#sorry my thoughts are a hot mess
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I'm curious about your analysis or even just your take in the meaning of Guilty (both MV and song together as a whole). Along with the teaser/trailer and the mention of Bataille's book, the whole thing seems to be a complicated onion with so many contradicting facets. But if you ignore all of that and just watch the MV, then it is rather a straightforward "hurt people hurt people" and some Lord of the Flies reference. But my head keeps thinking it's more convoluted than that lol. Would you tell me what you think the MV is about? :D
My initial take is pretty straightforward but completely undercooked, lol. This is my unvarnished and un-researched take.
I think that the concept has to do with sin and behaviour outside of expected moral bounds. I think this is where the eroticism comes into play. The dance involves self touching, which can be a hint towards the "sin" of masturbation. His character seems to be held in a place where he is tightly controlled and conditioned, and he experiences physical abuse as a form of behaviour control. It seems like he could be in a place where children are taken to correct "sinful" behaviour, perhaps to correct gender dysphoria, or androgyny, or homosexuality, sins of masturbation, promiscuity, et cetera.
Some of the George Bataille quotes I've seen centre on how eroticism and violence and death are linked. I think the eroticism here is less surface or obvious. People expected this sort of Madonna style sexuality of his previous work, but that's not what we're getting here. It's taking criminal to a whole different level.
There is a link between the sensuality of violence and that of traditional eroticism. This is a bit mindbending. The best example I can think to explain right now is David Cronenberg's Crash. Passion and eroticism are linked literally with the bodily experience of a car crash, its violence and trauma. The violent climax of the car crash is likened to the ecstasy of orgasm. In Taemin's Guilty, the ecstasy of orgasm is linked to a different type of harm to the body and the mind. At the very beginning of the video, how he runs away and has a sort of fit, it's rather orgasmic. I think he's showing us the ecstasy of harm and losing control in many parts.
The video is more complex than it seems on the surface, I think. On first watch, I think it's easy to say okay well he's breaking free of something blah blah blah. I think over the coming days when we actually look at the details closer, we'll see a lot more there.
The entire sequence in this outfit and its setting hasn't been touched upon. The dance that he does in thus setting reminds me of the just me and you contemporary dance performance. I do think there is the struggle of gender underpinning the entire concept, but also a struggle with sexuality and the corporeality of eroticism that so many find sinful.
In quite a few concepts, he has explored the idea of ecstasy through being destroyed or destroying oneself. I think this is another iteration of that. Another exploration. And I think he's done a brilliant job of elucidating that ecstasy in a new way that is really centred on a unique contemporary dance style.  many people have said that he's able to tell a story through his dance and I think this is another great example of that. He's merged cinema and dance into a narrative form to the point where almost feels like it's own language.
I'm not sure where I fall in the Lord of the flies references anymore, but surely there are some present. And we see his character becoming worshipped. But I think there's also a consideration as to what is real and what is not and how many narratives are present in this piece of cinema. Perhaps certain sequences are the daydreams of someone locked up. They could be the fantasies of someone who is not free. Does he escape? Does he get liberated? Those are interesting questions to consider.
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when they've got interpreting spiderman noir under a specific cultural lens at the function [picture of me going insane]
I cant help myself.. what can i say. And since you've mentioned some research going on behind the scenes.. do you have any fun interpretations? Or even anything fun about the 1800s!
OH HI
Hm. I don't have anything as fun as historical dancing, but I suppose this does give me the excuse (thabk u) to blab about Noir's childishness.
(wow putting this under the cut bc it got longer than I thought it would LMAO)
I think what a lot of people (including Noir's contemporary writers and yes even the spiderverse interpretation) fall for when trying to read Noir's character is the imitation of his idea of what an adult is, that he hides behind. Like Noir's persona is incredibly exaggerated. He's playing pretend. Look here, he's practicing.
A lot of his persona as Noir is imitation! Imitation of his uncle, of Urich, of the violence he's been exposed to. He's running around in his uncle's old uniform. Fundamentally misunderstanding WHY his uncle had been ashamed of it and his role in the war.
And then he goes ahead and steals Urich's alias because it sounds Cool (which is such a teenage thing to do jesus christ).
But like that imitation of The Adult isn't something that's limited to that exaggerated persona that Noir encapsulates. Peter himself is trying So Hard to be grown up and tough and responsible that it loops back around to him being a brat who would try the three guys in a trench coat trick. He even gets beat up for it when trying to defend his aunt. And I mean I've posted about him being a brat.
About how he looks at Urich as a Prime Example of what a strong and knowledgeable adult is (which is part of why he reacts so volatile in response to Urich showing he's not exactly as morally righteous as himself, he's wounded and let down). Whiskey? Whiskey sounds like someone Mature and Cool would drink, I'll have it too. And then proceeds to throw his drink at Osborn and laugh about it. The illusion was broken for me then.
But well it's not broken for everyone. I mean like obviously I poked at the contemporary writers, but I'm more talking about the other characters in the narrative. Mainly Urich and Felicia.
Urich taking Peter under his wing isn't entirely under the motivation to nurture Peter. I think it Becomes that, but he's really envious of that kid. He wants to see him lose that hope that he once had (ruh roh the opposite thing happened, being around the kid made YOU more hopeful Ben. Guess you gotta be good. Hope you don't die now).
Urich really is exposing him to an extremely harsh reality, and taking him places where adults are typically only allowed. He's letting Peter get a glimpse into what it's like, which will eventually enable Noir's tool of violence. All these tests will accumulate into what Peter thinks someone powerful and strong can be and do.
Then his problematic relationship with Felicia (writers I'm malleting you for this). He's clinging to her adulthood and the safety she represents, and he's young but she sees some adult strength in him. I mean she trusts him with the blackmail Urich gave her, which she really. Shouldn't, even if that's what Urich wanted.
Anyway, strength is something she's been consistently drawn to her in her partners. Strength to feel as her own. Even if it's to hers and others' detriment. There's also a part of Peter that's drawn to Felicia because Urich was. He's still honing in the good parts of Urich he wants to be.
I think the one person in the narrative who doesn't fall for it? Is Aunt May. You could argue it's just her being naturally motherly, but for someone who was about to be eaten alive she's pretty frank with Noir. I think she can see that that violence and exaggerated grittiness comes from someone inexperienced and young. Even if she can't consciously recognize the similarities between Noir's persona and Peter's protectiveness of her. I don't think she wants to see that. I actually have a short comic script about that, but it probably will never see the light of day.
Ugh he's like a cat puffing up to scare away a predator. It's fake!!!!! It's all fake!!!!!! He gets intimidated by JJ, he never ties his shoes, gets powers and then immediately guns to beat the shit out of Osborn, sings about the sandman when he's getting his face bashed in, crawls to Felicia all pathetic and sad, and he made a costume to run over roofs at night in.
And it's funny how he's forcing himself to grow up, but also really sad because all the things he's being exposed to is already forcing him to grow up. He's witnessing things no kid should ever see or experience.
Then there's the time period to consider. The aftermath of WWI, being in the midst of the Great Depression, and WWII just around the corner. He's faced incredible hardship and is going to continue to face so much hardship, and he's going to mature faster than he ever should have. It should have made him crash and burn Hard when he became an adult, and to me he still does because I'm ignoring everyone after ewaof LMAO.
As for my research on the 1800s NY that's for my own spider iteration run I'm working on, so not too related to Noir until I reach the 30's :3
Hope that was satisfying!!
#tw grooming#critter talks#asks#the moots#fool!!!!!!#spider man noir#character analysis#abt the research like logically I know the typical new yorker isn't gonna know abt the specificities of the original dutch colony#and intricacies that the boom of industrialization had on lower class communities#but it's less about that and more of digging my hands into the Soul of NY#because NY is so Intertwined with any spider#so I'm starting from the Very beginning and digging my way up. man y'all were a hot mess#it's really fascinating though working my way through documentaries and books. the list is long and the dent I've made is about an 8th ASDF#anyway MAYBE y'all will see spiderman undiscovered one day...ask me abt it again if y'all like miles being a detective w a shoulder demon#for now it's me my 55 of world building slides several character note docs and a to read list of about 20 books long#would like to go to NY citay one day & oogle at the stinky subway draw some storefronts and people watch but thats not in the budget rn#also trying to look for movies n shows that aren't exaggerations of the culture so if anyone has recommendations DO @ me please#wanna do her justice bc I care about her#ALSO FOOL I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING A DAY TO ANSWER#had to get my thoughts togther
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(//i don't normally do text but cw in the tags erm. i went a little off track)
#inanimate insanity#ii#ii lightbulb#daily lightbulb#scribbly bulb#god. ohh my god. im not doing so hot yall#once again i apologize for suddenly halting on posting; ive had a couple rough days recently and it's constantly crashed my motivation to#even QUEUE SCREENSHOTS. my mental health has been so messed up too and i just had to take a step back#for starters. happy birthday to my baby sister that was born yesterday. like legit. im a big sister now#it's hard getting used to it; i was never good with change#secondly; like in the 100 post i've gained a new fixation thats unfortunately pushed ii to the side#i have adhd and autism so its hard for me to keep up with such a daily routine that includes a media i may end up losing interest in#i LOVE lightbulb and i LOVE ii i just.....need a bit#thirdly; i actually havent seen inside out 2 yet. might end up watching it this week or next week though which will be fun#while waiting in the hospital inside out was playing on the room tv so i wanted to draw smth to get my thoughts out#inside out is one of my favorite. modern? disney movies. rlly means a lot to me.#sorry for ranting i shouldnt dump all my life problems on yall LMAO you just wanna see lb pics#anyways posting will try and resume! cant afford to slack off with ii 15 being so close#if anyone is reading this ty sm for liking my silly blog and i hope you have a good day/night#102
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ran out of time to finish my full feelings write up before s2 but i wanted to put something out there before we start getting content so this might be a bit incomplete
ive been thinking about what i really want to see in s2, and in general im happy to trust the crew with whatever they do but there is one thing id like to see
id like to see izzy not forgive ed
ive already talked about how serious i find the act of severing his toe & surrounding details in general and i think, given we KNOW its going to get worse (at some point izzy loses his leg, so) i dont think the amputation can be brushed off as just a pinky.
what i want to see is their relationship worsen and worsen and get to a breaking point and just. when everything starts to goes back to how it was before, ed tries to treat izzy like he used to (not during the kraken era, but before that, before the revenge, back when they knew each other, when they were friends) and izzy doesn't take it. he flinches, or walks away, or does anything to brush ed off. ed hasn't apologised yet, of course, its izzy, its his izzy, they understand each other! or he thought they did but now hes realising that mayyyyybe he should give him a proper apology.
so he does. and:
"i dont forgive you"
and if course. ed doesn't know what to do with this izzy always forgives him, has since they were kids! why not now?
from izzys perspective, he simply cant take it any more. he will take the consequences of his actions, but he cant lie anymore and pretend he wasn't destroyed by what ed did. and maybe hes learning its not just ed and izzy against the world anymore. there are people who will stand beside him- they might not always like him, he might spit and hiss at calling them his friends, but he knows, deep down, he is not alone anymore. and that its time to take a stand. to put himself first for once.
he cant forgive him, not for this
its at this point ed realises that he might have fucked up. really fucked up. its not that he doesn't care about how the crew feels, hadnt already realised what he had done but. again, its izzy. there was a time he thought there was nothing he could do that izzy wouldn't forgive.
the way i see it this is the point that ed starts to properly rebuild. oh he thought he was doing it before but it was more masks and layers, but now he has to truly confront his actions and the consequences they have on his relationships and that maybe. he is like his dad. but at the same time, he has the space to learn that even if he is, thats not all he can be. he can be better, choose to do better, and it's hard and doesn't always work but he has to try, has to keep trying because if he fails? he has no one to fall back on any more
so izzy doesn't forgive ed.
and ed learns to forgive himself, in time. and maybe he will apologise again, and izzy still doesn't forgive him. and maybe ed learns to be ok with that. and maybe in the wreckage of decades of blackbeard and first mate hands, they can build something new. it won't be the same, and maybe there will always be a distance between them, but in time, with work, they can be friends again.
#id started on this thread before the e1 clip but that really solidified how i was feeling#caveat that there is obviously forgiveness both ways im not ignoring that im just speaking specifically about izzy to ed here#got fed up of trying to make this a proper post (see top note) so this is kinda just. run on. train of thought#get it out my head before it eats me#originally this was gonna be heavier on WHY i wanna see it but its a bit more narrative now idk#i don't control my brain#if this is a hot mess i am sorry i Did Not reread it once#and my handle on words is spotty at best on a good day#nyxtalks#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#vaguely#izzy hands#israel hands#blackhands#edizzy#i need the izzy hands intervention squad to show him he has people who will back him on this 100%#hes not alone anymore hes safe and he doesn't need to take it#idk i just think. the loss of izzy would be the final straw for ed (izzy stays. thats the one truth. izzy stays) and it would destroy him#but maybe in a way he needs to be destroyed#idk what weve seen so far is very hot and cold and up and down and A Mess and jst. idk im pushing him over the edge#they consume me i want to lock them in a small room together i want to get them both 500m restraining orders#i did not include the 'Izzy leaves the boat' tangent on this but the door is open. to me. (sam. sam is there. To Me.)
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Having a Saturday like "most people I've dated have only really liked me for my body and/or a fake personality I've presented, so when they know the true me it's not enough to keep them around. Anyways let's have some ramen for my 2 pm breakfast."
#speculation nation#negative/#mayhaps. i am not feeling too great this morning.#this came from me thinkin about my recent ex again and how she said she never actually loved me#(im sick of thinking about it. but i think im gonna be thinking about that for a long long time.)#but i thought about how excited she'd get about my looks n body and i just thought to myself like#'maybe she didnt love me but at least That couldnt have been faked.'#n then i just paused like '...Geeze.' at how depressing a thought it was lmfao#like sorry my personality is ass and my hot bod's the only good thing about me (relationship-wise)#xoxoxo cant help bein a hot mess i guess !#... i dont know if she even realizes the blow she dealt to me by saying that.#i Told her i had trust issues and felt unlovable. i Told her this.#and yet she tells me that she never actually loved me and every time she said it was a 'mistake'. a MISTAKE.#she didnt need to say that. she literally didnt need to say that. even if it was true there are just some things that dont need said.#in the end. she's not the first person who's dealt this kind of blow to me. and she might not be the last.#i'll keep going. i'll keep trying. i know im not actually unlovable. there's gotta be Someone who likes me for more than just my body#who is also a good fit for me. they Gotta exist out there. somewhere.#and for now. i continue on with full confidence in my attractiveness but Zero confidence in my personality.#might try a nice n slow romance next. make them actually work for it b4 they get to sleep with me.#make it a reward or smth. or rather. make sure theyre not here for Just that lol.#sure would be nice if i had someone interested in me for more than just my body. we'll see if i can find that lol.
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Two hours. I got two hours of sleep. I’m so frustrated with myself.
Went to the ER. Everyone was very nice. They gave me an IV bag of fluids (I was dehydrated! Sad cactus!) and a little ativan (teeny dose), which was nice at the time! Just a little amount, but the (mostly) quiet room, fluids, and meds managed to relax me a lot. Could have fallen asleep if the bed was actually comfortable. Then they packed me up, gave me another little Ativan to take home for tonight, and said they’d contact my primary. Cool cool. Got some much needed food on the way home, then took the pill and got comfy. Again, smallest dosage they make, so no feeling too good. Managed to muscle past my anxiety to fall asleep, and… 2 hours. Woke up. Tried to go back to sleep. Too frustrated and anxious and I feel like crap. What should I do? Just eat a whole gummy and hope that knocks me out? For me, that feels like playing roulette. Could work, yeah. Could make me sleepy and pliable. Could also backfire and make me feel sick and extra anxious for another 5 or 6 hours. What do I do? Roll back up to the ER? “Hewwo, I woke up and I need more benzos 👉👈🥺” haha funny, but I’ve seriously been thinking about it 😑
God, I’m miserable. Been sitting outside on the porch for a bit. Not quite an hour. Needed to get out of the apartment, but tbh, nearly 4am outside isn’t doing much for me. I just feel alone. It wouldn’t help with sleeping, per se, but just someone, I dunno, hugging or holding me for a few minutes would honestly save me a little. What a mess. Oh yeah, and apparently my kidneys are going 👎👎👎 down. Bad meat. Not great test results. Not what I’m focusing on tonight. I’m a mess. Anyway, this was my update. Sorry for all the walls of text. Suppose this is mainly for me to look back on in the future, but can’t pretend it’s not at least a little validating to put this all out into the world and knowing that maybe one or two people read this and I didn’t suffer completely without recognition. Yeah…
#this is a lot of text#not really a casual read#ok ok… I can’t sit outside forever#gonna go back inside and I dunno make a hot chocolatey drink. grab some snacks#TRY to feel good even though I don’t#YES will probably get a little high#hoping that the combo of sugar. salt. and thc will give me the sleepy tools to just pass out for awhile#just a few more hours! please!#omg I was so pissed when I woke up and thought I’d slept for awhile but realized I hadn’t#’ what do you mean the last text I sent was only two hours ago? ‘#seriously. I thought I fell asleep around 11 pm but it was closer to 1am.#stupid sexy ativan. messing with my sense of time#it really wasn’t that big of a dose! I was basically a little buzzed for an hour or so each time#but the doctor was nice and straightforward with me. I just dunno tho. I’m a big guy with a history of anxiety. .5mg is weaksauce#god I’m getting anxious just sitting here thinking about trying to sleep again#it’s feeding on itself. I’m trying to rationalize this but it’s just this feedback loop.#is this my life now? I’m outside. I feel so alone. I feel like I could die any moment. in a sword of Damocles way. it’s there and waiting.#ok sitting outside isn’t helping#after 4am and yes I see cars driving by. I hear the occasional siren. but I still feel alone in the world#please tell me life goes on? please tell me we’re not really at the end here.#I always feel like I’m staring at our final days. that we’re all barely here. fucking ghost planet. waiting to die.#there’s war and hate and everything is expensive and I can’t.. I’m not a part of this world. I’m too poor and sickly and so it all seems…#like we’re on our last leg. like the final days of a fire sale. this body feels fit for the grave. this world is the grave.#I’m scared#ok like I said sitting out here isn’t helping. Ian. please stop.#yes. yes. ok. snacks and drinks and distracting tv. let’s try this again.#sorry this is a lot#I spent the last 20 minutes writing these tags and getting progressively more anxious 😬#you can ignore this#text
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"just take a bath" listen its not the SAME
#angel posts#sitting in the hot water (which will get cold soon) versus being under a steamy spray#the sensation is totally different#and i get the ecological economic consummerist mess of that shower#but i saw that and immedaitely thought of a shower chair and closing my eyes SORRY--#obv i wouldnt do that irl having too much soap stresses me out#and the water bill....girl
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Mac has been babygirling already this season I’m so excited for him
#missed my kitten meow meow#also I will be posting about the crumbs more of his childhood we have gotten so far#so far I’ve really enjoyed the first two eps#the only thing I haven’t really loved was Charlie’s sisters just because I felt like they added so little#this season so far has been giving a lot more of early sunny vibes which I’m very thankful for#if only they would give us back the visual grittiness of the early seasons 💔#I’m sorry but I just don’t buy Charlie’s house now like the doors look so purposefully distressed and the walls are clean#I know it’s been like this a while but I feel like this season it’s just so glaringly a set to me#this is a hot mess#when I gather my thoughts I will be posting more coherent stuff about the new season#iasip#it’s always sunny#it’s always sunny in philadelphia#source: iasip#it’s always sunny in philly#mac mcdonald#iasip mac
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i can feel a hyperfixation oncoming as i sit here and think about it
#its the shadow and bone tv show more specifically its jesper fahey and wylan van eck. Yeah i know#sorry for being a loser and becoming emotionally invested in characters from the ya duology six of crows but in my defense. they mean#everything to me#i jyst have thoughts bout their portrayals in the books vs the show and how i think both versions can coexist and even overlap and how they#both showed different necessary aspects of the characters even if the show is a hot mess#but i have to reread the books first#julian.txt#sab#soc
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Currently resisting the urge to blackmail my father into therapy
#At this point I’ve almost said “well if you don’t talk about your Jehovah’s Witness trauma with someone; I will#because yours is directly related to mine due to having vented on me about it since I was six”#I’ve almost said it ten times within the past hour#exjw#And this is the congregation he thought was our family’s eternal salvation from my apostacy. Ha!#“Jehovah is guiding us here” Jehovah didn’t do shit for you except give you PTSD-induced gout and kidney stones; come off it#Get out of her my people#I’m not even sorry for him. What the elders said to him wasn’t his fault; but he 100% got himself into this mess#for my benefit (to strike the fear of god into his disgusting homosexual sinning boygirl daughter with raging hormones)#And his homophobic rant he went on… please just call me a faggot#I’m having it out with him before I go for no other reason but my own satisfaction#ex cult#”I can’t talk to a worldly therapist because they won’t want to worship Jehovah when someone preaches to them”#Why — pray tell — will they react in that way? Because it’s a cult#Cult: spelled “C-U-L-T.” You didn’t listen to the content of my diaries (which you read against my will) and now you’re suffering#Play stupid games win stupid prizes#He’s the most traumatized out of the two of us as a direct result of him trying to “fix” me…#also because I don’t keep touching a hot stove after it burns me. JWs are a toxic cult; so I no longer believe them#My mental health is better as a result#I have worldly comfort media and I swear liberally (which is proven to soothe physical pain)#I’ve accepted myself as queer. I’ve accepted my dark tastes in music and media.#I’ve started doing something with my life to get out ASAP.#Life isn’t good but it’s gotten better once I changed my mindset and stopped being a close-minded homophobic asshole#Just because a couple gay guys were creepy towards you doesn’t mean they’re all like that#Straight guys have been creepy towards me and I never said I wished death upon all straight men#A creep is a creep is a creep; sexuality doesn’t make you a creep — being creepy makes you a creep
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look it’s cringey dialogue but that’s what makes it so real!!!??? these 15/16yr olds sound stupid and that’s cuz they are stupid teens!!!!
like twilight ‘look bella! a worm!!’ levels of accuracy are being portrayed here.
#ginny and georgia#ginny and marcus in ep 1 is so god tier and they are so stupid i love it#like why did they kiss twice then immediately have bad sex?? stupidity.#ginny being like ‘who kisses someone right after they use the word rapey!??’ and marcus is just like ‘sorry!!!!’ they are IMMATURE#that’s the WHOLE POINT#anyway people hated on this show unreasonable levels imo#let female characters be horrifying messes ok???#like georgia can be the most horrible terrible mom ever but i am still rooting for her that’s my main bitch right there and she’s FLAWED AF#my thoughts#kitten watches tv#also everyone is either cute or hot and that is good for meeeee
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they wern't lying this pain and exhaustion sure is chronic
#my brain keeps giving me the 'have crisis over declination of your hand motor skills' popup.#been spamming the 'delay for 24 hours' every time tho#so um. sorry for not writing/drawing/reading/commenting#shits going well life wise rn#but im a mess. have been for while#you cant worry about a leak in a storm#it makes sense that when things are moving forward#you have to process it finally#but i want to draw/read/write/comment!#i never even realized how bad the exhaustion was#it was just there. for as long as i can remember. this weight#i just got on#just walked on#just got up and carried on#i thought i was normal#i thought everyone kept walking on hot coals and spikes#kept throwing themselves at the brick walls in their path over and over until all that left are shards of brick#and another brick wall just beyond#no wall existed for them#or they had a sledgehammer#im exhausted#but im a creature of habit#i guess i gotta just walk on#sorry im being too melancholy n poetic#i guess i do overshare to much in the tags
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Cherry Boy. [l.c.]
Chapter One of "Losing it". Reminder that each chapter in this series is stand alone and can be read without reading any of the others!
A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space. You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail
WORDCOUNT― 10k
PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader
CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv
NOTE― This is the reason I gave chan the first chapter in the series. It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!
smut tags under cut::
SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie
~
Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at.
Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin.
He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.
You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you.
It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way.
Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.
Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.
Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts?
It’s a joke.
It has to be a joke.
Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you.
Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you.
He likes you so, so fucking much.
~
“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you.
“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned.
“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has.
You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong.
It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all?
You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth.
You need to live up to that promise.
“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.”
The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now.
He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words.
What did he do wrong?
“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb.
“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”
He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying.
“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.”
“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?”
Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment.
You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end.
“I’m coming over.”
He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final.
Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.
Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him?
That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment.
Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.
~
The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.
You look like you’ve been crying.
“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”
You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure.
He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions.
“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this.
“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”
He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him.
“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.”
He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you.
By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.
“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.”
You look at him with irritation at those words.
“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”
He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on.
“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet.
You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long.
“No, I think we’re done h-”
“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you.
Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–
“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again.
“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.”
Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately.
“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.”
You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on.
You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have.
“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”
He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you.
He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.
“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”
You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better.
“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it.
Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.
“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”
You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now.
“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”
“You want to give your virginity to me?”
You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.
“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”
You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time.
Ecstatic even.
“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”
“Jesus, no.” He says.
You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills.
“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him.
He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it.
“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you.
You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding.
He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body.
Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you.
He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time.
“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”
He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out.
“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”
You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now.
He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.”
His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.
But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something.
“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”
You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life.
“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”
“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him.
~
Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together.
You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something.
The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good.
Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing.
You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session.
This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him.
Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days.
Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you.
He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder.
His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds.
And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.
You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it.
“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”
When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue.
“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?”
He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”.
He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away.
“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you.
“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.”
You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you.
“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.”
He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him.
“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.
“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.”
He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now.
“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.”
Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it?
Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you.
You smile.
“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”
And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session.
As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you.
And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself.
You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?
When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.
You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch.
And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand.
“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”
It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?
Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears.
“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck.
“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much.
“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening?
You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.
He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way.
“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss.
And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought.
“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver.
He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt.
“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now.
You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you.
“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”
You smile.
You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself.
“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance.
He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.
It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it.
He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly.
He’s so fucking lucky.
“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”
He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point.
And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it.
“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”
Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words.
“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”
You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man.
“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.”
And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes.
“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”
His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you.
“Taking everything in you to…?”
You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool.
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”
“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words.
You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance.
“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there.
Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down.
He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum.
Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?
“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button.
His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally.
“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again.
Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan.
“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips.
His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish.
“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”
And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches.
“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”
His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting.
“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”
You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed.
Desperate. Willing.
You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again.
And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.
His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.
You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you.
Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it.
“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs.
You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally–
“You’re so….�� You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.”
He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him.
You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock.
You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely.
“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”
That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation.
“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”
You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now.
And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good.
“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”
God, he’s so frustrated.
“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too.
You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something.
You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there.
Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control.
You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.
The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head.
Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste.
You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head.
His entire body shivers as you glance up at him.
You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.
Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–
And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.
He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling.
The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–
“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it.
And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips.
You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……
It doesn’t fucking stop.
He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth.
“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now.
“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”
You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with.
“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.”
Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you.
“But we still haven’t–”
You cut him off quickly.
“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”
Oh, my god. He forgot.
“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you.
“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.”
You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand.
He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts.
“Oh.” He sighs out.
“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before.
Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory.
“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”
You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.
Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts.
“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night.
And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape.
“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm.
Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you.
He gets to….touch you.
And boy does he.
Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly.
You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you.
You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact.
He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements.
Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far.
I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right?
And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him.
“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you.
He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now.
And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit.
The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.
His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.
“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?”
He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers.
“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”
You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing.
“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”
He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.
“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement.
You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.
���Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”
He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.
He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you.
“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers.
You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him.
“Now? Do you want to do it now?”
He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become.
“Can I?”
You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact.
All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works.
Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit.
“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.
He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy.
“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”
And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you.
He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you.
“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words.
“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you.
You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more.
“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”
He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening.
“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him.
And he does.
Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in.
His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.
The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it.
He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.
You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling.
He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now.
What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move.
He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in.
In and out, in and out, until–
“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.
Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….
He’s done for.
“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you.
He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long.
Until he’s not, of course.
And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath.
Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.
You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before.
You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him–
It hits you faster than you can realize.
Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening.
Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost.
Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath.
You pussy is pulsing, and then–
“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks.
There’s the breath you’d been holding.
“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.
Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you.
He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him.
Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you.
Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you.
Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now.
And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him.
“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.
“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow.
“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?”
He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head.
“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”
And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care.
“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”
He doesn’t even have to think twice.
“The second reason.”
“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”
~
Chapter two: LOSER. [wonwoo] ― coming soon!
series m.list
#lee chan smut#seventeen smut#hon <3#i feel insane#i want you to know that i just finished reading this and there's nothing in my skull#it's all just liquid#this is the hottest fic you've ever written to me i think. i think it tops the one where mingyu subs for the first time holy shit#sorry for not remembering the name I'm going through it right now 💀#i think i understand how and why people masturbate to fanfics#because the urge hit me like a train many times throughout this#i think this is joining my hall of fame of fics from you and it's arguably my new favourite dino fic#i really like the way you approached reader making sure he was cool and comfortable with everyone god my EMOTIONS hon#the way he was so reactive jesus christ help me i do love a sensitive man#reader feeling the impulse to put her mouth on him wow she's just like me fr#honestly this is basically just me lmao#dino nearly having a stroke anytime reader did anything is my kind of man actually#it was equal parts hot and endearing#love that we all think this man has a girthy dick but like consider that i am fragile you know?#honestly you made him last longer than i thought he would#but god i do love a man who is just so into you that he loses any and all composure#nah see i get why you didn't write for him before this#you simply would've been too powerful amd destroyed too many lives (read: my life)#you can never write for dino again thanks /j#.....honestly this might be my new favourite fic of yours I'm not even joking#i will have to evaluate once i am less insane but honestly this might be top 3 for me#you've done it again#sorry for being a deranged mess in the tags but good lord this was so hot and well-written hon my god#q: painting with hyunjin#oh also i want you to know those reactions are only a fraction of how i feel#AND i know wonwoo's chapter is going to ruin my life as well :D
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Your breakup really really reminds me of my first (and only) wlw relationship/breakup everything you're saying hits home a lot. You will get through it but tbh it's so hard to heal and it still grinds my gears when I think about her and how we broke up. Idk if that helps but I understand what you're going though
YEAH MAN ITS TOUGH OUT HERE FR!!! its not my first queer relationship but like something about this is genuilnely the most world-shattering romantic experience ive had cuz we went into this soooo head over heels for each other like we were literally moving SO fast. and at the time i was like is it ok for us to even be moving this fast (probs tmi but we were literally making out shirtless by like 2nd time we even made out) (probs not a big deal to most people but i experienced a LOT of new things with her that id never experienced befoer & the fact that i was so WILLING to do it so fast was what surprised me the most) but then i was like okk whateverrr i really like how fast we're moving. and i was like 'damn if were moving this fast & if im feeling so good it has to end soon right like theres no way life is going to let me just be happy w this' and then i was like 'no elts not think about it' and then what do you know 5 months later she brekas up w me. and neither of us did anything wrong but it was so random??? like i dont understand how one moment shes telling me how excited she is to spend the entire semester with me and then literally 36 hours later tell me shes not feeling an emotional connection but wont even give us the chance to work it out. i know she also broke it off for personal reasons but its like... this was something we could have TRIED to work out you know!!! maybe it wouldnt have worked in the end but literally nothing felt off to me at all & if id known she was feeling this way i wouldve done my best to make things better. the entire breakup was so sudden and honestly im really not mad at her because i know how nerve-wracking it is to be in your first relationship. i think its just that im really dispapointed she gave up on us so easily you know??? didnt even give us a chance to figure it out
#sorry you didnt ask for a rant but man im not even going to lie the main reason i even rant about this on tumblr is cuz its so much easier#than talking to my friends#not cuz theyre not kind & underestanding and stuff. i mean just generally ive always been better at saying things by writing anonymously#like i never cry on my friends but this was the first time ive ever done that and even then#every time i tell someone i broke up with her i generally dont feel anything i feel like im just retelling a story#other than that one time i cried on my firend#like its just so much easier ranting on tumblr than telling my friends. also if eel really bad ranting to my friends#cuz i know they care abou tme but also like how much of 'i want her back' are they going to take yk??#every time i get tipsy i start complaining about how much i miss her and these past few weeknds my friends have heard an earful of tipsy me#like i jstu dont wnat to burden them like that#but yeah anyway. i feel you anon this shit is so hard#and i feel like the other thing is when its a hetero-presenting relationship friends find it easier to be like 'fuck him / her!!'#and obviously thats not always going to make the person feel better cuz EVERYONE is complex but in a way its nice feeling that support from#friends. but my dating experiences have always been queer and i feel so guilty any time someone says 'fuck them! youre out of their league'#because like the thing about queer dating is i feel so much more understood and it all feels so much more intimate#and when you cant even get a 'fuck them' from your friends it just feels so alienating in a way#idk how to explain it#obviuosly if the ex is a cheater then its valid to be 'fuck them' but in my case none of them have cheated & theyre both very copmlex peopl#weve all done probelmatic things to each other yk#i think its just like. how am i suposed to get over her when our relationship doesnt feel like it should have ended at all#like it was NOT our time!!! NOTHING felt off or wrong or anything!! i thought we were really happy!!#i think she broke it off in part because she was afraid of the moment things went wrong but man this hurts much worse#cuz at least if things started going wrong it would make SENSE to break it off. but BEFORE things go wrong? this pain just feels unnecessar#anyway heres to hoping my insta stories trying to look hot convince her that she messed up and she should totally date me again#and well live happily ever after for at least a few more months#anon tag#asks
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄
- sylus x reader
more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)
note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')
“Missus, please spare us!”
You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.
“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”
“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”
“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”
You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.
“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”
“—?! Missus, please!”
“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.
Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.
Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”
And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."
Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."
Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?
“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”
Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”
Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.
“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”
“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”
Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.
And so, you went up to him. However...
“...Are you single, miss?”
Here we go again.
You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”
The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”
This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.
This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.
“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”
Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”
The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”
This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.
“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”
“No, no! I mean it!”
He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.
The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—
He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”
“Oh...”
And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?
Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.
That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.
For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.
Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—
You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.
A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.
“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”
He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.
—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.
. . .
“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”
“I do.”
“Then, will you play with me?”
Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.
You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.
"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.
That was the last straw. Enough is enough.
Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.
“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—
“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.
After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.
"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"
"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.
"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."
His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.
"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.
Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.
Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—
“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”
“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.
But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.
There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.
“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.
But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.
You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?
“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”
“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.
“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”
You shook your head.
You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.
You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.
For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.
“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.
So needy and pliant… for him.
“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”
Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.
But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”
He shot you an irked glance. “No.”
“He calls me by your bird’s name.”
“...”
“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”
“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”
Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.
Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.
“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—
Neck. You realized in horror.
“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”
“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.
"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"
You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"
"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"
Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.
"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.
“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.
"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"
Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"
It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—
“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”
It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!
His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"
He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.
You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—
“Stop thrashing!”
“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.
“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”
You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”
But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.
“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.
“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”
Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.
When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.
It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.
Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.
Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?
You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.
“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.
Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.
“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”
“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”
Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”
“Just who do you think I am?”
“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”
Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”
“Sylus!”
If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...
“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.
This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”
Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”
You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.
“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”
You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.
“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”
“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.
Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Wait!”
You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”
Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.
“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”
This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.
He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.
“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”
His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.
After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.
Epilogue
"Do you hear anything?"
"No, nothing..."
Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.
“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”
The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.
"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."
"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."
“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”
Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.
“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”
“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”
As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.
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ellie, who unexpectedly orgasms as she’s strapping you.
you thought something was off by how sloppy she was handling your hips, her fingers twitching impulsively and the thrusts of the silicone in your cunt is faltering. maybe her stamina is no longer, or maybe she’s just not into you.
but you hear her exhale shakily, her choked up breaths. people usually tried missionary first, but not ellie - she wanted to see you ride it reverse cowgirl, watch your ass from behind in doggy, and she wanted to hear you cry out speed-bump style.
but she’s on top of you now, your lower back angled comfortably on a sweaty pillow, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress.
“fuck.. fuck.. fuck—“ she whimpers silently to herself, and your glossed eyes are fluttering open. you’ll call out her name with difficulty, ellie?
that intangible pleasure in your cunt she used to hit with ease is starting to subside, but it doesn’t matter, because your core is tightening when you see her fucked-out expression. her lids shut, eyebrows arched in ecstasy and my god, williams.. it looks like you’re the one getting fucked.
the constant rocking has been stimulating her poor, swollen clit. and suddenly provoking her orgasm, her hips are twitching like crazy, whimpering exhales sloppily seeping from her lips.
“are you fucking coming?” you gasp jaggedly, feeling the silicone burrow deeply into your hole in these random and unanticipated twitches.
you’ll cup her face, and her skin is piping hot, melting into your sweaty palms. her eyes are closed, and even when they are fluttering, you can only see the pleasured whites of her eyes.
“mm—fuck-‘m sorry, i’m sorry baby-ah—..” she whimpers, too embarrassed to open her eyes fully for you to see her shameful irises, dilated pupils that are so selfish.
she’s using her remaining momentum to sporadically thrust into your soaked slit, encouraging those last ruffles of her rupturing orgasm, humming low and guttural as she does so. “felt so good—fuck, pussy feels so good, baby—“ she exhales breathlessly, her parted lips against your chest.
you can feel the hot air on your skin, condensation melting into the pores.
she tries to continue, for your sake, for your enjoyment. but it’s too much, oversensitivity that has her trembling like a loser; her arms are quivering as they try to hold her up. “i can’t-can’t go anymore—“ she whines, her measly thrusts forcing her clit into overdrive.
just the smallest tap has her overwhelmed. but you’re not satisfied, she knows this.
“keep going.” you demand, determined eyes maintaining a solid gaze at her own, your palms still framing her jaw. “i need to come too.”
and when she pauses, eyes glassy with the overbrimming bliss, you dip her face lower. her ear inches away from your lips, and you whisper with a callous hue. “you talked so much fucking game, so fuck me until i come. is that so much to ask?”
“i can’t-i can’t, it’s too—“ she tries to defend herself, tries to ignore the constant contracting of her hole; the rigorous pulsing of her tormented bud. but you’re quick to deflate it.
“it’s always about you, huh, ellie?” you murmur, slowly rutting your hips against the silicone. she can hear the challenge in your voice, the way you diminish her, the humiliating wetness of her slick.
and she loves it.
“stop being so selfish, and fuck me.” you order, your arms sprawling out to your sides - because you want her to put the work in, make the same mess of you as she did herself.
and she will. she’ll whine, she’ll beg, she’ll plead. it’s too much, i can’t, please baby as she fucks into you like you deserve. the veins in her hands prominent as she tries to keep herself steady, the definition in her abdomen from the clenching, and the pitiful way she’s crying out. whimpering for breath, a pleasured tear landing on your collarbone.
but she fucks you good, and you’re grateful for it.
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