You’re already starting to strip, discarding your shirt and then your bra off the edge of the bed as he bites down on his lip and nods. “Want it so bad, daddy. I’m ready.”

Horny enough to be nearly delirious, you both dissolve into giggles as you fight to get your jeans off— Jungkook helps you wrestle them over your ankles, your ruined panties following in quick succession while he peels his pushed-up crop top all the way off.

You crawl up the bed to capture his mouth in another kiss, sucking on his bottom lip as you straddle yourself over his hips and take his cock in your hand.

“Nice and slow, okay?” You murmur as you start to stroke him, and he nods again, head tipping back against the pillows. “We’ll stretch that pussy open. Hold my hand?” Your free hand reaches for him while the other keeps working his cock, and your fingers intertwine. “I want babygirl’s first time to be special.”

Jungkook looks at you like you hung the moon. “I fucking love you.”

With a small smile, you brush your lips lightly over his ink-dyed skin, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles, his thumb, the back of his hand. “Love you more.”

Then you push up to hover over him, use the hand wrapped around his cock to guide him to your entrance, and start to slowly sink down.

He’s thick enough that you’d have to take it slow at first even if he wasn’t playing virgin, but you’re so slick with arousal that the stretch is only delicious. “Fuck, baby,” you groan as you bottom out on him, your knees bracketing him to sink into the mattress. “How does it feel? Doesn’t hurt does it?”

“N-no,” he whimpers, hips lifting eagerly up towards you, clearly desperate for friction. “’Sgood.”

“Can I move, baby?”

“Please. Fuck me, daddy.”

“Yeah, baby, you’ve been so good to save it all for me. Gonna give you daddy’s cock like you deserve, my good girl.” You flatten one hand against his chest and start to move, your other hand still laced in his.

Jungkook’s eyes roll back in his head as you rock along his length, your pussy flooding stored-up wetness down his shaft and making an audible squelch with every stroke. You can’t recall ever being this turned on in your life.

When you find the angle where his head rubs firmly over your g-spot, you gasp, squeezing his hand tight.

“Shit, baby.” You start to ride him rougher, lifting your hips to bounce on his cock, right there, again and again. The pleasure makes your head spin and your mouth run wild. “Your tight little pussy takes daddy’s cock so well. It’s gonna be a custom fit by the time I’m done with you, made to take me whenever I want it, fuck.”

Jungkook’s whimpers have blossomed to full, airy moans, and he flattens his feet against the bed so he can buck up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. “Oh my fucking god.”

His cock twitches inside you on a particularly hard thrust, and you can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s already close, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he desperately tries to hold off his orgasm. You’re so desperate to see him come all the way undone that you can’t even care to wait for yours.

“Yeah,” you groan, “I can feel your pussy squeezing me, babygirl. Gonna come? I want you to. Wanna feel you come all over daddy’s big cock.”

His words slur together in a fuck-drunk rush. “Oh my god, y-yeah, please fuck me, daddy, fuck me, fuck me—“ His thrusts grow sloppy as he reaches his peak, and you refuse to let up, untangling from his grip so you can press both hands into the mattress to fuck him relentlessly.

“Take it, baby,” you practically growl. “Be a good girl and take this cock and come for daddy. Come for me and then suck me off.”

“Daaaaaddy,” Jungkook wails loudly and throws his head back, hips jerking violently as he comes. You can feel his cock pulse through his orgasm and the thick, warm ropes of his cum that spill out inside you with every throb of release.

You don’t even get a moment to still yourself and catch your breath before he lunges: he hooks his hands under your knees and yanks you onto your side so fast that you hit the mattress with a yelp of a laugh.

“Jesus, Jungkook!” His only response is to spread you open and attack your pussy with his mouth like he’s hungry for it. The flimsy miniskirt is still pushed up over his hips, so you can see the pert curve of his bare ass in the air as his tongue dives into your entrance.

He’s clearly still too deep in post-orgasm haze to start off precise as he drinks his own cum out of you with long, sloppy licks, grunting and gasping into your pussy like breathing is an afterthought.

“Oh my god,” you moan, your hips jerking against his mouth as he runs his tongue along your sensitive walls.

Once he's cleaned you out and his nose, lips and chin are all shining with slickness, he drags his tongue up through your folds to circle your clit, and three of his fingers find purchase in your cunt, replacing the loss of his cock. He starts to rock them fast and hard against your g-spot, and the mess of his cum that was fucked up too far for his mouth to reach dribbles out of you, running down his wrist, all wet and noisy as he pushes it back in again.

The pleasure is immediate and overwhelming, and when he sucks hard on your clit, arousal blooms heavy in your gut, enough to have you babbling.

“My god, fuck, baby,” you groan, back arching off the bed and fingers twisting in the sheets. “You got s-so fucking good at sucking cock while you were— hngh— while you were saving your pussy for me, huh?”

Jungkook whines loudly, open-mouthed against your cunt, the pace of his tongue and fingers only getting more insistent.

Your orgasm starts to crest hard and fast, and you tighten a hand in his hair, knocking a few butterfly clips loose in your urgency, in how fucking close you are. When you glance down at him, just the sight of how eagerly he's working your pussy is enough to send you over the edge.

“My pretty perfect girl,” you rasp as he pounds into you over and over, lips and tongue relentless on your clit. “Perfect pussy. Perfect mouth. So fucking good for daddy. Gonna come in your mouth, pretty girl, so you can swallow my load—ohhhh fuck, fuck—“

You cry out as your climax hits you full-force, makes your thighs shake and your toes curl and your pussy pulse around Jungkook’s fingers. It feels like you’re coming forever, in endless shuddering waves, until you start to writhe with overstimulation, and he finally pulls back when you release your grip on his hair.

You can’t do anything but collapse against the mattress with your eyes closed, completely dazed, and attempt to remember how to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” you manage to gasp.

There’s a soft shifting sound, and then you feel the weight of Jungkook laying down next to you. You’re both sideways, feet dangling off the edge of the bed, but you roll towards him anyway. The AC kicks on, and a shiver ghosts over the sweat that’s gathered behind your knees as you press your cheek into his chest.

“You really did like it?” Jungkook’s question surprises you, and you blink your eyes open and look up to take in the nervous expression on his face.

“I loved it, JK. That was so hot. I didn’t even know you could get like that. All… sensitive and responsive. But like, shy. Oh my god. I meant it when I said I liked this side of you.” You hitch a leg over him as he pulls you closer into his side, and you continue, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek with your palm. “I’m literally bi. That means I like you as my boyfriend, or girlfriend, or anyone in between.”

You can feel the heat under your hand when he blushes. “I think I maybe want to be both, sometimes. But, agh, I don’t know.” He squirms unsurely, and you brush your thumb over the line of his jaw.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know. We can figure it out.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and then he promptly turns away from you, rolling over in an attempt to bury his face in the mattress with a soft giggle.

“Hey, don’t hide! Come back here,” you laugh, rolling yourself on top of him, so your bodies press together all the way down. You grind your hips against him a little to tease, jolts of stimulation jumping through your still-sensitive center, and your eyes widen.

“Baby, are you—“ you glance down and confirm it, the thick outline of him pressed tight under his skirt and dripping a wet spot into the fabric. “Already?”

Jungkook pulls his lip ring into his mouth for a second before he admits it. “All that cocksucking stuff you were saying.” Even the tips of his ears are red now, in equal parts shame and arousal. “Just… crazy fucking hot. It made me get hard again so fast.” His feet kick softly down on the bed. “Ngh, it’s embarrassing, stop looking.”

You swallow his whimper with a gentle kiss, your tongue swiping lightly across his pouty lower lip. When you pull away, you dust a few loose strands of hair off his forehead. “Do you want to keep going?”

He nods, and you breathe a laugh.

“Well, give me a second and we can go for round two.” A hand snakes under his skirt, and you do your best to cup his ass beneath you, eventually having to settle for scratching your nails lightly over the outside of his thigh. “Just want daddy’s cock all the time now that you’re not a virgin anymore, huh?”

He outright moans into your mouth when you lean in to kiss him again, before turning his head away to mutter shyly as you lick a stripe up his neck. “Gonna make me come in my fucking pants.”

“You’re not wearing pants,” you giggle, and then you gracelessly roll off of him. “Let me just text my friends first so they know I didn’t die.”

At the mention of your friends, Jungkook whines and forces a small pout as you fumble for your phone on the nightstand. “I feel bad. You were supposed to be with them tonight.”

You scoot back to sit next to him on the bed and rest one hand on his thigh as you pull up your group chat on your phone. “Don’t, baby. I’m where I wanna be.” Your hand sneaks a little higher, cupping at the firm bulge between his legs over the fabric of his skirt, and you can’t help your nasty grin. “I’ll just say something came up.”

“Stoppppp,” he persists, grabbing a pillow to hide his face in, but you don’t miss the way his cock twitches under your palm.

With the text quickly composed and sent, you drop your phone back on the side table and proceed to crawl on top of him again. He pulls his shield away to stare up at you, blinking those wide, bottomless, good girl-fuck me eyes.

Your adoration of all that he is hits you like a fucking train. “There will be other girls’ nights,” you murmur, eyes roaming over his beautiful face. “There’s only one girl I need tonight.” It’s fucking corny, half role-play and half serious, but you mean every word, and it seems to melt away some last bit of reserve in Jungkook that you couldn’t quite reach before.

He blushes all over, wraps both arms around your neck, dots every inch of skin he can reach with soft, glossy-wet kisses. “Love you, love you, love you.”

“Love you more, babygirl.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x y/n

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dreamgrlarchive · 4 years ago

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Self Care 101 🦋

In this post I’ll be outlining my current routines as they relate to self care. I’ll cover everything from head to toe making sure not to skip your spirit. You cannot be a girl of ANYONE’S dreams if you aren’t taking care of the most important person in your world: you.

mornings:

wash face with gentle cleanser from curology, tone with organic Mamonde rose water and finish with rich moisturizer and spf30

brush teeth with activated charcoal toothpaste by Crest and baking soda for whitening and gum clarity

take vitamins : woman’s one a day, hair skin nails, biotin, vitamin c

drink glass of water then a cup of tea

black tea, raw cane sugar, a lemon slice, ginger

good for energy, immune function, and detox

showers:

this may sound so extra (😅), but depending on my hairstyle, I sometimes like to let the shower run for about five minutes with the door closed to create a sauna effect. this is especially if I have a mask on my hair.

my showers usually are about 20-30 minutes

I have a back brush, pink exfoliating gloves, a loofah, and tree hut body scrubs and I use them ALL.

I wash first with my dove beauty bar to assure clean skin before washing with EITHER my OGX Shea So Soft body wash or Dove Renewing Peony and Rose Oil body wash to add scent or silkiness to my skin.

hair removal:

I haven’t yet mastered the art of waxing myself so I’m still riding the shave wave. *when I do I’ll make a post 4 that*

I exfoliate throughly before AND after shaving

I shave my entire body using Tree Hut Shaving Oil and a nice conditioner I’m not using. This leaves my skin super soft and silky and helps the razor to glide without skipping. I use Gillette Venus. no less than five blades, anything less is ASKING for nicks and a hard time.

when I don’t feel like shaving, I use Nair. use at your own risk. yes, I Nair my ENTIRE BODY. only leaving it on for about 7 minutes I rinse in WARM (not hot) water and exfoliate afterwards. it is imperative to moisturize after to avoid irritation. however, Nair is much easier to do than shaving and seems to last an inkling longer.

after shaving, once a month, I pull out my KENZZI. it’s an IPL device and it has helped to slow the growth of my hair. it’s noticeable for us long, thick haired chicks. I use the second to lowest setting as a melanated babe, as the higher settings could burn me.

I know many endorse the hair on women movement and I can understand it. But I personally love my skin silky, hairless, and smooth.

nights:

after eating dinner, I wash my face and apply the tiniest bit of glycolic serum and my curology night cream. my skin has been the best it’s been in a few years. then I brush my teeth and rinse with peroxide.

every four days I give myself a facial

my favorite face masks:

The Ordinary Salicylic Acid mask

The Ordinary AHA + BHA mask

all Tony Moly sheet masks *luvvvvv those*

GLAMGLOW SUPERMUD clearing treatment *fav*

Peter Thomas Roth Pumpkin Enzyme mask

Peter Thomas Roth Cucumber Gel mask

Peter Thomas Roth Irish Moor Mud mask

Peter Thomas Roth Rose Stem Cell Bio-Repair Gel mask

ORIGINS Clear Improvement mask

An at home honey and aloe mask

I apply a rich facial moisturizer and get to bed.

I then write in my planner my new plans and what I did that day if I hadn’t already. then after that I script and make mood boards in my diary. then I read a little. currently reading: Making Faces by Kevyn Aucoin, and Live Like a hot Chick by Jodi Lipper.

emotions:

I talk to my grandmother about my feelings, she helps me sort things out. please try to find one person you trust to talk to, my messages are always open. 💓 I often overthink. I suffer from anxiety and clinical depression. sometimes these things make me FEEL limited. these experiences wax and wane. I remind myself that the darkness is temporary.

I write in my diary what I feel and track my emotions for potential patterns. I don’t manufacture or sugar coat my feelings, I just talk.

sometimes you need a good cry. let it out. clean your slate. you’ll always feel better, sometimes great after a hard, deep sobbing cry.

I try to get out of the house and get some sunlight. it helps brighten my mood sometimes.

baths:

LOVE taking baths I don’t care what the status quo is about dirt. just rinse off. I love wrapping my hair up and soaking in warm-hot water.

first I run the water. as it’s running I add my bubble bath, then body wash, then my Shea Moisture fragrant coconut oil. it smells soooo good, literally yummy. then I inevitably scream from dipping my toe in the hot water. finally I get in, scrub down my body, emphasis on feet. then I wash, and just relax. I’ve even fallen asleep in the tub once, I was so zen.

careful not to soak too long or overdo it with your products. synthetic materials lingering in your lady bits for too long cause cause infections like bv or uti

some women add tea tree oil, acv, or even Aztec clay to their baths for wellness purposes. I love adding essential oils to my baths to relax and the natural scent is just great 🥺

when I get out I always put something that feels lush and soft on. *invest in super soft, comfy bath towels, they’ll make you feel so luxurious and soft after a nice relaxing bath*

flower:

the yoni is something sensitive that needs to be taken care of thoroughly, and differently than the rest of your body. it’s not recommended to use soaps down there, it can unbalance things and make you itch. also make you prone to infection. this is why I use clear warm water to clean. if I use soap it’s a sensitive, gentle formula. don’t ever try to clean the cavity. she’s a self cleaning vessel.

to shave, I trim my hair down as close as possible and use a FIVE BLADE razor with conditioner and take my time. making sure not to pass a spot twice, I apply moderate pressure and move slowly. when finished I rinse and scrub gently. I PAT not rub dry. to finish off I apply TendSkin, and salicylic acid to avoid ingrowns. once that’s soaked in I apply shea butter. very soft and pretty 🌸

⚠️ DO NOT PUT ON TIGHT PANTIES OR RIGHT PANTS AFTER SHAVING. it restricts the hairs and causes irritation and ingrowns. throw on some comfy loose shorts for a while, let it breathe

dietary needs:

drink plenty of water

cranberry juice

vitamin c

minimal red meat

probiotics

at home vagacial for the high maintenance girlies:

*make any necessary extractions with pointed and slanted tweezers *

scrub:

brown sugar, tea tree oil, a little shea butter

exfoliating and anti inflammatory

mask:

baking soda, fresh lemon juice, vitamin e oil, papaya juice, gelatin

fixes discoloration and brightens the skin while softening

moisturize:

aloe vera gel, rose hip seed oil

smelling sweet:

ah yes, my favorite part. I love fragrance so much. I love to smell like you could literally break off a piece of me and eat it.

I find that using fragrant washes and oils make your scent more strong and help it linger. I already mentioned the body washes I use. the tree hut scrubs I use smell amazing also. I alike to add essential oils and man made scents like strawberry and chocolate to my Shea Moisture oil (so yummy).

I also use a fragrant lotion, eau de parfum, and fragrance mist.

here’s a list of some of my favorites:

perfumes:

jimmy choo fever

coach floral blush

yves saint laurent mon paris

victoria’s secret bombshell

victoria’s secret scandalous

valentino

fragrance mists:

victoria’s secret velvet petals, pure seduction, warm and cozy

bath and body works a thousand wishes, fiji pineapple palm, warm vanilla sugar, black raspberry vanilla

oils:

coconut

sweet almond

peppermint

chocolate scented essential oil

strawberry scented essential oil

orange

grapefruit

eucalyptus

sweetest combo ever:

vanilla extract, coconut oil, shea butter, and your favorite perfume. you’ll be smelling like a warm cupcake with extra sprinkles and icing 🧁

layering:

oil, lotion, eau de parfum, mist

pulse points:

inside elbows and knees, in between thighs, inner arms, behind ears, back of neck, ankles

hair:

it’s super important to keep your hair moisturized. quenched tresses move, grow, shine and bounce. dry hair is limp, lackluster, and extremely fragile

my fav diy deep conditioner:

a banana, half an avocado, three spoons of honey, an egg, a spoonful of mayo, a spoonful of coconut, olive, and castor oil each

strength from egg, avocado, mayo and olive oil

moisture from avocado and honey

cover damp CLEAN hair and scalp in mixture and cover with a plastic bag, then towel for an hour, rinse thoroughly, and seal in moisture

fav hair products:

castor oil

fusionplex conditioner and mask

Aussie conditioner

wella goji berry mask

coconut oil

style booster edge control

helpful tips:

when shampooing, concentrate on the scalp and wash thoroughly twice, as the suds will naturally cleanse your stands without drying and stripping them

rinse hair with apple cider vinegar every now and then. it restores your ph balance, smooths the cuticle, clarifies the strands, and adds shine

always add oil and leave ins to DAMP hair, never dry; this will ensure you’re sealing in moisture

try to use smooth fabrics to dry your hair, bath towels encourage frizz and breakage

hands and feet:

and last but not least, let’s cover manicuring and pedicuring.

it’s super important to make sure your nails are either DONE or filed, shaped, and smooth. at home maintenance is super easy. make a point to scrub your hands and feet well when bathing. make sure to stay on top of your cuticles by trimming or pushing them back. I like the look that pushing them gives. I use an orangewood stick, metal pusher and cuticle softener to make the process super easy and safe. after I’m done I add my pineapple scented cuticle oil. I do this on my fingers and toes.

invest in a rasp and pumice stone for your feet and use these gently every two weeks after soaking them in warm foot salts. rough usage can cause cuts and irritation. in between treatments keep your feet soft by slathering them in a moisturizing foot cream, cocoa/shea butter then oil to seal it all in. buy some soft thick aloe infused socks and wear them to sleep. you’ll thank me 😉

for info on how I do my nails click this

well, that’s all I’ve got. I truly hope you enjoyed my post! it’s always fun sharing my advice with you all. any feedback is appreciated and question is welcomed ♡

#my posts #self care #high maintenance #the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey

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tartagilicious · 3 years ago

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when the maple leaves bloom red once again, we shall visit my hometown together. 🍁

a shiver runs through you as you stand on the docks, eyes trained on the murky water only mere feet away. in the autumn sun, the world is touched with a faint frost. it lingers on your hands, in the air over the sea, in the red of his ears — yet it stands to comfort you. after days on a ship, even the snowiest weather would be appreciable.

a scarf the same deep crimson of your companion’s eyes sits wrapped around his head, concealing his face from the wind and public alike. ever since kazuha had chosen to flee from inazuma around a year ago, the search for him had been relentless; so much so that it had even been necessary to scout out the country beforehand. you recall the memories of those nights with comfortable ease.

resting atop the roofs while nursing a green tea, walking through the waning streets by nothing but the light of the moon, fighting with any vagrants that dared pick on you by the shores. life in inazuma was as fast paced then as it is now. yet, this time, you are determined not to outrun the precious time you have earned, not when knowing that every second means the world to the man beside you.

a long awaited taste of home sits a short walk away, you can see so in the way kazuha can’t keep his eyes to himself. anticipation and fear hang tangibly in the air, but as always, you give him all the time he requires.

you know all too well the feeling of being ripped from home.

“does it look any different?” the sounds of the harbour fade out in your head as you finally speak after a few minutes of silence. truly, inazuma remains beautiful. you thread you fingers with his as a smile begins to lift his lips.

he shakes his head, voice full of the wonder that keeps your heart full. “no. not at all. even the leaves.."

kazuha pauses, eyes drifting to the trees that sit further up in ritou, waving with the distant sea breeze. even at the outskirts of the town, the walks are painted red by the maple leaves that blow along them.

“it’s like i’ve never left."

with a small smile and a nudge forward, you’re happy to realise that you’d kept your promise.

“then go on,” you wave at him, grin splitting your face as your eyes take in his flushed skin and happy smile. “i won’t be far behind you."

yet unexpectedly, kazuha is the one to reach out to you. your lips part in confusion at first, but as his gloved hand takes yours, he all but makes you swoon.

“i want to experience every moment of this with you, and no one but.” he explains, a careful hand coming up to trace the side of your face. “thank you. from the bottom of my heart, ___."

it takes a tremendous amount of self control not to melt under his touch, but you keep to yourself, settling for a chaste peck on his cheek. the way he says your name never fails to be honeyed. a poet's emotion sits beneath the word in every reiteration, as soothing as the wind he commands.

leaning into his touch, your voice comes out quietly. “always."

there is no such thing as new beginnings. stories do not start and pick up, they are a permanent notion that holds for nothing. under the red of the maple leaves, you feel a new chapter ushering in, brought by the unforgettable sensation of his lips on yours.

#i was reading smut a minute ago idk how i got here- anyways #stan kazuha #genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction

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mamasbakeria · 3 years ago

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dry wells

summary: being dependable is hard when you have no one to fall back on. you learn that the hard way. aizawa is there to remind you that all you have to do is ask.

word count: 3.0 k

pairing(s): aizawa shouta x reader

genre | includes: stress, comfort, sfw, gender neutral reader, poc friendly reader, one (1) swear word, brief self-deprecation

author’s note: this is my first work on here and it is purely self indulgent. i hope anyone who feels the same way gets some form of comfort and reassurance from this ! please let me know what you think ! also please ignore me mentioning in the heights in absolutely everything i do. i can’t help it lol

Shouta values functional relationships. Quality over quantity, as cliché as it is, is the bread and butter of his social interactions. His brunch meetups and nights on the town are few and far between, but, contrary to common belief, he enjoys them very much. He doesn’t spend extra time around people he dislikes, so if he’s doing anything, he does it with company he enjoys. It’s as simple as that. The amount of people that belong in his circle are small, and the number has been waning gradually over the years. Without question, his closest companions are Hizashi and Nemuri. As fed up as he acts with them, he leaves every moment with them feeling lighter.

Except for when they’re working. He’d never get used to their faculty room antics no matter how hard he tried. And they weren’t the only problem. There's just something about the fluorescent lighting in the school building that drains every ounce of energy from him. Factor all that in with less than 4 hours of sleep and problem children at every corner? Coffee never stood a chance. (That doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying.)

Yes, it was exhausting, but Shouta likes to think he’s got it all under control. At least he knows what to expect. By now, it’s routine; Nemuri gossips about student drama (“Kobayashi Mariko from one of the second year support classes cheated on their girlfriend with a business department third year”), Hizashi reacts at a volume louder than necessary (“You’re kidding. The poor girl must be crushed”), everyone hears and begins to chime in (“I thought they already broke up, I saw her with Kato Misaki from general studies at the mall last weekend” “Well, that doesn’t mean anything. People go to the mall with their friends all the time” “But they kissed” “Tell me you’re joking”), Shouta sighs a deep, aching sigh in preparation for the headache that's about to kick in, and less than a minute later, right on schedule, a low chuckle comes from beside him as you set down a cup of coffee and greet him with a cheeky, “good morning, sunshine”.

Living the life of a hero, constantly stepping out into the world unsure if he’d return, Shouta has come to be appreciative of the slight pleasures in his life. One of those pleasures is you. He couldn’t always afford the luxury of routine, yet there you always were. You were just enough joy to last the day. Gentle when the time calls for it; brutally honest when need be. Comfortable in your skin, you expressed yourself in the way you knew others would understand while being unapologetically yourself. When Shouta started working at UA, he’d shadowed you for a semester, learning your tips and tricks for nurturing the new generation of heroes. Despite graduating the year after him, you’d established an aura of authority and dependability that not even he could ignore. Long after he’d done the same, you still offered your services and assistance in whatever way you could. How you managed to take on other people’s workloads he’d never know, he just knew he was grateful for you.

You were a different kind of teasing than Nemuri, a tamer happy than Hizashi. You were reliable in every sense and unwavering in your identity. Students flocked to you for advice as you undulated naturally between teacher and older sibling. You could easily take command of a room and just as quickly get everyone laughing. You stomped out defiance and made tiktok references in the same breath. Your presence brought relief; if you were here, everything would be figured out. Everyone just knew no matter what it is, (y/n)’s got it under control.

So when you shuffled into the faculty room half an hour late, eyes puffy and bloodshot, your usual confidence nowhere in sight, Shouta did a double take. The other teachers were preoccupied with this week’s “tea” (he’d heard Ashido use the term alongside other colloquial phrases he was far too removed to understand) and had yet to notice you. Judging by how you’d flinched at a louder than necessary gasp, it was a good thing.

What was normally a purposeful strut to the coffee station was now an aimless lumber. You changed course several times as if you’d forgotten the configuration of the room. Your arms were unsure as they unfolded and reached for the pot. From where he sat, Shouta could see your hands shake while pouring your coffee. They hovered over the countertop awkwardly as usual routine became foreign to your distracted mind. You clumsily spilled sugar and whimpered as creamer splashed over the rim of the cup. Your arm knocked over the nearly empty container of stirrers as you reached for napkins and it seemed to be the final straw. Blinking rapidly at the ceiling and taking shaky breaths did nothing to stop the silent tears from burning trails down your cheeks. You sniffled once, twice, and rubbed frantically at your eyes. Shouta wasn’t one for comfort, but leaving you to break down in a high school teacher’s lounge over a cup of coffee at 7:30 am didn’t sit quite right with him. As he stood to confront you (confront sounded violent and all too certain for what he was about to do. What exactly he was about to do, he had no clue), you let out a choked sob and escaped to the door, leaving the coffee and stirrers in disarray on the countertop.

“What’s wrong with (y/n)?” someone asked, as you pushed past Vlad and made a mad dash to somewhere beyond the lounge’s field of vision. Shouta was too preoccupied with packing his files and following you to check who said it.

Sometimes Shouta forgets that you’re also a stealth hero, but moments like this remind him (he says “moments like this” like this happens often. He wouldn’t be chasing after you if this wasn’t out of the ordinary- if he wasn’t concerned). You were fast and, by God, were you hard to find. It didn’t help that classes started in less than half an hour and the early-bird students had started wandering campus. At least this proved you were more than capable as a hero; even in your distress, you could blend into a crowd with ease.

He chased your trail until you hit a quiet stairwell and collapsed into a heap of sorrow under the railing. Now that you were within reach, Shouta realized he honestly didn’t know what to do. Operating at night and dwelling in the shadows for the majority of his career, Shouta had broken up trafficking rings, rescued victims of abuse, and toppled organized crime circuits, but comforting his colleague was way above his pay grade. But there was very little about this profession that involved staying in one’s comfort zone. It was as he’d overheard All Might tell Problem Child #1 (they weren’t slick; neither of them could whisper very well, let alone keep secrets), a hero’s body moves before they think. So here he was, body in a forgotten stairwell, mind still in the teacher’s lounge 3 floors and a 5 minute cardio workout away.

He didn’t know how many times he had to say it, but you’d been nothing but dependable. He’d never once had to worry about you. If he thought back far enough, your few encounters with him as UA students served memories of the same. You came just after Hizashi and Nemuri on the list of people he could tolerate, but higher than them at the same time. He wasn’t sure why.

You always called a cab for him after faculty bar crawls, regardless of whether or not he was sober. You were the first face he saw after the USJ incident at the beginning of the year. You’d often come to his apartment (now his room in the dorms) to keep him company while you both graded papers. Late into an evening of exasperated comments and mood-lightening jokes, you, without fail, would snatch away his stacks of papers and force him to sleep. By the time he woke up, they were graded and organized by student and subject.

He… liked having you around. Not just because you did things to help him, it was more than that, Shouta just had no idea what else it was. Maybe it was that way that before he entered the cabs you called for him, you always demanded he text you to let you know he was home. It may be hidden in how you would grab his arm when he waved off your worry, and you’d look into the depths of his soul with searching eyes. “I’m serious, Shouta. Promise me,” and he would, because he could never lie to you.

Maybe the answer lies within the time you told everyone to get rest as you stayed to listen to the nurses explain how to change his bandages when the Nomu left him bedbound. How, like clockwork, you’d knock on his front door, push him onto his couch, and ignore his protests to change the bandages he had been neglecting for school assignments and patrol. Had it been Hizashi, he wouldn’t have made it past the door. Don’t get him wrong, Hizashi is still Shouta’s closest friend, but neither of them would have lasted the period of time it took to properly unwrap, discard, disinfect, apply, and rewrap. It was probably because he knew you’d make it easier that Shouta let you stay. That was definitely it. And it was because he was comfortable around you that he gave you the second spare key to his room. That’s also why he let you detangle his hair while he slept and you finished grading papers under his kotatsu. You made him comfortable and he was grateful, that’s all. Had he ever done anything to pay you back? He was too young for his memory to fail him, so the answer was probably no.

That changed today.

Your shoulders shook more violently as time passed and it made Shouta realize how long he’d been lost in thoughts about you and that he was yet to actually help you. Trance now broken, he took a seat next to your trembling form and inhaled deeply before speaking.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” stupid stupid stupid stupid why was that the first thing to come out of your mouth what the fuck they’re gonna say no and never speak to you agai-

You looked up abruptly, startling Shouta the slightest bit. You looked… awful. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. Dried tears left tracks down your cheeks and fresh, hot ones made new trails right through them. Your eyes were hesitant- glossy and unfocused, lips etched in a wobbly frown. Your nose was running and your brows were pinched. Maybe this was more than Shouta signed up for. Before he could back away or call Nemuri or Hizashi for help, you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his torso. When your wet face buried into his shoulder, Shouta sighed once again. When he asked if he could touch you he really only expected to put a consoling hand on your shoulder. Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms around your frame as you shook.

You both sat like that for a short while. No words were exchanged. Just you clinging to the fabric of his clothes and him holding you in place. You counted the dull thudding of your heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of your mind you acknowledged that it was beating in time with Shouta’s. At the calming realization that you weren’t alone, your hiccups slowed and reduced to occasional sniffles. That was good. You began to pull away, wiping at your face. That was not good. Shouta’s mind came to a record scratching halt. Why exactly was it not good? Sure he enjoyed having you in his arms but- no. He was going to stop there. This was much too dangerous a thought path to be going down. He was only here to comfort you. Let’s get back to that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shouta looked down at you, still somewhat curled into yourself. Curled into him.

You then sighed and straightened, “I don’t know what there is to talk about. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s all just too much, I can’t catch a break,” your voice wobbled again for a moment and Shouta was afraid you’d cry again. You swallowed thickly before continuing.

“There’s too much going on and no time to address any of it. Things keep getting piled onto my plate, but I can’t sacrifice the rest of what has to be done. Crime is skyrocketing, we’re switching curriculums, I just got assigned to the Shie Hassaikai case, and my family is in town. On top of that, Hound Dog doesn’t have enough space in his schedule to accommodate the influx of students seeking help, so I’m the temporary counselor. I’m applying for grad school right now and once I start there’s no end in sight,” as you made yourself vulnerable in front of someone for the first time, your voice increased in pitch.

“Everyone is suffering and I feel like I’m the only one who can fix everything, but I can’t. And it frustrates me so much because I always fix everything, so there has to be something wrong with me if I can’t do it now. I’m tired, but I can’t be. I’m drowning but I have to make sure everyone else gets to shore first. I’m scared of letting everyone down.” There. It was all out. Your dirty laundry was out in the open. The words that hung heavy in the air brought clarity as they washed over Shouta like the eye drops you once had to force him to use. He watched in understanding as you sagged against the steps behind you.

Of course you felt like you couldn’t catch a break. You were doing everything for everyone all the time. Everyone could depend on you but who could you depend on? Shouta cursed himself internally for not picking up the signs earlier. He prides himself on his perceptiveness, but he couldn’t see that one of his closest companions was working themselves to the bone. He was doing a terrible job. But there would be time to berate himself later, you were his priority right now.

“There’s only so much one person can give. A well has no use when it’s run dry. It doesn’t make sense for you to do everything in the name of pleasing others. You’re entitled to being selfish. You can say no. Nobody will fault you for it. You are a good person regardless of whether or not you help whenever the opportunity arises. You’ve done more than enough to last several lifetimes. Everyone cannot rely on you all the time. You cannot shoulder everyone’s burdens. Don’t forget that you can ask for help too,” that was more than Shouta had said at once in at least a week. How special were you?

“Does that mean I’m allowed to rely on you?” you peeked at him from the corner of your eyes, trying to conceal… something. Was it hope? Relief? Admiration? Whatever it was, it made Shouta nervous. He looked away.

“Of course. We’re... coworkers. And you’ve always been helpful, it would be remiss of me not to return the favor,” his words left a soft smile on your face. He hadn’t done much, just told you what you needed to hear. You’d need time to internalize it, but you were already feeling more grounded. And this coworkers thing...

“Just coworkers? You don’t sound so sure,” you teased as the tell-tale glow of red eyes and floating hair from Shouta’s quirk accompanied a light dusting of red on the apples of his cheeks.

He stood quickly, brushing the dirt from the stairs off of his pants, “Class starts in 10 minutes, you should get cleaned up.”

You chuckled (that was good) and stood beside him. Without a second thought, you grabbed his arm and began to walk in the direction of the faculty room. You didn’t teach during the first period of the day, but he still needed his folders.

“I will. I just wanted to escort my coworker to his classroom first,” you reply cheekily. The pep returned to your step and your heart felt lighter. The only evidence that you had been anything other than happy was the redness of your eyes and the wet splotches in Shouta’s shirt. It felt good to have someone to rely on so you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little longer. You leaned into him as you conversed about everything from lesson plans to the menu Lunch Rush posted for the day.

“That musical you like, In The Heights, they made it into a movie right?” Shouta blurted before he could stop himself. Stupid stupid stupid stupid-

“Yes, they did. Why?” you knew why. You could hardly conceal your smile.

“Would you like to see it this weekend? With me, I mean. We could get coffee after. You deserve the break. Or we could just grade papers because-”

“Because we’re just coworkers right?” you cut him off with a sly smirk as you came to a stop in front of the teacher’s lounge’s doors, “I’d love to. We’ll talk details later, yeah? Class starts in 2 minutes.”

“Okay,”

“Okay,” there was that hesitation in your eyes again. Before Shouta got the chance to analyze what it could have meant, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned on your heels. You were going to talk to Nezu about taking a break.

He couldn’t keep the small smile off his face if he tried.

— —

“-And I heard from Rokuda from 3-C who heard from Kobayashi from 3-E who was walking with Takane from 2-D that (y/n) kissed Aizawa in the hallways yesterday.”

“I heard it was a little more than that, I’m talking janitor’s closet” “No” “Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s what I heard from Tsukino from 2-B” “Oh my God”

As you slid the door open, Shouta in tow, you cocked a brow at the quick hushes and suspicious eye-contact from everyone in the room.

“Did I miss something?”

#aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta x y/n #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x poc!reader #aizawa x black!reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #bnha x black!reader #mha x black reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #eni.writes

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

Side Effects of ghost powers

Hey all! I’m writing a DP fic called Side Effects exploring the physical and later mental/emotional impact of Danny initially getting his ghost powers. As an ICU stepdown nurse for 3 years, I wanted to view Danny’s accident through a slightly more realistic, medical lens.

Note: I had to fudge a good amount because Danny really should have fucking died and there’s no getting around that.

I do recommend you read the fic first before reading this as there’s some spoilers. Or if you don’t care you can read on. So! The two factors we are looking at regarding the accident are: ecto-contamination secondary to electrocution.

Electrocution

I was forced to downplay a lot of the severe symptoms of electrocution because, again, a bad enough shock will kill someone. My hand-wavey explanation is simply that the portal didn’t activate at a deadly voltage so he got a good shock but not enough to be fatal. I guess.

Muscle weakness/spasms: intermittent muscle spasms are common from shocks, muscles being activated by electricity and reacting to the lingering impulses. Danny’s is transient but quite annoying for a time. But his muscles are gonna be weak and achy af for days if not weeks after from the massive contractions caused by the shock and the after effects. Sensory issues: lots of things can cause nerve damage, including electrocution so Danny is experiencing some pretty severe neuropathy primarily manifesting with numbness and tingling throughout his body. His entire skin and peripheral nervous system got fried so while its mostly numb it’s also super sensitive for a bit of time causing massive pain and discomfort from your body tingling like a thousand bee stings. It’s worst in the hours after the accident but is something that never quite really goes back to normal both from the electrocution and his ghost half taking over and generally dulling his sense of touch.

Hearing/Vision loss: Like skin/nerves, your sensory organs in your eyes and ears would be affected by such a severe and allover electric shock. Danny has some blurred and occasionally double vision from his eyes not properly receiving/understanding input. Hearing loss is common following electricity given how delicate the inner ear is but I just give Danny some nasty tinnitus (ear ringing) for a bit. This inner ear problem also massively throws off his balance when he’s trying to move post accident. These factors are exacerbated by the ecto-contamination and mostly fade in the days following the accident before going away as his superhuman healing kicks in.

Heart Arrhythmia: an irregular heartbeat caused by the electrical impulses that control basal heartrate not coordinating they they should for a variety of reasons, in this case, massive electric shock. Danny would be somewhat aware of it, its not exactly painful exactly but you can just feel that your heart isn’t beating right. Secondary side effects are dizziness, chest pain, fatigue and shortness of breath. This resolves almost entirely when Danny stabilizes

Cognitive issues: Danny got his brains a little scrambled in addition to his molecules being rearranged. The first third of the story Danny is very clearly NOT thinking straight and Tucker/Sam should not have left him alone. Shocks can cause things like irrational emotional behaviors from hormone release along with memory loss and depression. He constantly waxes and wanes in mood and opinions on what to do in the story and never comes to a true decision that, damn lucky for him, worked out on its own.

Ecto-Contamination

Alright so Danny got massively shocked, sucks right but people live through that all the time. Ecto-contamination is more tricky (not only cause its made up and I had to think about what symptoms it would theoretically produce) but because the effects are more life threatening. It’s also irreversible, once he was contaminated it was only something that could be survived not cured.

So I theorized that Danny got shocked by the accident and was slowly dying of ecto-contamination and was pretty much clinically dead for a brief moment there, the death was enough for the large quantity of ectoplasm in him to immediately coalesce into a ghost (Phantom). So Danny was mostly dead but not quite, I’ve coded and brought back enough people to know it can be reversed somewhat. Danny becomes Phantom but the sudden stable formation of the ectoplasm into what its supposed to be, a ghost, caused his body to stop fighting the ectoplasm as a foreign invader and become part of the self. His core finished forming in his chest and his body started back up again, his ghost safely nestled in his once again living body as he slowly comes to grips with his actual death experience.

Nausea/Vomiting: I likened the idea of ecto-contamination to radiation poisoning, something that is essentially the antithesis to life. One of the first symptoms of radiation is n/v which is also why it’s one of the first overt symptoms Danny has. He was heavily electrocuted/irradiated and his body wants to expunge it all. As for the ectoplasm/blood he vomits, that’s the next section.

Gastrointestinal (GI) Bleed: So I was a little mean here. When one vomits up blood (or in this case ectoplasm/blood mix) it has to come from somewhere and a lot of the times it’s a GI Bleed. These are nasty, they need to be either cauterized or surgically repaired not to mention replenishing the blood lost. Fanon says that ectoplasm is at least mildly corrosive to humans so it is here, as it’s bonding to him, it’s literally eating him very slowly from the inside out which is causing a great deal of his internal pain. It’s not enough to be immediately life threatening but would kill him eventually. He developed some nasty bleeding ulcers in his stomach which let in blood and ectoplasm which were expunged. Danny’s core formed overnight and began healing the damage it had previously been causing but Dan is still gonna be vomiting excess blood/ectoplasm not to mention having black, tarry stools for at least a few days afterwards.

Hypothermia/Tremors: Hypothermia is when the body hits 95F/35C which Danny is just above at the start of the chapter. Danny initially starts shaking really bad (rigors) but as his body temperature cools further his shaking slows and eventually stops, a sure sign that the body is rapidly losing the fight to hypothermia and will likely die soon without immediate intervention. This is caused not only by the ectoplasm but his ice core shakily starting to form inside of him. Once he fully turns half ghost his hypothermia doesn’t change but it just no longer negatively affects him (I say Danny hovers naturally around 96-95F/35-33C getting much colder as Phantom at baseline. His body still can be damaged by going too cold but that’s a whole other post.)

Incoherency/Hallucinations: I mentioned in the electrocution section that Danny is more than a little addled and the contamination didn’t help in that regard. Not only is he not thinking clearly but he’s also getting a little delirious and seeing things. Common hallucinations I see are: someone in the room watching you, things crawling on the walls, creeping shadows, you’re in the wrong place. I think its a solid 50/50 as far as Danny straight up hallucinating but also becoming more aware of natural ectoplasm that hangs around in the atmosphere. (And before anyone asks, yes Clockwork did come and visit, Danny just doesn’t remember)

Pain: Being electrocuted, irradiated, being dissolved slowly on the inside is enough to cause massive amounts of pain. Danny is 14, he doesn’t understand true pain and probably underestimated how much it would hurt. Once it got bad, it was almost paralyzing so it got to the point where even when he wanted to call for help, he couldn’t move or think past the horrible pain of his every molecule slowly dying and rearranging itself.

Weakness/Fatigue: I don’t really have anything much to add for this section that hasn’t been said in the others. Just the combination of all of the above meant Danny is so incredibly weak and fatigued, this will be problematic in the days and weeks following the accident as his body heals from the stress put on it. Poor boy was probably just getting past the worst of his symptoms by the time of the Lunch lady attack one month in.

Ghost instinct: Going off the medical rant for a minute to go into another aspect of the contamination present in the story, the idea of ectoplasm adding inherent ghostiness to Danny. Its common fanon that all ghosts (through ectoplasm) have their own unique code and language that is just omnipresent and instinctive. Such a massive, body altering dose of ectoplasm saw those things start to leech into Danny even before he became half ghost. The biggest is his fear of being seen, majority of ghosts are completely invisible and don’t want to be seen by the living. As Danny’s suffering and literally dying, he can’t bring himself to confess to his loved ones for very understandable reasons but also this ghostly instinct in the back of his head telling him to hide and get away. Other instincts are a strong attraction to the portal/Ghost Zone, lowkey being able to sense living people around him and a bit of an emotional dampener when Phantom.

#danny phantom #danny phantom meta #danny not only got his skinny ass electrocuted #but also the ghost equivalent of radiation poisoning #kid is lucky af he survived #this fic took so long to write bc!!! I kept adding in more symptoms and details #and I just do not have enough words to convey how horrible Danny would have felt at the height of his contamination #poor baby #he's a little better next chapter

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