#some of these have been in my head for a while and have even inspired me in other stories
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sloppilyeatinggrapes · 1 hour ago
Text
This is my secret sideblog so I'm just gonna. Not do it as an ask game, I just want to talk about podcasts!
1.) what’s the first podcast you listened to?
Welcome to Nightvale <3
2.) what’s a podcast you’ve cried over?
So many, but recently, Unwell!
3.) Favorite podcast pet? (Idk if that’s worded weird but like if one of the characters has a cat or smth)
I'm honestly not the biggest fan of podcast pets but there is ONE EXCEPTION which is Dumptruck from Find us alive
4.) what podcast has the best soundtrack/music?
Aaah there are many I like... One some might have missed is Dreamboy, which have a couple of bangers, or In Strange Woods, which is a WHOLE MUSICAL and I listen to the songs frequently. But my go to soundtracks are Friends at the table (thank you Jack deQuit). Honorable mention to Wolf 359 and Hallowoods who I think uses their osts SO WELL, giving me VISCERAL reactions when I hear the music out of context.
5.) what’s a podcast that you really like but find it kinda hard to follow the plot?
I have tried to listen to What's the Frequence so many times, it seems so intriguing and interesting as a concept, but I still don't know what even the basic plot is. I think it starts with a murder?
6.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would be friends?
Maybe this is a weird combo but I do think Diggory would be great Friends with Kai and X from Girl in Space. It's something about identity and bodies and being made with a purpose, and somehow still ending up being a pretty chill person.
I also think the demons from Brimstone Valley Mall (especially the teens) would be best hatefriends with the Hrose camp polecule. They are opposite sides but same kind of mall kids. Maybe they wouldn't be friends maybe I just want to watch the world burn
7.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would hate each other?
hmmm. Elias TMA and Keppler Wolf359. They are boss middle managers who think very highly of their own competence, have VERY different ideological base and would kill each other with knives over a cornchip
8.) what’s a podcast where you mix up the characters voices?
I have had this problem with A LOT of podcasts in the beginning, it usually takes me a while unless they are very distinct. I remember it being a problem with Mabel (literally two characters and I couldnt tell them apart...) and Syntax with two of the women side-characters. It took me so long to understand what their personalities were supposed to be, since I couldnt tell who said what.
9.) what’s a podcast that you know the characters so well you can recognize their breathing?
oooh hmm. I mean, Nightvale. It's been like 11 years after all. And Deck the halls with Matrimony!
10.) what’s a podcast that you wish you could listen to again for the first time?
oooh maybe The Penumbra podcast, specifically Juno! I think I got a weird impression of it because I listened to the OG, much rougher version of arc 1, it was really confusing and I got a very different idea about the characters in my head. Now when it's finished, I think it would be a better listen to just go through all of it as a blank slate! I also liked the end, and I think it found what it is about during the journey.
11.) what’s a podcast you’ve listened to more than once?
Most... If I like it I'll listen AT LEAST twice. But I have listened to Deck the Halls SO MANY TIMES because it's short and wrapped.
12.) what’s a podcast you wish more people listened to?
Having many fans is a double edged sword, but right now, Hallowoods and Hymns for the road. I think both would be so visually inspiring for fanart and oc's.
13.) what do you like to do while listening to a podcast?
Draw! Always!
14.) who is a podcast character that you love?
Leon from Greater Boston!
Diggory Graves from Hallowoods!
Brnine from Friends at The Table!
15.) who is a podcast character you can’t stand?
Genuinely? I did not like Cassius from Syntax... sorry... I just think they are too stupid for me.
16.) what songs do you associate with a certain character/ podcast?
oh man, Hoziers Eat your young with Hallowoods, Moss by cosmo shelldrake (for obvious reasons) with Hymns for the road, Haunted House by sir babygirl with Friends at the Table
17.) what’s a podcast that you can’t stop thinking about?
Bluff city (friends at the table), Hallowoods, Greater Boston and The Silt Verses. It's something about imperfect communities
18.) are their any podcasts that you regret listening to?
Yes. We're alive. Zombie podcast. Was waiting for it to subverse all the boring and bad cliches it set up. It didn't. It was 100 eps a 40 min. I have never been more mad
19.) whose your favorite podcast couple?
In canon, of course Cecil and Carlos. The OG!
Shipping wise its Leon and Michael from Greater Boston, Harley and Lancaster and Love and Radager from Find us Alive, Brnine and Valence from Palisade, Heard and Hector from Bluff city.
I also ship Malik from World gone wrong with the alien replacement of his ex. I WANT TO BELIEVE.
20.) whose a podcast character that you think would dress really cool?
Actually cool? Probably Riot or Olivier from HFTH. Cool as in interesting/fascinating? Cecil WTNV again.
Podcast themed ask game cause I’m bored!
1.) what’s the first podcast you listened to?
2.) what’s a podcast you’ve cried over?
3.) Favorite podcast pet? (Idk if that’s worded weird but like if one of the characters has a cat or smth)
4.) what podcast has the best soundtrack/music?
5.) what’s a podcast that you really like but find it kinda hard to follow the plot?
6.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would be friends?
7.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would hate each other?
8.) what’s a podcast where you mix up the characters voices?
9.) what’s a podcast that you know the characters so well you can recognize their breathing?
10.) what’s a podcast that you wish you could listen to again for the first time?
11.) what’s a podcast you’ve listened to more than once?
12.) what’s a podcast you wish more people listened to?
13.) what do you like to do while listening to a podcast?
14.) who is a podcast character that you love?
15.) who is a podcast character you can’t stand?
16.) what songs do you associate with a certain character/ podcast?
17.) what’s a podcast that you can’t stop thinking about?
18.) are their any podcasts that you regret listening to?
19.) whose your favorite podcast couple?
20.) whose a podcast character that you think would dress really cool?
414 notes · View notes
foodtruckery · 2 days ago
Note
I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.
They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.
It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.
Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).
I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?
HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.
cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)
i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!
--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now. 
Not jarring enough to stop him, though. 
He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo. 
Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.
Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter. 
Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks. 
He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven. 
But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.
Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this. 
Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock. 
"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?" 
Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach. 
He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine. 
Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink  patch against his skin. 
Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother. 
"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him. 
"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with. 
Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."
He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.
And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat. 
"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again. 
"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again. 
Ford rips the packet open with his teeth. 
"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning. 
Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him. 
"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?" 
Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words." 
"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining. 
"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change." 
When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side. 
Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does. 
It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it. 
He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well. 
It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch. 
He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost. 
"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it. 
"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up. 
He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?" 
Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!" 
"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!" 
Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?" 
Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head. 
"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!" 
"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore." 
Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass. 
Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead. 
There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards. 
If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks. 
"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events. 
"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."
Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.  
"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.
"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head. 
He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet. 
"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest. 
Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.
"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?" 
The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability. 
"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"
Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"
Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again. 
"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"
"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.
He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special. 
To be wanted. 
To be enough.
To fix things. 
"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes. 
When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is. 
More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind. 
It isn't. 
Ford is more certain of  the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time. 
And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for. 
It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him. 
Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name. 
And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation. 
Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair. 
"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them. 
Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue. 
He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."
Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself.  His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not? 
Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt. 
Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"
Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet. 
They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips. 
The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's. 
Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders. 
"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free. 
Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process. 
It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him. 
"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."
He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound. 
When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap. 
"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out. 
"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh. 
He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement. 
His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap. 
It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face. 
Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.
"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub,  rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap. 
Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier. 
He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again. 
He's missed this, Ford realizes. 
Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true. 
But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again? 
Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name. 
He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him. 
Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on. 
"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!" 
The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption. 
He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again. 
Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut. 
"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after. 
The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat. 
".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.
When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused. 
The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time. 
Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.
98 notes · View notes
amorgansgal · 1 day ago
Text
A Moment in Moonrise Towers Library
Big thank you to @12thhouse-sun for letting me be inspired by their fic you're at the top of my lungs (a wonderful Gale x Tav fic and is well worth a read) and allowing me to write a smutty scene involving Gale x Female reader in the Moonrise Tower library post Ketheric fight! Hope you enjoy this homage.
CW: Sexual content, touch of dominance/submission, very brief mentions of blood and injury
Tumblr media
The portal Dame Aylin had conjured led you all back to the doorway that you had first gone through to reach the eponymous towers that made up Moonrise. You stumbled a little on the first step, your heart was still racing after the battle, your skin covered in bruises, sweat and blood - some of yours, some of the other creatures you had fought. So while you longed for a good hot bath, some bread and cheese, and your bedroll, you knew you’d be unlikely to sleep with how shaky you felt. 
Thankfully your lover, Gale, caught hold of your arm, stopping yourself from falling flat on your face down the rest of the stairs. It would hardly do for a conquering hero to make a bit of a fool of themselves! You were about to crack a similar joke to Gale while thanking him for coming to your aid, but on turning to him, and catching his gaze, you faltered. 
His eyes were dark, much darker than even their usual warm brown depths would be, and the slight flair of his nostrils and tightened grip on your arm made you pause. He inhaled sharply as though he longed to press his nose against your neck and you remembered how he had once said he found you utterly desirable in the heat of battle with your muscles glistening! At the time you had, more or less, dismissed the notion as just a bit of silly flirting, a little bit of fun with not much to it… but given how he was staring at you, as though he would practically devour you… maybe he had been skirting around the truth. Or… well… pointing you directly at it!
Gale’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and you saw him shift his weight, curving his back a little and finally letting go of your arm to rearrange his robes. You glanced down, then cursed yourself for doing something so stupid in front of the others, though thankfully everyone seemed to be distracted and were already moving off to go back down to the main hall. But you were quite certain that Gale was hard. 
You tried to act like you hadn’t even noticed and began to follow the others along the hallway to the stairs, but before you could catch up Gale took hold of your arm again and whisked you into what had been Moonrise Tower’s library before you could even let out a cry of surprise. The door was shut behind you and you didn’t even have a chance to ask, ‘Gale, what are you doing?’ He pressed his body tightly against yours and was kissing you as though you might disappear, his hands cupping your face, running down your sides, round your back until you were flush against him and he was grinding his hard length into you. 
The growing ache between your thighs made you whimper against his mouth and suddenly he pulled you round the corner of bookshelves to where Z’rell’s desk was. An absolutely devilish gleam entered Gale’s eyes and he pushed all of the books, papers, quills and so forth that had been scattered on there onto the floor. 
He grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that, but hesitated when it came to my own desk!’
A laugh bubbled up in your chest, but Gale easily picked you up and then plonked you down on the desk, his lips continuing their onslaught of passion and desire as he kissed down your jaw and neck. ‘Gods, I was so worried about you,’ he murmured.
‘I was fine,’ you said softly, your head tipped back, enjoying the kisses he was burning into your skin. ‘We did it, we defeated him.’
‘I’ll never not worry about you, my love. And the moment the battle was done, I wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms, to claim you, to become one with you-’
‘Well I’m glad you waited until we found a private spot, I’m not sure how the others would feel about that, but we should get downstairs…’
Gale outright growled and you let out a breathless laugh as his fingers eagerly scrabbled with the ties on your breeches, tugging them down to your ankles. ‘Gale!’ you cried out quietly, but he seized your mouth in another passionate kiss till you felt like he was trying to pull every bit of air from your lungs and leave you dizzy. 
‘Shh, my love, we have to be quick.’
‘Gale!’ you whispered, attempting to be scandalised that he was actually considering this: fucking you desperately and quickly in the quiet, dark library while your companions, friends and allies were downstairs. When in truth it sent a shiver of desire coursing through you and the brief touch of his fingers against your cunt made it downright clear how sopping wet you were just from the delicious notion of him claiming you after a battle, how much it turned you on seeing his dark, wild look. 
He smiled, triumphantly, wickedly, his beautiful brown eyes gleamed in the half light and finally his clever fingers slipped between your thighs, drenching themselves in your slick and circling your clit till you let out a pathetic whimper and instinctively bucked against his touch. 
‘Gods damn,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. ‘Evidently I’m not the only one who finds a scrape with death inspiring!’ 
‘Gale!’ you whined and felt his soft chuckle of laughter, as he pressed kisses to your throat, his fingers easily slipping inside of you, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit, making you thrust your hips, needily seeking out your pleasure. 
‘You’re so wet,’ he whispered, his voice tickling your ear. ‘Did I do that, my love? Do you want me to take you here, fuck you on this desk, claim the hero of Reithwin?’
You didn’t even have it in you to argue that the whole group were the heroes of Reithwin and of course, he was utterly to blame for the slick between your thighs, the domineering, passionate kiss he had given you made you weak with longing. You nodded pathetically and eagerly reached for him, uncaring whether anyone downstairs noticed your absence or whether they would try to look for you. You pushed aside his robe, unlacing him and freeing his hard cock from the confines of cloth. Gale hissed as your hand stroked him, smearing down the precum that beaded at the end of his cock down the length.
‘Be quick,’ you demanded and his smile widened. He placed your hand back on the desk, then found your slit once more with his fingers, sliding one inside and making you drop your head back to moan.
‘Quiet, darling, you don’t want anyone to hear us,’ he murmured, though he was still looking very pleased with himself and you were quite certain he did not care a jot whether anyone else heard your cries of pleasure. There had already been a few teasing comments and displeased looks from your companions on a couple of occasions when you hadn’t been able to bite back your moans in camp. Gale rarely tried to stifle his either and kept up a running stream of how good you looked, how much he wanted you, how wonderful you felt, how badly he needed to hear your pleasure. 
He slid his cock back and forth against your slit, then easily sunk into you, his fingers tightly digging into your thighs, his groan buried against your neck and turning into a sharp bite. You gasped at the sensation and whimpered at the feel of his long cock nestled deep inside you. His warm tongue laved at the mark now left on your neck, soothing it. 
‘Gods, I will never get used to how good you feel,’ Gale said, then slowly pulled his hips back, till just an inch of him was left inside you and then quickly thrusting into you, making the desk jolt underneath you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, wanting him closer, but he suddenly pushed you down on the desk and draped your arms back so you were clinging to a corner of the desk. 
‘Keep those legs wrapped tightly around me, my love,’ he said, then placed a hand against a nearby bookshelf and began to fuck you, hard and fast. 
It was relentless, desperate, the culmination of all the emotions and fear you had felt during battle, a deep seated need to touch and make sure the other person was alive and well, the adoration and love you felt for one another. The bookshelf creaked under Gale’s clenched grip, the desk groaned and you cared nothing at all if anyone heard you. You moaned loudly as Gale’s other hand returned to your clit, stroking and circling it quickly, bringing you almost painfully to your pleasure, an inescapable wave and rush of utter bliss. 
He continued to thrust into you, his eyes gazing down on you, drinking you in, his brow furrowed a little, his breath coming short and fast, his groans joining yours in a cacophony of lust in the quiet library. Finally he almost collapsed onto you, the last few thrusts were short but deep, pressing himself all the way inside you, Gale panting against your cheek, his eyes closed, a few unthinking kisses pressed against your cheek and jaw and lips. Then he was still, the warm weight of his body over yours, your legs still wrapped around him.
‘Gods, I needed that,’ Gale murmured, his throat sounded a little rough and dry. ‘I needed you.’ He gently cupped your face and then kissed you, now so sweetly and gentle that it felt almost impossible to think that desperate, domineering man who had yanked you into the library and this soft, sweet man were one and the same. ‘You are so beautiful, so wondrous, everything about you… gods… it’s beyond words, beyond any magic I could conjure, you are…’
‘Shh,’ you whispered. ‘You are incredible too,’ you leaned your head back again and got your breath back. ‘That was good… very good.’
‘Not too fast?’
‘I liked it fast. I liked how much you wanted me.’
‘Oh, you have no idea!’ Gale chuckled, then manoeuvred himself off you and offered a hand to help you up. He gave you one last searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist when he felt your knees buckle a little. He then rested his forehead against yours and you breathed in the scent of him, even if he did smell slightly of sweat, blood and ash. ‘I love you, my dearest, darling heart,’ he said.
‘I love you too.’
You both quickly tidied yourself away and headed back downstairs to join the others. At first you thought that maybe no one had missed you, that everyone was so busy talking and celebrating the battle being won and done, that you had timed your little jaunt well. But as you walked down the stairs Astarion caught your eye. He raised an all too familiar mocking eyebrow and smirked. 
‘Where were you?’ he asked.
‘Just seeing if there was anything in the library worth taking,’ you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
‘Well evidently you found something worth the taking!’ he teased, pointedly staring at Gale who had been pulled into a conversation with Jaheira and Halsin. ‘Or was it Gale who did the taking?’
71 notes · View notes
altcvnningham · 3 days ago
Text
shotgun
adler x f!bell
summary: quick rough drabble inspired by this post, a little by this post, probably should look at the first one for picture reference bc damn it’s confusing to write
tags/cw: established adlerbell, f!bell, she/her pronouns, cold war era, shotgunning/smoking, but bell doesn’t, adler is a nasty meanie and makes her wc: 450~
a/n: my brain wouldn’t let me sleep until i wrote it so i wrote it. small, messy, barely edited . bon apetit sickos
Tumblr media
“Adler,” she winces, her hands wrenched around the thick forearm he deftly curls around her, locking her in place against him. The chafing of his leather jacket pinches against her back as he presses his chest into her from behind, pinning her hips forward into the darkroom table. She whimpers, neck straining to turn her head away. “Adler- stop.”
But he doesn’t listen- doesn’t much care to, the scruff of his jaw nuzzling catlike against her soft cheek, sandpaper and velvet. He presses a smirking kiss to the corner of her mouth, pursed tightly in her refusal to humour his stupid game, while his hand steadies her head for him to continue his teasing assault. His cigarette, half-smoked, stays perched in that hand as he stamps a kiss upon her cheek, flushed red and seared hot with her embarrassment.
“C’mon, Bell,” he croons, turning her face with a firm hand to look his way. She resists at every point, just as he'd expected her to. He’ll give it to her, she’s stubborn- just how he likes her, he supposes.
He smooths back her hair, cigarette still in hand, then tightens his forearm around her as he brings it towards himself. A mocking jibe as he goes.
“You’re a big girl, aren’t you? You can take it.”
“I don’t want it,” she whines, a shake of her head made stiff and rigid as he presses his temple tight against hers; with a flinch of her watery eyes she watches as his hand comes around her face, towards his own, slowly pulling the cigarette into his mouth much too close to hers.
The smell is acrid, burns to even breathe in, yet she can’t deny the sobered part of her that yowls its craving for it, her system clean of nicotine now for… how long? A few weeks- no- months? Actually, when did she stop? She could have sworn it wasn’t long ago she’d been perched beneath a rain sheltered overpass, smoke in hand as she watched city lights glint in the distance… but where? When?
She’s awarded little time to mull it over before Adler’s face is squashed too close to her own, cheek to cheek and his mouth a hairs-width from breaking the corner of her lips as he lodges the cigarette between his own. It’s a cruel joke, she thinks, the way he goads her, corners her, bends her boundaries all pliable to his liking- Adler’s way of staking some nasty, childish claim over her, she reckons.
A shame then, that she doesn’t half mind it. A shame, when he takes a drag, slow and deep, then turns his head towards hers to pry her lips apart with his thumb, open her mouth, and bitterly exhale the smoke inside.
Tumblr media
61 notes · View notes
opal-kitty333 · 1 day ago
Text
So, I like Horror Sans, and being a nerd, I've been thinking about him a lot during my recovery with brain damage. A lot of people treat his wounds like brain damage, giving him memory problems, chronic headaches/migraines, speaking difficulties, fugue states, just issues collecting his thoughts. All understandable and reasonable symptoms, but there's something about just what truly horrific, completely life altering, brain damage to such an extent can do to a person that hasn't been explored very much. Yes, he doesn’t technically have a brain, but considering someone with head trauma like him would be in a comatose like start for weeks to a month, we can choke up him taking that hit like he did and being able to walk and talk to that. Plus, we can take inspiration from real injury and science and have wiggle room for it to not be 100% accurate. Anyway-
This is Phineas Gage.
Tumblr media
It is one of the earliest extreme cases of brain damage where the patient survived while psychology as a scientific practice was getting on it's feet. If you've taken a psychology class, you've heard of him. He was a railroad worker foreman who had a rod blown through his skull in an accident, destroy most of his frontal lobe.
If you don’t know what the frontal lobe is it's where your ability to reason and make decisions, the ability to control your muscles voluntarily, and your ability to process knew information and recall old information. It's well known for being the part of your brain that inputs logic, the part gives you the ability to remember what happened last time you picked a fight with someone, so instead you choose to walk away despite how much your want to punch them for being a prick.
As I stated before, this man was a foreman, well known for keeping a level head, being responsible, and hard working. After the injury, that completely changed. Everyone agreed he was barely recognizable as himself. He was impulsive, prone to extreme mood swings, impatient, making massive plans only to almost immediately abandon them, and generally seemed to have no control over his desires or ability to distinguish between a want or a need.
Now, let's look at Horror.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'd say it's safe to say his frontal lobe but also part of his parietal lobe would be utterly fucked. Your parietal lobe controls your ability to process sensory information (mostly touch) and to understand not only where you and your body is, but to process the world around you. You see a massive enough tent, some clowns running around, the right music, and your parietal lobe is what does the work to label that as a circus.
To have these two structures damaged, or the closest equivalent in a monster, would radically alter Sans' personality, his ability to move, his understanding of the context around him, and connect with others.
He'd become rather self centered on his own desires and beliefs, struggling to even have the patients let alone the want to give other people the time of day. His actions would be impulsive, made on his emotions in the present moment and with little concerns other than the immediate consequences. He'd be prone to loud outbursts, not just rage, but any other emotions like sadness or glee with little ability to realize how he's acting may be overblown or inappropriate. Not only could his ability to put his thoughts into words be a struggle, but his ability to say those words could be affected as well. He'd be very present focused, with pass relations or responsibility mattering little as he keeps marching to the beat of his own drum.
That is, if he could march. He'd not only struggle to know where his limbs are or what he's touching, but his sense of balance would be awful. He'd likely have a constant wobble, having to go slowly and potentially hold onto or lean on things if he wanted to move quickly. God forbid how much he'd bump into furniture or trip and struggle actually grab onto something to catch himself. It's entirely possible he'd have difficulty reading and writing or confusing his left and right regularly. He'd need more time to process a situation and could very easily misidentify what's actually going on could likely lead to him acting even more unpredictable as the world around him is so much more dangerous and he's struggling to fully understand what everyone is doing and trying to keep two steps ahead of everyone around him.
But here's the thing. The brain is also incredibly adaptable in ways your wouldn't believe. Phineas Gage slowly recovered over time. He died twelve years after the incident from epilepsy but over time he slowly regaining his social skills and general functionality. He picked up a job as a stage coach four years after the indecent even. He was never quite the same person he was before, but he wasn't doomed to be what he first was after the indecent.
Imagine what this kind of thing could mean for Sans. Not only would the betrayal cut deep enough and the world falling apart put him through trauma that would shred the soul, but people he trust literally damaged his ability to think logically and control his impulses. Of course he's going to lash out, focus on doing anything he can to survive with little respect for what anyone else thinks. Even forcing his brother to do things and refusing to listen to him unless given no other option. All while he thinks the biggest problems after the indecent is how much his head hurts, how his memory is shot, that it's harder or even down right painful to think, and how he's struggling to cling to his independence while never having the patience or resources to give himself the ability to heal. He doesn't even realize how much he's changed. If you point it out Sans would likely get defensive and aggressive, or brush it off as everyone underground being awful people out to eat each other alive.
But then he gets out to the surface. He gets stable food, a safe place to live. His brother is recovering and as the years pass his mind can finally start pulling itself together and healing, finally. Sans begins to regain his ability to think critically on his own actions and others, his emotional outburst and vindictive behavior start to wind down and fade. He's able to think and start sifting through all the shit he remembers.
The guilt of what he did, the people he hurt for no reason other than pettiness. The stupid decisions he made that hurt himself and/or Papyrus in the long run. All the hindsight he has now. Imagine how much he would bury those memories and thoughts. Justifying everything he could and insisting he had reasons, or that it's just how it was and that everyone was as awful and cruel he was. Or just accepting that what Undyne had done to him and the famine after had ruined him, broken and rotted all the good he had and left him vile and malicious. That he'll never have a chance to truly be who he was before.
38 notes · View notes
bracedfangirl · 3 days ago
Text
Fatal mistake
So uh about 5 years ago I sent an anon ask to @lloydskywalkers (whose writing was a major major source of inspiration for this) about an S5 Lloyd dies AU idea, and promised to write it one day... And while I did do so back then, I figured it was time to rewrite this old trope (shoutout to @wassupninja for proofreading all of it and holding my hand while I suffered through writing this)
But first, I shall summon some angst loving mutuals: @goldenavenger02 @thesoundofmadness @rosiehunterwolf @fishybehavior (I probably left out some people... It's 1 am...)
This situation has definitely been in one of his nightmares, Kai's sure of it. To be fair the past weeks as a whole have been a nightmare come true as well. Still he should've expected it... Of course Morro would resort to using Lloyd as a... As an ultimatum tool? Or whatever fancy words Zane would use...
Either way this sucks. If they don't give that greasy dickwad the crystal, he'll kill Lloyd for sure (Kai's seen that disgusting murderous gaze of his), but there's zero guarantee that he won't, even if they do, plus there's also that whole "gonna curse all 16 realms" thing too-
"Stop stalling! Give me the crystal, or else-"
"We're not stalling, we're thinking!"
Kai really, really hopes that Morro believed that, and that he doesn't hear their frustrated banter either. How the fuck are they gonna get out of this, they have nothing-
The ground slightly shakes, responding to Cole's frustration, and suddenly Kai's confidence comes back out of the void.
Let's see how you hold up playing hot potato, fuckface-
"Time's up, I told you to quit stalling!"
Before Kai has any chance to react, he's struck by an overwhelming sense of wrong. He whips around with speed comparable to Jay's strikes, the word 'wait' already on his lips-
His world freezes in place.
Lloyd stands on the ledge, bent back in an awfully unnatural way, red glossy blade sticking out of his middle, eyes wide open in shock.
Skewered, that fucker skewered him-
He's seen this before. Multiple times in slight variation over the years in his nightmares. But none of those even compare to the horror and dread of this because this is fucking real.
He doesn't hear the cries of panic coming from Jay and Cole, or the disgusting eerie chuckle coming from Morro. He doesn't even know if he himself has made any noise.
No he only hears the choked gasp Lloyd gives as he's kicked off the ledge, and makes a run for it. He gets there only a second after Lloyd lands on the ground with an awful crack, hands pressing on the wound reflexively.
Lloyd's eyes are wide open, his teeth clenched, and it takes Kai far too many seconds to realize that the horrible, garbled noise coming from him is his breathing. He can faintly hear Jay scream something again, but none of the words actually register. He presses his hands on the wound harder, earning an awful noise of pain from Lloyd in response. The panic has ebbed enough that Kai finally turns to look at Zane, waiting for whatever medical instructions he's whipped up-
But Zane's just staring. He's staring with that awful, horrified and saddened look, and Kai's blood runs cold.
No-
Lloyd's equally soaked hand suddenly grips his wrist, and Kai whips his head back to look at him.
His eyes are only half open now, but he's looking Kai straight in the eye.
"H-Hey... It's gonna be f-fine... Even g-got the power part handle-"
Lloyd suddenly chokes on his words, blood squirting from his mouth as he coughs. Seemingly realizing how little time he has, he reaches for Jay's shaking hands, turning to look at him and the others.
"Don' ya dare eve' s'op makin' jokes 'kay? Y'all gonna nee' jokes. Don' s'op till ya kicked the ass o' every ghost ou' there-"
Lloyd weakly spasms as more blood spills from his lips, his hold on Kai's wrist weakening. His head stills again vaguely in Kai's direction, eyes glossed over and barely open.
"Go'a s'ay a'some a'ight? Like... Vo'ca'o..."
His eyes are already closed somewhere mid sentence, and Kai scrambles to respond in panic, realizing he's been rendered silent the whole time-
The fire in Kai's heart sputters out just as Lloyd does, hand sliding off of Kai's wrist.
And Kai falls apart.
He cries and wails, begging his littl brother to wake up, to stay, even though he knows Lloyd can't hear it.
"I must admit I'm touched. But I do wonder, which is more pathetic? The fact that you even dropped this in your haste to reach him, or that he seemed the least scared out of the five of you."
Morro's sly, gleeful voice echoes through the cavern as he eyes the realm crystal in his transluscent hands with a disgusting grin before he disappears into one of the tunnels, likely leading to the surface.
As pathetic as it is, Kai doesn't immediately scramble to his feet to chase after him, to wipe the grin off his face by pressing it into water and wrangling that wretched crystal from his hands. He just stays rooted firmly into place, along with the others. It's as if all of his strength left him, leaving him to tremble in silence, clutching his brother's dead body, unhearing and unfeeling as Cole and Zane try to hold Jay together as he crumbles behind him with loud cries.
As if only a second had passed, Zane appears at his side, telling him they need to get going with an eerily monotone voice. He shifts his hold Lloyd's body with trembling hands, before shakily standing up. It feels like he's moving on autopilot, not even registering the climb to the surface. He can't feel his soaked gi sticking to him, or the wind coming from the exit of the cave or any of the bruises and cuts he's picked up. There's just this empty, numb and cold feeling right where his power and heart would be, the punishment for his failure to do the one thing destiny tasked him with.
That's not entirely true... He still has Nya left. He's going to have to work extra hard to keep her safe, failing her too is something he can't afford.
But unless he figures out some sort of magical plan real soon, he's going to lose not just her, but everyone else he loves as well.
20 notes · View notes
starrysharks · 24 hours ago
Text
STARRYSHARKS FAQ: 2!
this FAQ will go over some of the questions about my process that i get in my askbox. some disclaimers:
ANYONE who asks any questions that have been answered in either FAQ will be ignored.
PLEASE don't take this FAQ as gospel or assume that it's viable art advice. it is not. i am not a professional, i am a teenager who draws in her free time and therefore many of these answers will involve things that break common "laws" of art, logic, and anatomy. this is just how i personally go about my illustrations. please also don't take me or any individual artist as your sole inspiration, you will not get anywhere believe me. art is like a balanced diet. if you eat sweets all the time, you'll get sick - but if you only eat veggies and healthy food, you'll get bored. try to take inspiration from a vast range of artists, even those you don't think you'd really enjoy. and most importantly, LEARN THE FUNDEMENTALS OF ART!!!! even just a little bit of knowledge can go a long way, regardless of how simple or realistic you want your artstyle to be. refusing to learn fundamentals had my art looking janky for years.
ok enough waffle let's get started!
Q: HOW DO YOU DRAW FACES?
A: it depends.
there's lots of things you can do to a face to make it unique. the starting point is the facial features themselves - eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth... if they're the same for every character with the only uniqueness being in eyecolor or something like that, you get same face syndrome.
so, take your characters and apply some diverse facial features. certain facial features have certain character connotations too. like downturned eyes implying a laid-back or tired character, or a 3-shaped mouth implying a catty character, something like that.
but, for me, facial diversity isn't enough. it's not like you go out and everyone has the same head shape. so, i tend to try and get creative with face shape, and depending on how thin or wide the shape is, you can move around the facial features too.
Tumblr media
these examples are a little shitty but that's because i put them together in 10 minutes. you can see the effect in my actual characters, who have more effort put into them, and how no character looks alike.
Tumblr media
other than that, i tend to try and give every character a different eye shape and pupil "type" - so while krankenstein and romèo might have simple black dot eyes, octavia and vivica have large multicolor anime esque eyes, onion has cartoony circle eyes, and so on. if you just switch things around enough, even characters with similar face shapes will look unique. and even if they don't, doppelgangers do exist in real life.
Q: HOW DO YOU DRAW HANDS?
A: once again it depends. some characters have regular shaped hands while some have really tiny hands that only have 3-4 fingers instead of 5. usually my larger characters will have smaller hands but that isn't always the case.
but for the standard hand, i tend to have a line between the palm/base and the fingers. and then i um...add the fingers i guess😭 there's usually a lot of abstraction when it comes to hands for me, because i'm not the best at drawing them. usually either the last three fingers or the middle two will be connected as well depending on the pose.
Tumblr media
Q: HOW DO YOU DRAW FURRIES?
A: i don't really know myself. i still don't know how to draw most furry species especially canines, god i hate canines!!! well not really, i can just never draw their snouts. really i draw furries like i would human, just with larger thighs and further back lower legs. and fur too. i like to exaggerate the nails too. and of course add fur, usually at the joints.
Tumblr media
Q: HOW DO YOU DO LINEART?
A: i draw over the sketch. i do the sketch in thin, low opacity lineart, and go over it in varying thickness based on the perspective/desired look to get that comic book varied thickness look. the eraser will be your best friend more than the pen here, cuz there's a lot of cleaning up with both the sketch and the final lineart to have everything looking sharp.
Q: CAN YOU GIVE A STEP BY STEP GUIDE OF HOW TO DO YOUR STYLE?
A: no and i will never be able to. there is no formula to my style, i break every rule i make for myself. i barely follow any of the answers i write in these QNAs. they are not rules or steps but rather just me explaining my habits in art. i never have a checklist when i draw, i just do these things intuitively based on years of drawing. this might sound like some stuck up "it comes naturally" thing but trust me IT DOES NOT COME NATURALLY!!! these habits are born from over a decade of drawing. and besides, like i said before, with how varied i try to make my character designs any step by step would never be universal to my style. i'm really sorry but that's the truth. either way i hope this QNA helps.
19 notes · View notes
tumblingxelian · 7 hours ago
Text
Oh I have been looking FORWARD to this!!!
Excellent in media res opening, you get us into Fu's insecurities & head-space so smoothly and his ensuing logic, along with setting up Trixx's gambit which I am super curious about to say the least!
As before, more excellent in media res, flashbacks are hard to use but you set it up so smoothly without disrupting the frantic nature of the fight or how off balance Marinette is without a partner this early in her career. It makes sense Marinette's just been low key happy but also not noticing Chloe's absence from her life and is only keying in now, the little details are nice touches as Marinette is a very detail oriented person but one with a heavy reliance on her gut.  Chloe's continuing meltdown outside of the façade Purrge allows her to keep up came off really well, the "I know, I suck!" aspect was especially telling, I like Bustier making an effort though clearly being out of her depth given the circumstances. Also gosh, Chloe hissing XD
Adrien: So the Cat Miraculous does make us behave more like cats! Plagg: No, no I do not, don't pin this on me kid. Chloe: (Climbing to the highest place to hiss at people more)
Also nice to see the rest of the class showing some agency and activity on their own without prompting from the MCs, and that whole bit with Marinette nominating Alya only to realize Alya wasn't gonna nominate her was great, I loved their dialogue exchange they are so witty and fun and oooh the confused ball of Adrien feelings, I love it!
Solid break out from the flashback too, and a very smooth introduction with Fu, I love her not realizing his age due to the Miraculous mask effect and his dialogue. I dunno, I just really like how you write his manner of speech. Also more Adrien feels! Fu's method of just leaving Miraculous with people who's vibes are right may come back to bite him XD
"That which was not known could not be pursued, much less caught."
As before I love the distinct manner in which he comes off with, everyone has their own voices, but Fu's is perhaps the most distinct which makes sense given his age and life experience. Sewer Hat Boy, another victim of the Miraculous mask effect and I love the manner in which Chloe is described, very much feels like a feline in human form. The fight itself was awesome, Fu's general nervousness really did not serve him well (Overall) in this fight, constantly over-thinking and fretting and then losing himself in a flashback while Chloe's turned off everything but fight mode. The swapping of the Cataclysm was an inspired idea and gods:
“Five minutes left to show you just how big of a mistake you’ve made.”
Is such a badass line and mental image!!!
Great intro with Adrien's scene, smoothly setting up Nino's upcoming presence and I love the Marinette ramble slipping out as Ladybug! Also gosh his minimal self worth and wow, thinking he can get the Black Cat back even without a Miraculous of his own, optimism bordering on delusion there I'm afraid.
Very swift intro with the Snake and Aspik, it makes sense to skip it even if I was curious, also love Marinette oscillating between her LB person and Marinette vibes. Also oh dear, he went with the bald cap again and aaaah you fools why did you separate, that didn't work out last time now did it!?
Holy fuck that was brutal, easily her most heartbreaking Adrien chapter, this whole experience is borderline cosmic horror in terms of vibes as a thousand truths overlay and his perceptions crumble, heavy stuff! "Would that have been what made her give it back?" That is still your focus my boi?!
Nino is such a ride or die guy, I love him, great sensation work for Adrien and oooh setting up a future conversation that I really wanna see!
& Trixx is here, to make us all cheer, because oh so many questions now rear! I lost the rhyming scheme but suffice to say excellent lead out location, loved all of this! 
Crossing Blades: An ML Fanfic Chapter 1 of 3
Next installment in my Chloe goes back in time AU! Link to AO3, then full text of the chapter below the cut.
Crossing Blades
The warning continued to blare on the ancient radio. It almost overrode the sounds of panic coming through the thin windows and walls of the backroom apartment. Wang Fu paced like a caged animal, twisting the bracelet on his wrist over and over. Beside him Wayzz hung in the air, concerned but silent.
Master Fu stopped in place, eyes narrowed at some unseen ghosts of the past, or future. “I must act. Wayzz, shell on!”
In a flash of green, casual clothing was replaced with armor and mask. Jade Turtle stepped up to the gramophone with determination in his manner. Tap, taptap, tap. Out came the miracle box.
Ignoring the two that remained on the top layer, he reached into a side drawer and took out the snake miraculous. He paused only once, turning away with the green band in hand. Is this the correct path? A life of running had not prepared him for a fight.
Without looking back, Jade Turtle closed the miracle box. The snap of the lid renewed his flagging conviction. This was right. He could bring things back under control and set them in balance once more.
If only he had looked back, he might have seen the fox tail necklace judder and bounce. He might have seen it hop from the box and hook itself to the back of his belt. He might have seen the little fox kwami blinking into existence, the culprit behind the jewelry’s odd behavior, then blink out again.
But, he did not.
-----------------
Ladybug ducked between two buildings. She had no idea if the narrow alleyway was a dead end, she just needed breathing room. Squads of black armored knights marched up and down the streets, attacking anyone caught outside at will. Dark clouds painted the sky, casting everything into deep shadows.
She believed the source to be at city hall, a new akuma -of course- but she needed more to go on. She also needed a partner. She was *this* close to wishing for the Miraculous thief to show up, just to have someone watch her back against the legion of minions this akuma commanded.
To think, this morning had seemed like such a big deal only a few hours ago.
“Good morning everyone. Before we start for today, it’s time to elect your class representative.” Ms. Bustier had spoken in a chipper but uncertain tone. She gestured to Chloé in the front seat, “Chloé, I haven’t heard from Sabrina yet, but can we count on the two of you again this year?”
“What?” a muddled reply came, “No, ugh. I don’t want to be stupid representative anymore. Someone else do it.”
That had brought Marinette out of her own thoughts. Chloé had been weird lately, but Marinette had had her own problems to deal with. However, passing up prestige, not being the bigwig in the room? That was something else entirely. Marinette looked down at the back of Chloé’s head. Was the ponytail frizzed today? There was body language there that felt off, the set of her shoulders wasn’t right. Marinette had gotten good at reading Chloé’s moods in self defense.
Ms. Bustier’s lips made a surprised ‘oh’ and she looked up,”Well does anyone else want to run for the position?”
The kind of absolute silence that can only come from asking for a volunteer echoed back at her.
Ms. Bustier clasped her hands and tried again, “Chloé, why not be representative again this year? You know the most about it. You’re right here at the front of the room too. If things are a bit hectic, I’m sure we can work something out…”
“I said No!” Chloé slammed her palms down on the desk and stood up so fast Sabrina fell off the bench as it moved. “If being at the front means I have to do it, FINE!”
She grabbed her bag and stalked back to the rear of the room. All eyes followed her but no one dared say a word. Rose scooted closer to Juleka. Ivan’s brows lowered as she passed. Nathaniel’s eyes began to widen as she approached his desk.
*Thump* She shoved her bag onto it. Nathaniel’s eyes darted, he seemed paralyzed. Chloé’s face flushed for a moment then she grabbed his sketchbook from the desk.”You sit in the front now!”
The hurled sketchbook opened in mid-flight like a wounded bird, flapping and spinning until it landed on the front desk then skittered off the other side to the floor. Ms. Bustier’s eyes tracked its entire flight. There was one more beat of silence then she looked up.
“Ms. Bourgeois, that is no way to-”
“I know I know. I suck, whatever. Shut up. I’m in the back now, I can’t be the rep. Someone else do it.” Chloé dropped herself onto the bench beside Nathaniel, who fell off the other side, scrambling to escape.
He scuttled down to the front. Ms. Bustier met him and handed him his sketchbook with a gentle, ”Please put this away during the lesson, Nathaniel.” before looking up to the back. “Ms. Bourgeois, see me after class.”
An honest to God hiss was her answer to that.
Ms. Bustier quickly replaced the serene mask she normally wore, “So, it appears the field is indeed wide open. Would no one else like to take the reins and lead our class to the future?”
Alya’s elbow dug lightly into Marinette’s side. “You should do it,” her friend whispered.
Marinette bit her lip. It would be work, more work on top of Ladybug. She didn’t want to let anyone down either. She was always late, even before the miraculous. Surely someone else could do it, right?
“I don’t have time. Why don’t you try it?” Marinette whispered back.
“La-dy Blog,” Alya sing-songed. “Come on, maybe you could get Adrien to be your assistant.”
That sparked a whole ball of feelings. Imagined black cat ears popped into being atop Adrien’s head in Marinette’s mind. Adrien, Cat Noir, a chance to be partners again?
“Mylene!” Alix broke the silence that had settled again.
The redhead gave the girl beside her a friendly shove.
“You’re always into political stuff. Why don’t you do it?”
Mylene smiled for a second before shrinking in her seat. “I umm, don’t know. I’ve never actually been in charge of anything before.”
Alix leaned grinned down at Ms. Bustier, “I nominate Mylene! We can do that, right?”
The relief was clear on the teacher’s face, “Yes! Yes of course, nominations are allowed, though they need to be accepted.”
“Cool. Then that. I nominate. Come on, Mylene. Show us what you got.”
After a look towards Ivan, and another downcast fidget in her seat, Mylene finally nodded.
Marinette sagged with relief. That was taken care-
Alya’s voice, “Well, I nomi-”
A storm of images hit Marinette. Pressure, uncertainty, working with Adrien, not working with Adrien. Mylene working with Adrien, of all the oddball things.
She shot to her feet, “I nominate Alya!”
There was a general classwide blink.
Ms. Bustier nodded, “Alya, would you accept?”
Alya missed a beat, but recovered. “Yeah, sure. That way we get an election, right?” She leaned around Marinette, “We’ll highlight important issues with our speeches, right Mylene?”
Mylene brightened, “Yes, of course!”
There was a general murmur of excitement. Marinette took her seat again, giving Alya a smug look before whispering, “Beat you to it.”
Alya raised an eyebrow. “Girl, I was gonna nominate Adrien. You already said you didn’t want to. I figured it could work the other way too.”
Marinette’s triumphant smile melted into sadness. She slumped face first onto the desk. Alya patted her gently on the back.
“I dunno what about Mr. Modelpants does it for you, but I was trying to help.”
Marinette mumbled against the wood, “You got my vote.” She pushed herself upright and looked down to the row in front of them. “He just seems… nice. I think he deserves a chance.”
Alya’s snort was anything but subtle, “A chance with you, that is quite a reward.”
Marinette went instantly red. “I didn’t- I mean-”
Alya laid a hand on her shoulder, “Relax, girl. I got you.”
“You can speak at my funeral when I die of embarrassment,” Marinette groused.
“I will move the crowds to tears.” Alya nodded solemnly.
Much needed giggles slipped from Marinette’s lips. A sharply cleared throat cut her reply short though.
“Miss Cesaire, you will be ready to deliver your speech in the morning?” Ms. Bustier asked pointedly.
Alya saluted. “Yes Ma’am.”
At the time it had all seemed so important.
Breather over, Ladybug considered her options. She wasn’t even sure where the akuma was. City Hall seemed a good bet. The roving packs of armored warriors were a risk. One on one, she trusted her miraculous enhanced reflexes, but five on one? Ten? She wished for Cat Noir. In a moment of weakness she even felt she would settle for the thief. She needed someone to watch her back. She needed a partner.
A flash of motion -above!- Ladybug lashed out and dodged.
Spang!
Her yo-yo rebounded off the wide-brimmed metal hat of a green glad warrior. “Hold, Ladybug! I am ally, not foe!”
Ladybug kept her yo-yo at the ready. “Ally? Who are you?”
He raised his head, revealing the green mask and a smile. “I am the Guardian of the Miraculous. You may call me Jade Turtle.”
She sized him up quickly. Her height, her age? It was impossible to tell much from behind a mask. He held himself with poise, but also hunched like his namesake, as if awaiting a blow. “Guardian? What is that? Do you know what’s going on?”
He bowed his head a fraction, “I do, and I will share what I can with you once the crisis has passed. I have brought you the means to garner an ally in this battle.”
He unhooked a small box from his belt and opened it. Inside lay an unassuming bracelet of Jade.
“This is the Miraculous of the snake, which holds the power of intuition. It will allow the wearer to loop time, up to five minutes, to find the correct path to victory. Give it to one you trust.”
Adrien. The name popped instantly into Ladybug’s mind. She could have her partner back. She reached for the box but paused. “Will you be fighting with us too?”
Jade Turtle shook his head, “I am here to reclaim what is lost. I expect the black cat will make an appearance, and I will be ready. It is vital the miraculous not fall into the wrong hands.”
Ladybug took the box. Something nagged the back of her mind, but it didn’t translate properly and only, “Are you sure?” left her lips.
Jade Turtle nodded and ran his fingers along the brim of his metal hat. “Yes, almost as sure as I was in choosing you to be Ladybug.”
With that he turned and vaulted up out of the alley to the rooftops.
The box was heavy in Ladybug’s hand as her eyes lingered after the only person with any answers to her questions. Adrien. I can get this to Adrien. No rooftops for me though. I can’t risk being seen and followed.
Ladybug checked the end of the alleyway and then scurried back towards school, and she hoped, an ally.
--------------------------------------
Jade Turtle moved quickly as possible, keeping to the shadows. Avoiding being seen was still an ingrained habit. That which was not known could not be pursued, much less caught. The city swarmed with units of armored knights marching in formations. They were a concern, but also, he suspected, the perfect bait. His instincts proved correct. Commotion, running soldiers, and sounds of battle drew him to his quarry. 
The new holder of the black cat stood in a swath of carnage. Fallen knights littered the ground like leaves, but there was a lull. Only one knight still stood, sword held robotically en garde against her.
Jade Turtle's eyes scanned the scene quickly. He broke cover, “No! Wait!”
Too late. The black cat moved, slipping the knight's stiff guard and lashing out. Claws tore metal and everything beneath with equal ease. The knight crumpled into the pile.
“You! You! They are being controlled by the akuma! They are innocent people!”
She seemed to register only slowly. Feline disinterest painted across her sharp features. “Who are you supposed to be? Sewer Hat Boy?”
He raised his own guard as he approached. He knew better than to trust the languid curiosity in those mismatched eyes. “My name is unimportant. My purpose is to reclaim the black cat from you. You are not the one destined to hold it.” He directed a pointed glance down to the fallen bodies. “And you paint yourself unworthy by deed as well.”
She tilted her head slowly, then kicked the body at her feet. “They’ll be fine once stupid Ladybug does her thing. As for my miraculous, oh just you try to take it.”
Jade Turtle steeled himself and dropped into a fighting stance. “As you wish. These bones may be old, but they know many secrets.”
With the moment at hand Jade Turtle hesitated, how best to attack? He must strip the ring from her hand. Protection would be the key. He cou-
There was no warning in her eyes, no tension in her stance, none of the things he had learned to look for. She dropped into a hunched run, legs powering her into a lurching drunken charge that devoured the space between them.
Jade turtle jerked backwards. A clawed swipe slashed through the air where his throat had been. Another lunged for his eyes.
Block. Block. Redirect. Turn. Clear roo- no she was on him again. Catch. Twist. Her whole body moved as bonelessly as her namesake, spinning her whole body in the air around the pivot of his wristlock. Her claw toed boot scored lines in his metal hat.
Jade Turtle tried to disengage. He just needed space, time. She dogged his every move. He was being chased again, chased across the street just as he had been chased his whole life. Flashbacks warred with reality. His foe lunged and it wasn’t a child, it was a grown man in a black leather uniform with a very different meaning. Jade Turtle had been helpless then, he wasn’t now.
He lashed out and struck the man a deeply deserved killing blow to the sternum. Contact evaporated the memory. The child collapsed the ground in its place, but rebounded impossibly.
“So that’s how it is…” She gritted through clenched fangs. “Cataclysm!”
He’d lost control! Dodge. Dodge. Stagger. Dodge. Dodge. Backpedal. Something in that heterochromic gaze dredged up every fear from his two centuries of running. He couldn’t- he needed- She wouldn’t give him room.
“Protection!”
Instinct took over when reason fled. He met her next swipe and caught her just inside the wrist. The turtle Miraculous did the rest. A bubble of Green around that black death-clad hand.
He panted, keeping her wrist held firmly. ”Now… I’ve got you. Surrender. You can not-”
The Cataclysm vanished.
Motion.
Jade Turtle flinched and it saved his life.
Her free hand came around, sparking with destruction. It met the dipping edge of his shield hat and blasted it apart in an instant. The feedback robbed him of his senses and strength. Jade turtle fell. He sensed more than saw the shadow looming over him.
“Five minutes left to show you just how big of a mistake you’ve made.”
----------------------------------------------------------
The difference five minutes could make; a million times over.
“Adrien!”
Adrien skidded to a stop at the sound of that voice. He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder, it looked like he had finally lost them. He turns his gaze skyward just as Ladybug landed beside him.
She unclipped a small box from her hip as she straightened up, holding it out.  “Am I glad to see you! I looked at your house first and you weren’t there, so then I checked the school. You weren't there either, so I tried all the streets in between and-”
She paused, withdrawing the box slightly.
“What are you doing out here?”
Adrien looked down, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I thought, I mean I hoped, maybe I might still be useful. If I could, maybe at least find the akuma and report back.”
Or find Chloé and get the cat back. Or anything just to not be a disappointment. Well, not a disappointment to her. He was pretty sure Alya and Nino wouldn’t be happy with him for running off. He had glimpsed Nino running after him, even.
Ladybug made a soft sound in her throat, “Adrien, you’re amazing,” his heart swelled, “I don’t want you to be running around without a miraculous though. It’s dangerous out here. It’s a miracle you haven’t been caught and turned into one of these knight-zombie things. That’s why-”
Adrien looked up, sure the axe would fall now. He couldn’t account for the color on Ladybug’s cheeks, or the softness when she held the box out again.
“That’s why I’ve got something for you. It’s the snake Miraculous. With it you can help me again. We can defeat this akuma, get back your miraculous, and stop Hawkmoth!”
She’d laid out the snake’s powers. Sass had been more reserved than Plagg, but polite. When Adrien had transformed into Aspik he’d thought he’d caught Ladybug giggling behind her hand, but she flashed him a big smile nonetheless. She even rubbed his new costume’s smooth head ‘for Luck’. The plan was simple, split up and circle City Hall north and south. See what could be seen and meet up on the other side.
That had been less than ten minutes ago.
It had been months ago.
Aspik had spotted Chloé midway through his sweep. She ran on rooftops, wielding the power of the black cat, his power. The power he’d lost. He had the perfect chance to get it back, as many chances as needed. Aspik had activated Second Chance and altered his course. He couldn’t fail.
Reset. Come from the right. Reset. Try the left. Reset. Try reasoning. Reset. Threatening. Reset. Bargaining. Reset. Fight. Reset. Angry. Reset. Screaming. Reset. Go for the ring. Reset. Go for a knockout. Reset. Try to call Ladybug. Reset. Ladybug arrives on her own and catches a cataclysm. Reset. Reveal who he is. Reset. Again. Reset. Again. Reset. Reset. Reset. He’s hanging over the edge of a roof, danglinging from her grip on his wrist. The last light is blinking on the bracelet. He can’t reach- She smirks and twists the bracelet for him. Reset. Reset. Reset. Something is happening. Reset. The world feels thin. Reset. Spots at the edges of his vision. Reset. No, spots in the sky. Reset. Destruction. Reset. Cataclysm lingering. Reset. Wearing away these five minutes like a thread pulled back and forth through the eye of a needle too many times. Reset. He can’t fail! Reset. He has to prove- Reset. To Ladybug. Reset. He is-
Falling…
He can’t remember what he said this time. He can’t remember who threw the first punch. A thousand thousand truths overlap and spill out, covering his senses.  There’s only one consistency. He lost, again.
Aspik hits the pavement hard. A storm of black lightning tears at the sky for three, two, one. The snake Miraculous chirps one last warning and powers down. The storm vanishes. Time, no longer abused, marches on. It leaves him behind again. Chloé didn’t even spare him the benefit of a backward glance this time. Would it have even mattered if she did? Would seeing him defeated by her hand again have been the right or wrong thing to do? Would it have made her pause? Would that have been what made her give it back?
He feels numb. The street is a too-hard bed but he feels like he could sleep for a decade if he just closed his eyes. The overcast clouds no longer threaten the end, but are still a reminder of the akuma at large.
“Adrien!” Nino’s voice is so out of place it takes a moment for Adrien to recognize it.
Adrien turns his head, still not ready to move beyond that, to watch his friend rushing headlong down the empty street. Nino? Why are you here? It’s dangerous. Too dangerous.
“Dude! Are you okay? Can you stand?” Nino drops to one knee and tries to haul Adrien to his feet.
The answers quickly present themselves. No, and No. Adrien is beyond exhausted. His legs won’t hold him. He stumbles into Nino. His throat feels like sandpaper. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, dude.” Nino loops Adrien’s arm over his shoulders and tries to take on more of the weight. Adrien’s legs still aren’t cooperating.
Ha. Hero saved by a civilian. But then, what’s the difference? Adrien found the strength to push Nino off gently, but not the strength to keep standing once he had. He sat down hard, but pulled the Snake Miraculous off his wrist.  A weary Sass sprang into being, hovering low in the air.
Nino blinked, ”Dude?”
Adrien waved him off with a floppy hand. “No time. Ladybug needs help. Defeat the Akuma. Tell Sass ‘Scales Slither.’ Bracelet resets things. Five minutes tops. Help Ladybug.”
Nino’s eyes darted between Sass and the bracelet Adrien was holding out in a trembling hand. Shock and fear each had a turn, but determination was right on their heels. He took the bracelet from Adrien’s hand, “I’ll try.”
Adrien remembered, “Get the cat back for Ladybug, if you can.”
Sass managed to perk some, and the transformation worked. Snake-clad Nino turned in the direction Adrien pointed, but before leaping away called back over his shoulder, “You have so much explaining to do, dude.”
And with that, he was gone.
Adrien fell back onto his back, ready to let the darkness of sleep take him, hopefully before more knights showed up.  Instead a new, high pitched, scratchy voice reached his ears.
“Hey. Hey you. I’ve got a proposition for you. We can both help each other out.”
18 notes · View notes
sysig · 11 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
I think the world is so wonderful... (Patreon)
#My art#Handplates#UT#Papyrus#I have not been able to get this idea out of my head for like - days now lol#It's only solidified the more I read! Heck!!#I dunno if I was necessarily hoping that reading further would point me in another direction but no now this is one of his songs lol#I really like Rugrats Theory actually :) The song of course it's lovely but I even have some nostalgia for the creepypasta haha#Been a while since I read it tho so that's probably just the soft haze of memory talking lol#But the song is still great! I'm partial to the English cover but I like the original as well :)#There are just so many fun lyrics! Especially for Papyrus specifically#''Everything I've been told I believe and yet people that I love just leave'' Gasterrr#''I think I'm old enough to understand so there's no reason to hide from me'' Sanssssssss#Once I returned to the scene of Sans trying to lie to him I just fjdslahfd these lyrics would Not leave me alone lol#I'm also Extremely partial to the second verse surrounding blindness and willful ignorance - his vision problems literal and metaphorical!#I wasn't planning to start a Handplates playlist but I guess by this point it's kinda too late haha#I also tried a different style of shading for this one ♪ Trying to style match a bit hehe#It's fun! Scratchy - tho some of that is from still using my usual brushes lol#I was Very inspired by watching the comic creation playlist - so cool! Very fun to watch and pick up ideas hehe#I knew I forgot something lol dang it - forgot the dash between WDG-2#S'what I get for using pre-plates references :P#For just a quick little thing I'm fairly pleased overall tho :)
361 notes · View notes
bonaesperanza · 10 months ago
Text
I just realized that Ekaterin Vorkosigansaga's maiden name is Vorvayne because the structure and nature of her and Miles's romance are heavily inspired by Sayers's Wimsey novels, in which the romantic heroine is called Harriet Vane.
55 notes · View notes
hikarry · 5 days ago
Note
Whats your idea of a perfect date
Perfect date? In my eyes, it's all about the little things.
I don't have a license and I don't want to have one, but it would start with a good drive while I play passenger princess, enjoying the open road. I don't trust myself behind a wheel, but I love being driven around, I love velocity and long long trips. Sometimes I do enjoy the car drive more than the destination, but welp
Stopping by a pub or a dark, smoky bar with a jazz band playing in the background. Good drinks, good music...or a cafe and share a good cappuccino - each with their own. I dunnot share my caffeine
Followed by a moonlit stroll in a beautiful park by a river, ending with… watching the stars together
Sitting on a rooftop with a view of the city could also be fun, even though I'm afraid of heights
Maybe some more pleasurable activities afterwards, if we feel so inclined
But, alas, I don't exactly believe in perfect dates. Life is too messy and unpredictable for perfectly curated moments.
Tumblr media
#asks#anon#lgbtqia#lesbian#all this to say: i've never been on a real date not really#i just write a lot of romance and live through my characters while romancing myself inside my head#why the sudden romantic asks tho#did i receive this around february?#...#no! this was in august!#anyway yeah dated a considerable amout of people but never went on a real romantic cliché date#ngl i think i've been on more romantic-ish “dates” with my best friend than any other person#agh okay i shouldn't have said that imagining my dear girl in a romantic way is making my skin crawl#not that she aitn a gorgeous lil thing but she is _not_ my type and she's like a sister to me </3 and she is os so very straight#it's as one of my friends says: some people are just good for hookups and that's how it is#actually#book shopping date? sounds extremely perfect if you ask me#oof wait can you imagine a cosplay date? now that would scratch an itch i'm sure#ohohohohohohohohohoh date at the theatre? concert date?#gay#very gay#maybe the zoo? i've never been to a proper zoo#actually i think i've written so much romance i became my own ideal date who absolutely egotistical is that#*gasp* good omens date that turns into a good shag because we can't take the tension between the two idiots? hm yes#i would maybe even consider a dancing related date but i don't dance#not in a dignified way anyway#could it be considered a date if you both just bring your laptops and write gay fanfics together? cause that sounds delicious#“trying to write some smut are we? c'mere lemme give ya some inspiration”
2 notes · View notes
toytulini · 3 months ago
Text
I think making sweeping generalizations of specific traits being considered "ugly" is not great the same way i think its rude and unnecessary to call others ugly, i also think its worthwhile to acknowledge that certain traits ARE considered "Ugly" due to societal beauty standards, that doesn't make them ACTUALLY ugly, bc beauty is subjective anyway, and can be found Anywhere, and even someone who seems to tick every single box of societal beauty Ideals will almost certainly have at least one trait or feature about their appearance that they are insecure about or feel is "ugly", bc even within the constraints of conventional attractiveness theres subjectivity
also this fish was so fucking Ugly and i adored it so much. i miss him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
he was also gorgeous.
#toy txt post#toy pic post#he passed in like. man. i want to say 2019? his name was Gus. he was a pink kissing gourami#the thing about albino fish is that they always look a little bit sickly and concerning. his head always seemed a little big for his body#like he was really old. when i got him he looked so bad cos he had wounds all over him from dads fish that got infected and the dude#straight up looked like a zombie. every day id wake up and prepare myself to find him dead. but he recovered and never went back in w the#fish that injured him. his face was hideous. he looked pale and sickly. his head was a little too big like he was super old#his scales were iridescent and pretty and shimmery. he had no concept of giving a shit about me finding him beautiful or not. not even on#his mind. simply not something he would think about. now. im sure he'd have some sort of beauty standard to hold himself to for mating if#that had been an option for him. but it wouldnt be the same. idk. i just. i love the idea. of animals that are not traditionally cute or#beautiful or charismatic and the fact that they do not give a single fucking shit what we think of the way they look. BOTH ways. a#a butterfly does not give a single thought tohow beautiful or inspiring you find the colors of its wings. the wolf fish does not care that#humans find it hideous and terrifying. it just looks the way that it does. its fine. its vibing. it just wants to live and survive and get#enough food. yes beauty is everywhere but so is ugly. and there is beauty in ugly. to me. there is beauty in not even thinking about#standards to be conformed to or not. the beauty is irrelevant. its not For You. it doesnt Matter. its just Existing. if you like how it#looks while it exists? great! good for you. if you dont? okay cry about it i guess. this ugly ass fish doesnt give a shit if humans find it#beautiful or not. he was just going to continue to use his lips covered in teeth to scrape biofilm and algae off the surface of rocks and#driftwood and play in the current of the filter.#let girls be ugly the way marine iguanas dont give a shit if humans find them pretty cos theyre just sunning themselves and eating seaweed#off rocks. all humans are beautiful. all humans are ugly. it doesnt matter. let us go dive into the ocean and scrape seaweed off the rocks#and then bask in the sun on a warm rock and not fucking worry about that#anyway also Yes ive seen uglier fish than him.i know they exist. but he was also special cos he was My Fish u see
3 notes · View notes
gojorgeous · 10 months ago
Text
"creature of myth."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
Tumblr media
You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
Tumblr media
taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡
32K notes · View notes
basicgrayson · 9 months ago
Text
Found my very first check book today while tidying up, and the duplicates were still tucked in the plastic sleeve. Man, sometimes I forget that I was really out there at 19 in my own apartment paying for my own rent, bills, food and everything else. I wasn't even a year out of high school. Rent was $800 then, which seems ridiculously cheap by today's standards, but I was only making like $1100 month. Damn. Still don't know how I managed that.
1 note · View note
i2sunric · 4 months ago
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 (p.sh)
Tumblr media
“fucking all the time is wrong when you're not mine, baby"
PAIRING: boyfriend's best friend!sunghoon x reader (f)
SUMMARY: just like eva did in the garden of eden, you fell under the serpent's court and now are under his spell. you knew you shouldn't betray your boyfriend, jake, like that when he was (not) so right for you, but seeing that he spent more time out for work made you seek the love and affection you needed, and who if not sunghoon could give you what you deserved?
WARNINGS: cheating (don’t like, don’t read). unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they fuck everywhere and i mean it, toxic, creampie, masturbating, pussy eating, fighting, kissing, jealousy, doggy, missionary, rough blowjob, angst if u squint? jake is a toxic bf, sunghoon low-key corrupts reader, reader is designed with a weak personality. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
(RE)PUBLISHED: 6th August 2024
WC: 13.6k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lilyuwon @whoslai @simhinata @ihrtantn @deobitifull @heeswif3y @skylalyla @lanapaz @run2min @rizz00 @yeorns @rayofsunshineeee @kim2005bomi @lhspeachie @star4rin @nyxtwixx @skipiuki @camprock101 @acolytees @hoonsdrnkdzd @jjklvr9 @sophi-ee @iamliacamila @nctislifue @dengenej @yorukoshii @nshmrarki BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED
a/n: before some loser tries to throw shit at this i have to say that no, cheating is NOT hot and this is purely fictional. this isn’t the only fiction with cheating as a trope and it comes from a project that IS supposed to have heavy and bothering themes, mostly because it comes as inspiration from a song (go listen to it, daniel di angelo ‘GET YOU BETTER’) that gives me toxic vibes. anw, LIKE & REBLOG please and lmk your thoughts (again) on this fic <3
“Again?” You asked with a deep frown after hearing that your boyfriend had yet to go to another work trip, despite having just returned from one “I know baby, what can I do? They need me.” He said it as if you were complaining already.
But could he blame you? You had spent two summer weeks alone and bored without Jake and now you had to go through another couple of weeks.
“Why you? They have other workers.” You commented, raising a brow.
Jake sighed and walked closer to you “Because I’m good, aren’t you proud of me?” You looked away and murmured “Of course i’m proud of you.”
Jake noticed your sudden change of mood and turned you to look at him “Come on, I'll be back before you even realise it.”
You rolled your eyes at his statement, something that Jake did not like “Don’t be selfish, I need to work to have money.”
“I'm not being selfish,” You reminded, tone cold. “I just miss my boyfriend who’d rather be miles away from me.” You snapped, stepping back and crossing your arms to your chest.
Those words had been left unspoken on your tongue for too long to be able to hold them back anymore.
“We both know that’s not true.” He hissed, rubbing his temples “Do we?” You scoffed
Jake clicked his tongue, “Listen, I'm just asking you to understand.”
You frowned again at him “I understand Jake, I've always done it!” Your voice raised out of frustration “So why can’t you understand me?”
“You?” His frown matched yours, a few wrinkles appearing on his forehead “What is there to understand about a needy and clingy girl?”
As soon as those words left his mouth your eyes saddened. Were you really being that whiney? So many questions formed inside your head while Jake regretted ever speaking.
You were just being honest, that’s what Jake always wanted from you; honesty, to voice out your feelings, so why was he mad at you?
“Taking many short distance flights is also not good for your body…” You murmured, bitter tears running down your cheeks, your gaze locked on the ground
Jake’s face softened, realising that you weren’t complaining— you were worried for him “Baby I—“
You shook your head “Save it.” And walked away, disappearing in the bedroom. Jake ran a hand through his hair in frustration, leaving you to cool down.
However you both were two stubborn beings so, instead of resolving it, you laid on opposite sides of the bed with heavy hearts, hoping the night to wash the annoying feelings away.
Heleft early in the morning, without a single message or a note and not even a kiss on your shoulder.
Whenever he had a flight in the night or early morning to catch and you would still be asleep, he used to kiss you softly on the shoulder, but this time he hadn’t.
Had you been too harsh with him the day before? Were you really being selfish?
You glanced at the clock and noticed you had already slept the morning away so you decided to get something done.
You stretched your limbs and exited the bed, doing your usual routine and some chores as well, trying your best not to think about jake. If he wanted to stay mad, so be it.
When you were cleaning the living room’s floor you heard your doorbell ring, so you went to open the door.
In front of you a tall man with a sheepish grin stood, waving his hand “Hi, Y/N.” He greeted warmly
“Hi, Sunghoon.” You said back, stepping aside to let him enter. you closed the door behind your back and walked him to the living room “What’s the occasion?” You asked, smiling
Sunghoon looked around the house “Is Jake home?” You shook your head in reply “He’s on a work trip.”
Sunghoon’s eyes widened “Again?” He asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle, you two had the same reaction to the news of Jake's departure “Again.” You nodded
“Aw, man.” He sighed, “I haven’t seen him in forever since he changed job.” You wanted to reply that you too hadn’t seen him since he decided to pick a job that required to travel around the world, but Sunghoon didn’t need to know that.
Sunghoon tilted his head, looking you up and down “So, home alone?” You smiled sadly “unfortunately.”
He gave you a wide smile, one that showed his two fangs “I took a couple of weeks off work because I had to go on vacation but the hotel shut down,” He seemed to debate whether to continue, but then added “I can keep you company.”
You blinked faintly at his offer, you two weren’t really close, you never really hung out apart from Jake’s friend group so it’d be awkward.
However , loneliness made you desperate so you just smiled in return “why not?”
Little did you know that Sunghoon had another plan in store for you.
⪩⪨
“Good morning, Y/N.” Sunghoon greeted a few days later, entering your house with his awkward yet comforting demeanour.
“Morning.” You said back, guiding him to the kitchen and placing down the casket of fruits he had brought you “You didn’t have to..”
“Dot’t be silly, it’s a pleasure.” Sunghoon smiled, sitting on a chair “Can i help you with anything?”
You quickly shook your head “No, no,” You took a pear and showed it to him “I'll cut this so we can eat and chat?” “Sounds good.”
It had become a small occurence that you’d sit together and talk about anything. You two had got to know each other, and you realised you had a completely different prejudice of him.
At first, you thought he was cold and awkward, but he actually was very soft spoken and kind. your heart always felt content when you were with him, but you chose to ignore that detail.
It was probably just because Jake hadn’t replied to your texts since he left the country, your heart was just pulling tricks on you.
You placed a small plate on the table with the pieces of pear and began to talk with him, laughing at a story of his dog scaring Jake's family dog, despite being a lot smaller.
“Layla and Jake are so alike,” You commented, chuckling “Indeed, I see no difference between them. like an owner like a pet." Sunghoon replied, taking a bite of the pear.
A small drop of the fruit’s juice rolled down his cheek, reaching his jawline. You had never paid attention to his features so closely, but he was so attractive. His jaw was sharp, you thought that if you ran your finger on it, it’d cut.
His skin was pale, porcelain-like and his eyes were so dark in contrast, his eyebrows thick and hair that seemed so fluffy.
Before the drop could fall down, you quickly extended yourself and dried it with your thumb, making both of you stop in your tracks. Sunghoon ‘s deep eyes widened and you pulled away “I—I’m sorry..” you stuttered, embarrassed
But Sunghoon didn’t seem to mind “It’s alright, thank you.” He reassured, resuming to tell his story. You try to shake the awkward feeling but get sidetracked when your phone screen lit up.
You quickly took it, hopeful that it was finally a message from your boyfriend, but your face fell when you realised it was just a notification from YouTube.
You sighed and looked so gloomy, like a whole storm fell over your shoulders, Sunghoon blinked faintly “Are you ok?”
You didn’t want to annoy him with your problems, you two had just started to be friends, but you just needed someone.
All your friends were busy working or living their adulthood somewhere, while you had been inside that house too much it felt almost sickish.
You sighed “It’s just that Jake and I had a small argument, right before he left.” Sunghoon’s eyes were so attentive you felt exposed, so kind and gentle.
“Is that so?” He asked, letting you know that he was listening “Yes,” You breathed out “We said harsh things and now he won’t even reply to my texts.”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched at your admission, How could Jake ever ghost you? He could be mad all he wanted, but he was on the other side of the earth, for Christ’s sake, he could at least reply to your texts just like he did to Sunghoon a few hours before.
Seeing you so sorrowful made his heart ache; he wouldn’t admit it out loud but he had always found you attractive, since the first day he saw you on campus.
Screw his introverted personality, he never tried to speak to you, only admired from afar.
However, when he learnt that his best friend had found a girlfriend and the so-called girlfriend was you, he couldn’t help but blame himself.
Especially since jake was treating you like you weren’t worth anything.
You were worth it, you were everything Sunghoon dreamt of— if only you knew how better he could get you. good for him, he had two weeks to prove you so.
⪩⪨
“You just didn’t strike me as someone who likes doing grocery shopping.” You commented, putting milk inside the cart Sunghoon was gently pushing for you
Truth to be told, Sunghoon hated grocery shopping. He’d rather starve himself than get out of bed to buy himself food, which was why his friend Jay and his mother would often bring him food or just something enough to survive.
But it was for you and you needed to eat to be healthy, he could do an exception.
“I don’t have anything better to do, do I?” He said, chuckling at the sight of you trying to take a bag of chips which was on the top shelf, clearly too high for you.
You felt his figure hovering over you, the warmth of his body surrounding yours, his chest caressing your back as he took the chip for you.
That movement lasted no longer than five seconds but to you, it felt as if time had stopped.
You snapped out of your trance at the sound of the bag of chips being thrown inside the cart and Sunghoon moving forward.
You failed to notice the smirk on his lips, but the man was quick to hide it before his undercover was caught.
“What’s left on your list?” He asked, scanning the cart’s contents to see if he mentally remembered
“Uh—“ You quickly took the grocery list that was crumpled inside your pocket and cleared your throat “Just… donuts.” You said quietly.
You weren’t usually one to overeat, but since your heart was upset, your stomach was the same and you craved junk food.
You waited for Sunghoon to make a comment over it, to call you ‘gross’ the same way Jake once did when he saw you putting a bag of chips — the same type Sunghoon helped you take — inside the cart. You waited for it, but nothing came.
Instead, Sunghoon pushed the cart a little further in the lane until he reached the snacks section and eyed the shelves “There’s strawberry, brown chocolate and oreo.” He turned toward you and looked genuinely interested in your choice.
“Which one do you want?” You blinked faintly, unsure on how to handle that situation. He raised a brow, awaiting your answer “Strawberry.” You murmured.
“Strawberry it is.” He took the donuts and placed them in the cart “Do you want something?” You asked, reaching for him with a smile.
“Me?” You nodded in reply “Yes, take something you like, I’ll sugar mama you.” You joked nudging his shoulder.
Sunghoon stayed silent a few beats, “No.” He said sternly, “I’ll buy this for you.” He pointed to the food you wanted to purchase.
Your brows furrowed “What?” Sunghoon smiled, a wicked grin creeping on his lips “I’ll sugar daddy you.”
It seemed like you had hurt his pride trying to say you’d pay for his food, but you still didn’t want him to spend money on you, so you shook your head “That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.” He took another small cartoon of donuts and placed it in the cart, hurrying away before you could talk back. You reached him again “No, Sunghoon.”
“Yes, Y/N.” He kept taking useless things from the shelves and you kept putting them back, this went on for almost two whole lanes until you placed yourself in front of the cart.
Sunghoon tilted his head “What?” You narrowed your eyes, clearly upset. Seeing your change of mood made Sunghoon freeze. Did he overdo it?
He let out a small sigh “Alright, I’ll stop adding things.” You nodded satisfactorily, placing yourself back by his side.
“But I’ll pay.” Your head snapped back to him and Sunghoon chuckled “It’s the least I can do, you invite me to your house and I pay for your groceries, it’s even.”
Arguing with Sunghoon seemed to be a losing battle, so you just nodded your head and smiled back at him “Okay, thank you.”
“Anything for you.” They were just three words, but they were the most sincere you’ve ever heard.
After paying for your groceries, you two made your way towards the parking lot, you walked in front of a window, a crimson short dress on a mannequin.
You stopped to glance at it for a few seconds, your eyes sparkling. Sunghoon noticed you stopping and took a few steps back “Like it?” He asked, smiling at you
You were so stunned you just nodded in reply, eyes still glued to the dress. It seemed so perfect, sleeveless and not too short but not too long as well. You could see strings on the back, leaving it a little exposed.
“You want to try it?” At his question you snapped out of thoughts, turning to face Sunghoon (who was also a rather nice view).
“No, no, we should go home.” Sunghoon frowned at your reply “But you like it.”
You sighed softly and chuckled “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I should try it.” He eyed the dress and then you, studying you from head to toe “Even if I want to see you in it?”
His words took you by surprise and you widened your eyes “W-what?” He smirked, his fangs showing from the corner of his lips “Let’s enter.” He took your hand and dragged you inside the shop.
He sat on a small sofa in front of the dressing room, patiently waiting for you to try that dress on.
The way your eyes seemed to light up made him want to buy you anything if it meant to see your pretty face smile and be bright.
He knew you were still shaken from your argument with Jake, and by the fact that the bastard was obviously ghosting you, and he’d do anything to take that sorrow away from you.
“Ready?” He asked after a few minutes of not hearing anything from you.
You carefully opened the curtain and lord if he didn’t get an erection on the spot.
Seeing that tiny dress hugging your perfect curves, the shy blush on your cheeks and still that perfect smile on your lips “It’s so beautiful.” You commented
“Give me a twirl.” He asked and you complied, twirling gracefully “You’re beautiful.” Your smile lit up the whole room, you nodded in reply “I think it’s pretty nice.”
Sunghoon stood up and walked toward you, his arms raising and taking your hair away from your back.
The proximity between you two made your breath hitch once again. You could smell his manly cologne and the fabric softener of his hoodie.
“This should be tied.” He murmured in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His breath hit your skin, so warm. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish tying the lace behind your back.
He placed your hair back where they were and placed one strand behind your ear. He pulled away satisfied and smiled “Now, that’s even better.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room and Sunghoon brought his hands on your shoulder. He leaned beside your ear and whispered huskily “Let me buy it for you.”
Your brows shot up and you quickly shook your head “I can’t let you do that.” Sunghoon gave you a mesmerising smile from the mirror “Why not?”
“Because you already paid for the groceries.” Sunghoon tsked at your reasoning “And?”
“And it’d be too much if you also bought this dress. Besides, I don’t even have a reason to wear it.”
“We’ll make one.” You felt a sudden rush of coldness when his breath left your skin and he stepped away “It’s settled, I’ll buy it.”
You turned around, “But—“ He brought a finger to your lips “Sh, I said I’d sugar daddy you and I always keep my word.”
⪩⪨
Y/N: Please Jake, can you reply to me?
Y/N: It’s been five days, at least let me know you’re fine.
You sighed and dropped the phone on the mattress beside you, tired of reading ‘delivered’ beside your messages. Had you crossed the line when you argued? Personally, you thought what Jake said was far worse, but you were ready to forgive him if only he swallowed his pride.
You bit your bottom lip, your body craving to be touched and screaming for release.
Not only had you and Jake not spent time together, but it had also been more than a month since you last had sex.
You tried to ignore your primal urges, however your hips unconsciously moved back and forth, trying to soothe the aching feeling between your legs.
Your breath got heavier as you let your palm wander under your nightgown, touching, trying to turn yourself on.
You bit your bottom lip, your hand reaching down to touch your clit, circling it with your fingers; using your slick to wet it more.
You slid one digit inside of you, fingering yourself for what seems like ten minutes, trying to find that one spot that makes your head spin— it didn’t feel good.
You decided to try and squeeze your breasts, fingering yourself at a fast speed… nothing seemed to work out.
Frustrated, you pulled your fingers out and curled yourself in a small ball, checking your phone just to see that again, Jake had not texted you.
At that moment, a new message popped on your screen.
Sunghoon: Hey Y/N, movie night tomorrow?
You unconsciously smiled and replied with a positive answer, feeling strangely giddy at the thought of having another plan with him.
Y/N: Sounds good.
It didn’t take much for him to text you back, only a few seconds needed.
Sunghoon: Awesome. Tomorrow @ 9pm?
Y/N: Yup. I’ll make sure to do some pop corns.
Sunghoon: Haha ok
You turned off the lights, placed the phone back on the bedside table and tucked yourself under the covers, ready to fall asleep when it buzzed again.
You took it, the screen light too bright for your poor eyes. You narrowed them, trying to read the new messages
Sunghoon: What are you doing now?
Your cheeks flushed at the thought of what you had been doing before he texted you.
Y/N: About to sleep
Sunghoon: Aw :(
Y/N: Why the sad face?
Sunghoon chuckled at your innocence and kind self. He bit his bottom lip and leaned back on the chair, typing his reply.
Sunghoon: I was playing a game and wanted some company.
Y/N: I’m not really sleepy
His eyebrows raised, he thought you’d just turn him off.
Maybe his plan was working.
Sunghoon: Can I call you?
You jolted up, sitting on the bed and looking around in panic.
Y/N: Voice call?
Sunghoon: Anything you want, x
The way Sunghoon was treating you wasn’t the way you treated fiends, but you decided not to overthink it much. Sunghoon’s contact name flashed on your screen as he called you.
You cleared your throat and tapped on the green button.
“Hey,” His voice came out as hoarse from the other line “Hi.” You whispered back, hugging your knees to your chest and fidgeting with the sheets
You could hear some keyboard tapping and asked “What are you playing?” Sunghoon chuckled “League of Legends.”
You hummed “I’ve never played.” Sunghoon let out a sound of disbelief “Never? Jake never let you play with him?”
Jake would always complain when you ever interrupted his gaming nights with friends, “No.” You replied simply.
“Shoot!” He exclaimed from the other line, making you jump in surprise and gasp “Sorry about that— I didn’t mean to startle you.” He was quick to apologise.
“It’s okay,” You reassured, not wanting him to feel guilty about that. “So, how was your day?”
You two started talking about everything and anything, laughing and just enjoying each other's company.
You hadn’t even realised you had fallen asleep, your light snores and deep breaths probably became Sunghoon’s favourite sounds.
Because he never hung up, not until you woke up the next morning and did it yourself.
⪩⪨
Something didn’t feel quite right that day, you let Sunghoon inside your apartment and the two of you prepared the living room for the movie night… but he had something different. Perhaps, the other night something changed between you two.
Maybe it was his not-combed hair, all fluffy and wild, or the white tee he was wearing that showed the shadow of his muscles and abs— or maybe the grey sweats he was wearing. You gulped down, it was you, you were the one off.
Not cumming for so much time did tricks to your brain.
You decided to ignore it and you two sat side by side, but still keeping distance “What movie do you wanna watch?”
Sunghoon asked, lazily eating a pop corn while scrolling through Netflix “Cause I had one in mind, but we can watch something else if you want.”
You hummed “What did you have in mind?” Your voice was softer and quieter, making Sunghoon feel goosebumps all over his skin.
Oh, the effect you had on him.
He took one pillow and sneakingly placed it on his laps, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was trying to cover his growing bulge.
“How to lose a guy in ten days?” He asked, faking innocence when you widened your eyes and physically squeaked “I love that movie!”
“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked but he already knew the answer. you had said that one day when you were having a group hang out with the others.
He remembered, actually, he remembered every detail of you— even the ones you may think of stupid.
“Then, let’s watch it.” He said and clicked play, the movie beginning peacefully.
It all went alright until Sunghoon’s knee got closer and closer, touching yours.
He acted oblivious, focusing on the scene unfolding in front of him but he was painfully aware of you.
Maybe it was also because of your exposed thighs, the shorts hugging your legs so perfectly, making him almost drool. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
Seeing that you didn’t reject his touch, Sunghoon grew a little bolder and placed his hand on your thigh, caressing it.
An alarm inside your conscience screamed danger! stop! but something told you that his touch was safe, soothing and so attractive.
Your mind went to Jake, how he would react if he ever saw your best friend touching your thigh, too close to where he shouldn’t be touching.
Nonetheless, Jake was so far away and Sunghoon so close to you, his hand slowly creeping closer to where you ached, where you just needed him.
Your breath hitched and your stiff state made sunghoon smirk sly. his plan was working smoothly.
His hand squeezed the flesh beside your thigh as your gaze was still fixed on the tv; however your attention was all on the coldness of his fingers, the way they felt on your skin.
“Sunghoon.” You wanted to say sternly but only a small whisper left your lips “Hmm?” He hummed, his dark eyes back on you
You gulped down and turned your head to meet his face, you glanced at the hand on your thigh and shook your head “You should stop.”
“Stop?” Sunghoon asked, his voice teasing and soft “It seems to me that you are enjoying my touch.”
Deny was what your brain told you to do but his hand moved even closer, resting just below the hem on your shorts.
Your hesitation made Sunghoon’s smirk turn more cunning, “What is on your mind?” He asked, his position shifting so his whole body was facing yours, the pillow falling on the floor.
You didn’t move a bit.
“That it’s weird…” You murmured “What you’re doing.”
“Yeah?” He cooed “And why do you think that?” He asked and his finger tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making a small tint of blush appear on your cheeks
You weren’t naïve, you knew what Sunghoon was hinting at with his actions and words.
You knew it, yet you didn’t want it to stop.
“Because Jake wouldn’t like it.” At your words, Sunghoon’s smirk fell.
You were loyal and that was admirable, but it was only because his best friend made a move on you first, before he built the courage to talk to you.
Though Jake wasn’t treating you like you deserved, like Sunghoon would.
“Don’t think about him,” He said, his voice harsher than he intended to “Think about me.”
You watched him with hooded eyes as his hand that was tucking the small strand of hair behind your ear slowly slid down your shoulder.
Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat and your breath heavier than before.
“This is wrong.” You whispered, unable to voice out the coherent thoughts forming in your brain with his hands touching you ever so gently “we shouldn’t do this.”
Sunghoon gave you a smile that was meant to be reassuring even if it was just victorious.
He knew you’d give in to him, sooner or later.
“It's wrong only if Jake finds out.” He looked down at your body, the way your nipples hardened and their outline could be seen from the shirt, he licked his bottom lip “Besides, don’t act like you don’t want it to happen as well.”
Silence filled the room except for the sound of the long forgotten movie, Sunghoon could sense your hesitation and your pretty brain overthinking, so he let out a small sigh “I’ll try something, you can tell me to stop if you don’t want to.” He said but remained still, waiting for your permission
“Try what?” You asked, your voice so soft and quiet it made his cock harden inside his sweats
“This.'' His voice sounded more like a growl, Sunghoon cupped the back of your neck while his other hand hooked around your waist, bringing you close; his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses all over.
You instantly closed your eyes and a shaky breath left your lips, Sunghoon took it as a clue to add more pressure and suck small spots, careful not to do anything sudden.
One of your hands raised and placed on his forearm, feeling the muscle of his arm, Sunghoon smirked on your skin and detached himself just enough to talk “Do you want to stop?”
You sighed softly and grasped his hair with your other hand, bringing his mouth down on your neck “Keep going.” You said and sunghoon felt as if he was the luckiest man on earth.
His kisses grew hungrier, not leaving even a single spot untouched by his lips. one hand grasped your hair back, bringing it back to have more room while the other groped your breasts from outside the shirt.
You squeezed your thighs together, trying to find relief. “N-no marks.” you said as he sucked a spot for too long, he pulled away and bit his bottom lip, repressing a chuckle “Too late.”
Before you could reply, his lips found yours in a heated and desperate kiss, it was so wrong but it felt too right to stop.
You let your hands slip under his shirt and roam freely, feeling his sculpted chest under your palms, earning a deep groan from sunghoon.
His tongue slipped inside your mouth, he was the one in control of the kiss but you didn’t mind. You just craved to be taken care of.
He pulled away from you and began to lift your shirt up, too eager to feel your whole body— to make you his even if you didn’t belong to him.
He threw the shirt on the floor and widened his eyes as he saw your naked upper body.
Sunghoon stared in trance at you, but it made you feel self conscious and your arms wrapped around your chest.
Sunghoon frowned, taking your hands away “Never,” He murmured, kissing your lips once more “Never cover yourself from me, understand?” You nodded in response “Yes, Hoon.”
He squeezed your tit and lowered his lips to the other one, sucking on your abused nipple “Such pretty tits.” He commented and you unconsciously grind on the sofa, the wetness of your pussy glistening your panties.
He left one breast to pay attention to the other, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, making you whine “Mhhh.. Hoon.” You encouraged him to continue
Sunghoon smirked and looked at you, moving your hips while your eyes were closed and your mouth slightly opened, soft whimpers exiting it.
“Lay down, princess.” He ordered and you complied. His voice was so low and demanding you thought you’d do anything he asked without contemplating anything. Maybe he truly did a spell on you.
His fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts and he looked at your eyes, waiting for your approval. “Don’t ask,”
You said, trusting him and knowing he’d stop if you ever asked, but Aunghoon pecked your lips “Are you sure you want this?” He asked, because no matter how hard he wanted you, he’d never force himself on you.
You nodded, your mind hazy and you body in need to be touched “Yes— I need you, Hoon.” Your soft pleading made blood rush straight to his cock, the visible bulge pocking through his pants.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned and pulled your shorts down, discarding them on the floor “You’ll be the death of me.” He stared at your body like you were a sculpture to admire at a museum, his hand tracing your curves.
“My gorgeous baby,” Sunghoon noticed the wet patch on your panties and smirked widely “So wet for me? We haven’t even started.” He cooed as he tucked the hem down, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
With one finger he gathered your juices and took his digit inside his mouth, humming in approval “Tastes good, so fucking good.”
At such a sight you couldn’t help but let out a small whine “Hoon..” You murmured and his attention immediately snapped back at you “Yes, baby?”
You moved your hips closer to him “Touch me please.” And how could he say no when you asked so politely?
“Want me to touch you?” His finger went down and played with your clit, making you arch your back “Want me to make you feel good, s’that what you want baby?”
He cooed, one finger slipping inside your needy and wet hole, your walls squeezing around it “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
He frowned, working his finger in and out your hole while you moaned under him “Does jake even touch you, uh?” He scoffed
He added another finger, keeping your legs opened with his other hand.
The movements of his fingers inside of you made you see stars, he was so skilled it almost made you forget you had a boyfriend that should do such filthy things to your body.
Not that you cared at that moment, and neither did Sunghoon.
Your hips moved back and forth to match his digits, deep inside of you.
He curled them and caressed your g-spot, making you squeeze your eyes and pant heavily “Faster.” You asked “Please Sunghoon— feels s’good.” His fingers moved faster and faster, the knot in your stomach about to snap when he abruptly pulled away.
You opened your eyes and whined, looking at him with a huge frown which made Sunghoon smile.
You were so cute like that, face all flushed in desperate need to cum “Don’t worry.” He reassured, pulling his sweat and boxers away “Just wanted you to cum all over my cock.”
You smiled but it soon transformed into a huge jaw drop as you saw how big and fat his cock was. it pulsed, angry red and thick, up on his stomach.
Sunghoon chuckled at your reaction, “Too big for you?” He asked, taking your chin in his hands and bringing your face slightly closer to him “Jake isn’t as big as me, is he?”
“That’s… never gonna fit.” You whispered, embarrassed “We’ll see that.” He pulled your head down on the sofa again and he fisted his shaft, your juices that still coated his fingers acting as lube.
He pressed the tip of his dick by your entrance, teasing it “Hurry.” You whined
Sunghoon smirked “Such a needy girl,” He scowled at you and pushed his cock into you in one deep thrust, making you gasp. you felt so stretched, your walls hugging his member, making his eyes roll back “Shit, princess,” He panted “You’re really so tight,” he pushed himself deeper, already bottoming out.
You whined in a mixture of pain and pleasure, gripping the sofa beneath you, Sunghoon noticed you and connected your lips with his, trying to distract you “Relax,” He cooed, one of his hands caressing your forehead with his thumb “It’s all good, you’re doing so well.”
His sweet words made you instantly relax, you looked at him through your teary eyes and he smiled warmly, pecking your lips once more.
He started moving inside of you, slowly at first and when the pain subdued to pleasure, you moaned “S’deep,” You breathed out, gripping his arm.
Sunghoon couldn’t hold back anymore, his hips started moving faster, your skin slapping together as he tsked “Bet he can’t fuck you like i do,”
He circled your clit with his free hand, while his other snuck around your neck, adding small pressure, just enough to make your mind hazy.
He groaned, trying his best not to cum right there as he heard your sweet moans, your tits moving back and forth alongside your body as he pushed his cock so deep he could see the shadow his bulge in your stomach.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like you deserve,” He kept saying nonsense while you laid under him, the knot in your stomach about to snap.
You nodded at his statement, not registering his words at all “Hoon— s’close, i’m close.” You said, your voice cracked and quiet.
“I know baby,” He circled your clit faster “Can feel you squeeze me— fuck— squeeze my cock.” He threw his head back to move the bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, revealing an image of every girl’s erotic dream.
He felt your walls squeezing his cock, signalling that you were about to fall apart and so he hurried his movements “Don’t cum yet,” He ordered but you shook your head, unable to resist anymore as you came, your orgasm hitting like a crashing wave, making your body squirm underneath him.
Sunghoon slowed his thrusts but never faltered, he helped you ride out of your high until you were able to open your eyes again, your breath so heavy.
He kissed your lips, holding your chin in his fingers while he resumed his speed, trying to reach his own release
You moaned louder, probably even your neighbours could hear you but Sunghoon pushed you to overstimulation, “Gonna cum, just a little more baby.” He panted, gripping both your hips and rutting inside of you until he pulled out and came all over your chest and body, shots of white seed painting you.
You spread it all over yourself, waiting for him to calm down as the realisation of what you had just done hit both of you.
You exchanged no words but Sunghoon carefully scooped your figure from the sofa and carried you bridal style to the bathroom, making you sit as he prepared you a warm bath.
“Hoon..” you murmured, guilt eating you alive. Sunghoon turned around and saw the state you were in.
Ignoring the hard-on he had again at the sight of you all dirty in his cum, he pressed a featherlight kiss on your forehead “Don’t overthink it,” He said gently “it’ll be alright if he doesn’t know, and you can keep a secret, can’t you?”
Sunghoon asked and you nodded “That’s a good girl.” He pecked your lips but you brought him into a deeper kiss and before you knew, his tongue was inside your mouth again.
He reluctantly pulled away, shaking his head, feeling like he’d be taking advantage of you.
Sunghoon closed the tab of the bath and helped you in, despite your legs that were like jelly, you felt refreshed and happier.
He let go of your hand but you didn’t, keeping it secured in yours. He looked at you with a puzzled expression.
“Get inside.” You beckoned to the bath and he shook his head again “I’ll take a shower later.”
You pouted “Let’s save water.” Your eyes were so soft and glossy he couldn’t help but comply and he entered the bathtub with you.
Nedless to say, you found yourself on his laps, needy grinding against his hard cock as you two made out with the warm water around you both.
Maybe you could do more than that while Jake was away.
⪩⪨
The next morning you woke up to a strange sensation between your thighs, it felt hot but also good, waves of pleasure rushing through your body.
You slowly opened your eyes and looked down, seeing a ruffled head buried between your legs, two strong hands pinning you down the bed.
“Hoon..” You breathed out, your mind still hazy and eyes too heavy to keep open.
Sunghoon momentarily detached himself from your cunt, your wetness coating his chin “Mh, hey princess.” He smiled as if he wasn’t eating you out for breakfast “Just relax, let me take care of you.”
You already weak heart melted at his statement and you just nodded, resting your head back on the pillow while Sunghoon flicked his tongue on your tongue, stimulating it with his fingers as well.
You closed your eyes and placed one hand behind sunghoon’s head, grasping his hair, trying to bring him closer, needing him closer.
The phone on your bedside table started ringing, making you take it and frustratedly checking who was ruining your moment.
You would’ve jerked away if it wasn’t for Sunghoon’s grip at the sight of Jake’s contact name “It’s Jake.” You half-whispered, half-screamed, trying to pull Sunghoon’s head away from your pussy.
He reluctantly let go and nodded “Answer.” Though his tone said that was the last thing he wanted you to do. With shaky hands, you took the call and placed the phone beside your ear “Hello?”
“Y/N, hi… it’s morning there, did I wake you up?” Jake’s voice seemed to foreign to your ears it felt strange at first; as you were about to reply, Sunghoon’s lips attached to your pussy once more, making you gasp.
“You good?” Jake asked from the other line, worry lacing his tone “All good!” You exclaimed, a little too high pitched.
No matter how hard you grasped Sunghoon’s hair, the man was not going to pull away from your pussy and the way he pinned you more down on the bed confirmed your thoughts.
Instead, you bit your bottom lip and tried your best not to give away the pleasure your boyfriend’s best friend was giving you. “Listen, I'm so sorry.” You frowned, confused “What are you sorry for?”
A whimper died down your throat when Jake answered “How I left things, I shouldn’t have ignored your texts..” He sighed softly “I was just mad, I needed some time alone, but it isn’t an excuse.”
No, it wasn’t, but you had forgotten about the fight thanks to Sunghoon’s magic bed skills, so you just shrugged it off.
“I understand.” You breathed out as Sunghoon inserted a finger into your sticky walls, fingering you while his tongue worked on your clit.
Jake sighed at your answer “I said hurtful things to you, can you forgive me?” You moved your hips, fucking yourself on sunghoon’s tongue, earning a hum of approval that sent waves through your body.
“Yes,” you replied, though you didn’t know if it was meant for Jake’s question or to incite Sunghoon in his act “Really?”
Jake’s voice sounded surprised, you usually took things personally, so why brush it all off? He wasn’t going to complain, though.
“How are things going there?” He asked “Alright,” You murmured, Sunghoon’s skilled tongue making you see stars.
“There?” You managed to ask without letting your voice shake when Sunghoon added a second digit inside of you, curling them like he had already memorised where your sweet spot was.
And he probably did.
“Well.” Jake chuckled “But I miss you so much,” You felt a pang of guilt, because since Sunghoon occupied your daily life, your mind had started to drift toward Jake less.
“Miss you too,” You whispered, your words making Sunghoon’s fingers move faster. You bit down on your fist to prevent yourself from making unwanted noises.
You heard a second voice from the other line but couldn’t quite understand what it said, and then Jake sighed sadly “I have to go baby, I'll text you when I finish this meeting.”
You hummed, your back arching “I love you.” Jake said sweetly and you answered with a quick “Me too.” Before hanging up, throwing the phone on the mattress.
You pulled sunghoon’s head away and pushed it on the bed, strangely he let you do it, not fighting you.
He laid on the bed while you crawled on top of him, hovering just above his face “You’re so hot when you’re pissed.” he teased, knowing that you would’ve been anxious about being discovered.
That was what added the thrill to Sunghoon, it would be boring otherwise.
“Shut up,” You shushed, lowering yourself on his lips and gripping his hair, pulling his lips on your pussy, the sweet sensation appearing again.
You bucked your hips down, riding his face while you moaned, trying to reach your orgasm.
Sunghoon’s tongue found your entrance, fucking your hole, drinking all your wetness like you were his last meal.
On other occasions you would've been scared of choking him, but with the pre-orgasm bliss, your selfishness appeared and you just worried about cumming.
His nose poked your clit, his tongue fucking in and out and his hums of approval to let you know that he was, at least, still breathing made you reach your high, legs shaking.
He helped you ride out of your orgasm, your breath still hard as you laid down on the bed again, chest raising up and down.
He sat up and kissed your lips, tasting your cum on his tongue “Morning, Y/N.” He murmured in a hoarse voice.
“Morning, Sunghoon.” It was the same thing you two had been telling each other for a week, only this time, it meant so much more.
⪩⪨
“Let me see them, come here.” He demanded as you two got home from your nail salon appointment, which he insisted on paying.
You smiled widely and walked closer to the sofa where he was sitting — or rather, manspreading — and happily showed him your pinkish nails.
“I love them.” You confessed, the small brush of Sunghoon’s thumb on your knuckles making your breath hitch “Pretty nails for a pretty girl.” He smirked when he noticed the effect he had on you.
Sunghoon was no innocent man, despite his shy appearance.
When he said he’d do anything for you, he meant it, even betray his best friend for you.
Maybe you didn’t want to dump him because Jake was, in fact, a good boyfriend if you didn’t count the bad moments you had together.
But Sunghoon was better than him, and he was planning on showing you.
He let go of your hand and patted his lap, beckoning you to sit on it.
Complying, you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck “But you didn’t have to pay for them.” You murmured, feeling guilty that he spent so much for you, along with the necklace and earrings he bought you as a gift
“Shhh,” He hushed you, pressing a finger on your lips, brushing his thumb over your bottom one.
“I want to spoil you baby, you deserve it.” His voice was barely a whisper, so deep and husky.
Your lips hitched with the urge you had to put them on his, kissing until you grew sick of it— but you couldn’t.
“Actually,” You mumbled and pulled away, just enough to resist your deepest thoughts “I don’t want to send you away, but Jake wanted to FaceTime me,” You gulped, fidgeting with his shirt
Sunghoon tilted his head, his hands securing around your waist, protectively keeping you close “So?”
“So, I thought it’d be better if he didn’t see you here.” You added, nodding at your own statement
Sunghoon frowned, “I can hide in the bathroom until you’re done.”
“Hoon— you’ve been sleeping here for four days..” His jaw ticked “Am I bothering you?”
You were quick to shake your head “No, never.” You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your feelings since that useless argument you had with Jake
He sighed softly and took your chin in his fingers, making you look inside his eyes “What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, holding you so gently you thought you’d shatter right there and he’d be able to pick up all your pieces
“I—“ You shook your head, but Sunghoon’s grip tightened on your chin “Tell me.” He demanded, not harshly.
“I just… I don’t think Jake would like it if he knew about this and I feel so guilty.” Sunghoon felt his anger rise, because he wanted to tell you that your relationship was more off than on, he wanted to tell you to just break up with Jake and live with him, spend your day tucked under his protections so that no one could hurt you anymore.
But, you weren’t his and he couldn’t do anything about it… yet.
“What we’re doing isn’t bad, alright?” He tried to sooth your worry “We’re just two adults trying to satisfy each other’s needs,” Sunghoon licked his bottom lip, looking at your glossy and innocent eyes made his dick harden inside his jeans.
“And I want to take care of you..” He whispered, his hand slipping under your shirt, groping your breasts, earning a small whimper from you “Will you let me?”
Were the necklace and earrings he gave you cursed? Because no matter how much you knew this was wrong, you only craved for more.
“Yes,” You whispered, “I want to make you feel good too.” Sunghoon’s eyes softened, you were so cute and innocent and so his to ruin “Is that so, princess?” You nodded in response
“Want to make me feel good?” You hummed and Sunghoon got close to your ear, purring “Get on your knees.”
You complied right away, climbing down his laps and placing yourself between his legs “Need those pretty hands around my cock,” He said and you unzipped his jeans, palming his already hard length through the fabric
“Do you know how to give a blow?” He scoffed, almost being degrading “I bet Jake couldn’t even teach you properly.” Sunghoon caressed the side of your cheek and then his hand gripped your hair, pulling your head toward his hips “Hurry up, sweetheart.”
Not wanting to make him wait, you quickly pulled the hem of his boxers down and let them fall to his ankles.
His cock sprung free, veiny and thick, you let your tongue trace it, giving kitten licks to the tip.
Sunghoon groaned, holding your hair up to a semi-ponytail so they wouldn’t bother you.
You circled your tongue all over the tip, tasting his bittersweet precum.
“Stop teasing.” he warned, pulling your hair back and looking into your eyes, his tone softening, “Understood, baby?” You nodded in approval and took him whole inside your mouth in one swift movement, his long shaft hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.
He ard your slight gag but the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him was enough to cloud his mind. you bobbed your head back and forth, filthy sounds filling the room.
“Shit princess, you feel so good.” He groaned “Mh— could just cum right here.” His praising fuelled your confidence, so you gripped both his hips and moved your head faster, trying to provide him pleasure
You palmed his balls as well, gripping them gently as Sunghoon let out a low moan, throwing his head back on the headboard on the sofa.
You spied him from your eyelashes, he looked like the epitome of erotic: mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut.
He pushed your mouth further, trying to bottom out when your phone started ringing. You got distracted, looking to the side, about to pull away as you knew it was Jake.
“Don’t you dare.” Sunghoon groaned, standing up and pushing his cock deep inside your throat, you gagged, it being too big to fit.
You tried to push him away to catch your breath but Sunghoon didn’t seem to care. Only when he saw your teary eyes did he give you the chance to breathe.
You panted heavily, spit rolling down your cheeks and wetting your shirt.
Your ringtone started once again and Sunghoon watched you wild his eyes, he took your chin in his hands and raised a brow “You going to answer?”
Your eyes were glossy and the tip of your nose red, you shook your head in reply “That’s what I thought.” he smirked and yanked you by your hair, snatching them to push his fat cock inside your mouth once again.
The way you were just staring at him with those eyes made him grin, the sweat dripping down his forehead added a small spark to the whole situation.
Your phone rang once more and he let out an annoyed groan, taking it in his hands “Maybe I should just show your boyfriend what you’re doing right now, uh?” You panicked and shook your head, trying to pull away from him.
“Keep sucking,” he warned, maintaining his grip on your hair. He showed your phone screen to you, Jake’s contact name appearing before your eyes.
You murmured, trying to tell him not to do anything reckless but that only sent waves of pleasure to his length.
“Shit Y/N.” he panted, throwing your phone back on the sofa, not caring about its ringtone anymore.
“Always ruining the moment, that fucker.” He murmured, holding your head with both his hands and pushing his dick in and out your warm and went mouth
“I’m so close baby,” You nodded, dropping your arms on your side and letting him do what he needed to reach his high. His moans were low, more like growls which made the wetness between your legs grow more uncomfortable as time passed.
You liked when he acted so possessive, when he acted like you belonged to him.
You wished you did.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He chanted, eyes rolling back “Such a good girl for me,” He groaned once more, pushing one last time, deeper until released his seed inside your mouth.
He took deep breaths, trying to calm down “Swallow.” Sunghoon ordered, his eyes so dark and red.
You gulped down and then stuck out your tongue to show him that no trace of his cum was left “Good girl.” He smiled, helping you up.
He helped you up and was about to pull your body closer when you shook your head “What’s wrong?” He asked, confused at your sudden coldness
You glanced at your phone on the sofa and smiled faintly “I think I should call Jake back.” You took it and bit your bottom lip, “I’ll be back later.”
You didn’t spare Sunghoon a glance and just disappeared in your bedroom, closing the door behind your back, leaving Sunghoon in the living room with the realisation that your heart still belonged to Jake.
⪩⪨
Jake was a total asshole. He had always known that, but realisation hit him the moment he saw you coming out of that room bawling your eyes out.
Despite not wanting to tell him, he had a feeling it meant Jake’s foul mouth said things he shouldn’t have.
And as he rocked you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings while gently caressing your body, he was more than determined to take you away.
What made it worse was that you took your time to clean the drool from your cheeks, combed your tangled hair and even put some mascara on to be pretty.
Jake didn’t even consider that, or didn’t try to think how happy you’d be to talk to him and harshly destroyed your mood.
The next morning you woke up feeling groggy, your eyes were puffy and tear stains lined down your cheeks.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed, trying to fix the damage that was your appearance.
After washing your face and doing your needs, you exited the bathroom thinking you’d be alone and mentally preparing to make something for yourself to eat when you came across a tall male figure cooking.
You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide as you drank him in. Sunghoon was toasting something with the pan, his forearms flexing as he twisted the bread.
He was quietly humming a melody, quiet enough not to wake you up, the smell of caramel and first loves filling the air.
You felt a sudden peace of mind, dreaming about waking up like this every day, lazy sunday mornings spent in, cuddling and just being with each other.
Your dream was crushed when you remembered you actually had someone to do that with you, and he wasn’t Sunghoon.
You walked towards him and hugged his waist, your small arms wrapped around his toned torso. He stiffed for a second before realising it was you “Morning sleepyhead.”
“Morning Hoon.” You said back, snuggling your face closer to his back. He turned off the stove and turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your body closer
“Slept well?” Sunghoon asked, placing the palm of his hand on your cheek, his thumb giving it gentle strokes.
The way he talked and looked had you so weak and vulnerable and the only place you wanted to be in was the space between his arms, pressed in so close and so tight.
“Yes, thanks to you.” You gave him a sincere smile. His lips twitch up into a smile and you can feel the warmth of his gaze on your face.
He shook his head and placed a featherlight kiss on your head “I did nothing, really.” He did what Jake should’ve done, instead he chose to be the reason for your hurting.
You were about to answer when he held your waist tightly and placed you to sit on the kitchen counter, you blinked faintly in confusion. Sunghoon smiled and pecked your nose “Breakfast will be done soon.” He announced, winking at you.
He turned back to the stove and placed the toasts on a small plate; he walked to the fridge and took some jam along with butter.
You followed all his movements with your gaze, noticing how his muscles twitched at his every movement. He was wearing a t-shirt that was supposed to be Jake’s, though you had to admit it looked way better on Sunghoon. You shook your head, getting rid of those (not so) untrue allegations.
Sunghoon finished making the toasts and turned towards you, his fang smile so addictive. “Are you hungry?” He asked “I made toast and found strawberries in the fridge.”
“I think you’d like to eat something else.” You murmured, voice still hoarse from sleeping.
Sunghoon’s gaze darkened as he registered your words, placing himself between your legs “And what is it?” He questioned, face so close to yours you could feel his hot breath hitting your skin
With one hand you held yourself on the counter and wrapped the other around Sunghoon’s neck.
You two had only four more days together, and you chose to make the best of them.
You’d deal with Jake when he came back and could talk face to face.
“I have a perfect meal for you.” You smirked, looking down at your lower body. Sunghoon let out a soft sigh, his bulge already poking from his shorts “My favourite.”
His palm traced all the way from your breasts, down to your stomach and hem of the shorts.
He slipped one finger inside and cursed under his breath when he realised you were wearing no underwear
You chuckled at his reactions and Sunghoon attacked your lips with his, sucking on your bottom lip, making you squirm.
He squeezed your breasts and simultaneously played with your clit, touching you in only ways he could.
He detached his lips from yours and lowered himself, kneeling in front of you.
He kissed your clothed core, smelling the scent of you, so addicting.
You felt your pussy clench around nothing, the usual warm feeling building inside your body.
You looked down at Sunghoon with pleading eyes and he was more than happy to satisfy you “On it, baby.” He licked his lips as he pulled your shorts down, the cold air of the room hitting your sensitive skin, making you shiver.
Sunghoon placed kitten kisses all over your thighs, so close to where you needed him but not exactly there.
“Hoon.. please.” You whined, pulling him by his hair closer to your core. Sunghoon flicked his tongue on your clit, making you gasp out.
He continued to lick your pussy like a popsicle, his skilled tongue brushing against your shaven mound, making your head hazy.
Your breath grew heavy and you couldn’t help but throw your head back, desperately pushing Sunghoon closer, trying to find satisfaction.
Sunghoon rewarded your bravery by inserting one finger inside your hole, brushing it against your g-spot “Fuck— Hoon, yes” You moaned out
“Pussy tastes so good.” he purred, diving again between your thighs “All mine, this is all mine, got it?” in your blissful state you nodded your head in reply, bucking your hips to meet his movements
As Sunghoon’s fingers kept brushing against a certain spot that had your eyes roll back, you felt something snap inside of you and liquid spurred out of your pussy.
You widened your eyes, looking down at him with an apologetic look.
“I— I’m sorry.” You said, taking in the sight of said liquid dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and having wetted his shirt.
Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be on cloud 9 “That was so hot, Y/N.” He said with sparkling eyes “Squirt on me again baby, please.”
He was really pussy drunk, drinking all your juices, fucking you with his tongue and fingers.
He raised himself on his feet and brought you into a sloppy and messy kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips.
His painful clothed bulge pressed against your core, rubbing against it.
Sunghoon made his shorts and boxers fall down to his ankles and rubbed his red tip on your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices.
He pushed his thick cock inside you and your breath hitched, its length still something you weren’t used to.
You propped yourself on your elbows and took deep breaths, trying to distract yourself from the burning stretch.
Sunghoon moved slowly, rubbing your clit to make you even wetter so that he could slip in and out without hurting you.
He held your face with one hand, his thumb inside your thumb while you sucked on it “You’re so dirty.” he smirked “My dirty girl.” He got close to your face and hurried his thrusts
“Tell me baby— shit— you mine, uh?” He asked, voice husky
“I’m not y-yours.” Ah, wrong answer. He stilled his movements, looking down at you with a raised brow “Not mine?” He scoffed, “Then you don’t deserve to cum.”
You felt him pull out and panicked, gripping his forearm desperately “No!” You exclaimed “Please Hoon.”
He gave one deep thrust, making you whimper “What did you say?” You blinked faintly “Please..” He shook his head “Nah ah.”
You sighed “I’m yours, Hoon.” His lips twitched into a sly smirk “Good girl.” Sunghoon praised as he gripped your waist.
You raised your top just enough to let your breasts run free and squeezed your nipple, stimulating your body.
Sunghoon joined you and squeezed the other one, bringing his lips down to circle it and send waves of pleasure through your body.
Sunghoon took hold of your hips, raising you from the counter while your hands were still gripping it, moving your lower body to meet his in quick and deep thrusts.
“Fuck, get down.” he helped you down the counter and manhandled you, turning you as he pleased.
He took your arms and hooked them around one of his, your back pressed against his chest.
Sunghoon entered your body once more, his movements so fast. You clenched around him, your moans so loud.
“You were made for me.” He groaned in your ear, kissing your shoulder “Mine to fuck, mine to own, mine to love.”
You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, crying out in pleasure “S-sunghoon.” He breathed out “I know baby,” the speed of his thrusts hurried, rutting inside of you as he hit the sweet spot “Cum for me.”
At his words your eyes rolled at the back of your head, mouth agape as you came apart on his cock.
He looked down, the white circle forming around his shaft, almost making him cum as well on spot.
Your legs started shaking, his thrusts never faltering even as you squirmed in his grip. He circled your clit with one hand, your eyes getting watery.
“Shh,” He soothed, letting go of your arms to make you stabilise yourself by gripping the counter; his hands grasped your hips, grip so tight it would probably leave marks by the next day as he thrusted inside of you, trying to reach his release.
“I’m gonna cum,” Sunghoon panted, the speed of his movements increasing even more “Inside—“ You choked out “Cum inside me.” Your words made him release his seed right there, coating your clenching walls with his warm cum.
He hugged your back, lips brushing against your shoulders as he fucked his cum right back into you, not wanting a single drop to fall out.
He raised from your figure but still not pulling out, turning your head by your chin and connecting your lips.
The kiss was sloppy and uncomfortable due to the position, but it held so many feelings it made you melt.
Sunghoon’s fingertips caressed your stomach, holding you close while gentle thrusts kept uniting your bodies “You begging me to cum inside really did something to me, pretty girl.” He chuckled, kissing your jawline.
“Fortunately,” You started, still out of breath “I’m on the pill. Sunghoon chuckled huskily, “I wouldn’t have minded even if you weren’t.”
He pulled out, drops of his cum running down your thighs. He turned you around and kissed you deeply once more “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can eat.”
You gave him a weak smile, you were sticky and sweaty, probably your hair was also messed up, but Sunghoon still looked at you like you were the most beautiful person in the world. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
He kissed the tip of your nose and chuckled “I’m taking you out for the night, so prepare that dress I bought you.” Euphoria took over your face as you nodded happily “Thank you, Hoon.”
“I already told you I’d do anything for you.”
⪩⪨
You were putting the earrings he had bought you, the crimson dress hugging your body.
You stood in front of the full-length mirror inside your room, trying your best not to poke another hole in your ear.
You felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist, Sunghoon’s head snuggled in the crook of his neck. The familiar cologne filled your nostrils, bringing a sense of peacefulness inside you.
Sunghoon kissed the back of your shoulder, his arms bringing you to his body. You felt his erections pressing between your ass cheeks, making you chuckle “You’re gorgeous.” He whispered in your ear, his kisses raising toward your jaw
You let out a shaky breath as he started slowly grinding against your ass “Hoon… We have a reservation.” You cleared your throat, trying not to think at the wetness between your legs
“So?” His voice was so low it made you shiver in his embrace. His hands moved towards your breasts, squeezing them from outside the fabric of your dress. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
You shook your head “We’re going to be late.” He pressed your lower body even closer to his, rutting his clothes cock on your ass “Please baby…” He groaned, “I’m so hard it hurts.”
His eyes locked with your from the mirror and you couldn’t deny him when he looked so desperate for you.
You loved it, you loved the way he seemed to be so obsessed with you.
You nodded “Alright.” He didn’t waste time and flicked your skirt up, pushing his pants and boxers down and pushing your panties to the side. As his cock sprung free, you could feel it rubbing against you, so hot and hard.
He took your arms and held them in his hand, rubbing your folds with his shaft with the other. With one swift movement, he entered you, moving fast already.
Your moans were music to his ear and the sight of you rolling your eyes from the full-length mirror made his cock twitch inside of you.
Sunghoon groaned, sweat coating his forehead as he sped up, letting go of your arms to grip your hips and use your body as he pleased.
You put one hand behind his head and pressed yourself closer to him, your back tightly against his chest.
“My perfect girl,” He chanted, biting his bottom lip, trying his best not to cum just there “This pussy was made for me, uh?”
His heavy breath sent shivers through all your body, the sweet feeling of his dick bottoming out, hitting your cervix repeatedly made your legs shake.
“Close already?” He asked, the sound of skin slapping and the wet sounds from your cunt filling the room “Y-yes.” You managed to say, the feeling of euphoria approaching you.
“Fuck— me too.” He let out a few breaths, hurrying his speeds “Let’s cum together baby,” Sunghoon hugged your body from behind, spooning you while standing up as he rutted fast your abused pussy
“You’ll let me cum inside, right?” You nodded your head, “Please.” You breathed out “Want you to fill me up.”
Your words were enough for Sunghoon to empty his load inside of you, your own hand went down to circle your clit and you came right with him.
Your walls pulsed around him and his cock twitched, with slow and deep thrusts. He kissed the back of your shoulder, his breath calming down.
“You did amazing,” He whispered, pulling out and covering your folds with your underwear.
He pulled his pants and boxers up and pulled you by your waist, kissing you hungrily “Now, you’re going to dinner with my cum inside,” He murmured on your lips “And after we come home I’ll fuck it right back, filling you up again.”
You were still dazed from your orgasm, or maybe it was the spell he gave you, because all you could manage to do was nod blissfully. Sunghoon’s plan was indeed working.
⪩⪨
Saying that you two had been fucking like two rabbits was an understatement.
Sunghoon took you in the kitchen again, then on the sofa, in the bathtub and so many times in the bedroom.
Like now, you had the insane idea to blow him around three am, the day before Jake was coming home.
Nobody could blame you, though, because the way he was sleeping with his lips open, bare chested and hands ruffled turned you so on you wanted to give him the sloppiest and messiest head of his life. And so you did.
Sunghoon was now cuddling with you, his fingertips brushing against your sensitive skin, the quiet of the night too comfortable as you laid in his embrace.
His breath was even and soft, his body heat should’ve been bothering you since you were in July but it only made you seek more. Maybe it was the fact that the day before, it would be gone forever.
“Hoon?” you asked, tone gentle “Hmm?” he murmured sleepily, sniffling his head closer to your shoulder
You stayed silent for a couple of seconds, trying to gather your thoughts “When tomorrow comes, can you give me some time alone?”
Sunghoon frowned “What?” You gulped, looking down at him, smelling your shampoo scent in his hair. “I need some time to figure things out.”
Sunghoon was scared to feel hopeful by your words, he still said “Figure what?”
“My feelings.” You answered, sighing softly “It’s just that, I’ve never felt so happy like when I’m with you.” At those words, he raised his head, his tired dark eyes meeting yours
“With Jake, everything feels on autopilot, we just live our lives as if we were two roommates.” He caressed your shoulder, letting you know that he was with you, that he had got you
“But with you— you made me rediscover how love feels like, how it feels to be someone’s first choice.”
“Y/N..” He whispered, feeling a sudden urge to protect you “But I’m saying this after spending basically one month without my boyfriend.” Hearing you utter those two words felt like a punch in the stomach, even though you were just stating the truth.
Sunghoon had just been a replacement for you, something to fill the void created by Jake.
“I need to see it for myself if I really have no feelings left for him or if..” He interrupted you before you could finish “I understand.”
You blinked faintly, “You do?” Sunghoon nodded, a smile forming on his lips “Of course, I’ll wait for you and understand if you choose to be with Jake.”
Your eyes sparkled at his words, he was so gentle despite the fact that his heart was breaking.
But that wouldn’t happen, because as he held you close to him, he knew his spell had worked.
No matter how much you tried, you wouldn’t be able to get away from him.
“I’ll always be there for you.” No matter how many times he repeated it, you always felt the sincerity of his words.
⪩⪨
“I’m back.” Jake announced, entering the front door with his huge luggage “Y/N?” He asked, walking into the living room
“Hey,” You smiled, reaching him “Welcome back.” Jake smiled wrapped his arms around you “How is my love?” He asked rather happily
“Layla’s alright, I think.” Your answer sounded harsh, still not fully having forgiven him for the horrible things he said on FaceTime.
Jake frowned, knowing his sins “I’m so sorry, baby.” You sighed, pulling away from his embrace “I know.” You just said and took his luggage “I’ll put the dirty clothes in the laundry.”
Everything went smoothly, he had talked to you all about his journey, how awesome Los Angeles was, everyone was so kind and supportive towards him. And, not a single question on how you had been the past two weeks.
Shaking the feeling off and trying not to think about Sunghoon anytime Jake brushed his fingers against your skin, you successfully managed to get through three days.
What you told Sunghoon was true, your life went on autopilot when you were with Jake.
You woke up, went to work, did the chores and then went to sleep. You barely spoke to each other and the awkward silence in the house was always present.
“Baby?” He asked while you were cooking by the gas stoves, you hummed in response, not turning around.
“Since when did you buy all those jewellery and clothes?” He raised a brow, leaning against the counter “They’re pretty expensive, they’re from Pandora.”
“Oh?” You turned around and looked at the jewel case in his hands, trying to suppress a smile at the memory of Sunghoon buying you all the things you liked. Honestly, you wouldn’t even care if he had bought you diamonds or just paper rings, you’d take anything he’d give you.
“I liked them, so I bought them.” You shrugged, turning back to stir the soup inside the pot
“You’re so rich you can buy anything you want now?” He scoffed, placing the jewel case on the table and crossing his arms.
You stopped in your tracks, raising a brow “What?” Jake clicked his tongue “Did you pay the rent?” You nodded “Of course I did, last week.”
He let out a satisfied sound “What about the car insurance?” Now did you turn around and stared at him in disbelief “It’s your car, I’m not going to pay for you.”
Jake sighed “Come on baby, I’ve spent all my money on the trip.” You narrowed your eyes, dots collecting inside your brain “It’s a business trip, the company should’ve paid for you.”
Jake widened his eyes, stuttering “I— I meant the food and…” He trailed off. You weren’t going to buy it, you didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore.
“I don’t care, it’s your car. I don’t use it.” You informed, cleaning your hands in the apron and crossing them on your chest “But I’m your boyfriend.”
Your brows furrowed at his statement “Only when you want to.” Jake rolled his eyes “Here you go again.” He ran a hand through his hair “Could you stop being so over dramatic?”
“Oh, so now I’m over dramatic.” You said sarcastically “Yes! Yes you are.” He snapped
You didn’t flinch or look away this time, you weren’t going to show your weak side. Jake always took advantage of it, and you weren’t going to let him.
“Sunghoon was right.” You murmured and Jake’s head snapped back toward you “What?”
“You’re an asshole.” You narrowed your eyes but Jake just dismissed your “Yeah, ok. What about Sunghoon?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time with him lately,” Jake laughed at your statement, seeming genuinely thrilled at your information “You and that weirdo?”
Your mouth hung open “What did you say about him? He’s your best friend.”
Jake tsked, “That’s what he thinks. He was a loner and I just talked to him. He has stuck with me since then and I’m growing pretty sick of it.”
“How dare you talk about him like that?” Jake’s brow raised “Why do you care?”
“Because he is ten times better than you.” Jake chuckled again “Oh, he is? Baby, I’m better than him or you would’ve been his girlfriend by now.”
He leaned back against the counter “And what have you two been doing, eh? Reading books? Watching corny films? Playing table games?”
“Sex.” You replied, your tone monotone, having had enough of his bullshits. His chuckle died and he frowned, looking up at you.
“You heard me, I slept with Sunghoon.” His jaw dropped, anger building inside of him “So you just go around and act like a slut? Is that what you do when I’m not home?”
“Don’t you dare call me a slut.” You snapped, your voice raising for the first time in three years “You cheated on me, Y/N. When were you going to tell me?”
“I needed a few days to figure my feelings out, and thank you for making me realise how much of an asshole you are.”
Jake scoffed “You're the one who slept with another man when you’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for cheating.” His face held some victorious feelings that quickly died as you added “Because I should’ve dumped you before.”
“And that’s what I’m doing right now, Sim Jaeyun, I’m breaking up with you.”
“You can’t do that.” His face filled with anger, but no regret could be found.
You were glad you opened your eyes before you were stuck with him “You’ve sucked my happiness out, you took the life out of me. Now I’m going to take it back.” You took off the apron, throwing it at his chest “I’ll come and get my things tomorrow.”
You heard him throwing other harsh words to you, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even wear your shoes, just ran out of your old apartment in slippers, towards the only place you knew would always have space for you.
⪩⪨
“Don’t shoot me!” Sunghoon was playing with his friends at a video game, the sound of keyboard taps filled the whole house along with his shouting.
It was strange his neighbours hadn’t come to complain already.
“At your back!” Jay informed him, Sunghoon was taking the aim to kill the enemy but his doorbell ringing distracted him, making his shoot pointless. “Shit man, I think it’s Miss Choi again.”
Jay snorted, “Alright, go deal with her.” The friends exchanged goodbyes and Sunghoon got up, the doorbell kept ringing, making Sunghoon groan
“Here, Here.” He sighed as he opened the door only to widen his eyes when he realised it was you in front of him— not his neighbour.
“Y/N—“ He couldn’t even finish saying your name when you threw yourself on him, lips meeting his. Sunghoon was taken aback at first but soon enough kissed you back, your lips touching and moving together.
You pulled away, panting heavily “What are you doing here?” He asked, taking in the sight of you.
Home clothes, slippers on and heavy breaths…
“Did you run here?” You took several deep breaths before speaking “I’m so sorry I made you wait.” Sunghoon blinked faintly at your sudden apologies
“Why are you—“ You shook your head “Please let me finish first.”
Sunghoon nodded slowly, waiting for you to continue. “When I first met Jake, I had never experienced love, so I thought what he did was normal…” You recalled in your mind all the times he and treated you unfairly for a span of three years and shivered
“But you made me realise how love actually feels, and I want to learn all the other forms it comes with.” You looked up at his eyes “He called you names and said he’d only been your friend for pity.”
You continued “I just wanted you to know that you are not pitiful, in fact, you're the best person I’ve ever met. Please, don’t listen to him.”
Sunghoon couldn’t care less about Jake’s opinion about him. But a small smile appeared on his face at the way you seemed to be so annoyed by the fact that he had insulted him.
“You defended me?” He asked softly, and you nodded as if it was the most obvious answer “I also dumped his unworthy ass.”
Sunghoon’s brows shot up in surprise and a smirk crept on his lips “That’s my girl.”
He brought his arms around your waist, pressing your body on his “I want to make it right, Sunghoon, I want to be happy and I want you.” You bit your bottom lip “If you want me too?”
Sunghoon chuckled and twirled you in the air, your giggles filling his usual lonely apartment “I’ve always wanted you, from the first day I saw you, I knew you were the one.”
His answer surprised you, “You liked me?” Sunghoon booped your nose, you looked so cute, all rebel wannabe just for your insecurities to stop you again “I think I love you.”
Your breath hitched, those words leaving his lips made you feel so warm on the inside, your heart skipping so many beats you weren’t sure it was still working “I think I love you too.”
Sunghoon kissed you deeply, his tongue entering your mouth as he claimed you, finally able to call you his.
You pulled away and chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You tilted your head, tone flirty “So.. You’ll let me stay for the night?” Sunghoon secured your waist in his grasp “I’ll let you stay forever.”
4K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months ago
Text
Gladiator! Ghost
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: 18+, Dub-Con, Breeding Kink, Implied Forced Pregnancy, Dominant! Ghost, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Master/Servant Dynamics, Voyeurism, Public Humiliation, Sexual Coercion, Scene Inspired by ‘Spartacus’, Based on Spartacus’ In-Universe History, Profanity, Implied Fem! Reader, Images Used aren't Mine.
Gladiator! Ghost abuses his power over you every chance he gets. No exceptions.
And all because you had to go and show him voluntary kindness, tending to his post-battle wounds and praising him for his efforts, all while touching him as delicately and as gently as you could. More so than anyone ever has.
It’s not long after this interaction that you find yourself stationed as Gladiator! Ghost's personal handmaiden; the perfect servant to see that his every desire is satiated.
And, unfortunately for you, that often includes him coercing you into compromising positions.
Even when he’s been training all day, his muscles bulging, skin glistening with sweat, eyes ablaze with bloodlust, he finds time to seek you out and take you someplace isolated and quiet – where nobody else can see or save you – and pumps his fury into you.
He’s never gentle with it, either. He isn’t trained to be.
He’s panting, chest heaving and broad at your back as he presses you into the stone wall of the cellar, your legs forcefully parted by a thick, toned thigh – the skin of which is covered in your dripping essence – as he pounds into you with all his might.
He calls you his maid – only his. Tells you that no-one else can have you, that they’d have to kill him if they wanted to possess you as he does.
And you take it because that’s all you can do. All you’re allowed to do.
You let him make your body feel like this is right, that the cracks of euphoria splintering between your legs justifies the way he grabs your hair and pulls you back to face him, only to force his eager tongue into your mouth.
You clench around him – unwillingly so. Encourage him.
You hear him groan, feel his voice heavy on your tongue before he pulls away, slipping a hand beneath the fabric of your tunic and squeezing your clit between his fingers. You cry out, pressing back into him, taking him deeper.
“You’re mine,” he tells you. He punctuates his point with a quick, harsh slap to your clit – one that leaves you whining. “I’ll give you my babe – give you the privilege of bringing my son into this world.”
Amidst the reluctant pleasure electrifying your every sense, you know he’s close. His tip – pressing into the deepest part of you, a place you didn’t even know existed before he found it – bulbous and aching, pulses in time with his heartbeat. You close your eyes and brace for it – the warmth, the wet. The inevitable.
And, sure as rain after thunder, Ghost growls, pressing as deep into you as your body will allow and then some, as he cums, hot and heavy. You can physically feel his semen pumping through his shaft as he empties every ounce of his seed into your wanting womb – filled beyond full – leaving you whining and trying your best to pull away from his cock.
He holds you still and glowers, a vein across his bicep twitching – almost winking at you – as he slams his hand beside your head, caging you . As if to remind you that he’s the one in charge here.
So you still, panting, sweating and almost crying, as his seed nestles inside you, knowing there’s nothing you can do until he’s ready to let you go – until he’s sure his efforts have taken. And all you can focus on is how heavy he feels inside you, the feeling of his chest almost crushing you against the wall as he breathes deeply. The gradual softening of his tip at your cervix as he grows flaccid.
The hand between your thighs – coated translucent and white – comes to rest upon your stomach. You can feel him looking down at the phantom bump from over your shoulder. His voice is obsidian.
“If I haven’t imparted him upon you already.”
In Ghost’s head, he’s justified in his actions. Even though he can feel you trying to peel away from him, your heart racing to the rhythm of fear and not of lust. Even though he knows you will likely retreat to your shared chambers and weep into your pillow. He knows, deep down, that you want as he does. A family.
It’s all he can think about aside from the bloodshed and the fight for survival. You are all he can think about. The only thing that can placate his rage.
It’s his reason. His only reason to continue.
In his own way, this is his manufacturing of a family. Turning you from a servant into the mother of his children, and transforming him – a beast – into a father.
Not that you’d know this, but he has more influence within the Master’s residence than most – especially as his most prized gladiator. 
Whenever the Master throws parties, he convinces him to put the maids – you – on display, to show the other houses that his gladiators are not just fighters, but incessant lovers, too.
More often than not, you’ve had to strip bare and bear the weight of the stares of party-goers as Ghost, assigned to be the night’s show pony, makes sure everyone knows who you belong to.
It’s an exercise of power. Of ownership.
He makes no effort to hide his endurance, his speed, often finishing at a rate that leaves you terrified knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it, to hide away and prevent your seemingly inevitable pregnancy at the hands of the man you call Master.
Truth be told, you’d be ashamed of enjoying the weight of him inside you – the familiar feeling of his tip hitting a note within you that leaves you whining a wanton tune – if it weren’t for the fact that your situation could be worse – that it could be another of the Master’s loyal fighters pounding you, holding you and bruising your waist. Degrading you from a maid to a whore for all to see.
Ghost can see, during times like these, the women who wish to be you and the men who crave to be him. And he hides his smile beneath learned stoicism, even as he’s overcome with the euphoria of emptying himself inside you, lifting you by the hips so nothing of his making is wasted.
And you can do nothing to fight against it.
And, when he’s asked by some curious voyeur, he’ll do it all again. And again. And again.
This is the only way he can guarantee his seed takes – the only way he can make sure you won’t go off running trying to cleanse yourself of his semen rolling down your thighs, of his efforts taking form and bearing fruit inside you.
He knows it’s just a matter of time until he can afford both your and his freedom, until he can take you away from this place and raise your family together – someplace far from this spectacle of murder.
Until then, he’ll convince his Master to fund these social affairs, to allow you to remain as his maid.
His.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist Gladiator Ghost AI
AO3 Wattpad X
4K notes · View notes