#well it will be like a readable game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neetily · 4 months ago

Text

Dummy — (SDV) Sam + Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: virgin reader, threesome, dubcon, victim Blaming, manipulation, lots of kissing, saliva, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, nipple sucking, praise, overstimulation, creampie, just the tip, tongue sucking, cervix fucking — ✧ word count: 12,723

— ✧ A/N: reposting some favs from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

“What do you mean you’ve…”

“Never… Kissed anyone before?”

Doubt drips their words, emphasis pushed onto the offending action of kissing — you’re lying, aren’t you? Because to Sebastian, one of your dearest and closest friends , he can’t imagine a pretty girl like you still yet keeping her kissing virginity for God sake, let alone any kind of virginity! He’s always imagined you must have sneaked off with Alex one late saloon night, and he’s hypothesised with Sam before that maybe you had fooled around with Abigail during a sleepover, or— well, something … Anyone, really. And yet here you were, anxious fingers twiddling tight into sheets while you try to avoid their scepticism laced gaze. A staring contest ensues. Not one formally introduced, but one borne out of disbelief, and in your case: embarrassment. Where Sam begins the questioning, it’s only natural for Sebastian to follow; seeing as how in tune they are with each other. Two twisted peas in a pod, you really shouldn’t have told them that.

Which is why the moment their eyes meet they instinctively understand what must follow your little revelation. Your best kept secret, surely held close to your shy little bunny heart out of fear of judgement, or worse, prey . It’s only natural for them to be curious, right? It’s a big scary world out there, you should be thankful that you only have to face two of them tonight, little prey.

Because that’s what you are at the end of the day, or at least it is when you’re snuggled up securely under Sebastian’s bed sheets. Tugging on the fabric as if doing so would somehow hide your bashful expression from your best friends watchful eyes, but they know you better than that. Just like how they knew what actions you’d take before you took em during the long forgotten about Solarian Chronicles game earlier that night. Whether or not you choose to display your cute rosy cheeks to them was irrelevant; because they knew. They knew you’d regretted the decision to play a friendly round of truth or dare the minute you agreed, and they knew this was too good an opportunity to pass up on tonight. With both his parents out for the evening, and Maru attending an extended trip with the doc out of town… It was a no brainer for Sebastian to have his two best friends stay over for a few nights.

Which is to say… Sam was in on it the whole time, you know? Trapping you in the metaphorical dungeon that is Sebastian’s basement room, cornering you under the guise of some friendly games late at night—which you should know by now is a bad idea, but when he thinks about it, Sebastian decides your naivety is but one of your many charms—however, neither one of them could have ever imagined you’d offer yourself up to them like this on a silver platter. He can tell Sam is just as surprised and eager about your spilled secret as he is given the soft glint in his friends eye, the way Sam’s gaze matches his own half lidded nature as you bury deeper under the sheets in a pitiful attempt to escape some unforeseen instinctual threat.

Him, a threat? No, never , you sweet thing… He’s about to reassure you of just how docile he really is with sugary lies and faux platitudes. But your meek tone effectively shuts him up, and he’d be a fool not to watch you dig your hole even deeper.

“It’s— Um, it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything… Right?”

Oh, on the contrary, sweet girl. Unbeknownst to you, both Sam and Sebastian are intricately connected, thinking the exact same disgusting thought the moment you spilled your prized secret. If you haven’t kissed anyone, then… You must be a virgin too, right ? Like, with sex . Cause, despite their previous late night discussions surrounding you, there’s no way you’d have fucked by now given how bashful you are at admitting your untouched lips, and when Sebastian takes a quick glance Sam’s way he recognised the awful smirk his friend is now wearing.

He unknowingly adopts it too.

Because in the midst of your sweet little sniffs and reddened cheeks, they’ve already came to an agreement. An unspoken one, communicated through flickers of vision and a previous shared longing to have you where you sit right now. You’ve got no idea just how long they’ve wanted you like this, scared and alone, easy to dominate in the dark of the basement. It sounds bad when he puts it like that, but really what he means is: unable to refuse. To confuse and mislead you right into their arms, if that’s what it takes. Which is what it’s come to, seeing as after all this time you’re still a silly little virgin. Poor girl , they’ll fix you tonight.

It’s Sebastian who speaks up first, knowing better than anyone that Sam has a far too easily excitable attitude to approach the tense situation with any tact. Which is what you need before the main event, surely. See, he’s not evil , just a little selfish. He’ll provide you with the comfort you’re obviously seeking, if it means he can get in your pants later tonight.

“No, no,” He coos, standing from his computer chair to stalk over to his bed, gently dropping his weight on the edge of it to sit beside you, remaining cautious not to scare you off with anything other than absolute acceptance. Because deep down he’s thankful , and he’d like to show you just how much. “It’s not a big deal, promise .” A smile follows, meaning well to ease your apparent apprehensions, but he’s not so sure he can hide his deplorable excitement from you well enough, an ache in his cheeks present when he thinks about how hard this must be for you to admit. Which is silly, really, but he can understand why you must be so ashamed when in his company; even if only because he knows himself too well. To combat his worries, he places a friendly open palm where he thinks your hidden thigh must be, and he’s happy to have found it when you lower the bed sheets just a little , enough to give both men purchase into you. His eyes flit to Sam once more, a small narrow to them as a warning. Patience . Do not frighten the poor bunny, okay?

A few rubs up and down and you’re already opening up to them, so easy are you in your innocence. He continues the conversation when it naturally lulls, noticing that you’re clearly shivering with anxiety in the face of their acceptance, and he’s eager to keep whittling down your fight or flight response until you feel safe again; that’s when they can pounce. And really, it’s your own fucking fault for getting yourself into this position, yeah? What girl in their right mind would think anything other than indulgence when her two best friends— who just so happen to be horny men —invite her to a private sleepover? Dummy , you must be wanting this, right? You’re just playing coy, aren’t you? “If anything, it’s kinda cute,” he squeezes at your thigh to reassure, inwardly laughing to himself when you continue to clam up, pretending to be shy when he’s got you all figured out.

Or, the alternative is fine with him too. Maybe you really aren’t aware of your position tonight, left completely blind to the obvious trap orchestrated by himself and Sam. If that were true, then you deserve a sickening reality check anyway. See, either way he holds no guilt. Either you wanted this, or you deserve this. Which makes things easier for him, convincing himself that there’s no harm in pushing if the result is the same.

“Ain’t that right, Sam?”

“Sure is.” Sam grins back at him, wide and unassuming, a friendly face to coax you out of your self imposed shell. It’s Sam’s biggest strength, Sebastian thinks. His childhood friend has always resembled the sun in that way, all smiles and platitudes; exactly what you need tonight. “Been savin’ yourself, or…?”

Fuck , good question. Too wrapped up in his own selfish desires, it hadn’t even occurred to Sebastian that you might be doing just that, awaiting some sort of faux right time before giving yourself away to someone special; but aren’t they special enough for you? Both him and Sam, your bestest of friends, crowding around you so ardently in the relatively open basement room as Sam joins you on the bed, opposite Sebastian, aren’t they your special friends? It couldn’t hurt too much to give them just a taste, right? Just a little, it’s what they’re owed for protecting you for so long. If not them, then who? A bubble of jealousy prompting him into squeezing your thigh once more, the possessiveness in it easily misconstrued as guarding. Would that he could remain in his indulgent dream of corrupting his sweet and innocent little friend, you snap him out of his dirty mind with a docile little head shake, the squeak of your voice drawing him back to reality as you deny them the right of depravity for now.

“N-No, no… Nothing like that… It’s just— Uh, I guess it just never happened? I uh… I dunno why…”

God, the shake in your voice goes right down to Sebastian’s cock, and he has to fight the urge to pet at it right in front of you like this. How downright pitiful you sound when elaborating, unsure and cautious, fearful of their judgement even if they’d do no such thing— No, because you’re being such a good girl for them already, you deserve approval in return for your honesty.

“S’all right, I was a late bloomer too, y’know.” Sam snickers, easing what Sebastian assumes is the obvious sexual tension as if it were nothing, watching as Sam leans back against the bed wall as if his cock wasn’t also twitching now that they were so close to you. Closer than ever before, so close that they can fucking smell the desperation coming off of ya. “Think Seb was too, werent’cha?”

It takes Sebastian a moment to register the words sent his way, far too busy wetting his lips to the thought of making you cry to pay attention to the conversation. Cause he could, y’know? He could have made fun of you for still being an untouched virgin, bully you into submission until you’re begging for the sweet release of his fat cock, until you see no other choice than to accept his cruel treatment as forgiveness. But he refrains, his thumb instead smoothing over your blanket covered thighs as the sheets lower further still from your frame, a consistent reminder that his kind treatment is bearing fruit. “Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand, staring off into space only to distract himself from the cute pout of your lips, because if he looks for another fucking second he’s liable to jump you right there and then, biting at his own lips to calm his racing heart in the face of your devout innocence. God he wants to ruin you , corrupt your naive view of the world with his pervert cock and take advantage of your clueless attitude until all you know is him and Sam. It’s what they’re due.

He’s lying, of course. Him and Sam had messed around when they were much younger, exploring their sexual appetites together as a regular occurrence ever since. Fuck, even Abi had joined in every now and then, so he’s surprised to see you so easily accept their lie as truth. He’d assumed Abi had maybe told you about their shared experiences, maybe even invited you on occasions despite you never showing up— but the dumb look you adopt tells him otherwise. Upon hearing Sam’s initial misleading statement, he instinctively knew to lean into it. Butter you up or something, he doesn’t really know. It’s getting difficult for him to reason with himself when your tits are just begging for his lips around them, the barely there tank top you’d decided to wear tonight given his reminder that his room runs hot is just calling to him , leaving him struggling to think straight.

“So uh… Don’t even worry ‘bout it, okay?” He smiles again, cheeks burning from the constant reassurance he’s trying to offer you. It’s the best he can come up with when all his mind can focus on is the swell of your tits and how bad he wants to taste them for the first time in your life.

“Have you done anything ?” Sam is quick to follow up, and Sebastian is happy to have the spotlight off of him for a moment, allowing him to eye up the space between your tits and your shirt, doing his best to remain undetected as he takes a peek down. It’s a bad idea, he knows it is the moment he does it, eyes instinctively rolling to the back of his head with a hushed gasp escaping his open lips. Tight fucking body, fuck — your fault, remember?

Silence befalls the room and he holds his breath, afraid that if he doesn’t then a moan will slip out from how eager he is to have you— been waiting for this exact moment for as long as he can remember. Sam too, honestly; a shared crush that allowed them to work together, a disgusting alliance built purely on a need to claim you as their own. Their best friend. Their innocent little bunny who needs to be bred, yeah? And when he lifts his gaze from your tits to your face for a brief moment, all he can see is how hard you look down, staring the same spot he was with a blush adorning your cheeks. Cute . So fucking pretty that he wants to eat you right up. Quickly gazing at Sam yields the same result, a cocky smirk on his friends face before a fists raises to chew on.

Yeah , Sebastian thinks. Me too.

“Uh… I, well—”

They already have their answer, but it’s so fun making you get all shy like this; the payoff assumedly going to be even sweeter when they eventually coax you out of this timid behaviour. “It’s okay, you know you can always be honest with us, sweetheart.” Sam pouts, finger under your chin to tilt your face up at the sun, and Sebastian doesn’t miss the audible gasp the bold move knocks out of you.

“No. I haven’t, um… Y’know…”

Oh, this is fun.

“Haven’t what?” Sebastian grabs your attention now, repeating Sam’s action but instead directing your vision to him , a soft angel smile on his lips to try and entice you further into him, to force you into saying those dreaded words that you’ve surely spent a lifetime avoiding; but if only you’d admit them, then he’ll reward you nicely. Been so good so far, don’t give up on him now.

“Haven’t… I haven’t uh, had… Sex… Or, really much of anything…” You trail off into soft embarrassed laughter, barely audible over the thump of his own heart, or the sudden shuffle of sheets under Sam’s weight. He’d scold Sam if doing so didn’t immediately give away his own position, and so instead he follows suit. If ya can’t beat em, then join em. Inching closer towards you so that you’re sandwiched between their shoulders, the brush of his hand up and down your thigh surely able to be passed off as a friendly action only, right? And not the lewd action of temptation, a lure to reel you in.

“That’s okay.” He says, more of a whisper than anything, which was an accident at best. Simply stunned by the gift you’ve given them tonight, cock twitching in his pants to be buried inside of you already— show you what you’re missing out on, or maybe, to shamelessly show himself what he could have been fucking years ago. But the way his hushed words catch your attention urges him to continue the soft tone, if only because it distracts you from how horny he is— and nothing has really even happened yet. Embarrassing, but understandable. Any man would surely agree; he’s stuck a gold mine with you tonight, and you know no better than if he were to play the role of the virgin with how hard he’s already gotten at your confessions. “In fact… I’d argue it’s pretty cute.” He repeats himself, unable to conjure up anything more worthwhile saying when he’s focusing so hard on not sticking his dick in you already.

“For sure. Super cute, even.” Sam adds, though his voice is much more boisterous and causes you to shiver against Sebastian, which he happily accepts with an arm wrapped securely around your shoulder.

“Mhm… But, aren’t you at least curious ?” He asks nonchalantly, “About how it feels?”

He can feel you tremble some more, leaning further into him in apprehension. Your hearts probably racing by now, right? Two men leaning against you in a hidden basement up in the mountains. Regardless of the familiarity, even innocent lil you can recognise what that means, surely. Fuck , no one but them would hear you during the night, the thought alone causing his cock to leak some more in his underwear. The implication is right there , sweetheart; and yet he waits patiently for your virgin mind to play catch up to it.

“I mean, a little?” You answer honestly, questioning lilt at the end of your confession as if seeking their approval.

“It’s only natural, after all.” Sam interjects, hand lifted to play with the loose strands of your hair absentmindedly; except it’s not. Not really. In fact, it’s intentional , and Sebastian knows it to be so given the half-lidded nature of Sam’s gaze on your lips. Which, of course, you’ve got no way of witnessing. Your eyes glues to the pattern of Sebastian’s sheets, staring as if they were the most interesting thing in the room right now, instead of the correct answer being that of your admission of want . “We could help, if you wanted.”

Sebastian knows that Sam is only suggesting because this would be a whole lot easier if they made you think that tonight was your idea , rather than a best laid plan of their own. “Yeah, s’not fair that you’ve been left out, right?” He adds on himself, quick and sharp, disallowing you room to think to better their chances of getting lucky tonight. Squeezing your shoulder softly to hopefully coax you out of your understandable anxiety and instead onto your back where you belong.

“Ah, wait!” Your voice is louder than it’s been tonight, panic stricken in the face of their offer. Which Sebastian understands, but still he chews on his bottom lips before he gives into his need to pin you down. Shut you up . “It’s— Wouldn’t that be weird , right?” You laugh, and the sound would be sweet if not for the fact that it was standing in the way of both Sebastian and Sam getting what they so desperately wanted. “I mean— we’re friends . Friends don’t—”

“What, kiss?” Sam scoffs, but his expression remains friendly. Needs to, really. Because despite the assumed shared frustration between them, Sebastian glares at him to keep on your good side. Of course they could take you without much issue, fight back against your retaliations by working together to get you naked, manoeuvring you into whatever position they so please simply because they want to . But, it’s easier this way, no? A little more upfront effort, but the end will be much sweeter. “I mean fuck , me and Seb do it all the time!”

It’s not a lie, but seeing your expression turn to one of shock makes him think that you think it’s a lie, so Sebastian takes the opportunity to swiftly settle the score.

“S’true. Friends can kiss, promise it’s not weird.”

“Really?” You immediately interrogate, head tilted up to properly look at him, and God you’re so cute like this , disbelief lacing your tone even after his confirmation. Are you thinking about them kissing right now? Imagination running wild with what your two best friends must have been up to all this time together? Jealous that you weren’t included?

“Really,” Sebastian’s hand leaves your shoulder to instead gently cup the back of your neck, rubbing up and down your nape in an effort to convince you of his words. “Do you wanna try?” he questions only as a formality. He’d going to kiss you tonight whether you want to or not, but it’s nice to be nice sometimes, y’know?

There’s a pause before you answer, considering your options as they creep closer together. Not enough that you’d notice given how full your empty lil mind is, but the nearer Sebastian gets to you, the more he notices. Your faint scent, how warm your body feels; must be from embarrassment, or perhaps excitement at the prospect of his lips on yours? Fuck , he’s certainly excited himself. Cock leaking beads for you as you make him wait, the hand he has on your neck ever so slightly pinching to get your attention back on him.

“What d’ya say?” he questions when you look up at him, and he has half a mind to immediately lock lips with you to quell his trembling cock, twitching eagerly from how downright dumb you look with those pouty lips and furrowed brows. Too cute — far too cute to be as innocent as you claim, but the quiver in your voice tells him otherwise.

“Um… Only if that’s okay… With both of you, I mean. But just a kiss, okay?”

Got you.

Stupid little mouse, rolling over to show your tummy so easily , even if you can clearly see his salivating open maw. It’s like you want to get eaten alive, not that he’s opposed to the idea. A kiss is all it’s gonna take for them to swallow you whole. After all, you’re just a dumb little mouse . You won’t know any better. But he has experience. He knows how to look after you the way you deserve, in tandem with Sam.

Of which, his friend takes the giddy lead with an excitable “So, who do you want to go first?”

A scolding rests on the tip of Sebastian's tongue, annoyance worming to his stomach in fear of Sam’s nature working against their plans, but when you timidly tug on the sleeve of his hoodie and he sees for the very first time that night genuine worry (or perhaps fear, they’re cousins), he can’t help but extend you a helping hand. And, if he’s honest, he’d really like to go first , acting the saviour to protect you from Sam’s hungry teeth out of selfish desire.

Your bottom lip wobbles before him and he tuts down at you quietly, lovingly. Only Sam can understand the triumph in the click, forcing Sebastian to suppress a laugh at the scowl his friend now wears. He inhales deeply before letting you in on a little secret at your indecision.

“You’re so pretty,” He pauses, waiting to see your bashful cheeks, all red hot thanks to his compliment. Good , you look so cute when awaiting his words. “But you’re so stupid .”

And oh the look you give him was worth the pause. Mouth open for him to instinctively stick his fingers into, your pretty eyes wide at his intrusion for him to admire. The first thing he notices is how your tongue is so soft , unexplored for him to take advantage of with his sweat soaked fingers. So stupid is right , why would you ever be so surprised at this turn of events? He can only imagine what it’d feel like to have your virgin tongue wrapped around his fat cock, struggling to take his face fucking while your throat closes up due to his rough treatment. Has his cock all hard and needy at just the thought, God he wants to , wants to shove his pervert cock right against your cheeks, smear dirty precum all over your lips like gloss, see how well you cry for him— but a little whimper you gag around his fingers convinces him otherwise. Fuck —

“Sorry—” He laughs, deep and genuine, removing his fingers from your open mouth only to hear you sputter for air. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, promise. It’s just— Ah , you looked too cute, y’know? Couldn’t help myself.” He admits honestly, but the way in which he does so comes across as pandering , another attempt to allude to the fact that this was all your idea, remember? If only you weren’t so pretty.

Alas, with his fingers removed and drying nicely in the cool air of his basement, he cups your cheeks without warning and moves closer, hovering his lips above your own. Teasing his taste, practically smirking against your lips when you openly gasp out for him at the sudden turn of events. A deep inhale later and he recognises familiarity. An insidious kind, burrowing deep to his heart as he looms. “Ready?” he whispers against you, still tenderly touching your cheeks as he dives in before you have a chance to answer. Payback for when you stole his opportunity to talk earlier, he muses to himself. Immediately poking his tongue out, slipping into your wanting mouth just like how your body is asking him to do— a groan escapes him and down your throat. The delicate touch on your cheek grows flat, before quickly moving to the back of your neck to grip . A tether to keep himself controlled as he drips saliva onto your tongue, mindful of the fact that you’ve got no idea what you’re doing, but that’s okay. It’s hot enough just to steal your first kiss from you, you can get better with time. Because this won’t be the last time you taste him, even if you don’t know it yet.

He presses closer against you, pulling away only to slowly push his lips back against yours. A soft smack filling his ears with how wet his tongue has gotten your lips to become. It’s an instinct for his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to himself as he makes out with you. So agonisingly slow that it even teases him, causing his gasps for air to become strained, his muscles to tense in their obsessive grip of your body. As if claiming mine , despite Sam watching the whole ordeal and waiting for his turn like a good dog. He feels you sink into him, reciprocating the kiss with a little more ease now that he’s taught you the proper motions, smiling to himself when you experiment by dragging your tongue against his own; and moaning with you when you let a whimper slip.

The desperate sigh that follows from your kiss bruised lips is almost just as sweet as your whines, prompting him into a wide grin. Saliva stains shining in the dim light of his room as your eyes catch on to where you’ve just explored.

“You’re good at least.” He half lies, rubbing his thumb against your waist to keep you preoccupied while Sam gets into position behind you. Sebastian admires the string of saliva keeping you attached to him in the meantime

It takes you a moment to collect your breath before reply, and he can’t help but smile down at you with adoration at how cute you are when getting taken advantage of. So much so that you play right fucking into it, d ummy . “Really? I mean, are you sure—”

Before finishing your question, Sam has your chin tilted back for your body to follow, landing your back against his chest and ass between his legs. “C’mere, s’my turn.” Is all Sam says before placing his lips on your own too, a greedy growl escaping him at the shared saliva between friends.

Sebastian tilts his head at the way your eyes widen, palm automatically coming into contact with his too hard cock to pet at while you’re being kissed. It’s interesting, really, to see what you look like when enjoying yourself; when you’re being exploited for selfish gain. You’re so pretty when prone, and if he hadn’t just endured your inexperienced kissing then he’d for sure assume you were still lying about being a complete virgin, but the way you clumsily hold on to Sam’s wrist for stability while he far too eagerly kisses you is cute if nothing else. Just like you, skin flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, the way you try to keep up with Sam’s agility by way of arching your back— a pretty fucking sight by the way, are you sure you’re actually a virgin? The whiplash you must be experiencing causes his cock to drool under his rough palm, circling the leaking tip to the sight of Sam’s free hand clutching your hair, pushing your face against his own with fervour. “See, told ya.” Sebastian praises you, heart fluttering in his chest when you attempt to respond, but Sam’s tongue is too overpowering. Choking your words before they even have a chance to sound— fuck , that’s so hot. Your gasped mewls and furrowed brows; he can barely stand it. Wants to stick his dick in you already, clawing at the wet fabric of his tight jeans while Sam eats your face.

Maybe he’s a little jealous, especially when he catches a glimpse of your cute tummy laid bare for his eyes to feast on. An immediate suck of air and a roll of his eyes to the back of his skull, hips instinctively rolling against his perverted paw from the tiniest show of skin. God , he’s— no, they’ve got it so bad for you and your stupid virgin mind can’t even begin to comprehend it, can you? How the sight of Sam’s hands travelling up and down your untouched tummy to eventually make groping actions at your chest sets his tummy aflame, equal parts envious and horny, a shiver of pleasure rolling down his spine when you sputter away from Sam’s lips to anxiously ask: “ Wait! Just— aren’t we just kissing, I—”

Too slow , Sam had manoeuvred your face back to his own for more sloppy sounding kisses for Sebastian to jerk his cock to. Silly little girl , it was never just kissing . He remembers how you had asked for that to be the case, but; neither one of them had promised , did they?

While Sam is busy sucking your face, Sebastian decides to indulge a little more in himself. He’d have liked to have taken things slower than his counterpart, but it’s difficult to blame Sam for his excitement when you’re quite literally in his lap; Sebastian knows he’d be unable to control himself if the roles were reversed too. Are you kidding? A pretty little virgin just begging for corruption, unsullied body receptive to their every touch. There’s so much he wants to do to you, yknow. So much he can do to you now that you’re distracted again, unintentionally slutty moans hummed down his friends throat.

First, he tugs his jeans off. Leaves his boxers on for now, it’s more fun that way, right? He crawls closer to you after throwing his clothing to the ground below, tapping on your knees to watch them easily fall apart for him. “ Fuck—” he sighs, slotting himself between your legs. “So easy , you’re trembling.”

Maybe the mention of such startles you, but Sam seems determined to keep sucking on your tongue, strings of saliva caught between his lips and yours, you’ve got no room to do anything else but whine for more. And you’ll get it, fuck you’ll get it, they’re determined now that they’ve had a taste . Moving his hands to either side of you and Sam, making sure to rest the tip of his cock against your still clothed hole, but fuck it already feels good, doesn’t it? To just have it sit there, twitching and drooling all over your clothes as a reminder of what you do to him, of how easily domesticated you are from just one messy kiss. He’d like to have heard your reaction, but there’s pleasure enough to be had in feeling your hips reflexively shift against him, cunt so close, teasing his resolve without even knowing it. A natural born slut, you’re lucky it was your friends that discovered this side of you and not someone more sadistic… As if they weren’t being mean enough themselves, biting on your lip and squeezing at the fat of your thighs.

Having you writhe under him prompts his hips to start moving, gentle rocks back and forth to contrast Sam’s abrasive groping, though Sebastian isn’t complaining when your shirt gets ruthlessly removed and your pretty tits are spilling out from your bra. Makes his head all fuzzy just looking at em, hands finding home on your waist to keep you pinned against his friend while he bucks his tip against your hidden hole. Even this feels too good, doesn’t it? To have all the attention, two hard cocks pressing at both your holes. Bet Sam’s leaking all over himself by now too, dripping onto your ass from how your sensitive body encourages them to continue. See , he thinks, you are asking for it .

“Isn’t this more fun, huh?” He asks, a hint of knowing on his tongue. “Y’sure look like it’s more fun, God — Look at’chu—” He mutters, only because he’s too focused on rocking his cock against your covered slit to have you making more of those pretty sounds you’re echoing into Sam’s mouth, rather than keeping track of exactly what he’s saying. Spilling dirty words for you in abundance as Sam gives you a moments respite, just enough time to undress his lower half. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?” He taunts you from above, knows that you’re too breathless to reply with the drool coating your cheeks. Sam’s always been a messy kisser.

It’s as you’re catching your breath that Sebastian moves you into a different position, growing impatient with Sam when he struggles with his underwear, though thankfully your face is turned from Sam when his cock finally snaps against his tummy. A low thud almost catching your attention, if not for the way Sebastian’s body covers your view as he helps you lay down with your back on his bed. “C’mon, catch your breath, pretty.” He coos at you, all soft and loving despite his degenerate thoughts about how sweet you look when struggling. Practically eye fucking you as his face hovers above you, propping himself into half sitting up to watch the conflict of tonights situation flash across your face. Cute , he mumbles to himself, before his vision drops to your bra and he thinks hot .

While you’re busy trying to ground yourself, Sebastian takes to dancing his fingertips down your chest, ghosting over your tummy, until eventually reaching the band of your bottoms. He pings at them a few times, relishing in the wince you send him each time the fabric smacks against your soft skin. Until eventually, his fingers dig under your clothing to help leverage Sam into hauling them off. So badly does Sebastian want to take a peek, just a small glance down at your panties, selfish desire pooling in his cock as it twitches against your side. But he’s got time, he can take it slow; even if Sam refuses to do so himself.

“I— Wait, please . I need a second before—”

“Aha… Oops .” Sebastian mocks, pressing his fingers against your slit once he feels that Sam has dragged your underwear completely off. Only, he groans with his words too, pained at just how wet your little cunt has already gotten from some light foreplay. Just a little kissing and you’re soaked , you really must be a virgin, right? Oh you sweet thing , if you’re this wet already, then you’ve got no hope of surviving until the end of the night. The thought of which only turns Sebastian on some more, prompting him into matching the rooms state of undress as he lets his cock free with a heavy sigh, incidentally smearing precum all over your bare hips while the pads of his fingers explore your virgin cunt. So fucking hot, holy shit—

“ Relax , baby,” Sebastian isn’t sure if Sam had meant to sound so condescending, but he can’t deny how hot it is to see one of his best friends so dangerously out of control when face to face with your cunt. He takes a look at Sam upon hearing how strained his voice is, and the look of sheer desperation painted on his face is enough to convince Seb to start toying with your clit. Little circles, barely there if he’s being honest, but of course it’s enough to get your untouched body reeling . Wiggling and croaking, the feeling of your hand grasping on for dear life onto his shirt only serving to rile him up further, makes him buck his cock against your waist a little more intentional. He can’t stop himself even if he tried, snapping his vision back to you to watch you fall apart on his meagre touch.

If you’re this fun to toy with now, he can hardly wait till he’s got his cock in you. Fat beads of precum leaking all over you as Sam lowers to your cunt level, heart racing in his chest at the prospect of deflowering you in such a nasty way. You can’t even decline their advances, not when Sebastian continues flicking your clit, dragging his fingers down your slit to dip into your heated hole. A gasp escapes him upon coming into contact with your wetness, slick coating his fingers with a gush as he angles his hand downwards; allowing Sam enough room to nose against your puffy clit.

“Fu-uck ,” Sam whines, all broken and needy as he sniffs your slit. “Oh my God ,” He continues, Sebastian taking the opportunity of distraction to start pumping your little hole with a single finger while Sam drools over your cunt with slurred words. Can’t fight back when you’ve lost your voice to moans, can you? “Smell so good— Wanna lick it so bad, fuck , wanna taste you—”

“Go on then.” Sebastian encourages Sam, spreading your cunt open for ease of access, and he’s surprised to hear just how breathless his voice sounds when he’s got you whining into his chest, blushing cheeks buried against his shirt like earlier with his sheets. Can’t get enough of him, can you? Not that he’s doing any better, practically ready to bust just from curling a single finger inside of you, cursing quietly to himself when his flicks earn a full body shiver from you. You’re already so fucking tight, just barely able to take his single finger inside— the thought of having that tightness wrapped around his cock causes him to throw his head back.

And he knows Sam has started lapping at your cunt when you sob into him, soft and pretty cries crooned into bundled shirt. Fuuuuck , he needs you. Needs you so bad that his heart hurts to hear more, arm taut and muscles tight as he focuses on offering you precise flicks of the finger inside of you; gotta stretch you out properly to take his cock, yeah? And oh you’ll look so pretty when stuffed full, won’t you? He hopes you cry when he’s inside too, wrapping an arm under your back to secretly unclip your bra, taking a brief pause in fingering you only to throw it to the side. And when you’re fully exposed he keeps his arm under you, circling it back around to cradle you in his arms— and to be able to grope at your tits a little. He’s so mean , isn’t he? Leveraging your surely confused and vulnerable state against you, selfishly kneading and pinching at your pretty tits. Ah , he takes a quick look at them— or what he can see of them with your body twists to hide against him. It’s a mistake, of fucking course it is , given just how hard his cock already is— because the sight of them rising and falling harshly under his fingertips is almost too much to bare. Almost convinces him to shove Sam out of the way so that he can have you all to himself; that is until you arch towards him and he falls like moth to a lamp into your chest. Gently, mind you, lips latching on to your nipples with hunger . Dizzying desire clouding his judgement when he nips at them a little, growling delight against your tit as praise for taking his abuse so well. The unsure sounds you let out only spur him on to continue, cock tip slipping against your tummy with the amount of pre your coax out of him.

Slurps soon fill the air, mixing perfectly with the sweet squelch of his fingers diving in and out of your tight little cunt. It’s about time he introduces another, right? Otherwise you’ll be forced to take his cock unprepared, and though he intends to deflower you tonight, he’s not so mean as to make it hurt . Sneaking another finger in is easy with a loud suck of your nipples, he hopes to distract you from the stretch despite your telling whines. “ Shh, s’okay. ” He mumbles after popping off your tit for just a second, rubbing his nose against your head to grab your attention. “Doing so well… For a virgin, anyway.” He smiles when you meet his fond gaze.

Sam hums against your cunt and Sebastian matches the sound when he hears your gasp in return, keeping you attention with a nod towards Sam. “Look at ‘im.” He implores you, scissoring his fingers inside of you slowly , almost lazily so that you have more freedom to gawk at how eagerly Sam licks and sucks up and down your cunt. Hell , Sebastian can even feel his tongue run along his fingers at times too, assumedly trying to suck off all of your slick clean from your hole. Greedy , Sebastian thinks to himself. I want a taste too.

He moves with you, peering over to take a look at the mess between your legs, and involuntarily grinds his hips into you at the sight that greets him. How dirty he feels, fingers glistening with your slick, Sam’s face obscured between your folds— but his saliva still stains your thighs. “Shit—” he sighs, suddenly increasing the speed at which his fingers curl inside of you. An increasingly loud squish emanating from your hole with how slippery they’ve got you causes his head to hang low, more focused than ever to have you cum for the first time on his fingers; he’s selfish . Wants that taste of you too.

“ Ah—! No, wait—” you immediately fall back— always with the wait with you, haven’t they proven their worth to you yet? You should trust them to look after you by now, given that Sam’s tongue sucks those pretty high pitched moans out of you, and Sebastian’s fingers fuck silent gasps to crawl up your throat. “Feels— No, ah—! Feels weird!”

“Dummy.” Sebastian lets out a dry snicker, doubling his efforts of making you cum now that he knows you’re close. It’d be laughable knowing how clueless you really were; so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening to you right now, if not for the way he has to physically tense up his whole fucking body so as to not cum with you, excitement shivering down his spine at the prospect of granting you the pleasure of your first proper orgasm. See, isn’t he so nice? Sam too, the way he digs his nails into the fat of your thighs with an iron grip, keeping your cute cunt still for him to service— because that’s what they’re doing right now. They’re servicing you , offering up themselves to you for your own benefit. They’re not taking advantage of anything: you might be a virgin, but you’ve got the body of a slut, your approaching orgasm only serving as further proof of your promiscuity. “You’re close, just give in baby.” He both encourages and clues you in, picking up the pace some more; a brutal speed unbefitting a virgin like you, but the look of sheer enjoyment on your face is inspiration enough to continue. “ C’mon , give it to me, yeah?” his tone is leering , downright insidious with lust, spilling from his lips just like second nature. It’s what ruining filthy virgins like you does to him, apparently. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, jus’ helping a friend out, remember?” Lies . But you’d believe anything coming from his dishonest lips wouldn’t you, especially when you’re on the cusp of something that feels so good , right? Both tongue and fingers coaxing your orgasm out, a few more seconds is all it takes for his eyes to narrow in on your angry expression, cunt quivering around his skilful fingers with plenty grip to leave him just itching to fuck you. And fuck— the sounds you make . High strung and erotic, more so than he’s ever heard you before. Instantly, he registers your moans as addictive. Wanna hear that again, wanna make you sound like that some more, keep gasping our names all pretty like that—

But he’s kind, remember? He wouldn’t be knuckle deep in your pretty little cunt if he wasn’t at least sort of generous, crooking his fingers against your warm insides gently, massaging your walls sympathetically to help you properly ride out your very first orgasm— how cute. How completely adorable it is to be finger fucking you through one of your first naughty experiences ever, and on his bed no less! A memory he’ll keep with him for as long as he lives, if only to bully you about it later down the line. And of course, he can’t forget about the help Sam has offered you, and he wants to make sure you don’t too.

“Look so pretty when cumming, angel.” He coos at you, faux sweet tone hummed against the top of your head as he scissors inside of you two more times before pulling out, not missing the way you involuntarily whine at the loss of fullness. Dirty girl , you’re a quick learner if nothing else. A woman after his own heart. And by that he means; fucking needy . “Say thank you , remember.”

Despite you dazed state, still in the midst of what must be a mind blowing experience, you find the strength to look up at him with a dopey smile that tugs on his heartstrings. “Thank— S-Sam , stop!”

“ Sorry—” Sam heaves, eventually pulling away from your creaming cunt with his tongue still lolled and a face full of shine. Sebastian thinks he’s pretty like that; almost as pretty as you are when you sigh before following orders. Good , he likes them submissive. And from your subservient attitude thus far tonight, he bets you’ll be a good fuck too— in spite of your virgin status. Not for long now if he has anything to do with it. And given how soft and pliable you are in his arms right now, he thinks he’s got more than a fighting chance at claiming you for the very first time; so that no one else can. Well , besides Sammy, but that’s a given.

Sebastian taps your thigh with his cum covered fingers to get your attention again, now that Sam has stopped diverting you with wolfish laps. “You were saying?” He prompts you again, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head while he idly grabs and tugs at your hip.

“Um— Thank you… For, y’know… All that.” You sheepishly sigh, which can only mean one thing.

Reality is settling, isn’t it? The fact that you friends have just fucked you into submission, tore your first group orgasm out of you without a care in the world. Sebastian wonders about what you must be thinking right now. Do you regret it, or are you just shy? Given the slight tremble still present in your legs as Sam kisses down them, awaiting Sebastian’s instructions, he thinks you must have enjoyed yourself at least. He’s experienced Sam’s tongue enough times to know how deceptively adept he is at using it. But, in the off chance that you might be feeling the beginnings of repentance, Sebastian’s quick to act.

“There’s no need to thank us yet—” He huffs, pulling away from your side only to manhandle you into a different position. You’re still drunk off that high, aren’t you? It’s easy to tell since you’re so easy to move, without a single word he’s able to mould you into shape. “We’re just getting started.”

And there it is. A flicker of recognition in your glassy eyes, the threat of welling tears as you suddenly understand that you had only asked for a kiss; a fairly simple act in and of itself, no? Innocent , even. And yet, despite your utter overstimulation thanks to Sam’s dog like tendencies to lick and lick and lick until the sun comes up, the thought that they have more to show you is overwhelming, isn’t it? Sure looks that way when you scrunch your nose up in confusion, eyes wide at the feeling of his hands ghosting your legs. It’s the cutest look in the world Sebastian thinks, finally tugging at his neglected cock after he’s got you in the perfect missionary position— except your head hangs low over the edge of the bed.

In the spirit of getting rid of your firsts, why not go all the way, right? It’s what Sebastian is thinking anyway as he drips globs of precum down onto your cunt. Accidentally, of course, but the picture is pretty all the same. Like a claim, mine .

The weight of what’s about to come must be heavy on your chest, hypnotising Sebastian as he watches it rise and fall in anticipation. Nobody moves once in position, all awaiting some sort of right moment to get started again— that is until you let out a little squeak. A pitiful sound, one that has his cock all twitchy and drooly.

“I don’t— I thought we were just gonna kiss . I don’t think I’m ready for— Ah! ”

He’s known to have some persuasive hands. Tickling up and down your trembling thighs, eyes trained on the bob of your throat when he inches just a little too close for comfort against your cunt. There’s no need to be shy now, you’ve just covered his sheets in cum.

“C’mon, you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Just the tip wont hurt. Promise we won’t go any further, right Sammy?”

Sam lags behind, catching Sebastian’s eye with a roll of his own, knuckles white where they grip at the edge of the bed— either side of your head. He wonders how Sam must look to you, from your angle where you hang off to stare at him from below. Does he look just as ruined as he does to Sebastian right now? Or maybe all you can see is cock. Heavy and heady, dangling just out of reach from your lips. Do you want a taste? And then, he can only imagine how he himself must look. Red hot cock jerking all over your front, so close he can practically taste your cunt already, experimentally letting his thumb hover close enough to spread your lips apart and— oh , what a pretty girl you are. All nice and wet, puffy little clit just begging for some more stimulation. He can’t hope to hold himself back now, huffing short bursts of air as he teeters on the edge of just shoving it in already , exhaling sharply through his nose like some sort of dog.

“Uh-huh.” Is all Sam offers, and Sebastian gets it. Really, he feels it on some sort of spiritual level. The cockiness to his friends tone, the curt nature of the response. They’re both at their limit, and they’re both seedy little liars who want nothing more than to just fuck you silly. To ruin a pretty virgin like you.

A rather simply ask, no?

“Won’t that… Y’know, hurt or something?” You mumble, shying away further from their faux promise. Sebastian only wishes he could see your expression at the same time as your timid question, he bets you wear worry well.

Regardless, he lines his leaking tip up to your sopping cunt despite your vocalised worries, impatience thick in his selfish action when he tugs at his tip a few times, biting down on his bottom lip so as to not embarrass himself by moaning at the slightest touch. Because he wants to, not even inside of you yet and he’s already close to painting you white. You were responding so well to them earlier, all pretty moans and sighs, so give them what they’re due. It’s only fair, right?

But still, he shrugs. Even if you can’t physically see it, he’s not fully present to provide an attentive answer to your understandable question anyway, easily sliding his tip between your folds slowly . Teasing himself more than anything, rutting himself to the edge just for fun. Because you’re under him, and he wants to. A quick gasp shared among friends at the slippery glide up and down reminds him of your position, jaw tight with barely there restraint as he hisses something, anything through his teeth. Just to get the ball rolling again.

“The tip? No, absolutely not.” How would he know? He’s not the one about to take cock right now. But he’d say just about anything if it meant he got to bury himself deep inside your tight virgin little hole. Not that his answer actually matters with the way Sam’s cock blocks your vision, jerking precum onto your chin just like how his cock hovers nears your hole— you’ll soon have no way your voice concern.

And the sooner that happens the easier for him, looking up at Sam for all but a second before his nails dig into your thighs to pry them open even wider, spurred on by the look of desperation Sam adorns when feeling the heat of your breath brush against his profusely drooling tip. Sebastian’s heavy cock slips and slides between your folds on a whim, his breath hot and fraught with absolute need to steal your virginity away in the worst way possible. But you’re soft, aren’t you? A shy little lamb, ripe for his brutal taking. He panders to you once more, preparing himself for what he assumes will be one of the best experiences of his life. Sullying his best friend— is there anything better?

“Just the tip, okay? You can do that for me, can’t you?” He sighs above you, both in love and frustration. You feel so fucking good already, he fucking hates it. “Promise it won’t go further, just the tip.”

“I— Guys, I’m not sure if I’m ready for this—” Oh, how cute you sound when so scared. It’s okay, he believes in you.

But more than that, Sam is at his limit. A forced groan garbs Sebastian’s attention away from watching his cock almost disappear into your tight hole, finger fucked and stretched for him , but Sam begs for attention.

“Course y’are. Why else would y’be this fuckin’ wet, huh?” He seethes, and the urgency lacing his words just does something to Sebastian’s brain. Short circuits it, forces him to reconcile with the fact that he’s never heard Sam get this agitated during sex before. It’s nice. It’s hot seeing his best friend all worked up like this, watching in slow motion as Sam angles his pretty cock to your lips only to smear precum all over them, a wet gloss coating the lower half of your face due to how much Sam needs you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the way Sebastian’s cock begs against your cunt, how your hips wiggle and shift under him as if asking for that which you’re so scared of. Don’t worry, he’ll hold your hand through it. S’not so bad when it happens, you might even enjoy yourself— though that part isn’t necessary.

There’s ought else left to do but join in on the fun, something that takes Sebastian a second to consider as he appears hypnotised by the sight of your lips parting automatically, like your body knows what to do even if you’ve never done it before yourself. A natural born slut , of course you’re going to enjoy yourself. Wet little cunt gushing around his cock before he’s even put it in; you’re pleading to be domesticated, aren’t you? And fuck the sound you make when Sam slyly slips inside of your wanting mouth? All muffled and choked, matching perfectly with Sam’s aggressively relaxed sigh into you.

Without a single thought else, he finally, fuck he’s been waiting so long for this moment, pushes inside of you. Just like he promised, only the tip. But immediately he has to tear his hands away from your thighs and instead plant them at either side of your waist to even hold himself upright, sheer pleasure striking down his spine for him to shiver into you, and then before he has a chance to even adjust to your tight little virgin cunt, he’s already setting a far too unfair pace even for himself to keep up with. Forget just the tip , fuck, are you kidding him? Pure desperation, unadulterated pleasure present in every stroke of his cock inside, fists balled into his sheets below to search for any semblance of control left— but your cunt sucks it out of him, just as well as your hole already sucks him off; you should be thankful he went through the extra effort of prepping you, especially when you’ve offered him your sweet seclusion tonight. And wow... You really must be a virgin from how immediately tight you are, he finds it difficult to fully rock into you until drawing his hips back a few times. He could have easily taken you as soon as you walked in, but fuck if he isn’t happy that he took the time to open you up. Help finger your first orgasm out of you so that you squeeze around his cock that little bit harder from overstimulation now that he’s inside, causing him to moan into the guttural sputters Sam’s face fucking pounds out of you.

He’s sure that if your throat wasn’t currently occupied with cock right now you’d be a whimpering mess for him, hips rolling into you with precision, a practised back and forth along your unkissed walls for him to ruin . Because that’s what he wants to do with you, wants to corrupt you to the point of shame, destroy any hope of you enjoying anyone else in future because no one but him and Sam could ever hope to have you feeling the way you do right now. The perfect mixture of fear and pleasure, unsure of what to focus on more— his balls slapping against your ass to leave a soft plap! sound filling the air, or the taste of Sam’s salty precum dripping down your throat.

He’s thrown out of his indulgent thoughts only because of Sam’s greedy gulps of air, the look of fervour should be illegal on him. “Shouldn’t— Ah, fuck , jus’ like that—” Sam cuts himself off, almost falling into you from how hard he leans over, back bent to better fuck your throat with. “Should you be wearing a— a condom, right?” he finally manages to force out in between humps and moans, but Sebastian doesn’t miss the sick smile Sam wears with his otherwise serious words. The shared understanding going straight to Sebastian’s cock at how mean they’re treating you right now, with no regard for your thoughts or feelings because you just feel that good . Even if he wanted to take you into consideration, every thrust inside of your tight little virgin cunt renders him useless, a mere babble of sighs and groans, emphasising his want for you with cruel humps and grabby hands at your waist. Tugging lightly at your skin for some kind of purchase, because his mind can scarcely keep up with every unfair squeeze your hole wraps around his length.

“Ah, probably—” Sebastian sighs, but there’s no intention behind it. Lazily fucking his cock inside of your almost too tight cunt, the mere thought of pulling out to put on a condom causing his heart to race. His mind to repeat no, no, it feels too good to leave now! “Jus’ a few more seconds, then— Then I will. Promise .” He whispers those last words to you, but you’d never be able to tell by the way he stares at your cunt, eyes trained on where his cock disappears inside; it’s more like he’s talking about you rather than to you.

“She feels— shit , feels so good, doesn’t she?” Sam half laughs, half moans into the feeling of your throat tightening around him at his dirty words. Sebastian can feel it too, the way your hole wraps even snugger, as if you were asking for more.

And it’s not that Sebastian disagrees, but the tight squeeze fit inside honestly just leaves him a little breathless. Brows furrowed in pure concentration not to bust a load inside of you already. He knew you were gonna be tight, but fuck aren’t you taking things a little too far? His hips stutter into you, all precision lost on him when you wriggle around under him, the sight of your hands clawing at Sam’s hips driving him insane with lust pooling in his tummy. Dirty girl , you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“She’s a tight fuck, God , you gotta feel her, gotta fuck her—” Sebastian rambles, mind almost as much of a mess as his thighs currently are with your sticky slick and the gush of precum that dribbles down your ass to stain his sheets with every shove of his cock inside. Greedy , eager thrusts, fucking himself into a sweat that clumps his hair to his forehead, a few drops trickling down to hit your exposed tummy. Talking about you like you aren’t really there, just a hole to be fucked, an object they have the pleasure of using. And it’s a pleasure indeed, especially when Sebastian rocks his hips so deep into you that his tip kisses your cervix, prompting him to apply more weight to your sides for better leverage. A sharper angle to fuck you in, rough moans crawling up his throat at the gargled sounds you’re forced to make in response to the ruthless throat fucking Sam has you enduring. You look so cute when pliable, tits bouncing for Sebastian to become mesmerised to. He wants em back in his mouth, but he can’t slow his thrusts down enough to latch on.

But above, where Sam and Seb can look at each other, Sebastian notices how little distance is left between them. Both bent over your pretty body, taking what they want from you simply because they can. And in the heat of the moment, after a quick glance at each other, Sebastian’s tongue pokes out for just a second too long before Sam falls further forward, tongues meeting before lips eventually do too. Feeling his friends tongue glide against his own, and then eventually the weight of having his tongue sucked whilst being balls deep in your cunt has his cock throbbing hard, leaking more precum out against your walls to increase the already egregious wet slap of his thrusts. It’s all a bit too much even for him, let alone poor little virgin you, taking it in both holes because you’re in no position to fight back. And that turns him on even more too, openly moaning loud and clear down Sam’s throat while yours is getting fucked, swallowing every drip of saliva and needy groan Sam has to offer him while pinching at your sides for grounding. But it’s useless, isn’t it? With the way your insides squirm around his cock, how tight and taut his balls grow with every slap against your ass, the feeling of one of your hands wrapping so firmly around his wrist, like you’re scared that if you let go you’ll disappear, makes him sigh with adoration.

And he wants to reassure you that in spite of their rather inattentive and immoral actions tonight, they’re thankful to be using you, but Sam has one hand on your throat to feel his length hump up and down it, and the other at the back of Sebastian’s neck, effectively pinning him in position to suck some tongue. Not that he’s complaining, but God , with the way you cunt is forced to stretch to his size, a greedy need to fuck you into the shape of him, to leave your body printed on his sheets for the days to come, selfish desire dribbling from his tip and onto your cervix with every rapid thrust inside— barely able to catch his breath from Sam stealing it, humming between moans shared amongst friends because you feel so fucking good all tight like that, oh my God . It’s too much, he feels so good bullying his cock inside of you again and again, feeling the throb from tip to balls, drooling and trembling over your exposed front thanks to how messy of a kisser Sam is when lost in the feeling of your tongue massaging his length.

And the realisation suddenly hits him as he feels the all too familiar twitch in his cock, tummy doing a little flip as he forcefully removes his lips from Sam to take a sharp intake of air. A gasp, downright dirty in how he chokes on it, followed by a high pitched little whine that he wasn’t aware he could make— the things you do to him .

He’s fucking you . One of his best friends, a filthy little virgin in spite of how expertly your body reacts to his grabs and pulls, his head thrown back in pleasure only to swing the other way to hang low as his thrusts grow sloppier. Less precise and more feeling , unable to keep a consistent rhythm when your body knows exactly how to squeeze him just the way he likes, the puddle of slick and pre collecting under you coaxing him to add to the pile. His heart aches with even more twisted want.

“You’re so good to me—” he practically huffs, annoyance lacing his tone in spite of the otherwise kind compliment. It’s just— Fuck , he can’t focus. So close to the edge due to all your previous teasing, the devious smirk Sam wears when listening to his feminine fucked tone only adding to his frustrations “Best— God , you’re the best friend ever—” he laughs, but it’s all breathless and barely there when suffering the snug fit of your cunt. Like you were made to take his cock; and soon to be Sam’s. Held off just for them, didn’t you pretty girl? With how good you have him feeling, it’s easy for Sebastian to convince himself of such facts. “Just— You’ve jus’ gotta lay there and take it, okay? That’s all— all you’ve gotta do. ” He winces into his words, doing his best to hold off on cumming for just a little longer, burying his bully cock into you just a little deeper. Because despite having the rest of the night to share with you, he’s selfish ; and he doesn’t wanna stop. Not for anything, your cunt is so warm and nice, sucking off his heavy cock so sweetly— the thought of having to stop irks him instantly.

And he doesn’t think you’ll ever quite understand the joy turned lust at taking your virginity like this. How he feels just so special to be treating you like this— knows deep down in the pit of his stomach that Sam will too, especially when enjoying his sloppy seconds he’s about to give you like the nasty man he is. How he can feel your cunt struggle to fit his fat size, fucking your shape into the sheets below, Sam’s hands rough around your throat to really face fuck you now— he must be close. Sebastian can’t blame him, teetering dangerously on the edge himself through sheer willpower alone, he wants to watch you get ruined just as much as he wants to ruin you. Their perfect little princess turned slut, a mess of fluids and dumb brains, he feels lucky to be able to see you like this; even if it’s only because he and Sam have worked together to coax you into the bunny trap they laid out with ill intentions. But can you blame them? Surely not, your cunt doing her best to milk him dry, accepting his full fat length like a good girl . He decides to reward her with lazy pets, inaccurate circles against your clit more as a distraction than anything of substance. A self serving action, playing with you more as a toy than as someone who would like touch; but he doesn’t feel or hear you protesting, quite the opposite really.

Nails clawing on his arms, begging just as much as his cock does when it twitches inside of you. It’s okay, he understands all to well what you’re probably feeling right now; or at least he thinks he does. He can only guess after all. But the way you desperately cling on for dear life, how your legs raise just a little , like you’re trying to get closer to him, or better yet— help him hit that spot inside of you that you must intrinsically understand exists, tells him all he needs to know. You’re close again, and by the looks of things, so is Sam.

It’s your choice at the end of the day. That’s what he’s worked so hard for together with Sam to try and make you feel. If you wanna cum, you will. His thumb drawing sloppy circles against your clit while his cock stutters inside of you, quick snap thrusts to rub his tip across your cervix again. He’s alarmingly close to cumming inside of you already, and he’s got no qualms about finishing before you have the chance. Though embarrassingly, Sam seems to have beat him on that front. A cough of your name, stuck in his friends throat with a final thrust down your own— surely leaving you suffocating from the amount of cum Sam tends to shoot. Which is hot, Sebastian quickly decides. Balls tightening up at the sound of Sam’s loud whines, the sight of the little bit of cock you weren’t able to swallow pulsing against your tongue doing things to him, God . You’re so hot without even trying, even the little sniffles and wheezes you let out when Sam eventually pulls out of your throat are cute, allowing Sebastian full control of your body which he happily takes within his own two hands.

Now that he has you all to himself, he takes proper hold of your hips and fucks you down , matching his every upwards thrust to leave you squeaking like a fucking toy. So hot, so fucking hot, fuck — he feels dizzy . Particularly when you gasp out a quick feels good, Seb! And he’s got no choice but to hammer into you now. Acting the savage with how fast he fucks into you— Sam has to hold your shoulder weight with how hard he thrusts, practically fucking you off the bed to leave the mattress squeaking just as much as you do.

“ You cant—” he takes a big gulp of air, struggling to keep up with his speed. “Can’t just fucking say that , you’re so fucking hot—” red hot embarrassment rises to his cheeks from how pathetic he sounds, all high and soft, like a bitch in heat. Which is humiliating mostly because he’s supposed to be making you sound like that. “Letting me hit it raw? Fuck , so hot, I—”

He’s close. Thumb thrumming away at your clit out of instinct, begging to feel you cream his cock while he fucks you into the mattress below. And thankfully, it only takes a few more rubs for him to get what he wants— you’re such a good friend, aren’t you? Treating him so well, giving him exactly what he wants when he wants it; such a good little fuck for a virgin .

And while he’d love to praise you to the high heavens for cumming around his cock all sweetly like that, mouth hanging open in a silent sob, a quiet whisper of his name quickly following as your insides grip his cock so tight it’s almost too difficult for him to move— you’ve left him dumb . Rendered stupid inside of your no longer virgin cunt in awe at how fucking good it feels to make you cum. Addictive, almost. Because as soon as he starts spilling inside of you, he already wants to do it again. And again, and again, continuing his thrusting despite your sobs for him to stop out of overstimulation— that’s the best bit, don’t you know? To soak your insides white while you cry all cutely for him, the little sniffles you send his way only prompting more cum to shoot, cock fucking it as deep as possible when his hips refuse to let up. And even when you’ve fully milked him and he knows he’s running empty, he just can’t stop. Gently rolling into you despite how he’s quickly softening, only fully stopping when he inevitably slips out and he can watch his seed ooze out of you like some sort of triumph.

When he does take the time to look at something other than your cunt, he catches sight of how messy you are. From head to toe, a blushing beauty mess thanks to their treatment. It’s a good look, y’know. Has his cock already wanting more, silently trembling against himself while he catches his breath enough to compliment you. “Done so well.” He smiles earnestly, and he means it. You should look like that more often.

“Seriously!” Sam beams, back to his ordinary sunshine self after gaining more time to calm down than you and Sebastian. “Dunno about you, and no offence Seb— But, best fuck of my life.”

Sebastian scoffs at his crass words, despite how true they might be. Which is why he feels there’s no need to verbalise no offence taken , because it’s true. You’re such a good fuck that he can’t give you up, not after having a taste himself. And besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself too, didn’t you? The stupid smile you wear as you come down from your first high, the gentle shake in your legs as you paw at Sebastian to gain his attention.

He tilts his head in your direction, away from the sweet smile Sam wears and down to your just as dulcet tone. “Best— Um, sorry.” You giggle, hiccuping into your words in such a cute manner than he almost wants to choke you. Show you again and again exactly what you do to him, and by extension, Sam. So pretty without even trying, it’s annoying. He loves it. “Best kiss ever, I think.” You manage to get out, and Sebastian can only hang his head low in agreement, a twinge of guilt crawling up his throat.

“In that case…” Sam distracts him, moving to the bed and crawling over beside Sebastian, lightly pushing him out of the way. Sebastian would complain if it were worth the while, but he’s got an idea as to what Sam is about to say already, so he automatically assumes the position at your head: just like where Sam was. “Why stop now?”

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv seb smut #sdv sebastian smut #stardew valley seb smut #stardew valley sebastian smut #sdv sam smut #stardew valley sam smut #sebby🐸#sam🛹

459 notes · View notes

roksik-dnd · 1 year ago

Text

For everyone who asked: a dialogue parser for BG3 alongside with the parsed dialogue for the newest patch. The parser is not mine, but its creator a) is amazing, b) wished to stay anonymous, and c) uploaded the parser to github - any future versions will be uploaded there first!

UPD: The parser was updated!! Now all the lines are parsed, AND there are new features like audio and dialogue tree visualisation. See below!

Patch 7 dialogue is uploaded!

If you don't want to touch the parser and just want the dialogues, make sure to download the whole "BG3 ... (1.6)" folder and keep the "styles" folder within: it is needed for the html files functionality (hide/show certain types of information as per the menu at the top, jumps when you click on [jump], color for better readability, etc). See the image below for what it should look like. The formatting was borrowed from TORcommunity with their blessing.

If you want to run the parser yourself instead of downloading my parsed files, it's easy:

run bg3dialogreader.exe, OPEN any .pak file inside of your game's '\steamapps\common\Baldurs Gate 3\Data' folder,

select your language

press ‘LOAD’, it'll create a database file with all the tags, flags, etc.

Once that is done, press ‘EXPORT all dialogs to html’, and give it a minute or two to finish.

Find the parser dialogue in ‘Dialogs’ folder. If you move the folder elsewhere, move the ‘styles’ folder as well! It contains the styles you need for the color coding and functionality to keep working!

New features:

Once you've created the database (after step three above), you can also preview the dialogue trees inside of the parser and extract only what you need:

You can also listen to the correspinding audio files by clicking the line in the right window. But to do that, as the parser tells you, you need to download and put the filed from vgmstream-win64.zip inside of the parser's main folder (restart the parser after).

You can CONVERT the bg3 dialogue to the format that the Divinity Original Sin 2's Editor understands. That way, you can view the dialogues as trees! Unlike the html files, the trees don't show ALL the relevant information, but it's much easier to orient yourself in.

To get that, you DO need to have bought and installed Larian's previous game, Divinity Original Sin 2. It comes with a tool called 'The Divinity Engine 2'. Here you can read about how to unstall and lauch it. Once you have it, you need to load/create a project. We're trying to get to the point where the tool allows you to open the Dialog Editor. Then you can Open any bg3 dialogue file you want. And in case you want it, here's an in-depth Dialog Editor tutorial. But if you simply want to know how to open the Editor, here's the gist:

Update: In order to see the names of the speakers (up to ten), you can put the _merged.lsf file inside of the "\Divinity Original Sin 2\DefEd\Data\Public\[your project's name here]\RootTemplates\_merged.lsf" file path.

Feel free to ask if you have any questions! Please let me know if you modify the parser, I'd be curious to know what you added, and will possibly add it to the google drive.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #datamined #datamine #parsed dialogue #dialogue parser #parser

2K notes · View notes

badscienceman · 1 month ago

Text

I saw someone ask what "I hope this hurts" means beyond the obvious, and I started to respond only for it to turn into an essay... Because I don't feel like dumping something so long in some unsuspecting person's notifs, I'm just going to post it here instead.

I started writing this after playing the game, but ended up watching a playthrough because I couldn't remember exactly where "I hope this hurts" was repeated. I think I caught the only few times it was mentioned, but I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something, so feel free to correct me on that or anything else I might have gotten wrong.

Spoilers for the full game and CWs for everything you would expect from discussing Mouthwashing apply.

Edited 10/16/2024 for clarity and some minor issues with formatting. I added sections in hopes of making it more readable, as well as a few more screenshots that I hope will support my points better. *Indicates where I made potentially significant additions to my original analysis.

Part One: Jimmy

Jimmy is someone who has a delicate ego. This means that he's very concerned with how he's perceived by those around him. We see this in how he responds to Curly and the news of the company's closure, which he takes it as a personal attack in spite of it very clearly having nothing to do with him on a personal level.

For people like Jimmy, a threat to one's image (whether it's a matter of their perception of themselves or, maybe worse, the perception others have of them) brings intense emotional pain. Even though it's clear that Curly meant no personal offense, and likely saw more good in Jimmy than was actually there, Jimmy sees this as a great threat to his own image, and thus identity.

To be clear, it's not just that Jimmy thinks Curly is looking down on him. It's also that Jimmy needs his role in the company to maintain his image, and he needs to eventually become captain. This is his ultimate goal because the respect and control that someone like Curly has, in Jimmy's mind, is tied to the title he possesses. And Jimmy wants that. He wants respect, he wants to be listened to, he wants power over others. (This is also why Swansea's final speech is so important, in relation to the belief that if one just reaches this next goal, they might feel a little more human, a little more in control, a little more fulfilled, but as Swansea shows us, that's just not the case. And it's true for Jimmy, too. Jimmy isn't magically fulfilled by obtaining the title of captain.)

But in the beginning, Jimmy has yet to realize that just getting the role of captain won't magically make him a man who is respected, or even a man who is truly in control. He sees no opportunities for himself on earth. The only option is to stay in this company and become a little lord of his own ship... and suddenly that's ripped out from under him. He will never reach the goal he's been chasing for all of this time.

Anya telling him about her pregnancy is the final push he needs to go over the edge.

Part Two: Captain

Returning to the initial reveal that the company is shutting down for a second, I think it's important to keep in mind a few things:

1. The importance of the title of captain in Jimmy's mind.

2. How this extends to his perception of Curly, him being the current captain.

3. Jimmy's self-centeredness preventing him from understanding the feelings and perceptions of those around him.

When Curly says what he does, Jimmy immediately jumps to the conclusion that Curly sees himself as above everyone else (and most importantly, as above Jimmy), to the point of considering them "dirt." I don't think Jimmy is just projecting his greatest fear (being seen as lesser) onto Curly. I think he's projecting his own perceptions.

He's placed all of this importance on the title of captain, and thus Curly. The captain is above Jimmy. Jimmy is beneath him, is lesser. And we know how Jimmy treats those he sees as lesser (first Anya, and then the rest of the crew once he's captain, *manipulating Daisuke into putting his life at risk because Daisuke, who is just an intern after all, just isn't important to Jimmy being an example).

I think this is a fair reading because Jimmy does something similar with Swansea when he insists that Swansea is keeping the last cryostasis pod for himself. I understand some might say that this is just Jimmy's attempt to manipulate Daisuke and Jimmy doesn't actually believe it, which is a fair interpretation, but I sincerely think he believes what he's saying in this instance. And I think that because Jimmy sees selfishness as common sense. It's what he would do were he in Swansea's position, and what makes him giving the pod to Curly significant.

Part Three: Anya

So, Jimmy is already hurt and panicking. He sees his chance at power and thus fulfillment slipping away. And then Anya tells him that she's pregnant.

Anya, who he has shown time and time again that he thinks little of.

Anya, who he clearly sees as beneath him.

Any mention of the pregnancy, no matter how gently it was worded, would immediately feel like a threat to him on multiple levels. And not only that, but a threat from someone lesser than him. His image, his status, his control, his power—it's already slipping from his fingertips. *It's happening right then, in that moment. It's not just a potential future where he's held accountable in a real way (maybe if Anya involved authorities, or if Jimmy was legally responsible for supporting a child once they returned to earth). It's happening now, because his image is crumbling.

For this reason, I believe I hope this hurts to be directed at anyone and everyone that he sees as "threatening" him.

Anya and Curly have made him hurt. He wants to make them hurt.

He doesn't care about Daisuke and Swansea. If anything, he's so caught up in himself and this contorted vision of reality, I wouldn't be shocked if he convinced himself in the moment that they, too, were looking down on him for some reason. (See again, "I know what everyone is thinking. The way they look at me." Obviously this is said in the midst of his spiral, after the crash, but I wouldn't doubt the paranoia was there before that moment.)

He wants to make them hurt as they've hurt him. He may also want to make himself hurt in order to vent out his emotional pain. If not, death may simply be the easiest way to escape pain and the threat the future holds in his mind.

*Part Four: Without the Guilt

In addition to all of this, I think crashing the ship (making them hurt) is his vision of what Curly has done or is doing to him. This is how he "leave(s) the dirt behind."

To understand this, I'm going to include the birthday conversation and the conversation between Jimmy and Curly about crashing the ship.

Jimmy: ... So I guess you got what you wanted. Without the guilt. Curly: Jim... If I had known... Jimmy: I can go back to my, how'd you put it? "Struggle of a life?" Jimmy: Anya never got into medical school because she's... well, let's be real. Jimmy: And how many employment years Swansea got left in him? Jimmy: Daisuke will be fine, mommy and daddy have him covered. So there's that at least. Jimmy: But you. Headed for bigger and better, right? Curly: I'm just... I'm just working on my life being a place I don't have to fucking escape! That's what I was trying to tell you, nothing mor- Jimmy: We're the ones you're trying to escape! Leave the dirt behind now that your boots are clean! Curly: That's not what I meant. Jimmy: It is what you meant. Jimmy: You just couldn't frame it to yourself in a way that kept you as the hero. Jimmy: Abandon the crew but remain the model captain.

To me, this is one of the most important and revealing sections of the game. Jimmy is not only projecting onto Curly, he's telling us exactly what he's going to go on to do (or attempt to do) when he becomes captain.

In addition to this, we see his manipulation on full display as he twists Curly's words and won't allow him even a moment to truly speak beyond a few lines he manages to get in between Jimmy's ranting.

That's not to mention we see the beginning of yet another pattern in Jimmy's behavior: getting a person to admit their weakness, then using it against them and/or using it to hurt them (he does this with Daisuke, for example, when he hears Daisuke's fears/desire for approval and proceeds to use it to get Daisuke in the vent). Here, Curly speaks about feeling trapped. Jimmy will soon trap him in a crashed ship just as much as he traps him in his own body, which Jimmy will proceed to drug. But I'll return to that.

Curly: Jim. I can fix this. Jimmy: What do you think will happen when we get back? Hm? Curly: We can figure all of this out. You and me. Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy: All I ever hear is how great of a leader you are. God, it's so annoying. Jimmy: But, now... What do you think will happen now when we get back? Curly: We'll fix this together. Jimmy: Everything you and I worked for in our lives. Accomplishments, changes. Jimmy: None of it will matter. Curly: You've gotten through difficult situations before. This time won't be any different. Work through it, one day at a time. Jimmy: It's not just me, is it? Jimmy: You were supposed to be the one who had everything under control. You said so yourself. Jimmy: The ship, this crew, everything that happened here... Jimmy: This was your responsibility, Captain. Jimmy: That is what you'll be hearing the rest of your life. Take responsibility. Jimmy: Or this can all be remembered as a tragedy. Jimmy: Despite what must have been the best efforts of its acclaimed captain. Jimmy: The Tulpar crew was never found. Jimmy: No one survived to tell the tale. Take responsibility. Jimmy: You're standing at the top. Jimmy: Feet in cement. Jimmy: I get it now. Right? Curly: ... Curly: ... Right.

This is an important moment, because aside from the scene in which Jimmy is approaching Curly while he's on fire, it's the only other time that I can recall the game separating from their perspectives to allow us to see them both, standing together.

We see a flash of Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy begins to pull away. Another flash. He continues to draw back. Another. He turns towards the cockpit.

Jimmy sees through Curly. He sees Curly's worst where Curly sees only Jimmy's best, and he's more that willing to use that against Curly.

He sees a man who is not going to do what's hard. He sees a man who is going to try to "fix it" only in the most superficial sense. A man who confuses the appearance of cohesion and peace with the reality of it. Someone who sees the rocking of the boat as a manifestation of taking action against a wrong rather than the wrong itself.

In the end, it seems they're both ruled by appearances. And Jimmy will soon rip appearances in every sense from Curly's fingertips. He will make him hurt. He will get his revenge. He'll turn Curly into the villain, taking away his title, his respect, and his very face.

For daring to look down on him, Jimmy will turn Curly into dust.

But I think these words—I hope it hurts—come back to haunt him.

Part Five: The Eye as a Mirror

Like I said, I went back to try to find each time the phrase is used. There's the beginning, of course, but then there's the pregnancy sequence, for lack of a better name.

When the Polle monstrosity emerges from the giant uterus (?), we see these words:

In this sequence, we see a lot of different images and concepts connected: Anya's pregnancy and thus her sexual assault by Jimmy are tied to Polle and the company. The emergence of the Polle monster from the giant uterus (and the idea of the removal of the pregnancy) is tied to the mouthwash, as it's an act of "cleansing." This is all then tied to the phrase I hope this hurts.

Unless I missed something, these are the only two moments when the phrase is used: When Jimmy crashes the ship, and when he's experiencing this hallucination.

All clean! Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth, huh? Through wreckage! Through silence! Wash it away! All day fire fresh!

"Clean" is important immediately. "Leave the dirt behind you now that your boots are clean," Jimmy says. Because in this accusation is Jimmy's actual intentions himself. He wants to rise above others and clean himself from their filth. Now, he wants to clean himself of his sins.

I think "Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth" is mocking him. A direct challenge to the thought that he could ever truly be "cleaned," at least in the ways he's so desperately trying to go about it. *Not to mention how this connects to the mouthwash, as it might get that 99%, but there's always going to be 1% left.

"Through wreckage" obviously refers to the wrecking of the ship, but also of their lives. All by Jimmy. Though I wouldn't doubt in his mind it connects to the wreckage of consequences (ie. Anya's pregnancy resulting from Jimmy's actions).

"Through silence" I feel connects back to Jimmy's attempts to keep everything quiet, both literally and figuratively.

"Wash it away" also has a mocking edge, as if stressing the foolishness of Jimmy's attempts to treat these very serious events as if it's all just "dirt" he can wipe off.

Finally, we see "All day fire fresh!" This line stresses the connection to the mouthwash, of course. It also calls to mind the concept of cleansing by fire. Important considering Curly.

And after each, I hope it hurts. Jimmy's statement of pure, childish rage. His desperate desire to make others hurt as he hurts. To lash out, to get revenge. To have control until the very end.

This is also why Polle haunts him. Because he, as a man desperate for control, will always be under the thumb of the company even with that title of captain. That hurts him. And maybe the closest thing to ever recognizing the evil he's done to Anya is envisioning it as similar to the company's control, but even that feels like a mockery because he's so horrifically incapable of seeing her as a human being that she's been reduced to her womb. That's what he's really afraid of, in the end, and the fear feels like something else is in control. It makes the organ feel giant, larger than him, capable of hurting him.

When I was watching the playthrough, I thought that there was going to be four or five "I hope it hurts." I thought it would represent each person Jimmy hurts, or all of them, because he hurts himself too. When the sixth came, I thought so much for that theory. But then, I thought about it and there's the fetus. That makes six.

So, I hope this hurts means "I want to hurt you the way I've been hurt. The way you've hurt me." It's Jimmy saying that if his life has been wrecked, he'll wreck yours. It's Jimmy saying he'll shut you up. It's Jimmy saying he'll burn everything down if it means he can maintain control, or even just the illusion of it.

Part Six: Pain

But I think there's another side to this. Like some of the other lines I said feel are mocking him, I think I hope this hurts turns against Jimmy, especially here. And more than that, pain (and by extension, pain medication) plays a massive role in the game, after all. So I hope this hurts feels as if it haunts every moment where it's involved.

Jimmy says this the first time he gives Curly his pills. Pain is how we know we're still living.

The pills are clearly connected to death from the start. If "pain is how we know we're still living" then pain is connected to life and freedom from it is connected to death. That's saying nothing of Anya's use of the pills to kill herself. I think this connects back to the crash, as well. If life is pain, death is an escape from it.

I think it's also significant that the act of swallowing the pain pills is in and of itself painful.

The pills that are meant to take the pain away become a method of torturing Curly. It's a way to make him hurt, and to exert control over him. Even something that should take away his suffering is just an extension of it.

At one point, Jimmy says "Once these are out, we'll have nothing to keep him quiet." In this sense, the pain pills are meant to suppress, not to heal (Through silence!). They're supposed to shut Curly up and keep him from expressing his anguish in the only way he has left (the noises that disturb Jimmy's sleep).

Others have compared this, or Curly's state, to how Anya has been forced to bottle up her own suffering. Jimmy is keeping them both quiet, or at least attempting to. The ultimate form of keeping them quiet would be to, of course, kill them all.

The pills can also be seen as an attempt to hide or conceal the hurt that has been caused rather than to actually heal. In this way, they're like the mouthwash: something that's not really helping, just covering up an issue (and thus making it worse). And the mouthwash represents Jimmy's attempts to "fix" things. He doesn't actually want to make things right, because that would mean taking accountability. He wants to protect his own ego by "fixing" things in a mimicry of Curly "fixing" things in which he wants to create a sense of "rightness" without actually adressing what (or who) has been wronged. Jimmy can't stand to look at himself, because he would see that he really is constructed of his worst moments, or at least, that's what I suspect he would see.

Conclusion

Considering all of this, I hope this hurts can then become a mantra about living in spite of everything. I hope this hurts means "I hope I'm alive in the end. I hope we're all alive in the end." It could mean "I hope I'm allowed to hurt, because I am hurt, and the harm that's been done to me must be seen rather than suppressed and hidden." It could mean "You can't keep me quiet. You can't ignore or hide what you've done to me."

Maybe most of all, I think it means I hope you reap what you sow. When it's turned back on Jimmy, when it's almost mocking or haunting him, it becomes in part about his emotional weakness. About his inability to look at himself and his reality without experiencing the pain of humiliation. I don't think he ever experiences half of the pain he's inflicted on those around him. Still, he has to deal with the fact that his attempt to hurt others instead of facing himself has caused him more pain rather than taken it away as he'd hoped.

And I think that's why he suddenly decides to make Curly a "hero" instead of a "villain." There's a tipping point where he's pushed into a corner. The pain is too much. He hasn't confronted his own actions in any real way, but he's done enough that he can't stand to save himself anymore. It hurts too badly to live with what he's done. It sends him into another stage of fantasy/delusion. The only thing left to do is what he intended to from the start: kill himself to escape and damn Curly to a slow death. Because to go on living in spite of the pain would be the right thing to do, in a sense. To live in the hell of his own creation. To face what he's done. But instead, he'll entrust those heroics to Curly.

This feels barely coherent in the end, so I might come back in a few days and say wow what the fuck was I talking about? But hopefully there's something here that captures some truth. Again, please feel free to correct me if I'm misremembering anything or if I missed something.

#mouthwashing #spoilers #tw #cw #most of the fucked up mouthwashing shit is mentioned here #idk how ppl are handling tws because are some considered spoilers?#idk

296 notes · View notes

tofupixel · 4 months ago

Note

I recently started learning to use rpg maker (vx ace!) and as a result have become increasingly interested in pixel art. I hadn't really done pixel work since my teens - I do more digital painting and vector art - so while I'm a little familiar and can do passable editing, there's a lot I don't know.

One thing that's kind of perplexing for me is understanding the differences in style between two creators of pixel art. I studied art history and I'm used to the differences being things like brush stroke length or degree of realism... I feel like I'm lacking in lexicon in this new frontier lol

What nuances of an artist do you think are most important to style in pixel art?

This kind of stuff is not really officially studied (yet) so it's all a bit of opinion from me.

Usually in pixel art the biggest differences in styles are which limitations the artists choose to impose on themselves; colour count, resolution, palette... Or more stylistic choices like hue shifting, anti-aliasing style or no, dithering or no, etc.

I personally think there are a huge variety of styles in pixel art, as it's literally just a medium, and I hope you'll agree by the end 8)

Also (imo) there is some seperation between the styles of art for art's sake, and art for videogames, where things have to be clear and readable to be actually playable.

🎮 Old school games:

Sometimes referred to as something like '8-bit' or '16-bit' (relating to the NES era / SNES era consoles), these artstyles usually follow the rules and limitations of the hardware at the time.

This all falls under retro art, most popular styles include: NES, SNES, GB, GBC, C64

Notable artists: Nickwoz, Sandy Gordon, Franken, Cisco

📚 Old school art:

There were also events called Demoscene (still are), where developers would go to a big convention and share their demos. A lot of pixel art competitions were held here, where artists would draw live.

Generally they used to favour a high realism/semirealism style, with lots of texture/dithering, fairly high resolution (if the hardware allowed for it), and adjacent pixels mostly being different from one another.

There are even older styles than this but they are fairly niche and I'm not that well educated. If interested look into some of the old PCs/consoles.

⭐ Modern pixel art:

Usually using more colours and higher resolution, larger clusters of pixels instead of individual ones. Strong use of art fundamentals.

Artists to look at: Adam Ferguson (yes it is pixel art), Snake, Slym, 6VCR, Yes I do Pixels, Gijotto, SovanJedi, JoeCreates, Franek, @8pxl

the rest below are "modern" pixel artists too but I think they have other things in their style that are a bit different!

🎨 Painterly:

Some artists choose to emulate the natural brushstrokes digitally, and keep their clusters large and loose. Usually don't focus on the minute details as much.

@makrustic, @hexh-pixel, Umbohr, Gawrone

🟦 Dithering

These artists all use dithering / texture in ways that make their styles totally unique.

Deceiver, Night, Reo,

💥 Experimental

These artists are always trying new things and honing in on their unique style.

AJ, hby, @ilta222, Alphons

I could really go on for ever, there are so many different styles, cute pixel art, horror pixel art, 1bit (2 colours only), and then adding animation takes it even further, but I think you get the idea

If you want to learn more, the Masters of Pixel Art books have works /interviews from pixel artists of different eras, including demoscene and contemporary.

😊👍

#qna #tutorial #pixel art tutorial #art style #pixel art style #pixel art lore

247 notes · View notes

kissoulie · 3 months ago

Text

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. bowling with p1harmony!

a/n: some of u may not know but hot & mysterious user kissoulie has a bowling hyperfixation!! 😭 i went bowling last night for 3hrs and i'm prob going to go again tonight 🤭 this reminded me that seob posted a pic of piwon bowling while they were on tour which is why my brain made this! this is def not my best work but i work like all week so i wanted to write a lil smth silly, short, & fun before i post my first series masterlist tmrw 💓

cws: fem bodied reader but generally gender neutral (use of "pretty"), not entirely explicit smut?? it's just not super detailed the bowling is the main focus my bad 😭, 3some (soulseob), skim proofread for readability only pls excuse all spelling/grammar errors i wrote half of this in a movie theater! that's all i believe, lmk if i missed anything ‹3

— keeho.

he definitely has an average over 125 you cannot convince me otherwise. he's a straight bowler, but knows how to hook a ball. i also think he has his own bowling ball because he's extra like that. best bowler in piwon!!! i think he kinda bowls like an old man, and still gets extremely hyped for every strike. he will def blow your back out after a bowling date though ❤️ his baby did so well!!! you even almost beat him, so he thinks you deserve a reward, and he knows for you there's no better reward than his fingers inside you while he fucks your pretty head empty.

�� taeyang.

he's the average bowler for sure. i'm not entirely convinced he gets super competitive over it, i think he's just there to have fun!! definitely uses an 8, has no particular technique he just walks forward and sends it lol. assuming you're bowling at a place with couches, he for sure has you in his lap while his members go. he orders you both french fries but soul eats them all while you're distracted eye fucking each other 😭😭 he'll start feeling you up, one hand inching higher and higher up your thigh while the other presses against your middle to hold you in place. may or may not invite you to a 'bathroom' break by tapping your thigh and announcing, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" with some searing eye contact while he walks away, which will leave your stomach in knots thinking about how he's going to rearrange your insides ‹3

— jiung.

i think he's super competitive about this actually 😭 he probably practices bowling at least once a week if they go often, it's something he has a lot of fun getting better at! he hooks as many of his shots as he can, definitely a spare sniper who leaves only a few frames open per game. maybe i'm just a jiung professional bowler truther. he uses his newfound finger dexterity on you though, curling his fingers inside you perfectly while thumbing at your clit. he'll have you seeing stars in no time.

— intak.

straight bowler, averages 100, bowls with a 9. he's pretty straightforward when bowling, he's there to have a good time & look good doing it. i am also of a mind that he plays pool, specifically with you. loser gets the best head of their life (his idea). naturally, he's the one who wins and gets to have you choking around his cock in the back seat while the rest of his members wonder where you both have gone.

— soulseob.

The competitive ever. please they both want to impress you!!! seob is bowling for his life!!!! soul is just having fun!!!! (he got a gutter ball and screeched like a dinosaur.) your little giggles spur them on, "winner gets a kiss" 😭 their sibling rivalry has been unlocked, but their rivalry in bed is worse!! seob did throw 119 in the end, beating soul by 3 pins, and he wastes no time in taking you back to the dorms to get his prize. he shoves you down onto his bed while soul trails behind, "watch us, sho." jongseob holds your hands to pin them to the bed, slipping into you with a wet squelch. his body grinds into yours with desperation you didn't know he had. he fucks you nice and rough. "think he deserves a consolation prize, baby?" you nod dumbly, your eyes droopy and dilated. "poor princess." he muses, beckoning soul closer, letting him stretch you out impossibly wider, your mouth dropping open in a broken moan. ‹3

taglist: @tkooooop ♡

#p1harmony #p1harmony smut #p1harmony x reader

100 notes · View notes

celerifleuri · 12 days ago

Note

How did you code the game?? I'd like to make my own game in the future and I'd really appreciate some tips or tutorials if you have that😭😭(THE GAME WAS LITERALLY SO GOOD AND I WISH THERE WAS A PART 2 ICL)

as much as i love complaining about renpy, it is actually pretty simple and straightforward!

two links before getting more into it

the renpy documentation, your most reliable friend

the current script for hold your tongues, so you can see for yourself what the code is like vs what the game you get looks like

(might not be the most perfect/efficient code but it gets the job done!)

the way i went about it was basically in multiple rounds of edits, each focusing mainly on one aspect

you want to have your lines written first (doesn't have to be the final version, you're very likely to edit a bit as you go) so you can arrange them into proper code ("", associated characters)

+ i personally did it later for readability but you might want to think about the flow of these lines there too ({w} click again, \n new line, {p} them both)

while doing that (or when you're plainly writing too), i recommend adding notes of images, expressions, sounds you might want in specific places. this will make your life easier

because images (especially if you have a lot) take time to code and can definitely drive you a bit insane!

starling. has 2 bodies (+ associated faces)

so that the game doesn't get needlessly heavy, you separate the body (always:, so it is always there when you show the sprite) and the faces (you could even separate the facial features which gives you more things to code but can also give you more freedom)

these two types of files won't magically attach themselves perfectly on screen so be ready to potentially have your eyes suffer a bit!

you need to fuck around with the pos(x, y) until it looks fine ☺️

as for maelyn, she's shown as a side image so

the key thing here is to title the files side [name] [expression]

and when defining the characters, associate [name] as their image so the side image shows even when the other characters are speaking

for other kinds of images (like bgs, cgs), you'll find everything on the documentation and forums if needed!

now for sounds, you'll also easily find how to code them on the documentation but for where to find the actual sounds, i recommend

good luck with your game and don't worry too much, there are lots of resources out there!

as for a part 2 well there won't be a very long continuation of one ending especially (for fairly obvious reasons) but i do have lots of bonus episodes planned and all of them combined would probably be longer than what's currently out (too many ideas in the brain, not enough time 💀) so yeah you can look forward to that

#hold your tongues #sel in renpy hell

111 notes · View notes

juliametzgerart · 10 months ago

Text

I have shared versions of this on other platforms before, so I might as well make a tumblr edition: here some tips for MtG portfolios I gathered and might be interesting for some people who follow me. 1. Since this is a trading card game, here comes the obvious one first: Always keep in mind that these are card illustrations, they have to be readable in super small. Which means that strong silhouettes and value structures are a must have. If you work digital, check the zoomed out version on regular basis, or even have some jpgs to check their thumbnails in your file browser. That can give you an idea about their readability. Traditionally you can of course take some steps back, or take some photographs to look at smaller previews on your devices. Also: print illustrations often come out darker than their screen versions, be careful with your darks! It's rather easy for things to go muddy, even if they look good on screen. In doubt, increase the brightness a bit. It's okay to have different versions for screen and print to meet their needs.

2. Be versatile about your topics and compositions. Zoom in, zoom out. Don't fall into the trap of your own comfort zone zoom level of showing things, or one way of doing things. It can be positive to offer purposefully unusual options.

3. Be aware of the focus. If you have a magician with a staff, ask yourself if the card is about the staff(artifact), the mage (creature) or perhaps even the spell. The composition and focus of the illustration should shift accordingly! Clear action is important for readability – since that is not just visual hierarchy here, but also storytelling. Which brings me to the next point: 4. Good narrative matters, but mechanics matter even more. So, again, be very aware of your illustration's focus. You can potentially add extra elements for the story to make it more fun, but it should not get too convoluted, and even less should it distract from what the card it actually about. If you come up with your very own ideas for a portfolio this is of course much more open than if you work from a description. But you can find a bunch of official MtG descriptions online which are super useful for training.

5. Show care. Plan the illustration, get the references in place. It's the best time to get good habits in place, and really finish the pieces. Don't make them weaker by going too fast, that is not convincing. It just lets people assume worse things for tight deadlines. This does not mean everything needs to be rendered to death - but shape design should remain thoughtful and purposeful even where soft and lost edges are used.

6. It's potentially okay to have your specific stylistic or thematic niche. It can mean less assignments at times, but can also mean more special ones. It's cool though for your voice to be visible as long as the other needs of the product are met.

7. Never stop using those references. Get them, make them, use them - take them seriously. (at least for any of the more realistic styles). It's one of the most repeated tips for any student to actually just use more references. They do a ton to get complicated things like anatomy and lighting right, but also cultural references and versatility. Many of the best Magic artists also make the best references – it's not a coincidence. Learn from the people who have already established themselves, they have great wisdom to share. 8. Your quality has to match the current roster. Yeah, sorry, no way around that one. You need at least to be as good as the currently "worst" artist in the roster to have a chance. And the ADs need to be sure that even on a bad day your art can meet their quality bar. Which is the reason why you likely need several art pieces at the required level, to prove it wasn't just some lucky fluke. Though once you're really there, that also means a bit less pressure to perform, since you're likely comfortable at your skill level and can only go up from there.

#magic the gathering #julia metzger #mtg #illustration #portfolio tips #art tips #mtg portfolio things

199 notes · View notes

ladytabletop · 1 year ago

Note

Do you happen to have any resources regarding accessibility in ttrpg design? About design, colours, phrasing of text or anything else that could be helpful!

I spent wayyyyy too long compiling all this - but it's important, and I appreciate you asking!!

Accessibility is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I will say up front that I'm not sure universal (aka accessible to everyone) design is possible, because people's needs can vary even within the same subset of similar disabilities (such as limited vision or blindness). BUT that doesn't mean we don't try to design for and make our games available to as many people as possible. Mismatch by Kat Holmes is a great read on design for accessibility in general, as is Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez. You might also check out literally anything Alice Wong has ever done.

To start, I recommend this article on the Lenses of Accessibility.

(for reference, this article is about web/graphic design, so I'm going to try and distill the most salient points for game design)

We are going to primarily focus on a few of these lenses:

Color

Font

Images & Icons

Layout

Readability

Structure

Keyboard

More details under the cut.

Color

Why does color matter? Well, for starters, there's a lot of colorblind people out there. Contrast affects readability. Autistic people and people who suffer from occular migraines might be affected by particular vivid colors. There's lots of reasons to consider color and the work it is doing in your piece, but in general you can provide a black and white, high contrast version of your game to help users.

There are tools out there to figure out if your contrast meets certain readability standards, such as this one.

Font

Dyslexia and other visual processing issues can make font choice really important. Plus, some fonts really affect readability. Additionally, line height, justification, and size of text can affect readability.

Best practice would be to provide a plain-text version of your game (and beware of "dyslexia-friendly" fonts which may or may not actually help - sticking to a basic readability font like Arial, Tahoma, or Verdana, is safest). I like this style guide for reference.

Images & Icons

For visually-impaired people, it's important to use alt-text, descriptions, and/or captions to help screenreaders properly translate images. Tons and tons of details that could go into this, but there are better people than me to describe it.

Layout

We've talked about this a bit, but there's tons of resources for this. There was recently a great writeup about Yazeba's Bed and Breakfast in terms of layout that I highly recommend.

Readability

More of the thing we've already talked about - it really is a combination of all the other lenses that comes down to readability. Audio versions of your game are always a good way to avoid the restrictions of screen readers, but can be expensive to produce.

Structure

This is tables. Tables are a nightmare for screenreaders, but including them as images can also be a problem. The short solution is "don't use tables" but that's not necessarily great for seeing people. The section in this blog is really great when talking about options for structure.

Keyboard

Debated on whether to include this, but given how many games are being read as purely digital files, I think it's important to have workable interactive elements that can be navigated through without a mouse. Some of that is going to come down to the programs being used to open your files. But if there are things you can do on your end (such as labeling form fillable fields on an interactive character sheet), they're worth doing!

Please understand that this isn't an exhaustive list. There's tons of resources out there and technology and standards are constantly changing.

It's also is important to note that even doing one of these things is helpful. You might look at this list and go "wow that's too hard" but I promise you, it's worth it. My games do not all have accessible versions! That's something I'm trying to rectify. The biggest part of that for me is thinking about accessibility from the start instead of at the end! But we can start today, and that's better than not starting.

The most important thing to remember are that disabled people are NOT a monolith - needs will differ from person to person. Accessible design makes gaming better for everyone!

Final Resources:

Accessibility in InDesign

Accessible-RPG

A11Y

Accessible Design for Teams

#ttrpg #accessibility #indie ttrpg #the lady answers

319 notes · View notes

aquilamage · 2 years ago

Text

so if you lose the eating competition you get this dialogue

Leif: Sorry. We never expected Chubee to be so powerful.

Kabbu: Do not worry. But how should we proceed? That offering is essential for our festival plan.

Vi: Um, Chubee's my friend, right? Maybe we can trade with her!

Leif: A non violent plan? Impressive.

Kabbu: It's worth a shot! We've got nothing left to lose.

and the fact that Leif was apparently expecting Vi to suggest jumping Chubee for the offering, or something, is so funny to me

#an aquila original #more like aquila makes an easily readable textdump transcript of the bug game #especially since it also reads to me like leif wouldn't not have been down for a violent plan necessarily #(mothiva and leif related conspiracy voice; joking) well we can see who she got that inclination from #moth family agendaposting

9 notes · View notes

slimeology · 11 months ago

Text

Well this is likely outdated of me by now buut my own interpretation of a certain computer yes... The notes on this vary to more of facts and like design notes for myself, with a boring white background cause UH readability,, yep! I'm shoving all my ideas below along with bonus image B]

Riiight, allow me to simply lay out my ideas and go against what i have seen this guy been characterised as for years YEA?? THough i wanna touch on how he functions first, so i think out of all possible designs i may make for more characters [at least one more i will make!!! maybe two!! maybe... more?] he is most biologically human. like he probably was just a guy once. but now computerised through means!

Underneath the metal / synthetic components is actual person, though most of it is very not nice to percieve. the only untouched part of him is the midsection, basically the vitals. Other than that, it ranges from a little less skin, to probably not even indentifiable as what it was before.

The image shows it somewhat!! The gloves are removeable and instead of angry wires simply take skinless hand! [ALSO LEMME KNOW IF I SHOULD TAG PLEASE - it is very hard for me to judge yes or not!! i do not mind doing it! also i have no idea what to put if so.] It's my general explaination of why he can touch you, but you touch him and it does not end well. Cause it probably hurts honestly! and he's seensitive....

As for personality, he's not that kind. Kind of more, passive agression most of the time really, unless you're wanting to know about the wonders of the internet he couldn't really care what you're on about. But even then, he will act like he knows all of the things ever [because it is on the internet.] Some of his facts may not entirely be true but why fact check?? the internet is not wrong! but also he will be deliberately wrong, if it's funny. aaaand you might believe it.

Computer day is simply the one day a year he agrees to actually 'be nice' and 'cooperative'. Any other day is free game.

The digital world still exists too, it's essentially his sleep state, he simply plugs himself into the wall and while outwardly he is unconsious, he is there instead! He can get other people there by uhh jamming a plug into your brain! don't worry he got a medical lisence from the internet, and has adequately accounted for your skull being in the way :]

Anyways these are somehow all the ideas i had before i even designed the guy??? UH... i will stop throwing so many words out there now. i guess one final fun fact is he probbaly just only eats oatmeal and nothing else. and mmayybe i shoved the 'tism onto him bit. sbhhhh shhhhh you heard nothing,,,

#art #artwork #goopy art :]#digitalart #dhmis #dhmis fanart #dont hug me im scared #dhmis colin #colin dhmis

265 notes · View notes

neetily · 3 months ago

Text

Just Hanging Out — M!Robin, M!Kylar, M!Whitney, M!Sydney

— ✧ warnings: Piss kink, pissing, Cockwarming, Fingering, Creampie — ✧ word count: 1,117 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Late at night, when most of the orphanage has went to bed and all the lights are out lest Bailey shows up to shout expletives; a bright screen illuminates your face. Robin's, too, though less so with the way he's got you situated on his lap, the low drone from the video game filling the room does very little to hide his huffed breaths heaved from behind you. Brushing up against your neck, your back to his chest; it's rather warm, isn't it? Both of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, controller in his twitching hands resting between your legs. You're so soft, did you know that? Completely exposed and trembling against him, letting out little gasps for air and bitten back moans. Gotta stay quiet, he'd reminded you. The late night gaming session paired with his head buried in the crook of your neck, half closed eyes just barely focusing on the blurry screen in a half hearted attempt to pass the next level, cock buried deep in your squishy cunt for you to squirm on. It's his favourite way to game, he decides, forcing you to endure cockwarming him as some sort of private game only he can play with you. Even if you can't be as loud as he'd like to make you, feeling you struggle to sit still enough for him to win the game is addictive, drooling over your sensitive neck in mutual frustration. The casual setting just getting to him when he's balls deep in you, struggling himself. Who will win, do you think?

Though he'd never encourage it, seeing your pretty face show up in the library as you skip classes to be with him is secretly Sydney's favourite sight. Reading time, right? That, similarly, is his favourite time of day. Pulling out a new book, getting you situated on a seat in a hidden corner of the library with him by your side, pressed shoulder to shoulder so that you can see the words too. It's fun getting to read with you, not just because he enjoys experiencing new things with you, a shared interest in literature is a good way to spend some time together, he thinks. But also, more selfishly, because the cute way you shift in your seat as he pushes another finger into your little cunt is by far the best part of it all, no? Slowly, almost lazily, fucking his fingers into you. One by one, never missing a beat in the story as he finger fucks in and out of you idly, cock straining in his dress pants from the blatantly loud squelch your cunt makes in the relatively quiet library. Curling his fingers against your sweet spot when he's knuckle deep, only taking a break from the story to gently remind you to hush, you're in the library, when you start to moan a little too loud for his liking. He can't help but to tease you!

Kylar can't seem to focus on anything useful when you ask him how his day was, finding it difficult to keep his lewd expressions contained when you're bouncing on his cock so well like that. His tummy filled with butterflies at the way you seem to act so... Casual, as if you weren't riding him into the sheets below right now, his nervous fingers digging into your hips with a thick gulp. He can never answer you appropriately when you take to engaging in small talk while fucking him, his voice coming out all strained and broken. F-fine, he usually responds with; regardless of if that's true or not. It's just, well... Fuck, he feels so fucking stupid when you circle your hips on his lap like that, eyelashes fluttering shut as you continue to talk absentmindedly. Like you couldn't care less for his answer, God that's so hot. What did you do today, Kylar? as you drag your hips forward, grinding your pretty puffy clit against his pelvis, still yet looking unbothered by the way his cock throbs inside of you. I, uh... I don't know, nothing? he answers with a moan, back arching off the sheets when you drag your hips back down his pulsing cock. Did you at least eat well today? you ask nonchalantly, and his mind is so fucking blank from the inane conversation and bland tone you adopt that he hasn't even got the chance to warn you of his approaching orgasm before he shoots a load inside of you, cheeks red hot at the realisation that he's came to mere chitchat. That's how much he loves you, gasping a quick no to answer your previous unimportant question as you effortlessly milk him with a bored expression.

He knew you'd be in here like clockwork, waiting for him to show up like how he always does every morning before classes start. The mundanity of it all is exciting to Whitney, swinging the bathroom stall open to find you standing where you should be, toying with the hem of your shirt in assumed giddiness for the daily ritual. So normal is the routine, in fact, that he no longer has to prompt you into pulling your skirt up for him, the sight of your no panties aiding his fat cock to harden as he whips it out above the toilet. There's no need to use it though, is there? Stroking himself once or twice to make sure he's fully hard, enough to easily glide his twitching tip into your tight little hole just in time, too. You should be thankful he refuses to use the bathroom at home, dealing with the uncomfortable pressure in his tummy all the way to school just for you. A quite hiss escaping him at the warm feeling that immediately wraps around him, little cunt instantly coaxing piss to stream out from his erection as if begging to be used. His own personal toilet, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you pressed snug against him, unable to stop the barely there humps inside of you as he pisses, emptying himself into his favourite hole. Huffing right against your ear as he bends his upper body into you, marking your insides with his piss, just keeping the freaks away from my slut, he reminds you. And it's a long piss too, some of it dripping from your filled up hole to coat his cock, dribbling down to the actual toilet under you as he finishes with a shaky sigh. And that's all he ever does, pulling out to gently dab himself clean now that's he's done pissing. See ya in an hour or somethin' he taps your cheek twice before leaving.

79 notes · View notes

justporo · 3 months ago

Text

A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

-----

Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking - possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #staeve #astarion x staeve #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion #regency AU

62 notes · View notes