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muzaktomyears · 3 months ago

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John Lennon and Yoko Ono: his affairs, binges and diet pills

For years the radio host Elliot Mintz was the only person the former Beatle and his wife trusted. Now, he has written a book about his intense relationship with the couple — including what really happened during Lennon’s infamous ‘Lost Weekend’

John Lennon, Yoko Ono and Elliot Mintz outside the Mampei Hotel in Karuizawa, Japan, 1977. Right: Lennon and Ono in 1980

I am holding a pair of glasses. They are antique, made of steel wire and perfectly round. The trademarked name is the Panto 45. This is the 26th pair of John’s glasses I’ve examined on this snowy night in February 1981. It’s been about two months since he was gunned down in New York outside the Dakota, the gothic edifice where he and Yoko Ono had been living since 1973.

I’ve been tasked with the responsibility of inventorying his personal effects so that Yoko, and posterity, would know precisely what he had left behind. I did not want this task. For one thing, I live 2,500 miles from the Dakota, in Los Angeles, where I host a late-night radio interview show. But Yoko asked me to do it, and I have rarely been able to say no to Yoko, let alone John.

I found their idealism infectious and inspiring. Still, as I got to know John and Yoko as flesh-and-blood friends, I began to see their flawed human sides as well.

The trio at a restaurant in Kyoto, 1977

Yoko, for one, was even more airy and ethereal in private than she was in the media. She could be a fountain of aphorisms, dispensing endless nuggets of Zen-like philosophy. Her haiku-esque homilies on manifesting one’s desires or the wisdom of the nonrational mind could be a bit much for some people.

There were moments when even I was a bit baffled by it all. Except then she would say or do something that would absolutely convince me that she was connected to some higher plane.

John, meanwhile, was every bit as charming, funny and intelligent as he came across in public. But I gradually discovered he was far from perfect. For starters, for a guy who aspired to be a world-shaking peacemaker — a thought leader on a par with Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr and Nelson Mandela — he was surprisingly uninformed about historic figures like, well, Gandhi, King and Mandela.

He also had some Luddite-like notions about science, particularly medicine, extending well beyond his annoyance at “daddy doctors” for not letting him perform his own weight-loss injections. Even though John had smoked, ingested or snorted just about every illegal recreational drug he could get his hands on, he was weirdly suspicious of the ones that were properly prescribed and proven efficacious.

Lennon and Ono on The Dick Cavett Show, 1971

John and Yoko could be incredibly sensitive, honest, provocative, caring, creative, generous and wise. They could also be self-centred, desperate, vain, petty and annoying. In John’s case, also shockingly cruel — even to Yoko.

An example…

Early one morning in November 1972, the red ceiling light that would flash whenever my hotline to John and Yoko rang started blinking. I picked up.

“Ellie, I f***ed up,” were the first words out of John’s mouth.

“Why?” I groggily asked. “What did you do?”

“We were at this party last night,” he said, “and I got loaded. And there was a girl…”

I sat up in bed.

The party was at Jerry Rubin’s Greenwich Village apartment. A small crowd of well-connected peaceniks had gathered to watch the presidential election returns on television. As it became clear that Richard Nixon would win re-election by a landslide, the mood grew bleaker and the crowd began drinking more heavily.

Alcohol was not John’s friend and on this occasion, John’s evil inner gremlins truly outdid themselves.

I got some of the specifics from a hungover John during his morning-after call. The upshot was that John had indeed hit it off with some girl at the party and had slipped into a bedroom with her, where they proceeded to have such loud, raucous sex that everyone sitting around the TV in Rubin’s living room — including Yoko — could clearly hear them going at it.

Lennon and Mintz in 1972

At one point, a well-meaning guest put a record on the turntable — Bob Dylan’s 11-minute ballad��Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands — at high volume. Yoko sat on the sofa in stunned, mortified silence.

Whatever they said to each other later, I suspect the conversation was not a pleasant one.

“I slept on the sofa,” John told me, sounding defeated and embarrassed — although, frankly, not quite as contrite as I thought his situation warranted. “Things like that happen,” he said, way too matter-of-factly for my taste. “A bloke cheats on his wife… If I weren’t famous, nobody would care.”

Yoko, unsurprisingly, felt differently.

“Are you OK?” I gently asked her when I phoned to check in on her a few hours later.

“There is no answer to that question,” she said shakily.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“I can forgive him,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened. I don’t know if it will ever be the same.”

After a few weeks of cooling down, though — during which Yoko wrote and recorded Death of Samantha, her bluesy ode to burying one’s pain for the sake of outward appearances — the crisis seemed to abate. John and Yoko chose to roll the cosmic dice with a spectacular gesture of faith and hope in the staying power of their love. They bought an apartment in the Dakota.

“It’s apartment No 72,” Yoko announced when she called to tell me about the purchase. “Do you see the significance?”

Lennon’s 38th birthday party, 1978

When you add seven and two, you get nine, Yoko explained, which was a hugely significant numeral to the Lennons, a magic integer that seemed to mysteriously recur throughout John’s life. Yoko would rattle off the number’s many repeated appearances: John was born on October 9. She was born on February 18 (1 plus 8). Paul McCartney’s last name has nine letters…

I was somewhat mystified as to why they chose this particular neighbourhood. “Aren’t you worried it’ll be too stuffy for you?” I asked John. “Will the people who live there even know who you are?”

“I don’t want them to know who we are,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t want to know who they are. We just want to be left alone.”

The Dakota struck me as one of the most eerily beautiful — and oddly daunting — structures in all of New York. John and Yoko greeted me in the vaulted vestibule, eager to begin our tour, which started on the ground floor with the new headquarters for Studio One, the business entity behind John and Yoko’s creative enterprises. Tellingly, John did not have an office in Studio One; Yoko did.

The main attraction was on the seventh floor. It was nearly 5,000sq ft, with massive windows offering eye-popping views of Central Park. Virtually everything in its expansive living room, from the plush carpeting to the grand Steinway piano, was as white as Japanese snowbells.

Lennon, Ono and Mintz at a Shinto temple in Kyoto. The custom was to hang your horoscope on a line

There was only one highly conspicuous work of art in the White Room: a Plexiglass case on a white pedestal, in which was a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus. John and Yoko had scored the very last mummy allowed out of Egypt before the Egyptian government put a ban on exporting their national antiquities.

“You should x-ray it and see what’s inside,” I suggested. “There might be something of great value, like precious jewels.”

“I don’t care what’s inside,” Yoko responded. “The great value is the magic of the mummy itself.”

Another thing I clearly remember about that long afternoon at the Dakota was how enthusiastic both John and Yoko seemed about the life they were building together in this new nest. John giddily described the “entertainment centre” he wanted to construct in a nook off the kitchen. Yoko, ever the artist, chattered about the endless design ideas she had. It was all too easy to forget about the pain and stress they’d been dealing with. I managed to convince myself that the worst was over for John and Yoko. I was wrong.

There are those who believe Yoko not only approved of the affair but arranged it. That she planted May Pang in the seat next to John on that American Airlines flight from New York to Los Angeles knowing full well what was likely to happen. That their comely 23-year-old assistant would sooner or later end up sleeping with her husband.

It’s possible, I suppose. It could be she saw some strategic long-term advantage in setting up the affair; by handpicking John’s mistress, she might have felt she could exert some dominion over his extramarital wanderings. Perhaps, thanks to her mystical advisers, she really did see that John was heading for a free fall and was endeavouring to soften his inevitable crash.

If any of that is true, though, Yoko never breathed a word of it to me. All she said in October 1973 was that she was sending John and an assistant to LA. Could I please meet them at the airport?

With his assistant and lover, May Pang, 1974

I was by then aware that their marriage was in deep trouble. Despite their best efforts to mend the relationship, the red light on my bedroom ceiling had been blinking even more feverishly than usual leading up to what would later be known as John’s “Lost Weekend”, the 18 months he spent in exile from his wife in New York.

Yoko’s demeanour back then, as always, was not demonstrably emotional but it was clear from our phone conversations that she was in pain. John’s calls were every bit as depressing.

“Has Mother been talking to you about us?” he asked during one early morning chat.

“Yoko talks to me about everything,” I answered vaguely.

“The other day I shaved and got dressed up and told her I wanted to take her to her favourite restaurant and she turned me down,” he lamented. “She said she didn’t have time. Me own f***ing wife said that to me!”

Yoko has always been a methodical person, and my guess is that she precisely and carefully orchestrated John’s eviction from the Dakota. John might not have even realised what was happening to him. He certainly didn’t seem like a man who’d been kicked out of his home when I met him and May Pang at LA airport.

“You look trim, Ellie,” he said with a big grin when I greeted them. “Have you been taking those diet pills again?”

They had very little luggage, suggesting that neither of them was expecting a long stay. My instructions from Yoko were to drive them to music manager Lou Adler’s house in Bel Air, a mini-mansion up on Stone Canyon Road.

“I need some money,” John said as we settled into my weary old Jaguar. “Mother said these could be used for money,” John continued, shoving a fistful of traveller’s cheques in my hand.

The couple outside the Dakota building in New York, 1980. They bought an apartment there in 1973

John was functionally a child when it came to taking care of himself. But then, that was what May was for. Whatever other intentions Yoko may or may not have had for the assistant, her primary job was to make sure John was properly fed and cared for, that all his basic needs — or at least most of them — were satisfied.

John and I spent a lot of time together over the next several weeks. He was also expanding his friendship circle in LA, hanging out with people like Harry Nilsson, the brilliant but notoriously hell-raising singer-songwriter. But after three or four months, much of his initial enthusiasm had boiled off and his mood was starting to curdle. He was missing Yoko: he began asking me when I thought she’d be ready for him to come home. He started spending more and more time with Nilsson, drinking at the Troubadour till all hours. After John famously got thrown out for drunkenly heckling the Smothers Brothers, the late-night shenanigans moved to the Rainbow Bar & Grill on Sunset. That’s where John and Harry and a collection of others — including my old pals Micky Dolenz and Alice Cooper — formed an infamous drinking club known as the Hollywood Vampires.

It would be difficult to exaggerate the level of unbridled indulgences that took place in the Rainbow’s VIP room, a small alcove atop some stairs overlooking the bar. The amount of alcohol imbibed was staggering, to say the least, and there were also small bags of cocaine discreetly passed into the room. Nilsson, a great big bear of a man, could pound down a dozen or so brandy alexanders — a potent mix of brandy and cream, his cocktail of choice, which John soon adopted as his own — in a single sitting.

Not being a celebrity, I was never invited to become a member of the Hollywood Vampires, but I was a welcome visitor and spent many a late night on the edges of their wild, sometimes harrowing saturnalias.

Lennon with his Hollywood Vampires drinking partners, from left, Harry Nilsson, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz, November 1973

There was always a crowd of attractive young women at the bottom of the steps leading to the Vampires’ VIP lair. Frankly, though, by the time the boys descended, usually at closing time, most of them were too wasted to take advantage of the opportunity. I lost count of the number of times I all but carried John down those stairs and poured him into whatever car service I had called to the bar’s car park.

For the most part, I kept my promise to Yoko: I kept John safe. But one night, I realised things were starting to spiral out of my control. Normally, John didn’t put up much of a fight when I helped him down the stairs at the Rainbow Bar but on this occasion, he resisted. He didn’t want to go home.

He pushed away and dived straight into the crowd. It was my worst nightmare: a drunken star lost inside a drunken mob.

Finally, I spotted John with Nilsson at the edge of the car park, the two of them climbing into the back of a black limousine. A moment later, it pulled away into the night, going I had no idea where.

John, I realised with a sinking feeling in my gut, was slipping away.

I was about to walk into the nadir of the Lost Weekend, John’s rock bottom. The call came not on the hotline but my regular house phone, and the voice on the other end identified himself as a security officer working for Phil Spector. John was in trouble: could I please hurry over to Adler’s house and help “calm him down”.

What I saw when I stepped into Adler’s living room some 20 minutes later looked like a scene out of The Exorcist. Drunk and wild-eyed, John was strapped to a high-backed chair, his arms and legs restrained with ropes, which he was struggling against with all his might as he shouted obscenities at his captors, a pair of beefy-armed bodyguards who stood in awkward silence nearby. The place was a shambles. John had torn some of Adler’s framed gold records off the walls and smashed them to pieces. Bits of broken wood and shattered Plexiglass littered the floor.

The couple in Selfridges in London where Ono was signing copies of her book Grapefruit, July 1971

Apparently, the meltdown had started earlier that evening at the studio, where John and Phil had nearly come to blows. What precisely they were arguing about, nobody seemed to remember. But the session ended early with Phil’s guards restraining John and shuttling him to Adler’s house, where John slipped away from them long enough to pick up some sort of walking stick or cane, which he swung wildly around the living room until the guards were able to subdue him.

I slowly stepped up to John, who had stopped shouting. His head hung low on his shoulders, his chest heaving furiously. After a long beat, he slowly lifted his eyes to me. He looked possessed.

“Get these ropes off me!” he erupted. “Get them off me, you…”

And then John spat out an epithet so hurtful and offensive, I can’t bring myself to repeat it.

I looked straight into his eyes, barely containing my disgust and disappointment. He looked back into mine. And that exchange of glances seemed to reach some shred of humanity buried deep in John’s alcohol-addled brain. Suddenly he became very, very quiet.

After a moment or two, I turned to the guards. “I think you can take those ropes off him,” I said. “I think he’s done.”

John stood up, rubbed his wrists and, without another word, slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom, where he must have collapsed on the mattress and passed out.

The next day, as I was getting ready to leave for work, the hotline started flashing.

“Ellie?” John said. “I’m sorry for what I said. But if you think about it, if that’s the worst thing I could say about you, you couldn’t be all that bad, right?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said.

“Well, welcome to the real world, Mother Virgin Mary. I’m me. I have a big mouth and express meself the way I feel when I feel it. I don’t hide behind some microphone. I sing into it or speak into it when it suits me. I’m not always the Imagine guy or the Jealous Guy or the Walrus. So I said I’m sorry to you. That’s all I can do.

Lennon and Ono in 1972

“Do you want to have dinner?”

“No,” I answered. “I think I’m going to take the night off.”

For the first time I can remember, I was the one who hung up the phone.

Obviously, our friendship took a hit after the incident at Adler’s house; how could it not? For the next several months, John and I barely spent time together — at least, not in person. We would talk almost every day on the phone, as we always had, and eventually our rapport began to feel as easy and familiar as ever. But I no longer joined him for evenings at the Troubadour or the Rainbow.

John, meanwhile, had shifted from the mayhem of the Spector sessions to the slightly lesser bedlam of producing a record for his pal Harry Nilsson. The most notable thing about the Pussy Cats sessions was who else was in the room. Ringo Starr sat in on drums. And although it never made it onto Nilsson’s album, another ex-Beatle unexpectedly turned up and even sang with John, the first time the two of them had performed together since the Beatles split.

I wasn’t present but later heard that Paul McCartney and his wife, Linda, had popped in without warning, bringing Stevie Wonder with them. According to those who were there, John and Paul seemed to pick up their friendship as if they were teenagers again, but when John told me about it later, he was kind of dismissive about it, saying, “They were all just looking at us, thinking that something big was going to happen. To me, it was just playing with Paul.”

Lennon with Harry Nilsson, left, outside the Troubadour club in West Hollywood, having just been ejected for heckling a performance by the Smothers Brothers, March 12, 1974

What John didn’t know, though, was that, according to Yoko, Paul had an ulterior motive for the visit. A few days earlier, she had called me to explain the machinations behind the visit.

Yoko told me she spoke with Paul, who offered to speak with John. “I thought it was very kind,” she said. “I was very appreciative. But I made it very clear to Paul that it wasn’t something I was asking him to do. It would have to be Paul’s idea, not mine.”

To me, there was never any question that John desperately wanted to get back with Yoko. Yes, he had feelings for May, yet at some point during virtually every phone call I had with him, John would sooner or later beseech me to talk to Yoko on his behalf. “Tell Mother I’m ready to come home, Ellie. Tell her I’m a changed man.”

“I don’t think she wants to hear it from me,” I would say. “She wants you to show it to her.”

Paul, I later heard, gave John similar advice. Sometime after popping into the studio in Burbank, he sat down with John and laid out, step by step, what he would need to do to win Yoko back.

It’s impossible to say if Paul’s presentation was what did it, or if John experienced some other epiphany around that time, but over the ensuing months he did indeed begin to clean up his act. In the summer of 1974, he started working on his next album, Walls and Bridges, regularly flying to New York for rehearsals and recordings at the Record Plant on West 44th Street. By all accounts, those sessions were entirely professional, with John showing up 100 per cent sober every day.

At the Grammy Awards in New York, March 1, 1975

Then, as work on the album neared completion, John made a fateful decision: he decided not to wait any longer for Yoko’s invitation to return to New York. Instead, towards the end of the summer, he and May rented an apartment of their own on the Upper East Side. It was a small but comfortable place that had a wraparound balcony with spectacular views of the East River.

When I flew to New York to tape some interviews, I took the opportunity to pay them a visit — my first face-to-face meeting with John since the ugliness at Adler’s house. It was an awkward encounter for numerous reasons. For one thing, I had just spent an afternoon with Yoko at the Dakota, some 20 blocks away; taking a cab across town to John and May’s felt something akin to betrayal.

Perhaps sensing my apprehension, May gave me a wide berth, leaving to make some phone calls in a bedroom while John and I stood together on the balcony, catching up.

“Does this make you feel uneasy?” John asked after a beat.

“You mean being here with you and May? Yes, a little,” I admitted. “It just reminds me of the fact that you and Mother are still separated, and that makes me sad.”

“Well, that’s the way Mother wants it,” he said. “At least for now.”

Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm over my shoulders and added, “Don’t look so glum, me boy. Put on your radio face. There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

It was one of the few times he’d quoted a line to me from a Beatles song.

Walls and Bridges was released a month or so later. John sent a prereleased signed copy (“To my little dream lover on ice, with love and old pianos,” he wrote, referring to my affection for Bobby Darin’s hit song).

As it happened, Elton John had joined John on keyboards for one song on the album. Elton made a bet with John. If the song was a hit, John would have to perform at Elton’s upcoming concert at Madison Square Garden. John agreed, never imagining he’d have to honour that promise.

Of course, Elton was spot on: Whatever Gets You Thru the Night did indeed become John’s first No 1 solo single. And so it came to pass that, in November 1974, onstage at Madison Square Garden, in front of thousands and thousands of fans, that the Lost Weekend finally began to fade to a finish.

Lennon’s surprise appearance at Elton John’s concert at Madison Square Garden, November 28, 1974

The details of what exactly transpired backstage that night remain, 50 years later, shrouded in some mystery. What is known is that Yoko, who’d been invited to the concert by Elton’s manager, was in the audience. She couldn’t have been prepared for the reaction around her when Elton announced, about two thirds into the concert, that he was bringing John onto the stage for his first public performance in two years. The crowd went berserk.

After the show, Elton’s manager approached Yoko and told her that Elton had requested her presence in his dressing room. Yoko was led backstage to a door with a star on it. She knocked, the entrance opened, and inside she saw her husband standing there, alone.

I cannot tell you what happened after the dressing room door closed behind them. Nobody but Yoko knows that, and she has never shared with me any details. What I can tell you is that in the weeks and months that followed, there must have been many more rendezvous as Yoko and John re-established their connection, even as he continued living with May in their East Side apartment.

According to one of May’s early accounts, John was ultimately hypnotised into ending his relationship with her; she has long claimed that Yoko hired a mesmerist to help John quit smoking but that it was all a ruse to brainwash him into splitting up with her so he could return to Yoko. To this day, many people believe that story. But I know for certain that it wasn’t true. Because, as it happens, I’m the one who arranged the hypnotist.

Yoko had nothing to do with it.

John had remembered that I had interviewed a hypnotist on my radio show and asked me if he might be able to help him kick nicotine.

At the Lincoln Center in New York, circa 1975

I called the hypnotist, planned for him to fly to New York, booked him a room in a Midtown hotel, and set up an appointment with John. In just about every respect, though, the hypnosis was a total bust. John told me immediately afterwards he was never put under; the hypnotist claimed John was but just couldn’t remember. The hypnotist also turned out to be something of a diva. He disliked his hotel — he thought the desk clerks were rude — and checked out the next day, flying back to LA in a huff.

John didn’t quit smoking, not for a minute, so it’s hard to imagine the hypnotist had succeeded in brainwashing him into anything else — like, say, leaving a lover. But the very next day, John did break it off with May and returned to the Dakota, resuming his marriage to Yoko and ending, at last, the long and lonely winter that had been the Lost Weekend. He called me in LA shortly afterwards to share the happy news.

He said, “Let the media know the separation did not work.”

‘He’d weigh himself twice a day’

Elliot Mintz on his friendship with John and Yoko. By Georgina Roberts

When a red light in Elliot Mintz’s bedroom flashed, it meant that John Lennon or Yoko Ono was calling him on a special hotline. “In an average week, 20 hours of phone conversation would not be unusual,” the 79-year-old former radio DJ and talk-show host says from his Beverly Hills living room.

Mintz describes the friendship with the couple that “dominated” nine years of his life as “almost a kind of marriage”. He was taken aback when Ono called him in 1971 to thank him for not asking about Lennon when he interviewed her on his radio show. When they began to speak for hours at night, she batted away his concern that her husband might get jealous, saying, “Aren’t you giving yourself a little too much credit, Elliot?”

Lennon first called Mintz to ask if he could get him fat-melting pills. “That was my first conversation with John Lennon. It wasn’t philosophical. It wasn’t about Elvis or the Beatles. It was about weight loss,” he says. Sometimes Lennon would weigh himself twice a day and the couple “were obsessive about diet”.

In Hotel Okura in Tokyo, October 1975

After six months of speaking, the couple summoned him to meet them in Ojai, California, where they were trying to kick a methadone addiction. Ono barely spoke until she was in a bathroom with the tap running. “She whispered to me, ‘This house is bugged. Everything we say here, they’re listening. So you have to be very careful what you say.’ ” FBI files released years later showed that Ono wasn’t being paranoid. President Nixon had placed the couple under surveillance after rumours they planned to disrupt his convention, Mintz says.

His clandestine friendship with the couple wreaked havoc on his love life. When he couldn’t explain whom he’d been speaking to in the middle of the night, one love interest assumed he was married and stormed out. “I realised at that moment that my love life would have to take a back seat to my relationship with John and Yoko,” he says.

There were times when lines were crossed in the friendship. One morning, Lennon summoned Mintz to kick out a girl who’d stayed the night. “I told him, ‘Please don’t ask me to do something like that again.’ He flipped out. He said, ‘I will effing ask you to do anything that I feel like asking you to do. Do you understand that?’ ” Mintz was hurt and offended. The next day was one of the few times he said no to “grabbing a bite” with Lennon.

Becoming parents was “the biggest game-changer” for the couple. After his son Sean was delivered via caesarean section in 1975, “John was outraged that when Yoko was clearly struggling, doctors would come up to him and say, ‘I’ve always dreamt of shaking your hand.’ He would bark at them, ‘Look after me wife!’ ”

While Lennon threw himself into childcare, Ono, who came from a banking dynasty, handled the couple’s finances. After becoming stratospherically famous so young, Lennon was “clueless” about money. “I doubt if John was ever in a supermarket, went to a bank, wrote a cheque. That’s what Yoko did,” Mintz says. “If not for Yoko, there’d be no money in the Lennon-Ono estate today.”

A drawing by Lennon on a postcard from Japan sent to Mintz in 1977

The first time Mintz met their son, Lennon said protectively, “Not too close. Germs.” “He said, ‘Look, we were going to make you the godfather, but we decided on Elton, because he would at least give him better Christmas presents.’ ” “This is typical John,” Mintz says.

Sean would only spend five years with his father before Lennon was murdered outside the Dakota in December 1980. Lennon had always “poo-pooed” Mintz’s requests for him to employ more security. “John said, ‘I’m just a rock’n’roll singer. Who would want to hurt me?’ ”

When Mintz speaks about learning of Lennon’s murder from a weeping flight attendant, his honeyed radio-presenter voice cracks with emotion. “Even now, after all these years, just thinking about that moment…” He trails off. The most gut-wrenching of his responsibilities was making an inventory of Lennon’s possessions. When he signed for a stapled brown paper bag that came from the hospital where Lennon was taken after he was shot, he could not bear to open it. “It was what John was wearing, what he had on him when he fell, including his broken, bloodied glasses.”

He is reticent about his friendship with Ono today. “I want to give her a sense of privacy,” he says, but adds, “It still feels like family. I still love her dearly.” The last time he saw her was at her 91st birthday in February. It was there that Sean encouraged Mintz to write his book, We All Shine On. Does he think Ono will like it? “I’ve never tried to predict a Yoko Ono conclusion.”

How different would his life be if he had never met the couple? “I could have got married. Could have had children.” Were the sacrifices worth it? “Of course. I got to spend that amount of my time with these two extraordinary people.”

We All Shine On: John, Yoko, & Me by Elliot Mintz (Bantam, £25).

(source)

#john lennon #yoko ono #elliot mintz

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thesirencult · 1 year ago

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YOU NEED PEOPLE LIKE ME / DARK PSYCHOLOGY

You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your f*****’ fingers and say, “That’s the bad guy.” So what that make you? Good? You’re not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie.

(Tony Montana, Scarface)

Most people can not handle their darker side. They can not handle their ego and their deepest desires. Now, I'm not telling you to become like Tony Montana. He was consumed by his vices and they run the show for him. I'm telling you to do what you what to do and to stop lying to yourself and hiding from your true nature.

A couple of years ago, I met a girl who had an obsession with finding a wealthy man. She did not care about anything else other than the money. In her defense, she grew up in a poor family where, her dad beat her mom up and he even did that while her mom was pregnant with her.

That girl was studying finance. She took up Arabic and wanted to work for off shore companies where she could find a husband. She specifically told me she wanted her husband to drive a Porsche which has more prestige than a BMW and buy her a BMW cause the woman should be beneath her husband. Overall she was "micey" in character. If you didn't know her you would think she was shy and religious, but. you should know better guys, these people have more ego problems than the most outspoken, egomaniac extrovert.

So, she looked "weak" but had an agenda. She also was trying to give off the "trad wife" vibe but salivated as soon as a man breathed her direction and shamed any woman who showcased her seductiveness.

A few days ago, she messaged me. She wanted to grab a coffee with me as she would be in town. I was surprised when I saw her. In the "kindest" way I can put it, she looked like women who run on every single rally around and fight for justice (nothing wrong with taht, but if you're following me I bet you get what I'm trying to convey). A white girl with Bob Marley braids! Yup, there it is!

She told me she had given up Arabic and no longer wanted to work in a big shipping corporation because that supported big oil and their agenda. She then preached to me about equality and why the left is supreme. Now, I'm pretty straightforward so I asked her, how and why her views changed. She wanted to own 3 cars and be a stay at home mom! She looked outside the window of the coffee shop and saw my parked car.

"Do you see this car?"

I said "Yeah, I see it."

"Whoever drives this car is a right wing egomaniac who doesn't care about the environment and just wants to flaunt their money." (my car is a hybrid you guys!)

"Do you drive?"

"No, I can not afford a license and my family owns only one car. Also, I'm scared of driving. Also, did I tell you I'm running on the elections with the *left wing side*. Will you vote for me? If I make it I'll get 2k per month plus health care benefits."

"That's my car. I was going to ask you, do you want to take the train home or will you ride with me?" I just wanted this meeting to bo over, to tell you the truth.

She came with me.

Wanna know why? Here is my hypothesis (and it ties in with Tony Montana's words):

99% of people give up on their dreams by age 23. In order to make it easier for them and help them soothe the guilt this breeds, they begin to drift to the opposite "side" of the court. Pornstars turn to trad wives. Playboys turn to "faithful" husbands who preach the word of the Lord. Money and power hungry individuals take up boring jobs and blame the rich and the goverment for everything. Men who can not pick up women turn to red pill guys and so on and so forth.

Most people can not handle their darker side. They can not handle their ego and their deepest desires. Now, I'm not telling you to become like Tony Montana, he was consumed by his vices and that's who runs the show. Either you run the show or someone else or something (an addiction) runs it for you.

We see all that often with sex. Body counts, "I can not find a good man/woman" etc. People who can not get what they want hate those that have the GUTS to get it.

If my acquaintance's beliefs are that strong why did she enjoy the drive in the luxury SUV? Why did she then ask me when are we going out again and if I can bring "that" guy friend who runs a tech start up?

Because they are not her beliefs. They are just a cover up. A mask.

We've all seen how happy some people get when a dreamer fails.

So, go one. Fail. You''ll succeed at some point. You're better than those who sit on the sidelines running their mouth.

They would want to be at your shoes. They would want to run free on the court.

Own that. Own yourself and run after your goals and desires. Fuck them.

#level up journey #self education #seduction #self love #philosophy #psychology #dark psychology #48 laws of power #robert greene #dark femininity #dark feminine aesthetic #dark feminine energy #femme fatale #personal growth #source: thesirencult #source:thesirencult

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sweetdispatch · 1 month ago

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wowowow 🫦 #8 & #13 with john marino ??? it’s a travesty not enough people write for him

right? johnny deserves more love and i'm willing to do it haha

prompt list

You and John have a good sex life but you always wanted to spice things up. John was careful with you, always worshiping your body but once in a blue moon, you needed his rough side. You were too scared to admit this to him, so you kept it quiet. You didn’t want to ruin what’s between you, not knowing if he’s even into it.

You two were celebrating your anniversary. It was a chilly summer night and both of you got pretty drunk. You were currently drinking your second bottle of wine when John was sipping his beer. He knew how easily you get drunk and wanted to take care of you later. Both of you came back home and he helped you to take off your hoodie.

“Fuck me Johnny. Use me however you want. I want to be at your mercy”. You said and started kissing him. He kissed you back and grabbed your hips so you could stay. You started to pull his shirt when he stopped you.

“It’s so hot when you talk like that, but baby you’re drunk. I’m not gonna fuck you now”. The image of you laying naked in bed and ready to be fucked by him was tempting, but he needed you aware of what’s happening.

“I don’t care. Bend me over and fuck me like a cheap whore. Please”. You begged him. It was hard for him to say no but he didn’t wanted to fuck you in this state.

“As soon as we’re both sober, we can do every little dirty thing you ever dreamed of”. He kissed you and dragged you to the bathroom to help you take off your makeup and get changed.

The next morning, you woke up but John wasn’t next to you. You went out and saw him making breakfast.

“Ugh, tell me to never drink again”. You said and sat on the chair. He gave you pills and water so you could get rid of your headache.

“Do you remember anything from last night? More specifically when we get back home?” He asked.

“Um no, why? What did I do?” You were scared to hear his answer.

“You asked me to fuck you like a cheap whore and use you”. He laughed and your face turned red.

“Oh no, that’s so embarrassing”. You hide your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry”.

“Don’t be…” John took a pause before he continued. “If this is what you really want, we can make it happen”.

“Really? You are not mad about it?” You were surprised.

“Baby, I wanted to do it for a long time but didn’t want to hurt you”. He admitted.

“I guess we have plans for the rest of the day”. You stood up and kissed him passionately.

---

tag list: @hodgepodge-musings

#john marino x reader #v' prompt list work

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langernameohnebedeutung · 2 years ago

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Am I the only one who is a little concerned about this obsession with 'body counts' lately?

I know it's easy to say 'well it isn't a re-emergence of any sort, culture has always been obsessed with women being 'pure' and 'chaste' - and we are here in the process of stamping it out! Look how far we've come since 1970s/1950s/1920s/19th century/whatever.' or 'it's just your usual incels balking against change'

And yes! you are right! And I don't have statistics or anything! - But something that alerts me is that we're no longer talking about religious or conservative contexts or specifically misogynistic circles or older people. It is a mainstream discussion and people talk about how you should ask girls for their 'body count' on the first date and if she 'doesn't answer she's for the street' and 'whatever number she says, add x%." - and is really young people regurgitating it - even young girls.

Another hint for me that this is a re-emergence and not just some remnant or something passed own from previous generations is language. I've seen quite a few tiktoks and and insta-reels by non-English speaking teens and early tweens who used the specific English word 'body count' to talk about this - something they wouldn't do if they had gotten this from their parents or grandparents or if it were an organical idea they had come up with on their own. It must have been inspired by other users who produce similar content - and these users were likely inspired by others and so forth. And as someone in her late 20s, I've never heard it used in my social circle and it was never really a big issue for any of us once we got out of puberty.

Personally, I've expected the cultural pendulum to swing back on sex positivity and the deconstruction of virginity for a while now, but I think it is important that a lot of these terms (not just the 'body count' thing) aren't your classic 'the mainstream is afraid of change' kind of backlash. A lot of this talk is coming directly from the red pill manosphere and is strategically being normalised among the youth - and because misogyny is still treated as some 'normal cultural thing' in many contexts, it is something that most young people aren't prepared for and aren't taught to contextualise and cannot identify as rooted in hate.

The obsession with virginity is one of the oldest forms of subjugation because it's so disconnected from any kind of physical reality or moral action. The moment this kind of rhetoric is given any power, any woman can be the most altruistic, morally upstanding, generous best person to ever have walked the earth - but with this tool, you can still ruin her. (The same way that a man can be the most moral upstanding, generous best person to walk the earth and then get mocked for being 'an adult virgin' or something). That's how/why this rhetoric survived for millennia in societies whose entire structure was based on denying women permanent social status - because anyone can do it! You don't need to understand anything to call a woman a slut - you can be the dumbest idiot in your village and still call a professor of quantum-physics a slut if you don't like her (or not do it, if you like her! That is what power is!). You don't need to understand anything about her policies or success-rate to slutshame a politician. You don't need to know her as a person. You don't need to have listened to a single speech of hers or anything.

That's why it always worked so well. Because it allows anyone to mistreat a woman based on nothing to do with her personal convictions, thoughts, or actions. Because anyone can invent and adapt their own standards of when a woman's 'body count' is too high (even: not high enough!) - and even if she's a virgin, you can still say she 'well, look how she dresses' or 'she wears make-up' - or just say she is lying. Because it is absolutely unprovable - that's also a tale as old as time: the moment you start ascribing any value to how much sex a woman has or has had, you can go all medieval and make up the wildest claims and they are given relevance from the power you gave that claim.

And whether it has been used against individual women or against entire cells and movements of women carving out some independence for themselves and detaching themselves or even changing the societies they had no power in, the strengthening of 'purity' rhetoric was a very common response to this because it was a way of denigrating these women without actually being forced to engage with their arguments.

I actually feel a little stupid laying out something that has been said so much more eloquently and in so much more detail on many other occasions by other people and that has been much more thoroughly analysed, but I'm actually worried that because of the sexual liberation of the last one hundred years, we might become blind to how dangerous this kind of rhetoric is for women and how ingrained it is into our culture structurally. But I am really worried watching this - especially bc a lot of similar and related rhetoric: That's not something that has been passed down to these kids from their parents and grandparents or...priest or whatever:

This is incel and MGTOW rhetoric being normalised as memes and jokes. And I see the argument of 'well, if we treat it as a joke and make fun of these dudes, then we're taking power from it'. But these last few years, I've seen so many things start out as jokes - some harmless, some not - that are now being taken 100% serious by a lot of people out there. And virginity-rhetoric is something that is still being taken seriously around the globe by billions of people, so it's not something that will treated as a conspiracy weirdo hocuspocus - but something that is falling on very fertile soil.

#so yeah. I don't think this is good.#personal #feminism

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years ago

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The Kind that Never Slows Down | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 10k

✦ summary — Gotham is hit with a spell that changes your perception of Damian forever.

✦ warnings — nsfw, semi-public sex, non-con sex (not really but just to be safe), angst, language, light jealousy, light possessiveness, mentions of food, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), consensual sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, fluff.

✦ author's note — this one should’ve been published a long time ago, but I just got around editing it. Hope you like it.

════════════════════════

The abandoned building smelled like piss and mold, the only light available entered through a broken window, and you were pretty sure you had heard rats roaming around.

But you didn’t care. Robin’s hands were all over you, plump lips sucking on your neck like his life depended on it as he pounded into you.

It wasn’t enough.

He had skipped foreplay on your insistence. You needed him more than anything, if he didn’t fuck you right there in that moment you wouldn’t be able to survive.

He grunted out of pleasure as you clenched around him, gripping your hips to ground himself as he picked up his already relentless pace.

It still wasn’t enough.

Having his cum down your thighs and marks over your neck from his kisses wasn’t enough either. Your body craved all of him, including his whining and abrasive words.

Noise outside prompted him to part from you completely. Both of you fixed yourselves as best as you could in silence, avoiding looking at the other.

You followed him outside with a sense of guilt hovering over you like a dark cloud. You felt like you had just gotten out of a trance after committing the worst of the crimes.

Nightwing stopped you by yelling, “Where were you? I looked for you two everywhere.”

“We were looking for you,” Robin lied smoothly.

Nightwing’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “Well, Zatana undid the spell.”

Suddenly Damian’s urgent voice as he said he needed you made all the sense in the world. His need for you and your need for him had been magic-induced.

Of course it had been! You two were mere acquaintances who fought all the time for the most minimal things in the world or ignored the other to the point of making people around you uncomfortable. It was a surprise that you worked well together at night.

“A lust spell, right?”

“Well, no,” Nightwing chuckled. “According to her, the spell showed people what their heart desires the most.”

Robin stiffened beside you, and you felt every drop of blood drain from your face and fall to your feet.

“Did you hear a lot of people having sex?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Tons of them.”

The moment you got home, you ripped your suit off and walked into the shower. You washed his cum off you, scrubbing your body twice just to make sure.

Wishing the soap could erase the marks on your neck and the memory of the way he had moaned your name, you decided to take a pill to sleep.

You hadn’t needed one of those in months, but Damian was that special. Or annoying.

God, you hated him and his stupid ego. He would surely find funny the lengths you would have to go to put this in the past.

He loved being the center of attention as much as he hated you, that was why you always tried your best to avoid him. When you didn’t avoid him, he made weird faces at you and scoffed every time you laughed.

Turning the lamp off, you hoped for the best.

Meanwhile, Damian ignored Dick’s inquiries. Why did his brother care if he was extremely quiet or if he looked like he was about to explode?

Your scent was all over him, still bewitching him, overpowering his sweat and the smell of everybody around him.

Looking down at his hands, the gloved palms that had hours before gripped and traced as much of your body as your suit had allowed him to, Damian clenched his jaw.

How could he have been so stupid? There was no other reason for you to beg him to fuck you the way you had — magic! He fucking hated magic.

But Dick’s explanation... that was worse. More stupid. He hated it too. His brother had to be wrong.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone from his family was wrong regarding magic, and Zatanna while an expert had her own biases.

Besides, his heart could have been desiring to get off the most just like yours. The two of you were busy people after all.

“Did the spell show you anything, Dami?”

The prettiest face he had seen in his entire life. “A pet demon.”

He regretted the lie the moment he said it. Damian wished a lot of things could be different. His mother would be furious if she knew how sentimental he was becoming, if she found out how often he gave into wishful thinking.

For once, he wanted to be open. But as always something was stopping him. Sometimes he wondered if he had been born to be like that or if his grandfather had simply lied.

Leaving the cave the moment he was dismissed, he trotted upstairs almost praying Dick wouldn’t follow him.

He couldn’t stop replaying the way you clung to him, or the harshness of your kiss. It had felt real, and too perfect to be happening to him all at once.

But you hated him, everybody and their mother knew that.

════════════════════════

Barbara had never been subtle around you. There had never been a need for such a thing — she was like the older sister you never had, you two carried the other’s secrets and burdens.

Back when you met her, barely as a teen, she provided a safe place you only had ever dreamt of having. You vowed to give it all back; she deserved it.

“What’s up with the turtleneck?” She asked, unsubtly so with her bright eyes on your neck.

“I have a cold,” you feigned a rasp. Perhaps this secret wouldn’t be shared.

“Mmmh. Really?” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Dick said Damian was feeling under the weather too.”

Yup. Definitely not sharing. It would be embarrassing. She had always had the theory that you were in love with Damian just because you complained about him on a weekly basis.

It was like she had never met him.

In a way, the theory was correct. But it lacked a lot of details — a spell had confirmed it from all things. It sounded ironic, quite suitable to your situation.

“Flu season, I guess.”

It was a bad lie. Everybody knew when flu season arrived because Tim started getting a stuffy nose and limiting his consumption of Red Bull in order to drink more water.

”Did the spell from the other night show you anything?”

You faked a cough, shaking your head. “I was busy on patrol.”

“I was too and I saw Dick.”

“That’s just wishful thinking, Babs. It’s cute, though.”

Her not seeing Dick would have surprised you. They had known each other for years, gone through so much together... most people wanted what they had.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re lying to me?”

You wrapped your fingers around your mug. The heat transferring from the ceramic to your palm reminded you of Damian’s breath on your lips.

Taking a gulp of coffee, you blinked rapidly. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

She rolled her eyes. “Everybody saw something. It’s how those spells work.”

“There must be something wrong with me.”

There really had to be something awfully wrong with you. Saying out loud that you wanted Damian more than anything in the world terrified you.

It was a normal thing. Not wanting him specifically, but wanting someone — everybody craved attention and love at some level, you just happened to crave Damian’s at every single one.

He was the problem, not you.

════════════════════════

Movie marathons weren’t something Damian really cared for, but they were better than hearing his father complain about minor things like if he had ruined a goon’s lungs or whatever.

Alfred called it bonding time which he supposed was a fair assessment. He found Tim’s taste in movies quite good, and now he didn’t get the urge to strangle his slightly older brother in his sleep.

His stepmother was there too. Selina had been the reason why Bruce shifted his ways, she urged him to either find a balance or stop adding people to the team.

Duke made him pass a bowl of popcorn to Tim who did the same to Stephanie. The bowl landed on Dick who was on the row behind them, just next to Jason.

Getting more comfortable on his seat, his eyes fell on the empty spot to Duke’s right. Cassandra used to sit there until one afternoon Duke couldn’t seem to shut up and she asked you to switch places. You always went with the things Duke said, sometimes even asked his opinion.

Damian complained once, telling his sister to suck it up next time. But Cassandra would never do something he told her to, that was perhaps why she was his favorite.

Everyone around him was in an amazing mood which he didn’t understand. Bruce had just tried to tell a joke, and Jason was mocking how dumb it was.

Selina laughed loudly, in that way people did when they felt genuinely happy. At least that was what he supposed; Damian wasn’t sure he had ever experienced happiness.

The sound of an approaching wheelchair made his ears perk up. Not a single pair of shoes could be heard against the floor. Fighting a frown, he turned to look at the door.

Barbara waved at all of them with a smile, maneuvering her wheelchair to sit next to Dick’s seat. Craning his neck with the excuse of saying hi, Damian watched her give Dick a chaste kiss.

“Where’s (Nickname)?” Dick asked, lifting his arm to rest it on the back of Barbara’s chair.

“She said she was feeling sick. Although...” Barbara giggled, leaning onto Dick’s arm. “I heard the voice of a guy in the background so she might have company.”

Damian felt sick upon hearing such a thing. First, you had asked to be paired up with Duke for patrol and now this? It was too much even for your pettiness — granted, he had planned on putting more distance between you two, but he hadn’t gone around trying to find someone to erase you.

The thought never crossed him, not for a single moment. He had wondered why he wished to cling to a memory when he had never been the sentimental type, but he realized that to be the entire point of deep desires.

“Well, it’s time,” Stephanie commented, “she’s been single for too long.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to scare him off,” Selina added.

Damian stood up from the now uncomfortable seat, forcing Duke to do the same so he could leave. Duke stared at him weirdly, with worry, as if he knew something Damian didn’t want him to.

He probably did. Damian had been careless two times in a row. God, he needed to get a fucking grip. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the neck of his sweater.

“Oi,” Jason called for him, “where are you going?”

“Out,” he answered angrily. “If other... members... may skip this, why can’t I?”

Barbara and Dick shared a sideways glance.

Only telling Alfred that he would be back later, Damian followed the path towards the garage. Skipping his bike for once, finding himself thinking he wanted to take as little shortcuts as possible for whatever reason, he took his car.

Damian had always been a fan of driving. He didn’t know why, it was tedious and didn’t serve many purposes in the grand scheme of things; not to him. Ever since he learned, he took every opportunity he got to drive whichever vehicle he could get his hands on.

Having control over vehicles and machines was nice, he supposed. If people were a little bit more like said things, everything would have been easier. The world would be boring, but easier to habit.

Saving people was easy, caring about them from afar gave him enough human interaction for his standards, but he would never understand them.

And for the first time since he tried to decode his mother’s attitude, he wanted to understand someone more than anything. Perhaps that way said someone would understand him back and untangle this mess.

The building before him wasn’t welcoming. He had never put foot into that place, but he knew every single person that lived there — patrol gave him that kind of knowledge. And he did some research months ago, but no one needed to be aware of such thing.

He pressed his ear to the door he had been looking for. The dishwasher was on, but he couldn’t pick up any other sound. Damian knocked on said door three times, quickly and loudly. There was no answer so he did it again. A door slammed shut inside the apartment, a groan accompanied by a string of curses got clearer as stomps approached him.

Standing tall and straight, he felt a thrill down his spine as the lock was loudly fiddled with.

You swung the door open, rubbing your eye. He observed you had thrown a turtleneck on, upside down. Damian walked past you without invitation, analyzing the living room.

There were no clothes scattered all over the floor like he had imagined he would find.

“What are you doing here?”

He ignored you, exploring the kitchen. Damian opened the fridge, narrowing his eyes as he inspected. He did the same with the cupboards.

Shoving your bedroom door open, he found the bed undone. The TV was on, playing an old movie. He heard your steps as you followed him, repeating your question.

“Is someone from the team in danger?” You asked next.

Damian pulled your closet open, tilting his head. You could’ve been more organized, he admitted to himself, but there was nothing unusual.

Craning his neck to look at you, he inquired, “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?! What’s going on?”

He stared at you, waiting for you to crack. To his surprise, you stared back — defiant, blinking less and less as the seconds passed.

You were mad, he could tell. It only made him grow more suspicious. Tensing under your eyes, sharp instead of soft like they usually were, he scoffed; he couldn’t show he cared.

“Dude,” you insisted, “you are scaring me. What happened?”

Shaking his head, he pushed past you again and continued his search. The bathroom was warm, the mirror fogged up and tiles sprinkled with drops of water.

He turned around, watching you again. Well, your hair was wet now that he paid more attention to it...

Damian checked in the small laundry room too, but he found bottles of detergent and folded towels next to your suit. Nothing else. No one else.

“Damian—“

“Shut up.” He pointed at you with a finger.

“You are the one who came to my place to look for whatever or whoever you are searching for! Unprompted!”

He didn’t answer.

You went back to your bedroom to turn the TV off and pause the movie, resigned to the fact that he had ruined your self-care day.

No one knew you would be home that day. You had ignored everybody’s calls and avoided being active on social media just in case they were stalking you. Turns out the utmost secrecy isn’t enough to avoid Damian Wayne.

He stood in the living room, looking down at the coffee table as if expecting the furniture to turn into something else. Fixing his eyes on the centerpiece he knew Dick had given you as a gift because it reminded him of you, Damian furrowed his brows.

“Have you been alone the entire day?” He asked, feeling your presence behind him.

“My neighbor brought some cake. Other than that, yeah.”

“Barbara said you had... company.”

“I haven’t talked to Babs in days.”

Barbara had continued asking about what you saw that night with the spell, and you weren’t willing to say it still. Weeks had passed, but it felt like mere seconds had at times. It was so easy for her to ask, to assume things.

Only you knew the conflict you were feeling. She would never understand how awful it was to find out the one you desire the most is the one who likes you the least.

You had entertained the naive idea that he was in the same position, but the more you replayed what had happened, the more you convinced yourself it had been one-sided. He gave in because the release was pleasant, nothing else. People say things they don’t mean while having sex.

You had done it before, for fuck’s sake. You had faked having a good time before, who was to say Damian hadn’t done the same with you?

“Have you seen anybody else?” He blurted.

“My neighbor, I told you.”

He reformulated, “Have you had sex with anybody else?”

You considered lying, you really did. It would make the tension go away, you would have to see him around with other people but it would save you from a lot of embarrassment.

A part of you told you it was stupid, that you wouldn’t be able to take it. Much less when the people who usually took some interest in you tended to ghost you for whatever reason.

“Not since that night, if that’s what you’re asking,” you admitted.

“Good.” It slipped, but he didn’t care. He meant it, and it felt nice to say things he meant, no matter how harsh they could sound.

You rounded the room, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. “Why are you here?”

“I was told you had company,” he repeated himself.

“And your logic was to interrupt me?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t believe him. Did he want you to be alone and miserable your entire life?

The worst part was that you would probably be. Finding out you liked him, that you wanted to have him around, that you craved his attention, and his touch, rocked your world and shattered it.

Who would ever compare to him? His flaws were other people’s better qualities, even you who didn’t know his good side that well was aware of that.

“Do you really hate me that much? I’ve never done anything to you!”

He finally lifted his head. You wished he hadn’t, you wished you didn’t have to see anything other than anger in his handsome features. “I don’t hate you. I would make your life a living hell if I did.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” you chuckled, way more sadly than you thought yourself capable to feel regarding anything that came from him. “You roll your eyes at me every time I visit your house, Damian.”

“It’s not intended at you.”

“The scoffs sure are,” you reproached him, “and your stupid comments of how unfunny anything that makes me laugh is.”

“It’s not because of you,” he shouted. Shaking his head, vexed, he twisted his mouth as he huffed his anger out through his nose. “Cassandra’s jokes aren’t even that funny.”

“See?”

“Why don’t you laugh at mine?” He reproached now, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Why is it always one of my siblings or my friends who get a positive response but not me?”

“Oh, come on! You’re saying that like I didn’t come by hearing you say my name a few weeks ago!” Your words stunned him into silence which you used to your advantage. “You never tell jokes in front of me, how am I supposed to laugh at them? I always feel like shit because you only accept being around me on patrol, you entrench yourself in your room and make a point to slam the door shut just so I hear... you know what? Forget it.”

“I hate seeing you with them,” he said, wishing his words hadn’t carried that much emotion. “I always bribe people to not ask you out or to leave you alone, I have to watch you hug Jon and kiss my siblings’ faces. You’re always so damn nice until I appear... I prefer being alone than enduring your indifference.”

You widened your eyes. “You bribe people to not ask me out?!”

“Is that the only upsetting part from everything I said?” he snapped.

“No, no. Of course not. I just...”

He hummed. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“A waste of money, honestly.”

“If I didn’t, you would be with someone else right now. Probably Duke, you’ve always liked him.”

“You bribed Duke?” You let a small laugh out. “Duke? Our Duke?”

“Yes! Stop mocking me.”

“Duke knows everything, you know?” You admitted, uncrossing your arms.

You hadn’t been able to keep things to yourself for that long. Seeing Damian around suddenly hurt. The feeling had always been there, but finding out that he was your heart’s deepest desire wrecked your perception

When you told Duke, he reacted casually, as if you had told him the most obvious thing in the world. He said you and Damian were the only ones who hadn’t seen it.

“He knew certain things before I did, in fact,” you added. “Besides, I see him as a brother and he sees me as a sister.”

Damian nodded. It made sense, now Duke’s attitude seemed normal in comparison to what Damian had assumed.

He always assumed things. Bruce had told him once that he needed to learn to ask before acting out — this was the first time Damian found his father’s words useful.

“Why did you kiss me that night?”

“I believe it was more than kissing.”

“Yes.” Damian hadn’t been able to forget, he never would. “But why?”

“I felt... I don’t know how to explain it,” you confessed.

The room suddenly felt small, extremely hot. You shed the stupid turtleneck, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the stubborn marks on your neck.

Make-up had hidden them well for a few days, and most of them had faded already, but there were two bite-marks, too big and deep, that needed more healing time.

“I was scared,” you told him, “that’s why I felt the rush to take your hand. And it was enough for a while, but then it wasn’t, I wanted you closer.”

“I couldn’t breathe. I assumed I was being poisoned. Then you took my hand and I panicked for a moment, I thought...” his voice broke.

You gave him time, trying your hardest to hide how surprised you were by hearing him like that.

“I thought you were having the same symptoms,” he rasped. “I’ve been trained to fight those things off, but you haven’t and I knew you would die. Your hand made it better for a few minutes, then I needed you closer too.”

“We can forget about it if you want,” you assured him, avoiding looking at his face in case your comment relieved him.

“I don’t.”

Damian reached for your hand in the same fashion you had that cursed —literally— night, shakily, urgently.

And in the same fashion he had, you allowed him to take it.

He brought you closer to him. You observed he looked more tired than ever, perhaps because things had been tense for the past weeks. You couldn’t have possibly looked too different.

“The spell doesn’t have to dictate this,” he said, tilting his head to look into your eyes. “It won’t. You know I don’t trust magic.”

“The spell is not the problem,” you whispered.

“I didn’t think there was a problem.”

“We have never spent time together outside of patrol, Damian.”

He sighed, nodding. “Get changed. Let’s go out.”

Only a lunatic would give their self-care day up for a guy. Well, you didn’t really care if people thought you were a lunatic, and Damian wasn’t just a guy — still, giving up the ice cream in your fridge was a sin.

A sin you were happy to commit.

Damian waited for you to get changed, patiently if anyone asked you. It had taken you a few minutes to even choose something appropriate, based on his own outfit because that was just logic.

He slipped his cellphone into his pocket while you locked the door. As you turned around to take off, he offered his hand.

You took it, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked down the hallway. In the middle of the stairway, you bumped into one of your neighbors who smiled sweetly at both of you. To your surprise, Damian smiled back.

Also surprised to discover he hadn’t taken his bike, you bowed as a thank you when he opened the door of his car for you.

“Do you want to put some music on?” he offered.

“You pick,” you said, curious as to what he would play.

You could’ve sworn he was nervous as he stared down at his phone, looking for something to play. He scrolled down, then up — he switched apps, then continued scrolling.

“I’m not picky.” Your tone was soft, an attempt to assure him.

“I don’t really listen to a variety of genres.”

“What do you listen to the most?”

“Classical. My mother got me used to it.”

You rested the side of your head on the backrest of the seat, looking at him. “You can play that if you want. Or we can just talk about the weather and whatnot. I think it might rain tonight. You like rain, right?”

He locked his cellphone, turning to face you. “Yes. It calms me.”

“I hated it as a kid,” you disclosed, hoping it would ease the tension and better his mood. “I was scared of thunderstorms.”

Igniting the engine, he prompted you to continue, “Not anymore?”

“No. My mom used to tell me that the only reason why they were so noisy was that the sky was happy to unwind and eventually I believed it.”

“That’s cute.”

“I had a phase in which I was in a bad mood if it didn’t rain.” You laughed at your own comment. “Now I like it just fine, less obsessively.”

“I had a similar fixation with snow.” He laughed too, and your stomach did somersaults — it was the first time you had heard him laugh genuinely.

Damian didn’t talk about life at The League often, he didn’t feel compelled when he knew the preconceptions that came with simply mentioning the place or his maternal family.

In fact, everything Batman Inc.’s members knew had been from Bruce. He liked the secrecy, those were parts of him and no one else. But he was willing to share tiny pieces with you.

He saw it as something supposed to be shared between two people interested in starting a relationship.

So he continued, “I would only climb mountains if they were covered by snow. My mother called me a brat many times, but she gave into my wishes for a while.”

“How did you grow out of it?”

“I broke my elbow.” He briefly looked to the side and then took a turn. “I proved her right, and I didn’t like not having the last word so I started despising the snow. I don’t mind it now.”

Before you could ask anything else, he pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot.

He picked a basket once inside the store, making a motion for you to follow him.

“What are we buying?”

“Fruit and whatever you want for a picnic.”

Realizing you weren’t near the fruits aisle, you gripped his sweater, steering him to the other side. Of course he wasn’t used to doing groceries.

He silently allowed you to guide him which was a win, Damian hated being told what to do no matter how small the suggestion was.

It didn’t take either of you too long to get everything you needed, but he spent ten minutes choosing a blanket as if he wouldn’t ruin the poor thing with mud and insects.

Passing the clothing area on your way to do checkout, you elbowed him on the side. He stared down at you, then followed your eyes as he realized they were fixed on something.

Damian groaned. “You’re so funny.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you wouldn’t buy Batman underwear?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

You narrowed your eyes, keeping your laugh in when you saw what resembled a pout on his face. “Robin’s?” you tried.

“Perhaps.”

You lost it at that. “Are they comfy?”

“Will you stop laughing if I say yes?”

“Only if it’s the truth.”

He just nodded, then did the gesture upward so you would resume the path towards the exit.

Pleased with his answer, you walked towards the checkout line. Damian stood behind you, breathing your scent in.

“Is that a new perfume?”

You craned your neck. “How did you know?”

Shrugging, hoping he was being nonchalant enough, he said, “I have a good nose.”

After a brief fight over who would pay for the groceries, —which he won by saying it had been his idea—, you left the store in direction of the park.

Your hand found his naturally, as if your palm’s place was to be pressed against his bigger one.

It felt good, but not really because of that bullshit —true, but bullshit still when magic was so unpredictable— of him being what your heart desired the most. The truth was that you could feel in his grip how much he wanted this to go well.

Swinging your clasped hands, you walked around the park, looking for the perfect spot to sit at.

You found a spot away from the kids running around, against a tree. Damian laid the blanket on the grass, placing the paper bags onto it next.

He slid an arm around your shoulders, using his other hand to eat.

“Do you think your family is already spying on us?” you asked gazing at him as you leaned onto his arm.

“I am certain.”

“You don’t mind?”

He lightly smiled at you, reaching for a strawberry. “Not at all. Do you?”

“Nah. I’m not looking forward to Barbara’s teasing, though.”

“Why did she tell us you had a guy over?” He bit down into the fruit.

“She has always said I have feelings for you.” You wiped the corner of his mouth with your thumb. It never occurred to either of you that you would need napkins. “And I guess she put two and two together when we covered our necks and used the same excuse.”

“In my defense, I could have blamed Tim.”

“In my defense,” you copied his smart-ass tone, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You told Duke from all people.”

“Duke was supportive.”

Damian hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure everybody knows the details already. He loves to gossip.”

Seeing you frown before you turned to look to the other side, he reached for your farthest cheek, softly pushing your face so you would stare at him.

“I don’t care if they know.”

You wished you could have believed him. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have avoided me the same way I avoided you.”

“I cared,” he clarified, “not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“Me, my priorities… my vision of you, of this.”

You took an apple in your hand. Rolling the fruit in your grasp, you only nodded. Saying something else would have been nice, appropriate even, but words escaped you.

The fact that he didn’t hate you was still pretty new, shocking to some extent. His willingness to be seen with you by family and strangers alike was a huge compliment, and a big deal.

It was too serious so suddenly… you liked it no matter how scary it was. There had to be a reason why he felt so sure about this, and trusting Damian had never been a bad idea.

Except from that time when you ended up with stitches all over your arm, but you could let that go if it meant having him by your side. As corny as it sounded.

“Meetings will be weird, won’t they?” You sunk your teeth into the apple, hearing him chuckle.

“Less awkward, I hope. Although I enjoy vexing my siblings.”

“We can have fake fights in front of them if you want.”

“And blame them for our nonexistent problems?”

“Of course, I’m sure they will try to give their input either way.”

Damian groaned. He feared just that. It would be out of a place of care, he knew, but it didn’t make it less intrusive — he could picture Dick, sitting down in front of him in the cave, with a big smile and dangling his finger as he told him the way he was supposed to treat you.

He liked to imagine that Cassandra would only threaten him. Perhaps Stephanie would do the same and stop Tim from patronizing him.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by thinking what would Jason and Duke do, he shifted and changed the subject to the movie you had been watching earlier.

You explained that it had been one of your favorites and told him the plot between bites, amused by the fact that he was trying to look interested even though you knew it wasn’t his type of movie.

He told you about the movies the team was supposed to watch that day. You didn’t feel guilty for skipping; as much as you loved them, you needed time for yourself.

Spending time with Damian on this occasion counted as time for yourself, although you would make yourself clear to him that you would eventually need alone time for real. It was a mere exception.

The two of you walked around the park for a while, talking about random things. He was surprisingly easy to talk to once you tried, and God did you try.

It couldn’t get better than hearing him speak casually, about the architecture nearby and the types of flora around the park, in a light tone and with his hand in yours.

Your fingers played with his, and once again you found yourself in awe of him, of how comfortable he was with the mindless gesture and his willingness to keep up with it. You doubted someone would ever surprise you as much as Damian did.

Slowing down a little bit to take the scenery in, you naturally tightened the grip of your fingers on his.

It was such a nice day to be outside… perhaps the weather cast had been wrong and it wouldn’t rain.

The city was bathed in a pink glow as the sun set, unrecognizable. No one would have guessed such scenery to take place in a deeply violent and corrupted place, not even the most optimistic person in the world.

You remembered clearly how surprised Jon had been the first time he saw something other than thundering rain and gray skies in Gotham.

Glittering under the sunlight, the flowers at the end of the playground looked alive for once as the sky stunned many around you. And when you turned to look at Damian, curious about his reaction, you found his eyes solely on you.

The trees, so green under the light of dusk, had nothing on Damian’s eyes. Such thought, so familiar that you felt as though it wasn’t the first time it crossed your mind, so natural that you found it a fact and not an opinion, made you forget about everything around you.

He continued gazing at you, finding the curiosity in your beautiful eyes flattering. Oh, how much he enjoyed being the object of your attention.

The scenery behind you was gorgeous, he was certain of it. In his opinion, you complimented the view in ways nothing would ever do — there was something in your peaceful semblance as you tore your gaze off the sky and admired him instead.

You could’ve been sharing a silent moment with the strangers around you, one of those things he had heard you say once made the world make sense, yet your eyes were on him, on his face. And it made him feel important like nothing before had.

His father’s praises, the ones he had sought for so long were nothing in comparison. Dick’s patience although fundamental to his development as a man fell short against the way your eyes were shining for him.

Twilight swirled around you, but his eyes never left your face nor yours did his. The world didn’t exist, and if it existed, then it didn’t matter — not when you found him worth all your attention, not when he thought you to be brighter than the sun itself.

The air in the car as he drove you back to your place was thick and tense. He hadn’t said a word since he told you about that time Bruce inaugurated the school across the park.

Damian looked lost in thought, like often you had seen him while out on patrol. The places his mind took him had never compromised his performance — you admired that.

Bruce had called him out an infinite amount of times, but he couldn’t do anything else when Damian always delivered. You had wondered how he did it many times, but now you had to assume Talia taught him.

He walked you into the building, fingers brushing your wrist as you fell in natural silence.

Fumbling for your keys, you felt him lean onto the wall just next to your door. You took more time than needed to open the door, hoping he would say or do something.

When he didn’t, you pushed the door open and turned on your heel to face him.

“I had an amazing day with you,” he said, eyes on yours.

You breathed out, “I did too.”

Why couldn’t the day last longer? You logically knew you would see him again, but something inside you wanted him to stay. You wanted him to stay, better said.

Would it be too bold, too sudden, to invite him in? He probably had patrol that night — hell, you were supposed to be getting into your suit at that moment instead of pondering on whether you were brave enough to imply you wanted to spend more time with him; preferably in your room, naked.

Fuck it. If he said no, you would say you had patrol either way.

“Do you want to co—“

“Yes,” he answered before you could finish the question, letting a relieved sigh out.

You pulled him into the apartment, arm around his neck as you used your other hand to close the door.

His lips fell on yours as he kissed you slowly, arms delicately around your plump form. He took his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong.

Damian grew confident as you attempted to kiss him more firmly, as steadily as your giddiness allowed you to. Tasting the fruit he had eaten earlier off his tongue, you wrapped your other arm around his torso, bringing him closer.

Smiling on your lips, he angled his face, kissing you with the same urgency he had the other night.

Eagerly, he tangled his tongue with yours until both of you were panting in search of air. As you caught your breath, Damian fiddled with the ends of your turtleneck.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Can I take this off? It’s getting in the way.”

“I can take it off—“

“I would like to do it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Damian slid the turtleneck off you slowly, huffing a small laugh when the blouse you were wearing under inched up. Placing the item to the side, he leaned to kiss your jaw.

Placing your hands on his sides, you slanted your head upon feeling his lips travel down to your neck.

He kissed the bite-mark left from before, softly, giving it small pecks. “Did I go overboard with this one?”

“A little bit. It’s been a pain in the ass to cover.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, leaving more light kisses over the area.

Your pulse quickened at the implication of his words. Damian felt the rush of blood on your jugular where he scattered wet kisses.

He trailed his lips up, breathing in your ear. You shuddered, fighting a whine as your hands looked for the hem of his crewneck sweater.

You inched the sweater up to his chest and waited for him to stand straight so you would be able to take it off. Damian was too busy kissing your face to care.

“Hey,” you did whine this time. “Damian, let me take it off.”

Smirking on your cheek, he hummed. Slowly, painfully so, he pulled away from you.

Once you had gotten rid of the sweater, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He curled his arm around you again, wanting you flush against him.

He slid his hand down and took a handful of your ass, making you buckle your hips up. Dragging his lips to your jaw again, he said, “Your stupid suit didn’t let me do that last time.”

One of your hands stayed on his shoulder while the other landed on his hip. Your fingers played with the loops of his jeans as he continued gripping and grabbing your ass like he had never touched one.

Angling your face, you attached your lips to his neck. Damian’s grip on you tightened.

“I want to take it slow,” he whispered, “but you’re making it really hard.”

“Metaphorically?” You mouthed his throat, hand sliding down to his chest, squeezing itself between both your bodies.

“And literally,” he whined. You loved the sound, for once not demanding yet still bratty.

As your hand slipped downward, you continued kissing his neck, paying special attention to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You hoped your lipstick wouldn’t dirty his shirt — or maybe you hoped it would, both were fine with you.

Damian put some space between you, understanding what you were trying to do. While you undid his jeans, he undid yours, considering it would be better to get rid of everything on his way now that he was still feeling patient.

Shoes and socks off, the two of you shed your jeans without care of where they landed. Now the living room’s floor truly was covered in scattered items of clothing and this time Damian enjoyed the view.

“Come here.” He reached for you, eyes on your chest as his hands ghosted your sides.

You looked up at him, unable to hide the enjoyment you got from his hungry eyes being all over you. Following their movements, you also observed their slow dilatation.

He inched a hand up your side. You assumed he would finally knead your breast but he merely ghosted its outline, head tilted as he watched his own hand move.

For a few moments, he only did that, almost as if he was in a trance. The warmth of your own palm on his lower abdomen as your fingers brushed the elastic of his boxers made him react.

You pushed him back, towards your bedroom, pulling the door open and shoving him inside. He smiled, lifting his arms in mock surrender.

Damian sat down on your bed, relishing into the smell of everything you owned — the bedding smelled like a mix of fabric softener and your delicious new heady perfume.

You got the urge to kiss his entire face, hands on his shoulders as he slanted his head back for you to do it comfortably. He relished on the gesture too, so spontaneous and warming.

He placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, urging you to straddle him. Watching you second guess yourself, he drew you closer to encourage you.

Giving a last kiss to his nose, you complied. Damian snaked his arms around your waist, a pleased smile pressing against your chin before he kissed your mouth.

You bit his lip, tugging on it. He crashed his lips against yours again just to then do the same himself, intentionally bitting harder than you had.

A moan escaped you. Feeling his cock twitch under your navel, you rocked your hips to watch his reaction.

His arms tightened around you as he tutted against your core. “This is the reason why I never train with you,” he groaned.

“I thought it was because I almost broke Tim’s leg once.”

“Don’t mention anyone else right now.”

Right. You had forgotten he had been jealous earlier.

Damian rolled over, switching places with you. He kissed you before you could pout, cradling your face with one hand while he held himself up with the other.

You placed a hand on his upper back while the other rested on the side of his neck, kissing him back with the same amount of passion he was kissing you.

He had you breathless in a matter of seconds, and as he broke the kiss, you saw his nostrils flare in attempts to catch his breath quickly.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he dropped his hand to your breast. This time he kneaded it, humming against your skin when you reacted with a small sound. His thumb brushed your nipple, playing with it while he busied himself with leaving marks on your chest.

So much for being careful, huh. At least those were easier to hide.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” He asked bluntly.

“If you’re in the mood.”

He kneeled on the bed, hooking his thumbs in your panties to slide them down. You lifted your hips to help him out, laughing when he threw your underwear behind him with little care.

You opened your legs for him, finding a comfortable position as he stayed there, taking all of you in, completely naked and at his mercy.

He kissed your thighs first, teasingly nibbling on them. Every time he got closer to the center, to where now you needed him instead of only wanting him, he pulled away and went back to your thigh.

Slowly, he dragged his index finger up and down your folds. Damian rested his chin on your right thigh as he watched his finger collect and smear your wetness, proud of the fact that he was the one who had made you wet. No one else.

Your breath hitched in expectant excitement as you saw him finally bury his head between your thighs. His tongue followed the same path his finger had outlined, at the same rhythm.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he praised, licking his bottom lip clean.

As he gradually increased his rhythm, licking long stripes along your folds, you got bolder and urged him to be firmer by pushing your hips upward.

He moaned against your pussy, playfully sucking your labia to let you know he got the message.

Bringing an arm up to pin your hips back down, he used his other hand to open your legs a little bit more and part your labia.

Damian pressed his tongue on your clit, moving it gently at first. He wanted to know exactly what you liked and how. It didn’t take him long to switch between using his lips and his tongue which earned him a loud moan.

His hand caressed your thigh, eventually sliding between the mattress and your body to grab your asscheek.

You whined his name, reaching down to hold the back of his head. It was clear to you that he was enjoying every sound he managed to make you blurt, and it felt really good, but you needed more.

Out of nowhere, he tugged on your hips to slide you down the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he sucked fervently on your clit.

You fisted the duvet, begging him to keep going. Damian complied happily, mouth latched on your clit as your pussy swallowed his moans and the four walls of your bedroom made yours bounce.

They were music to his ears and his entire body. He could feel the tingling all over him, excitement and pride flowing through his bloodstream.

Massaging your ass, he couldn’t help but chuckle upon feeling both your hands on his head now. He allowed you to push his face farther in, not once slowing down.

Your hips bucked up and instead of restraining you, he moved with you. If you moved up he did down and vice versa. You got louder and he marveled at how responsive you were to him.

He growled, gripping your ass with force as he sucked on your clit until his cheeks were hollow. He let go only to repeat the motion, letting his tongue wander when he needed a break.

You tugged on his hair, squealing. Your body tensed in his grasp, prompting him to continue with his ministrations. Feeling the tremor in your legs as you tried to settle back down on the bed, he started lapping tenderly.

You caressed his hair, panting with your eyes closed. Damian lifted his head, hands softly dancing over your thighs as he stood up.

Feeling him hover over you, you opened your eyes albeit with a little difficulty. His mouth and chin glistened with your slick, wanton eyes inspecting your semblance.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you rasped before clearing your throat.

He caressed your sweaty cheek. “Later.”

“Bu—“

He shut you up with a kiss. “Later, please? I just want to be inside you.”

Nodding against him, you kissed him again. Tasting yourself off his tongue was addictive. You held him still for a moment, licking your slick off his gorgeous face.

Damian growled, deep and loud this time, hands already on your waist. “Should I wear a condom this time?”

“No. Unless you want to?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want a single thing to keep him from feeling you fully. Damian stood from the bed. “Get on all fours.”

You rolled on your side first to then do as he had told you, holding your breath as you waited for him to stand behind you.

He rested a hand on your hip. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you gave him your consent.

Damian entered you slowly, little by little, less worried about hurting you and more about making you feel every inch of him as his cock filled you.

You breathed out through a whine. He gave you time to adjust to his size, leaning to kiss the scar on your back.

Wanting to stay like that forever, you waited more than you should have to. If he was aware, he decided to be patient — such thing only made you grow wetter.

“Go ahead,” you told him, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Reaching over, he gripped your hands. “You feel amazing, beloved.” He kissed your shoulder, nibbling on your skin as he rocked his hips.

God, you didn’t know if his comment had been what flattered you or the pet name. Either way, hearing them was as amazing as the way he felt inside you, filling you like no one before him had.

His hands left yours. He opted for placing them firmly on your hips and thrust into you steadily, keeping you from moving too much.

Humming in pleasure, you held the edge of the bed in anticipation. He went faster exponentially, calculating every single one of his thrusts.

Having control over his thrusts and the movement of your hips was nice and all, but he needed you closer.

Slapping your thigh, he croaked out, “On your back.”

You missed his girth the second he parted from you so you could change positions, it made you feel empty.

Damian helped you get comfortable, holding your thighs open before you got the urge to rub them. He smirked when you glared at him, hand leaving one of your legs to hold his cock.

He penetrated you again, bottoming out immediately as he made himself comfortable on top of you.

“Fuck, Damian!”

His hips snapped forward involuntarily. Both of you moaned at the same time, he pushed against your g-spot and you throbbed around him.

His movements were rougher like this, wilder. It was as though he wanted to prove a point to himself, you didn’t know which and you didn’t care as long as he fucked you like he needed to be inside you in order to be complete.

“Say my name again,” he rasped the command.

And how could you deny him? You repeated his name as many times as your moans allowed you like a broken chant.

Damian’s pace got quicker every time he heard his name fall from your lips, a tad uneven as he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure the mix of everything was bringing him — your walls gripping his cock, your hoarse moans and the angelic way honey dripped from your voice when you called for him.

You dragged your nails all over his back, moaning and whimpering in his ear. He was so loud in your own ear, saying things in Arabic that you couldn’t understand in such a fervent tone that you weren’t sure if you would come because he was fucking you into oblivion or because of his strained voice.

Hearing your name slip in his prayer-like monologue, you cried out upon feeling your stomach get tighter. You clung to his shoulders, letting him ram into you in unsteady thrusts that went from slow to hammering in seconds.

His tongue slipped, Damian started switching between languages. Grip on you tightening to the point of being bruising, he begged, “I need you to come first, please. I— shit.” He dropped his head into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around his hips, clenching around him.

You threw your head back, arching up to meet his latest thrust as your orgasm flew through you. Distantly, you processed a few of the sounds you were making and some of the ones you were elating from him.

Strings of hot cum covered your walls. He growled on your skin, saying your name and something you couldn’t really understand.

You let him ride off his orgasm inside you, hearing the mess he was making as the wet sounds from your slick and his cum mingled. His mouth covered yours in a tired kiss, lazy and with a hint of the tenderness he had put to the side even though his intentions had been different.

Once the two of you had caught your breaths and he had made an even bigger mess, you pulled the bedding off the mattress and threw everything into the washing machine.

He was all over you as the two of you shared a shower, so close that scrubbing off took you way longer than it should have.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. You were too happy to complain about his annoying little antics that you couldn’t wait to get used to.

”Should we suit up?” You asked him, watching the water drip down his chest like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“They can manage without us for a night.”

“You want to skip patrol?”

Drying his arms, he copied your tone, “You don’t want to spend more time alone with me?”

“Of course I do,” you replied immediately. “But you love patrol.”

He stood still, somewhat stiff in front of you. “Not enough, it seems.”

You dropped the topic at that and went on with drying your body.

He only put his underwear back on while you slipped a pair of panties and a t-shirt, awkwardly trying to find something to change the topic.

“Do you want some ice cream? I have a tub in the freezer.”

“Sounds good.”

A nice moment you shared, silently eating ice cream. He sat close to you the entire time, brushing your side.

It felt natural, as though you were supposed to be doing that and not anything else. Patrol could wait, and his family, and your friends, and the entire world.

The world stopped so you two could enjoy the moment, the day. Or perhaps it didn’t and you just couldn’t bring yourself to give this up for it — but he couldn’t either and that meant everything to you.

Damian never skipped patrol, he hadn’t done it in the worst moments of his life and you never expected to see the day in which he would find something more worthwhile.

You found a clean sheet for the bed in the laundry room which saved you from having to squeeze yourself with Damian on the couch. Maybe it was time to get a bigger one.

He rested his head on your stomach, cheek against your belly as he looked up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something, his brow was ever so slightly furrowed, and his eyes seemed clouded by a thought. He looked pretty nonetheless.

He traced his fingers over your thigh, drawing little doodles. You could make some up by feel — a flower, a bat, his name, a few stars, his name again, an R inside a circle, a heart, his name for the third time.

“I think I would’ve broken my oath to my father if you had had someone over.”

You slid your hand off his hair to caress his cheek, too worried to hide your frown. Damian took his promises and oaths seriously, more seriously than anything else. You had seen his family use said thing against him.

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” you tried to reason with him. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Would you have gotten mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It would’ve depended on a lot of things. Without context, obviously, but...” Realizing you were about to make up excuses for something that hadn’t even happened, you decided to ask, “Why are you still thinking about that?”

“I don’t want you to forget about me. Ever.”

“Are you planning to say goodbye or something of sorts?”

“No!” He glared at you for even considering such a thing to be a possibility after everything the two of you had talked about, after everything you had made him feel. ”But I...” Damian scoffed. “I can’t explain to you how horrible it felt. My eyesight clouded the moment Stephanie said it was time for you to start seeing someone.”

“Jealousy does that to us.” You tried to sound wise by saying it, an attempt you found quite pointless as you replayed it in your head.

Silently, he lifted his head off your stomach in order to lay down next to you. Shifting so he would be comfortable, you held your head up with your hand to properly gaze at him.

Damian mirrored your position. He told you, in a hushed tone like it was his deepest secret, “I felt like you were replacing me.”

Stephanie only had said that because it was the truth. Your relationships always fizzled out after the first two months so you had stopped trying. Then there was the fact that Damian himself had sabotaged who knows how many of them...

From her perspective, it made sense.

“Damian...” you trailed off, in vain. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t replace you as long as you don’t replace me.”

You thought he would find the comment insulting even though it was perfectly sound. But for God knows which time that day, Damian surprised you by scoffing with nonchalance.

Dismissing your worry, he slid closer to you, resting his forehead against your flexed arm. “I couldn’t possibly be happy without your perfume all over me.”

Grabbing him by the hair, you forced him to lift his head. His eyes found yours in a second, curious. You dropped your hand to his neck, sliding it up to his cheek.

Giving him the sweetest kiss you had ever given, tracing the side of his gorgeous face tenderly, you hoped you were doing a good job expressing what you wanted to communicate.

You were. He gave you in return the brightest smile you had seen in your entire existence. It was all for you, something you had caused, something you wanted to see for the rest of your life.

Damian pulled you onto his chest, laying on his back. He mindlessly ran his fingers over your side and up and down your back while you listened to his steady heartbeat.

You couldn’t possibly feel complete without him ever again.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne

954 notes · View notes

sparklysung · 4 years ago

Text

✨SWALLOW YOUR WORDS – l.d.h.✨

pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, enemies to lovers!au

warnings – switch!donghyuck, switch!reader, lap dance, cumming in pants, grinding, dry humping, cum eating, hair pulling (giving and receiving), spanking, mirror sex, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), degradation, dirty talk, bondage (belt), possessiveness (i guess?)

word count – 6.043 words

summary – it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

note – not my best, probably could've done better, but oh well. also this was frkng hard to write, damn, and i may have changed things a bit? BUT, i think it's better like this so… hope you enjoy! btw, i got the idea while reading this, so go check it out –it's good–.

taglist – @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername

another friday night wasting your time at some random classmate’s party. you were everything but happy to be there. you didn’t even want to go there in the first place, only finding yourself sitting on the kitchen counter, drink in hand and an ugly scowl adorning your face, because of your annoying best friend.

“hey, i get it, you didn’t wanna come here when you could have been peacefully sleeping in the comfort of your room, but come on, at least try to have some fun. you’re already here anyway.” eunbin –aka your annoying best friend– said, pouting her lips in a failed attempt of looking cute.

you kind of felt bad for her, you suppose it wasn’t exactly easy to deal with your lazy ass. but still, she was supposed to love you and appreciate you just the way you were.

and most of the time she did, just not in this specific situation.

“this isn’t fun at all, i just wanna go home. there’s nothing in here for me at all.”

you brought the red plastic cup to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid eunbin had mixed for you. you weren’t lying, there really wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay, only a few friends of yours getting drunk somewhere in the big house you were currently in.

“come on, please, stay for me,” eunbin fake cried, and for a moment you thought she was going to give up and let you go. “in a bit the guys are gonna play something fun! we should join them, please?” as her last resort, she looked at you with puppy eyes. she was playing dirty and she knew it, you both knew you couldn’t resist them.

giving in with an exasperated sigh, you jumped off the counter to get yourself another drink from the bar in the living room. you were minding your own business until you heard him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

“so, i’m telling you guys, she was literally begging me to fuck her, she even moaned while sucking me off–,” donghyuck’s obnoxious voice filled your ears, making you roll your eyes. he was surrounded by a couple of other guys you didn’t know so well but were sure you had seen them before around campus hanging out with him.

“shut up already, dongdong, no one wants to hear it.” you interrupted, walking past him and towards the half empty bottle of vodka on the bar counter.

the group of boys stopped abruptly, all of them turning to look at you, ready for the scene that was going to take place in matter of minutes. donghyuck’s attention also turned to you, biting back a triumphant smirk with a raised eyebrow. he could see past you so he didn’t mind the mocking nickname you used; he could tell you were trying to irritate him enough to make him go away. but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. he had been eyeing you all night, trying to find ways to get under your skin to catch your attention. and finally, after staying at a safe distance for a while to not spark suspicions, he got what he wanted.

“why so feisty, babe.” the cocky smirk he gave you just made your blood boil, the growing desire to punch it off his pretty face only getting stronger the more you stared at him.

“don’t you get tired of talking shit all day?” you barked, eyes trained on his body while pouring yourself a good amount of alcohol.

you were certainly going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night.

“you boast about girls begging for you but i think you’re just trying to hide the fact that you’re the one who has to beg to get laid.”

“i don’t beg, baby.” you rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘sure’. “also, if you’re jealous of me fucking other girls you just had to say it. i wouldn’t be against giving it to you instead.” the stupid wink he threw at you made your body shake in anger, already fed up with the conversation.

“you wish, asshole.”

“actually, i do.”

donghyuck was so fucking annoying, always teasing you and never leaving you alone. your personalities clashed constantly resulting in fights filled with screams and curses, sometimes to the extent of interrupting the class and getting the two of you kicked out of it. he enjoyed watching you struggle and suffer due to his awful pranks, so you were his favorite target. you couldn’t even have a proper date with anyone because he made sure to mess it up either by scaring the crap out of the guy or sabotaging your plans. he almost completely ruined your love life and cockblocked you forever.

you did not get along and everyone knew it.

although eunbin thought it was pure sexual tension and you just needed to get your frustrations off of you with a good fuck.

it wasn’t though.

or was it?

“let’s go hang out with the guys,” your best friend nudged your arm excitedly and you sighed, not feeling like playing anything with them. every time you decided to give in and take part in ‘something fun’ with the guys, it always ended up with you either in trouble or scarred for life.

you had a bad feeling about this all.

“ugh, fine.” she cheered and pulled you through the crowd of drunk people until you reached the basement.

the sound of laughter and screams drowned the music blasting upstairs, there were empty bottles of alcohol sprawled all over the floor and tables and a circle of people in the middle of the room. both of you joined the group with you sitting between eunbin and mark, a close friend of yours that you sadly shared with donghyuck. while you casually chatted and played around with the boy, happily laughing the night away, you could feel a pair of eyes burn holes into your skull. you didn’t have to look up to know who those eyes belonged to, as said person wasn’t even trying to dissimulate.

and by said person you meant donghyuck.

donghyuck hated the way you leaned on mark’s body, how you let his friend rest his head on top of yours and wrap his arm around your waist.

he was jealous, really jealous of your close friendship with the older boy.

mark and you had been friends for a long time now and you could even consider him your best friend, so you were comfortable around each other. you usually hugged, held hands and cuddled, he was used to you wearing his clothes –half of your closet were stolen hoodies that once belonged to him–, he even had a spare change of clothes in his room just in case you decided to drop by for an improvised sleepover. so it wasn’t surprising when sometimes when the two of you hung out on your own, people –even your friends in common– mistook you as a couple.

and the idea of you two dating made donghyuck feel sick to the stomach.

“we’re playing truth or dare, who wants to start?” seoyeon, one of your friends, spoke while looking around for someone to volunteer.

“i’ll go.” lucas raised his hand and everyone nodded, not minding.

the game went smoothly for a while and eventually, the more alcohol everybody drank, the crazier things got. mark ended up getting dared to lick whipped cream off of yuta’s chest and xiaojun had to cross-dress and dance on a table. everything was fine, you hadn’t been picked by anyone yet so you were pretty much having fun just enjoying the show.

until someone called your name.

“y/n, truth or dare?” jaehyun asked with a smirk.

he had an evil glint on his eyes making you feel suspicious. you knew you couldn’t choose truth or else everyone would make fun of you for being a pussy. and jaehyun just knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to let that happen.

you weren’t one to back down.

still, the way he stared at you made an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

what could he possibly have in mind?

“dare.”

seems like your gut feeling was right after all.

“give hyuck a lap dance,” jaehyun said immediately after the words left you mouth, making everyone in the room shake, some in excitement and some –you– in anger. donghyuck wasn’t expecting to take part in the dare, but he really wasn’t complaining either. “thank me later babe,” his shit-eating grin only adding fuel to the fire.

fuck.

just as eunbin, donghyuck could sense the sexual tension. and unlike you, he acknowledged it.

but for him it wasn’t just that.

you two had known each other –or at least acknowledged each other's existence– for a few years now, since high school. he was forced to see you almost every day at school, so, naturally, fondness for you started growing slowly in his chest. but it wasn’t until you both left for college that your ‘enemies’ label was established.

and if someone thought he may possibly like you, they were damn right.

he did.

it all started during freshman year, when he tried to befriend you during one of the classes you shared. you seemed irritated by his advances and wanted him away from you, so after a few attempts of softening your heart, he resolved that the only way to stay close to you was annoying the hell out of you.

childish? yeah. he cared? not really.

“come here, babe.” donghyuck tongued the inside of his cheek, a smirk forming on his lips. as he saw the grim look on your face, he sprawled his legs, patting his toned thigh invitingly, eager to get things started.

the look jaehyun gave you had ‘you’re not backing down, are you?’ written all over.

“shit, i hate jaehyun, why did he have to do me dirty like that?” you mumbled angrily to eunbin and she just laughed, finding the situation way funnier than you.

“maybe tonight won’t be as boring as you thought? maybe you’ll end up getting laid.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you only scoffed, “shut up, dumbass.”

“why did you have to do me like that, huh?!” you almost screamed at the older, taking a mental note to beat him up later. he just shrugged and threw you a wink, “asshole.”

mark patted your back to help you relax, he could see you weren’t exactly happy about your dare.

“come on, which song would you like, my lady?” lucas asked, scrolling through his spotify for suiting songs.

“or nah!” yangyang answered before you could even open your mouth. just as you were about to ask for a less sexual song, cheering erupted through the room.

everyone was pumped, adrenaline running through their veins and pushing them to do stupid stuff they would probably regret the next day after waking up hungover. and things just took a rather interesting turn, so they obviously were excitedly awaiting the next series of events.

yay, more stupid memories to regret later.

on the other hand, donghyuck was as doomed as you. he knew the song well, he knew the lyrics by heart but what he didn’t know was if he could control himself with you basically dry humping him in front of a bunch of people to the rhythm of it.

he wasn’t sure it was a great idea.

as soon as you got up to complete the dare, you heard cheering and clapping. and you weren’t going to lie, you wanted to throw yourself out of a window.

breathing deeply in an attempt of relaxing to just get it over with, you made your way towards donghyuck until you were standing a few feet in front of him.

as the music started playing, you started moving. running your finger on the surface of his clothed shoulder, you walked slowly around him, like a predator circling its prey. he tried not to follow your movements, already getting anxious by your closeness and nervously waiting for your next move.

i’ma smoke this joint then i’ma break you off.

i’d be lying if i said you ain’t the one.

you pushed his legs open and settled between them. your hands rubbed his thighs teasingly, fingers drawing closer to his crotch but not quite getting there. you took your sweet time feeling him up, softly scratching his strong arms and leaving red trails behind. donghyuck was so into it, enjoying the sight of you kneeling before him so much that his pants were already starting to feel tight.

heard you not the type that you take home to mom.

is we fuckin’ when we leave the club or nah?

i ain’t spendin’ cash for nothin’ i wanna see you take it off.

and oh how he wanted to see you take it off. all night he couldn’t take his eyes off of your figure, you looked really good in the outfit eunbin had chosen for you.

so good it was almost making him drool.

you sat on his lap, hands going to caress his toned chest and stomach. it was well-known that donghyuck exercised frequently, but it still surprised you. he felt so good you had to bite your lip to prevent a sound from coming out.

when you shifted to sit closer to him, his hands flew to your hips and you could tell his intention was to move them lower to grope your ass, but you weren’t having it.

do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?

you can ride my face until you’re drippin’ cum.

“if you try to touch me again, i’ll tie you up,” you said with a sweet smile plastered on your face, grabbing him by the wrists and harshly dropping them away from you. donghyuck let out a startled gasp at that, obviously not expecting your attitude. with his hands twitching to grasp anything, he went to grip tightly the sides of the chair.

can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?

can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?

your hips ground against his crotch at such a slow pace that donghyuck was having trouble not pushing you down on him faster. he was getting embarrassingly hornier as seconds passed and wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, even with his friends’ eyes on you both.

donghyuck tried so hard to restrain himself from touching you. he wasn’t one to follow orders, but he tried just for you, he really did.

i’m not the type to call you back tomorrow.

but the way you wrappin’ ‘round me is a prob.

and everything was fine until you kissed him. synchronized gasps filled the room, the sudden show of affection confusing everybody. not even your intoxicated self could understand what the hell were you doing nor who you were doing it with. his breath got stuck in his throat, heart thumping against his chest at an alarming rate. his hands almost tried to bring you closer, but he realized what he was doing on time to stop himself.

he finally broke down when your mouth sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind up against yours unconsciously as his hands grabbed you by your waist, pressing your body flush against his.

that was it.

“you asked for it,” your movements came to a stop as you took off your black leather belt, sticking to your threat of tying him up if he didn’t quit it.

pussy so good, i had to save that shit for later.

took her to the kitchen, fucked her right there on the table.

“oh shit,” donghyuck stirred under you trying to get out of the situation.

this couldn’t be happening.

“no, please,” he whimpered as you fastened the belt until it was wrapped tightly around his wrists, locking his arms behind his back. your audience was unable to hold in their surprise, some mouths falling open. he fought against the restraints to no avail, desperate to free himself, “please, let me go,” he cried out quietly, not wanting the other occupants in the room to hear him.

“stop complaining or else i’ll also gag you,” you spat harshly in his ear, done with his attitude, and he swallowed hard. as you nibbled on his lobe, you felt a strong sense of confidence. it made your chest swell in pride to see the usual big mouth jerk with a smug grin constantly attached to his face falling apart under your touch.

seems like he was the one to beg, after all.

you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, making sure to press harder against the sensitive tip of his cock, which was already leaking precum. although you weren’t an expert, you’d given a fair share of lap dances, so you knew what you were doing.

and donghyuck could certainly tell.

don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.

take it for a real one.

you gon’ get it all.

“whose bitch are you now, huh?” donghyuck couldn’t speak properly, way too hot and bothered for his brain to come up with any smart-ass response.

you tsked disapprovingly at his lack of response.

“when i ask you a question, you answer.” your fingers tangled in his hair and with a harsh tug you forced him to look up. donghyuck was dazed, lips swollen from you biting on them, eyes glassy from arousal, and mind clouded with lust.

“yours.” he whimpered quietly, forgetting momentarily about your audience.

“good boy.”

you loved how easy it was for you to break him and leave him wanting more, to have him so putty in your hands. specially since hearing comments of other female classmates about donghyuck teasing them almost till the brim of tears was part of your day-to-day life. it felt like you were getting revenge for all of them, so you were enjoying it a lot more than anyone could imagine.

your plump lips trailed down the length of his neck, leaving wet kisses along his honey-like skin, and he threw his head back to give you more access. as you licked, sucked and bit the flesh, donghyuck could hear his heartbeat loud over the music. he usually wouldn’t let a girl suck hickeys on his skin, but the idea of you marking him while everyone watched was rather exciting.

he swore the seconds passed slower than usual. you were just halfway through the song but he didn’t know if he could survive any longer.

donghyuck felt light-headed and painfully aroused, and he wasn’t going to last long if you kept kissing him and moving your hips the way you were.

“i’ma go as far as you let me,” your movements became slower to tease him, making the poor boy want to cry in agony. his jeans felt way too tight to be comfortable and he hoped everyone could just leave you two alone to take it off.

“shit, please,” donghyuck’s eyes closed, head falling forward and hanging low as drops of sweat slid down his forehead. the room felt like an oven and he didn’t know if it was a result of the significant amount of people in such a small space, the alcohol, his choice of clothing or your body pressed closely against his.

probably the latter.

girl, is you sucking me or fucking me or nah?

can i bring another bitch? let’s have a threesome.

“keep saying you’re a freak, you gon’ prove it or nah?” you quietly sang along, pulling his face closer by his hair and grinding down on him harder.

donghyuck was going crazy, he had never expected you to be so sexy, to behave so dirtily. but he loved it, and by the prominent tent in his pants, everybody could tell he was in for the ride of his life.

you’s a ride-or-die chick, you with this shit or nah?

say you not a side bitch, you all-in or nah?

you gon’ make them eggs cheesy with them grits or nah?

you brought him in for a hot kiss that left his head spinning.

donghyuck was growing restless as his climax neared, he was so close he could almost taste it. he couldn’t remember when the last time he got so close to cumming only from some teasing was.

everything was happening so quickly he wasn’t able to stop himself before giving in to the pleasure.

“h-holy fuck,” with a shaky moan that you swallowed, donghyuck shot his load, staining the crotch of his dark jeans. you could feel the wetness seeping through the piece of clothing and dampening your bottoms. his hips gave a few more sloppy thrusts, legs shaking weakly and cock twitching from the confines of his jeans, before falling limp on the chair.

or nah.

as the song ended, he came down from his high. you freed him from the iron grip of your belt, the skin on his wrists was red and slightly swollen. you may have tightened it too much in the heat of the moment, but you weren’t apologizing after giving him probably the best orgasm of his life.

the bewildered expression on his face quickly turned grim as it hit him.

he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

in a room full of people.

in front of his friends, yours and you.

his friends stood there, both confused and surprised to see donghyuck so affected by your touch. nobody had expected things to end the way they did.

“damn, are you okay my man?” johnny asked, laughing at his friend’s flustered state.

“shut up,” donghyuck answered bitterly. he shot up from his seat, grabbing your hand and shoving you inside the nearest bathroom in the house. he didn’t even care to cover the wet spot on his pants, walking with his chin up and a scowl plastered on his face.

and blame it on how riled up you had gotten from the feeling of his hard dick pressing against your needy pussy, but damn, he looked good.

“i wanna go next!” hendery spoke excitedly. you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually wanted you to give him a lap dance too. either way, it made your lips turn upwards in a smug grin.

once you both made it to the bathroom, he locked the door before pushing you against it, back pressed flush into the hard piece of wood. the ambience took a 180 turn, your confidence faltered slightly at the sight of his angry form.

“you think it’s funny, yeah?” he hummed angrily in your ear. “you think i’d let you do whatever you want and embarrass me in front of my friends just because you feel like it without payback?” the look on his eyes getting darker as the words left his mouth.

“if so, oh baby, you were so wrong.”

trying to test him, you decided to answer.

“you’re all bark and no bite, what else am i supposed to think?” you smirked devilishly when you saw him clench his jaw.

“you’re gonna regret being a brat,” his slender fingers wrapped themselves around your waist and with a harsh tug, he pulled you closer to attack your lips, biting and sucking on them, making your legs wobbly. he tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, probably from the liquor he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t seem to get enough. his lips were soft and plush as they mingled with yours, teeth roughly clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, “am i?”

donghyuck hissed through his teeth as he unbuckled his pants, letting his cum-covered shaft spring free. he was already hard and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease some of the tension building up between them. his hand shot to your throat, tightening his grip until you couldn’t breathe properly, before forcing you on your knees.

donghyuck tapped his hard and heavy cock on your lips a couple of times before speaking. “open up, slut,” and you did as you were told, parting your lips and poking your tongue out, waiting for him to slide in.

but he didn’t.

he wanted you to lick him clean, he wanted to see you do as he said, follow his orders like a good girl without complaints.

“clean the mess you’ve done. now.”

the harsh tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. your hands immediately shot up to grab a hold of his length, but before you got too close he stopped you. confusion was written all over your face and for a moment you worried he had changed his mind.

“no hands, i want you to work on it only with that dirty mouth of yours.”

with your hands gripping onto his thighs, your tongue swiped from the base to the head of his cock, eagerly licking him clean. once you had swallowed every drop of his cum, your mouth took him whole, hollowing your cheeks, one hand massaging his balls. donghyuck threw his head back as yours bobbed at a rapid pace, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

when he was about to cum, he pulled away from your mouth, making you whine at the loss. wrapping his hand once again around your throat like a beautiful necklace, he forced you up on your feet. he turned you around before pulling you closer by a rough tug. your clothed ass pressed against his dick, a mixture of his arousal and your saliva wetting the cloth. your hips ground back to both tease him, desperate to feel something, anything. his hands went to the front of your jeans, rubbing his fingers over your clothed clit and a whimper fell from your lips.

“more, i need more,” you pleaded, the barrier of clothes making the feeling less pleasurable.

he surprisingly complied without resistance, dipping the digits under the restricting cloth. a deep groan vibrated against the side of your neck when he felt the wetness that had been gathering inside your panties since your dare.

“look at you, so damn wet,” his mouth watered at the feeling of your needy heat. at this point, donghyuck knew everyone had an idea of what you two could possibly be doing, and although he would enjoy returning the favour by eating you out to his heart’s content, there wasn’t enough space nor time to do so comfortably. but he swore he would make it up to you some time.

“for who is it, baby?” the answer was obvious, but still, he wanted to hear it directly from you. he inserted one long finger until it was knuckles deep inside of you and you let out a squeak, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“for you donghyuck, all for you.”

“that’s right, slut, only i can make you that wet, only i can touch you like this. you’re mine, don’t forget that,” he inserted a second finger and pumped them deeply into you.

“yes,” you breathed out softly, too far gone to fight back with a snarky remark.

although his fingers felt good and you could possibly –with a bit of an effort– cum just from them, you still wanted more. you wanted to feel the nice stretch of his cock tearing your walls apart.

“please, donghyuck.”

“what do you want?”

donghyuck knew what you wanted. fuck, he wanted it too, so bad. he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and now that he could finally have it, he was going to make the best out of it.

“fuck me,” your core ached to be filled so you swallowed your pride and spoke out.

“condom?”

“we don’t need it, i’m on the pill,” you rushed, stomach twisting and turning in excitement, “please, just fuck me.”

donghyuck’s eyes turned darker, lust clouding both of your minds with the only desire to fuck each other stupid. he pulled down your jeans so they were pooling on your ankles and went back to pump his fingers inside you to make sure you were ready to take him. as he entered you, you had to lean on the sink in front of you to hold yourself up or else you would have faceplanted the mirror.

“you feel so good, fuck, so fucking tight,” donghyuck growled when he was balls deep in you.

whimpers fell from your lips from the delicious stretch of his thick cock. after a few seconds of you adjusting to his size, you backed your ass into his hips to let him know you wanted him to move. he gave a couple of thrusts to test the waters before picking up his pace and you gripped the sides of the sink as he pounded into you. his mouth worked on your neck while you brought one of his hands under your shirt to play with your breasts.

“such a pretty sight, don’t you think?” he tugged harshly at your hair to force you to look at your reflection on the mirror, thrusts never faltering.

your makeup was ruined; lipstick smeared messily all over your lips from the hot make-out session, neck full of bruises donghyuck left to claim you, shirt pulled above your breasts displaying your puckered nipples while one of his big hands grabbed your boob as they bounced with every hard snap of his hips.

“you have no idea how many times i had to control myself not to pounce on you,” his eyes never left your quivering reflection, completely in love with the way your frame molded with his, “every single time you couldn’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed and all i wanted to do was shut you up with my cock.”

“f-fuck,” his thrusts turned rougher as his free hand wrapped around your neck, tightening his grip and amplifying the mind-blowing sensations he was giving you.

your asscheeks slapped against his hips, which drilled against you at an unhuman pace, hitting the right spots with every snap and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, loud moans threatening to fall from your lips so you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“don’t, i want to hear you,” he gave a particularly hard thrust to try and draw a sound out of you, “i want you to be so loud that all of our friends know what we’re doing, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”

specially mark.

but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“h-hyuck,” you couldn’t hold back the broken moan that fell from your lips, pleasure overtaking your body. your hands gave in and you almost fell forward, but donghyuck reacted sooner and pulled you by your hair, holding you up.

“address me properly, brat,” he growled in your ear. you felt a hard slap on your ass, the skin of the abused area stinging from the impact.

“i’m sorry… fuck, donghyuck,” your cries went straight to his dick, urging him to fuck you harder. he kneaded the flesh soothingly before spanking it again and again until you could make out the imprint of his big hand on your asscheek.

“f-faster, please,” you pleaded in a whine and he tsked, shaking his head, “such a greedy little slut.”

“what would everyone think of you if they could see you so eagerly taking my cock, mm?” donghyuck hummed, “begging for me to fuck you until you can’t walk properly?

shocks of pleasure shot through you, his dirty talk helping you reach your release faster than you anticipated. his grip on you was so tight you were sure you were going to be sore the next day. your moans turned pornographic as you neared your release, your walls squeezed around donghyuck to the point he was unable to move, so he started drawing circles over your sensitive clit to help you get off.

“let go, baby.”

and soon, his touch threw you over the edge, causing your body to shake and a broken moan to fall from your lips, legs weak as your whole weight only relied on your arms for support. he followed shortly after, grunting as he filled you up with his warm and sticky essence.

as he pulled out, a mixture of your slick juices and his seed leaked from your abused hole, dripping down your inner thighs. his fingers slid over to gather the drops of cum and opposite to your assumption, he didn’t push it back inside of you but brought the digits to your face, waiting for you to open your mouth.

“suck.”

and you did, eyes locked with his through the mirror as your tongue swirled around his fingers to lick them clean.

“fuck,” donghyuck sighed, “i didn’t know you were so dirty, sweetheart.”

and the teasing comes back.

“do you want me to remind you how i made you cum in your pants back there in a room full of people?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and he just let out a breathy laugh.

“whatever. either way, even if they didn’t have the pleasure of fucking you or at least seeing you get fucked, they surely could hear you from how loud you were screaming my name.”

“good thing mark now knows who you belong to,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think and both of you shared a look of pure shock.

“did you just mention mark?”

“…no?”

“you did! what the fuck? were you jealous of mark?” you asked, eyes wide as you remembered the disgusted look on his face when you and mark got too touchy with each other during the game.

“i am jealous of mark.”

“what? why?”

“oh my god, you’re so dense.”

“shut up, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. i like you dumbass, that’s fucking why. why wouldn’t i be jealous if you two act like you’re dating but always deny it when questioned? i can give you my hoodies, i can cuddle you and hold your hand, i can spoil you with cute stuff. i can be your boyfriend, it doesn’t have to be him.”

everything was so weird.

you were supposed to be enemies for fucks sake.

but he looked cute with pouty lips.

“well, you sure have got a damn weird way of demonstrating it.”

“shut up, okay?” donghyuck snapped, done with trying to get you to shut the fuck up. “i just didn’t know how to approach you or talk to you at all, alright?” he sighed, a scowl forming on his face. “you always seem to be angry when i’m around.” the change in his voice shocked you, it was much softer now, as if he was afraid of you hearing it.

“hey, don’t beat yourself for it, alright?” you sighed, feeling bad for being so mean to him for no reason. because you really didn’t have a reason. whenever you weren’t at each other’s throats and you got time to observe him from afar, you saw how caring he was with his friends, even if most of the time he annoyed the crap out of them.

donghyuck actually seemed like a good guy… if you ignored his teasing.

maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

“so, would you be my-,”

suddenly, the sound of banging on the door resonated through the room.

“are you done already? i need to pee.”

you quickly fixed your clothes, embarrassed by the presence of someone outside the door waiting for you and donghyuck to get out and momentarily forgetting about the boy’s proposal. just as you were about to open the door and get yourself the fuck out of the situation, his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and whisper to your ear in a way you could feel your panties get damp once again.

“we’re not done yet, princess.”

–lia:)

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fics-of-my-mind · 4 years ago

Text

Trust - Chapter XIV.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.

I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XIV. - Oh I'm not playing any games tonight

It didn't really take me long to forget everything that happened in the bathroom. Two gin and tonics later, when Nick found me, the moment he placed his hand on my waist, guiding me towards the entrance, my mind was once again only concentrated on him, and the wetness between my legs.

Maybe Demi was right and he was going to break my heart, but I didn't care at the moment, not at all. The only thing on my mind was that this is it, we were finally going to sleep together.

After gathering our phones, we got into a black car, and started heading somewhere, I guessed that my apartment. Nick was holding onto my hand through the whole ride, but he didn't look at me, keeping his glance on the outside world. I'm sure that it was only to drive me even crazier.

I just wasn't able to calm down. My mind, my body, my whole being was constantly focused on him and nothing else. The way his fingers skinned my hand, the fact that he was extremely close, the dirty thoughts about wanting to hop onto his lap... it was all too much.

'We should talk about a few... technical things,' Nick announced unexpectedly somewhere midway.

'Now?' I asked, raising my eyebrow. I did not want to talk, not now, not so close to finally doing what I've only been dreaming about so far.

'Now,' he nodded, his handsome face strict and serious. 'The minute we are behind closed doors... I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you for a second.' I swallowed, looking at him, my insides warming just from the promise in his voice.

'What do you want to talk about?' I asked, swallowing, as Nick took one of my hands in his.

'When things get intense - not specifically tonight, but whenever,' he started, lowering his voice so the driver couldn't hear it. 'I want you to have a safe word. Have you thought about that?'

'Yes,' I nodded immediately. We've touched on the topic a few days ago, Nick just out of nowhere telling me to start thinking about a safe word that I'm comfortable using. It was surprisingly challenging. 'I did come up with a word that I think is great.'

'What is it?' Nick asked, his voice full of interest.

'Light,' I said, biting my lip. 'Your first words to me back in Barcelona were 'Do you need light?', and it's just-'

'It's perfect,' he nodded, his eyes darkening a bit. 'Whenever you don't feel comfortable with what's happening, even if it's just a slight discomfort, I want you to use that word and I stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings, no consequences, we'll just stop. Promise me that you'll use it when you need it, Milla.'

'I promise,' I nodded, looking deeply into Nick's eyes, even though I was sure I'd avoid using that word for however long I could. I just didn't want to say it, I trusted Nick that he won't do anything I'd feel uncomfortable with.

'Now the other thing,' he started, still holding my hand. 'Protection. I know that you haven't been sexually active lately, so I guess-'

'When I first saw you in the club,' I started, cutting into his words. I could feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks, and I had to turn my eyes away from him. I don't know why I felt embarrassed about this, but I did. 'I went and got a prescription. I've been on the pill for the last few weeks.'

'Oh.' Was all Nick said at first, but he raised his free hand to my cheek, making our eyes connect once again. His dark brown orbs were glistering in the semi-darkness as he looked at me. 'Why?'

'I don't know-, I guess just the idea of us being in the same city and having a bigger chance at this happening,' I started, gesturing between us with my fingers. 'I just hated the idea of if it ever comes to sex, there would still have to be a little piece of rubber keeping us apart.'

My whole face was flushed at this point, but as much as I wanted to turn my glance away, Nick wouldn't let me.

'You know I'm usually a 'no glove, no fun' guy... But honestly, it was making me feel crazy, the thought of not being able to fully feel you around me,' he said, chuckling a little. 'So I adore you for thinking ahead.'

He pulled me closer, connecting our lips, but not deepening the kiss this time.

The rest of the car ride went like a blur.

I was pretty surprised when about twenty minutes later the car stopped somewhere in Downtown LA, in front of a pretty tall apartment building.

'Where are we?' I asked Nick.

'Joe and I used to live here together. Never sold the apartment, we kept it for occasions when, for example we were too drunk to make our way home, or we needed some alone time. In the past few years we only used it for writing,' he explained before getting out of the car and holding the door open for me.

I didn't even remember the ride upstairs, all I could concentrate on was Nick's hand laced through mine. We were in public – at least public enough that a bunch of people could see us, including the doorman and a few residents – yet Nick wouldn't let me go, not even when I tried pulling away when a woman stepped into the elevator with us.

He knew I was frustrated and he was enjoying it way too much, the smirk on his face told me. Little fucker, I didn't know what his game was.

The apartment was beautiful, I found myself in complete awe. It wasn't unnecessarily big, like most A-list celeb's properties, the living area had huge floor to ceiling windows with a view to downtown LA, there was a comfortable looking white couch in the middle and also a beautiful piano, something I'm sure Nick spent a lot of time with.

Black and white dominated in the place, both in furniture and accessories. There was a huge dining table separating the living area from the kitchen, which was also beautiful, with black build-in counters. Nick didn't turn on the light, only the built-in fireplace, so the whole room was in semi-darkness. Still, it was beautiful.

Not even looking back to see if Nick was following me, I walked to the huge windows, the view taking my breath away. It was like one of those apartments that I've only seen in movies before, since in my country skyscrapers and floor to ceiling windows in apartment buildings weren't really a thing.

'So beautiful,' I said, taking in all of the lights of the city, the traffic, the moon.

'Yes, it is,' Nick replied, standing a few steps behind me. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, and something told me, he wasn't necessarily talking about the city lights.

I took a deep breath before turning around and finally facing him. Nick's eyes were darker than usual, almost black as they glistered in the semi-darkness of the room. There wasn't much light, only the moon and the lights of the city brightened somewhat the otherwise dark apartment.

Nick looked amazing, the semi-darkness giving his handsome face a rough edge, making him all mysterious. His lips were inviting as they slightly parted, and I could barely look away from them.

This was it.

The way his intense gaze imprisoned mine, it made my breath get caught in my throat. Thousands of emotions filled my heart as his darkened orbs slid to my lips for a moment, then back to my eyes. The minute of longing for each other seemed extremely long, yet equally exciting and arousing. Then, Nick got bored of just looking and finally closed the distance between us.

This kiss was not a bit gentle or innocent. Everything was in it: the months of waiting, of not crossing the line, to the freedom of us finally being able to do whatever we wanted to do with each other. The extremely deep feelings we've grown for each other, the need of touching, of owning the other, the hunger that would've eaten us if we had to wait any longer.

Nick's fingers pushed into the skin of my waist roughly, definitely leaving a mark, which just made me pull him closer by the back of his head even harder. He didn't really ask for permission with his tongue, not that he had to, he could do whatever he pleased with me. He was everywhere, his unique minty scent in my nose, his sweet taste in my mouth, his hands all around my body: on my waist, ass, thighs, hair.

Finally being this close to him, I couldn't hold myself back. It's been a long while since I've had sex in the first place, and it seemed like an eternity since I've been longing for him. My hands tried gripping onto his hair, pulling on it not a bit gently as Nick let me catch my breath and let go of my lips, yet started pampering my neck with kisses.

I couldn't hold back a moan, when he started sucking on the thin skin of my neck, just above my vein, my nails digging into his upper arm when he bit down, definitely marking me with bruises. It was all so sexy.

I was the first one to start to undress him, as I pushed the material of his jacket off his shoulders. I needed to feel Nick, I needed his skin on mine. My fingers were trembling from the desire, but I only got to unbutton two of the buttons on his shirt when he pushed my hands away. I looked at Nick with a confused expression on my face, but he didn't feel the need to say anything. He unzipped my dress without ever turning me around or even looking, his lips making their way to my shoulders which gave me massive goosebumps.

When he smoothed my dress to the ground, he pulled away a bit, eyeing my body up and down, his eyes engorging a bit as he took in my white, lacy bra and panties set. I choose this on purpose, the memory of our talk about lingerie was still vividly in my head. His eyes were full of lust, and he ran his hands from my waist to the side of my chest, his palms resting on my ribcage on both sides, while his fingers grazing the lace of the white bra.

'I'm truly intrigued,' Nick mumbled, still not turning his gaze away from my body. The feeling of being shy or embarrassed didn't find me this time, and I didn't even flinch when he pulled me closer so our lower bodies were touching and I could definitely feel his excitement against my abdomen. 'So pure. And all for me.'

I swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge of proving him that I'm not that innocent. Unexperienced, sure, but innocent? No. Nick, the Nick in his right mind knew this, but this Nick, the man of lust didn't care. He saw me as pure, which made me feel slight embarrassment and extreme happiness at the same time, I couldn't perfectly describe it.

Running a hand to his chin, I made him look into my eyes, and felt myself become even more overwhelmed by all of the things I felt and that I saw in Nick's dark orbs. This time I was the one to connect our lips, kissing him heatedly, while my fingers returned to unbuttoning his shirt and finally succeeding. When our hot skin finally touched, Nick groaned and I softly bit his lower lip. I could feel his smirk, but didn't say anything, just ran my fingers down to his chest and back, exploring every inch of him.

Suddenly it wasn't enough. I needed Nick, wanted him so hard that I've never felt anything like this in my whole life. The kiss grew much more desperate as there was even less keeping our parts from touching. Just as I slipped my fingers into the buckle of his leather belt, Nick pushed my hands away once more.

'Nick,' I moaned into his mouth. Nick just smirked, holding my wrists in one hand, while unclasping my bra with the other. He kissed down from my lips along the side of my neck to my breasts, running his tongue down between them. When his lips found my left nipple, I moaned, my body arching against him. His hand never left my right breast, playing with my nipple, pulling it, squeezing it. The tingling between my legs was getting worse, I could feel myself dripping. I needed Nick not to just play with my body, but finally touch me where I wanted him the most.

He pushed me against the huge floor to ceiling window, his lips never leaving my chest area. The cold of the glass and the hotness of our bodies made me shiver - or was it the sea of emotions making goosebumps reappear on my skin? Nick continued his journey, his lips kissing downwards from my breasts, along my stomach, as he lowered himself onto his knees.

Seeing Nick kneeling in front of me, looking up cheekily, with a very promising glance made me want to crawl out of my skin. I felt like nothing was enough, not until we were fully united, until there was nothing between us. I groaned, my hands running into his hair as Nick carefully lifted each of my legs and made me step out of the heels I didn't even remember were still on.

I felt such love for him, I almost said it out loud, even though my mind successfully stopped me. I couldn't say it, not yet anyways. There was this pride in me, wanting to hear him say it first.

When he broke our gaze and softly kissed my abdomen, I moaned quite loudly.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

Before I had the chance to react, his fingers finally pushed against me, touching me through the panties. I knew he could feel how ready I already was for him, the smug smirk on his face spoke for itself. I felt myself go crazy, the sensations of Nick's fingers moving against my panties, creating friction. If the window wasn't pressed against my back, I'm sure that my legs would've given out. I tried to move my hips, so his fingers would press harder, but Nick's other hand found my waist and pushed my body back, keeping me in place with force. I moaned desperately. His lips lowered, avoiding the textile and founding their way to my thighs, kissing them, biting them.

I moaned his name as he lifted one of my legs, placing it on his shoulder, so he could continue his sweet torture on the sensitive inner thighs, meanwhile his fingers were still pressed lightly against my lady parts. Nick wasn't gentle, and I didn't want him to be. When he started sucking harshly on the thin skin of my thighs, marking me there, I felt myself lose my mind completely. I couldn't concentrate on anything else, but the need for him. I was squirming against him, trying to get out of his hold and pressing my body against him harder, but Nick was much stronger, as he kept me from moving around too much.

It seemed like an eternity later when he finally made his way upwards and kissed me through the lingerie, one of his hands making its way to my ass and pulling me towards his face, while the other still pushing on my waist and keeping me from moving too much. I suddenly started regretting the white underwear, Nick seemed to like it way too much, and he still wasn't taking it off of me. I desperately wanted it gone, I wanted to feel his lips directly against my clit.

He did kiss me at least. As his tongue pushed against my panties, tasting me through the lacy material, I needed to take one hand from his hair and use it to keep my stance, trying to find a grip on the glass behind me.

'So sweet,' he mumbled, not moving his head from my sensitive parts, so his words were creating vibrations, making me shiver.

'Nick, please,' I moaned, when he started sucking on my clit hardly. I was a mess, in my right mind I probably would've felt embarrassed, but now I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Nick and how much I wanted him.

'Since you asked so nicely', he said, and pulled his hand from my behind, moving the thong to the side without taking it off. His hungry lips found my clit immediately, and I'm pretty sure I screamed from the sensation. I was so close. 'So fucking ready for me already,' Nick groaned as he ran a finger along my slit, now feeling my pooling wetness directly. When he inserted a finger into me, I felt my walls clench around him, the feeling of a man touching me last time only being a faded memory for my senses. As his lips returned to my clit and his tongue started drawing circles on it, I could feel myself relax, and clearly so did Nick, since he started rhythmically moving his finger in and out. When he inserted another finger, I saw stars. All the sensations, his fingers moving in and out of me, getting me ready for him, his tongue lapping against my wetness, his lips occasionally sucking on my clit, brought me so close to the edge, that when Nick - very intentionally - curled his fingers inside me, making me feel things I've never really felt before, I exploded.

I don't think I ever had an orgasm so intense. Maybe it was all the waiting, or the fact that it was Nick, pushing me to the land of bliss, maybe just the length of time it's been since I've had any kind of sex with another man... I felt like it lasted for at least two minutes. Nick let me ride every last wave of my orgasm, never pulling away, letting me come down while lapping my juices with his tongue. When eventually he did pull away, my wetness was all evident on his face, and he never looked hotter. I carefully removed my leg from his shoulder, and pulled him up to me by the back of his hair. His hands snaked around my waist as he kissed me, making me taste myself on his lips. His tongue made its way into my mouth, dancing with mine as I ran my fingers through the back of his hair.

'You're so fucking beautiful,' he mumbled against my lips when pulling away to catch his breath. As I came to my senses, I suddenly realized that Nick was still wearing his jeans, and by the hardness pressing against my abdomen, I'm sure it couldn't be comfortable for him.

I ran a hand down to his back, feeling his muscles clench under my fingers, which made me feel hot again instantly. My other hand made his way down his chest, finding his half-undone belt and successfully finishing the job. My lips moved down along his chin, finding his neck, and running my tongue along it. I needed to use both of my hands to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, but when I finally did it, Nick sighed in relief. Without taking it off, I dipped one of my hands in his Calvin Klein boxers, and closed my fingers around his manhood.

He was rock hard and honestly I had no idea how he was still in control of everything. I felt the veins on his shaft throbbing against my palm. I needed to taste him, but as soon as I started lowering myself to the ground, Nick's strong hands caught me by the elbow and stopped me from moving.

'I want to taste you,' I whined pulling my lips from his body so I could look him in the eyes, his cock in my mouth being the main thing on my mind. I told him before how much I liked giving blowjobs, he knew well that I didn't just want to do it because I thought of it as an expectation from me.

'I know, and believe me, I really want your sweet little mouth around me too,' he nodded swallowing as he lowered his gaze to my lips. 'But I also want this to last pretty long and that's just not going to happen with you sucking my dick like a good little whore.' I looked at him for a moment, a little bit taken aback by the rawness of words. I never thought I was one for dirty talk, yet as Nick pronounced the words, they did not feel that dirty at all. They were just something that made the wetness start pooling between my legs once again. Nick waited patiently for my reaction to his words, but when I wasn't cringing or grimacing, he seemed pretty satisfied with himself. I had no idea how he had this restraint, how he wasn't going crazy yet. 'Later, I promise.'

I nodded without thinking, not really seeing a point in arguing with him on this. Instead, I connected our lips again, as Nick took his pants and underwear off, letting it fall on the floor to the pool of our clothes. However, I did not remove my hand from his hard shaft, running it along his length, until the moment he swatted it away after moaning in my mouth.

'Jump.' As much as I felt like opposing, I wasn't in the state to deny anything from Nick, so I just jumped, our naked parts finally pushing against each other, though not in the way I really-really wanted them to.

Walking into one of the bedrooms, he laid me down to the huge bed, our lips not leaving each other for a second. Nick was the only thing on my mind, just like he wanted to be. All I could think about was the heat radiating from his body, the feeling of his stubble under my fingertips, the hairs of his thigh tickling my smooth skin. The need for him stronger and stronger in my lower region. And the way he touched me so possessively, yet so gently that made my heart throb for him even more.

He lowered me onto the bed gently, then while he was kneeling on the mattress, pulled back, looking down onto me, examining every part of my body. I should've felt insecure, or awkward, yet I didn't even try to cover up my not so beautiful parts.

It was like my subconscious trusted Nick so much that it didn't see the need to feel shame at all. Like I was giving myself to him fully, completely on a whole new physical and psychological level.

Nick's dark orbs ran along my body, exploring every inch, every curve. He wasn't touching me at all, yet I felt like he was crawling inside of me. As much as I used to hate certain parts, like the lines on my sides or my way too wide thighs, even my larger than normal breasts, as Nick's eyes were glistering with lust while examining them, I instantly found myself growing a newfound liking for those parts.

I tried to read his eyes as he was towering over me, they were quite talkative. They were full of lust, need, contempt, and a few other emotions that I couldn't put my finger on.

I mirrored his actions, looking down on his body that I still found amazing. He was exactly like I've wanted my man muscular but not too much, hairy but not too much.

'Nick...' I moaned, suddenly reminded of my need for him as his eyes dropped to between my legs. Nick shook his head, like he was shaken out of trans, then he immediately leaned down above me, connecting our lips once again.

I kissed him hungrily, my hands crawling onto his shoulder muscles, pulling him as close as possible. Meanwhile he pushed one of his thighs upwards, rubbing it against my heat and making me immediately moan against his lips. He made me feel such lust and need that I've never felt before. My skin was burning everywhere we touched and every other part of me felt cold compared to it. I was going crazy, not being able to concentrate on anything else but him, his body pushed against mine, his hand on my breast, his lips sucking on the skin of my neck.

I wanted him inside of me, needed him inside of me. He was right, these past weeks made me even crazier, my longing for him got worse, all I could concentrate was the things he was doing to my body and mind.

My breath got caught in my throat as Nick rubbed his thigh against my sensitive parts even harder. I was sure that my wetness was all over him, not that he seemed to mind it at all. As I unintentionally pushed my nails into his muscular back, scratching his skin, Nick groaned, biting my neck just above my vein, making me gasp.

'Hands above your head,' he said, and the authority was evident in his voice even in his current state. As much as I hated letting go of him, I did exactly as he commanded, raising both of my hands above my head and trying to find a hold on the silk sheets.

Nick seemed satisfied as he returned to sucking onto my neck and making me moan in need for him. I could feel the smirk ok his face as he kissed down to my chest, replacing his hand on my hard nipple with his lips. As his teeth grazed the sensitive buds, I felt like I was going crazy.

I was a moaning mess by that point, and I was grateful that nobody but Nick could hear me. As his fingers pushed against my clit again, my body tensed against him and I couldn't stop my hands from finding their way into his hair again.

'Milla,' Nick groaned and pulled away from my breasts, raising his glance to mine. His eyes were clouded, darker than usual, and his expression was clearly unimpressed with my misdemeanor. 'Behave.'

'I can't, I need you,' I whined, not making any effort to remove my hands from his hair. I was hungry for him, for every touch and his now still fingers on my most sensitive part didn't really help. I instinctively ground against him, trying to create some friction to ease my need.

Nick was not happy, his expression was strict and he instantly removed his fingers from between my legs. The desperate whine got caught in my throat in the next moment at the unexpected slap on my ass - a part that he had great access to given that my leg was wrapped around his torso.

I was a bit shocked, my face turned into a frown, but as the sweet burning sensation took over the place of the painful sting, I found myself wanting more. It was turning me on - even though I didn't think that there was more place for me to be turned on. Nick carefully examined my face, waiting for my reaction, but when I reached up to him and reconnected our lips, I could feel him relax against me.

Kissing Nick was like finding myself in a completely different world, where nothing existed but the softness of his lips, his stubble grazing my face and his sweet taste on my tongue. It was easy to forget about everything else and just pulling him as close to me as possible.

I was reminded of his feelings about my disobedience with another sting on my behind, this one even harder than the previous one, making me moan into his mouth.

'Don't make me tie those hands,' he groaned, his voice raspy, full with passion. The next moment he removed my hands from his hair, and held them above my head, this time not letting them go.

'Please Nick,' I moaned, feeling his erection press against my abdomen. I physically didn't feel able to hold on much longer, every inch of my body was burning, and the need concentrated in my core.

Nobody has ever made me feel like this, such a mess, so hungry for pleasure. I really felt like I was going to explode in seconds from all of the feelings, especially if Nick kept on torturing me any longer.

'Please what?' he asked, pulling a bit back, only to be able to look into my eyes. He was enjoying this, I could tell, even if he was just as hungry for me as I was for him.

'I need you,' I moaned, not impressed with our current situation. I tensed against him, as Nick was holding my wrists strongly above my head I wasn't able to touch him. One of my legs was still wrapped around his torso though, but tightening that hold only meant that his hardness would press harder against my abdomen - so close yet so far from where I wanted him to be.

'You need me where?' he asked, and I hated that he was still able to hold onto the control. Nick was enjoying this way too much, he was making me say it out loud.

'Inside of me,' I said, squirming under him, my hard nipples pushing against his chest. 'Please- please fuck me.'

I didn't even care that I was begging to be fucked like a whore. I just needed him and I couldn't think of anything else. The only things I could concentrate was the burn between my legs, his firm hold on my wrists, his chest hairs tickling my breasts and his hard erection pushing against me.

Nick rearranged his pose, so he was keeping my wrists in their place by holding them both in one hand and pulled away with his whole body slightly. Just as I was about to complain, I felt his erection against my clit and I forgot to breathe for a moment.

I raised my head, trying to see our lower parts. Nick didn't push in yet, he was keeping his manhood pushed against my throbbing core, moving it along my slit, making my lower body instinctively squirm against him. He seemed so big against me.

I've seen Nick naked before, I knew that he was blessed with a relatively big size, but somehow it never even crossed my mind that I will need to be able to take his size inside of me. Not that I was worried at all, I was sure that I was so wet and so ready for him that it wouldn't really be a problem. Still, seeing him push against me, making me even more crazy than before, I was just a tiny bit afraid of the pain.

'Eyes on me, Kamilla,' he ordered and I dropped my head back on the mattress, reconnecting our glances. By that point my body was squirming constantly and I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. 'I want to see you when I take you.'

It was so incredibly hot, his raspy voice, the way he was still in control of not just himself but me too. His eyes were cloudy, and it took a moment for me to recognize the emotion in them: primal thirst. Even though it wasn't possible, I wanted him even more.

'Nick–' I started when he still wouldn't quit teasing, but then a loud moan slipped out of my mouth the moment I felt the stretch as he finally pushed in. I wanted to close my eyes, just until I adjusted, but his gaze held mine captive as he pulled out, then pushed back in again, much deeper this time. My lips parted as my body tensed at the long-felt feeling.

It was like my body didn't know what to feel, so I felt everything at once. The stretching feeling was quite uncomfortable given that it's been a long while since I've had sex, and thanks to Nick's massive size, I'd say that it was even painful at first. At the same time every inch of my body was on fire, I was hungry for him and I wanted him even deeper. I was so close to coming, but still so far, it didn't make sense at all.

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from wincing as Nick pulled out for the second time, only to fill me up completely a second later. An animalistic groan escaped him, I imagine everything must've been so tight for him. Even though he was waiting for this for months now, and he was just as gone, wanting to come as I was, he stayed completely still.

'Shhh,' he hushed when he felt my body tense against him and placed his free hand onto my waist, drawing small circles on my skin. He leaned his forehead against mine, still looking so deeply into my eyes that I felt like he could see into my soul. 'Are you okay?' he asked, sincerely, and I was sure that if I told him 'no', he'd pull out and wouldn't blame me for a moment, even if it physically pained him.

'Move,' I asked quietly, because even though I was in some pain, the lust for him was much bigger. Nick kept my gaze for a few moments longer, his fingers never stopping their calming movement on my hip. I pulled him closer with my leg still wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to move. He closed the distance between us, connecting our lips and only when I kissed him back hungrily did he start moving.

The first few thrusts were quite painful, but as I grew accustomed to his size stretching me so deeply, the ache for him was back. When his fingers slipped down to my clit from my waist, I couldn't even remember the pain anymore. He knew exactly what he was doing, I was so close to coming that I had to hold myself back.

'Stop doing that.' Of course, he noticed, and that's when I remembered tonight's rule: to come as many times as possible. 'Let go,' he commanded and with the next, particularly deep thrust and his fingers still circling with my clit, I was gone.

I exploded against him, and I could feel my walls pulsing around his manhood, making Nick groan and drop his head to the crook of my neck. I saw stars, I was coming so hard that I even forgot to breathe. Nick never slowed down, he kept his rhythm and let me ride my orgasm out completely, while he – not so softly – bit the side of my shoulder.

'Fuck,' I moaned at the sharp pain, but Nick was way past the state to care. He was marking me as his, and even though I was sure I'd have some difficulties in the next few days to cover up all the marks, they were a huge turn on for me.

The next moment Nick pulled out of me, only to turn me slightly on my side and reenter me again, making me scream at the sensation. He felt even bigger this way, stretching me all the way.

'So fucking deep,' he groaned, one of his hands still holding my wrists in their place, while the other pushing into my thigh to keep me in the pose he wanted. He was close, I could tell. Sweat was beading on his forehead, he was getting a bit sloppy. All that could be heard in the room were my moans, his animalistic groans and our skins slapping against each other.

He took a hard rhythm, not soft at all and he wasn't slowing down. I was whimpering, my lady parts still sensitive from my orgasm, but Nick's rhythmical thrusts made me want even more. Somehow I managed to free my hand, but the moment I touched his upper arm, I was greeted with a sharp sting of his palm against my ass.

The feeling was even more intense with him inside of me, and Nick must've noticed my walls contracting around his shaft as well. He didn't try to get my hand back into its place, rather he spanked me a few more times, getting me close to coming again.

'Nick, I–' I moaned, turning my face so I could kiss him again. He felt it too.

'With me,' he groaned and with the last of his stamina, he sped his thrusts up even more, sending me over the edge a third time that night and following me a moment later with a deep grunt.

I felt him twitching and then filling me up with his everything, which was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome sensation. With a last thrust Nick collapsed above me, laying his weight on my body completely.

I felt owned. I shouldn't have enjoyed it, I shouldn't have felt good about being marked, about Nick coming inside of me. In my life, I've always been an independent woman, but with him everything was different. The bite marks on my neck, the hickeys on my chest, the palm prints on my ass, the semen running down my legs... It all should've repulsed me, yet they just made me want Nick even more.

It took him a few minutes to gather himself and pull out of me, leaving me feeling empty. He didn't go far though, only to get a cloth and clean us both up a little. Then he laid back beside me and pulled me onto his chest.

'I get it now,' I mumbled against his chest as he ran a hand through my hair.

'Get what, Dear?' he asked quietly. I turned my head to be able to look at his face.

'This is what it's supposed to feel like,' I explained, referring back to one of our old conversations when Nick said that I clearly have never had great sex or I'd know what I'm missing.

'Actually, no,' he shook his head softly. 'This isn't what it's supposed to feel like.'

'What do you mean?' I frowned.

'This was... I never felt anything like this,' Nick admitted. I looked at him for a long moment, then leaned closer in order to connect our lips. So it wasn't just me. 'I don't know what this was, but you and me...' he left the end of the sentence hanging. I could finish it in my head just fine.

...were made for each other.

#Nick Jonas #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick jonas imagine #nick x reader #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

Text

Little Blue

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Summary: A wild party ends with traumatic events for your best friend but as the night continues you realise just how much your support has always meant to him.

Genre: One-shot / Triggering topics / Friends to Lovers!au / College!au / Smut / Angst / Fluff

Trigger warnings: Drug use (spiked drink but not with roofies) / Sexual assault / Attempted rape (no actual rape) / Violence (someone gets punched)

Warnings: Unprotected sex (you know the deal, wrap it up) / Finger foreplay / Ever so slight female cum play / cumshot (pearl necklace) / Language

Word Count: 5.5k

Notes: This was a request I had serious anxiety about and wasn’t sure whether to do or not but after some careful consideration, I decided to take a serious route with it and use it to bring awareness of these situations, the repercussions and the aftermath. I wanted to highlight how these topics (that happen everyday all over the world) can be, not just for male victims but all victims. That they are serious and wrong, no matter who the affected party are and that it is the victims choice how they deal with it after these types of horrible events transpire. Please do you not read if you think you will be affected by any of the warnings.

Here are some links for anyone who has been affected by the type of events that are written about in this story:

http://www.nationaldahelpline.org.uk/ https://rapecrisis.org.uk/ https://www.victimsupport.org.uk/ https://www.rainn.org/statistics/victims-sexual-violence https://www.survivorsuk.org/ Most of these are English links but they have a lot of helpful information in them. The last link is specifically for male victims.

Beta read by @unoriginal-username15432 Thank you so much for all your help and confidence boosting when I came to you an absolute wreck, you’re amazing. Thank you to @ditttiii @moccahobi @sugarly-laysa @joheun-saram for reading and giving me feedback and encouragement to do this right. Your help and support means the world to me 😘

You watch as Veronica slips a little blue tablet into a drink, looking on as it fizzes wildly in a spiral, inside the see-through glass.

I had no idea she was a pill popper. That would explain a lot.

Staring after her as she carries two drinks into the living room, beyond my view, swaying her hips confidently with a smug grin stretched across her full mouth. At least, you hoped the pill was for her.

Which poor, unsuspecting soul would be her victim?

You would have to keep two watchful eyes on her tonight, as much as the thought pained you of having her not only in your sights but in your mind, it was necessary to hinder whatever evil she was plotting today.

Hating Veronica was easy. Avoiding her was not. Not only was she an unremarkably, average student at your university, she also seemed to be at every party. That stumped you however, as you had yet to meet a single person who genuinely liked her.

Her personality consisted of bullying, harassment and being the worst spoilt princess. She always got what she wanted, one way or another and she enjoyed making other people suffer in the process.

"Hey, y/n?" Hoseok’s voice calls out, lighting up your dark thoughts. He has that ability, like a gift from the sun itself. Turning and raising an eyebrow in expectation at his question.

"Have you seen Jungkook?" He asks, closing the distance between you, bringing his sunshine smile and almost blinding you with it.

Shaking your head, you reply, "No, not for a while actually." That was unlike him, usually, your best friend was glued to your hip, you were inseparable, especially at parties like this.

"We're betting which one of us will be the first to get laid tonight, we want him in on it." He babbles excitedly and with that he enveloped the sun with a dark cloud, as you’re reminded how clichéd horny, young adults can be.

Rolling your eyes, you down your drink, wincing at the burn as the fiery liquid cascades down your throat. You welcome the numbness that follows and it makes you forget the things you should be doing. The idea of Jungkook hooking up with anyone, now overtaking your gin hazed brain, turning your insides into snakes as they churn relentlessly in the pit of your stomach.

"I can't find him anywhere. He didn't leave, did he?" He shrugs, continuing his alcohol induced thoughts when you don’t respond.

Swallowing the snakes down, keeping your secret down along with them. "I don’t think so, I'll go see if I can find him."

Hoseok nods. "Thanks." He said as he heads off with a grin, taking the sunshine and leaving you dulled by the implication of his words.

You survey the living room, only his face in your mind as you frantically scan the crowd.

With no sign of him, you head out and away from the noise that feels like a ruthless power tool, ramming itself repeatedly into your brain.

You climb the stairs, each step causing your anxiety to grow as a thousand images of what you might find race through your mind. Even when you blink, you can still see them behind your closed eyes, like a projector flickering a private tortuous movie just for you.

Checking the upstairs bathroom, you find a girl draped over the toilet, her head in the bowl, heaving the contents of her liquid stomach and unleashing it with force. Quickly closing the door, for your sake and hers, you continue onto the other rooms.

Please, don’t let me find him in any of these rooms with another girl. Please, don’t let my dreams and wild fantasies evaporate instantly before my eyes.

You pray to yourself as you scan the empty rooms filled with darkness and focus on the ones with closed doors and invisible ‘no entry’ signs.

Muffling an apology to a couple entwined in the sheets and with each other, a mess of limbs and moans as you quickly retreat and continue on. Unease sitting in the pit of your stomach, growing with each move you make forward, with one less room to check.

It’s not until you hear muffled talking in one of the end rooms, the pit turns into a volcano, threatening to erupt. You listen at the door, hoping it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s voice you heard whispering through the grainy, wooden barrier between you.

Your hopes were dashed, when you hear him cry out, “No, let me go!” You would recognise the sound of him in distress anywhere. Your body alights like a beacon at the sound of his anguish.

Flinging open the door you freeze, unable to move, unable to do anything except stare at the sight of him on top of a girl, her legs slither and wrap themselves tightly around his waist.

The serpent of temptation. Who was Eden’s evil mistress?

Though the two of them were fully clothed, it didn’t cease to stop your heart from shattering into tiny fragments before the scene and send them darting into the concealed female beneath him. Your eyes burning a hole into her face, covered with her long, dark hair. When she blows it away you feel like all the air in your lungs has been driven out by a ghostly fist.

She’s not supposed to be up here, she’s supposed to be downstairs where I was surveying her. Fuck. Veronica.

Veronica. Little did you know, her unfortunate victim, or poor, unsuspecting soul, as you deemed to refer to him earlier, was none other than Jungkook. Your Jungkook.

Confusion furrows your brow.

He hates her, he hates her as much as you do, so why on earth would he be…

“Come on Kookie, you clearly want me. I can feel your dick, it’s hard as rock.” She whines at him, her tongue hissing sin into his ear with every word. The sound of her poisonous voice makes your blood run hot in your veins.

“What I want is for you to let me go.” He pleads with her, attempting to pull his body away from her but to no avail.

You watch, rooted to the spot. Confusion muddling your mind.

The little blue pill.

Suddenly, it all makes sense and it’s now laughable at how blindingly obvious the answer is.

“No. I want you.” She says hard and firm, her hands snaking under his hoodie, touching his bare skin with her scaly fingers, travelling down to his crotch.

“I don’t want you.” He retorts, through gritted teeth, struggling from the vice grip of her iron clamped calves and halting her hand before it can go further.

“Whats going on?” You hear a hoarse, wavering voice interject. When both their eyes land on you, you realise the words must have escaped your mouth.

Jungkook’s eyes pop when they see you, a deer caught in headlights. Panic stares back at you, alarmed and frantic.

Veronica's legs fall open onto the bed, immediately releasing him from his cage.

He jumps up and over to you, faster than you thought possible, unless it was you who was moving in slow motion. "Y/n, it's not what you think…" He insists, arm on yours, face in your eye-line. Does he think that will stop your angry glare reaching her?

"What I think…" You spit through gritted teeth, as you stalk around the bed. “Is that she’s trying to take advantage of you.”

“Then yes, it’s exactly what you think.” Jungkook says quietly, somewhere behind you. Your eyes are too full of red rage to notice if he’s even still in the room.

She slides herself off the edge of the bed, her bored expression doesn’t fool you. The fact she stands to square up to you, shows you foiled her plan of getting him to bite into that bittersweet fruit.

“This doesn’t concern you, y/n.” She growls, her hands balled up into fists either side of her taut body.

“Did you drug him?”

You wait, watching her reaction. The way her eyes widen for a moment, clearly not expecting your question. The way she no longer meets your eyes with her glare, she can hardly look at you at all, and that’s all you need, to know you’re right.

“W-what?” She stutters, attempting to pick herself back up after faltering.

“You heard me. Did you give Jungkook the drink with the pill in?” You take one last step towards her, your limbs tense and still like stone. Every muscle in your body coiled tight and ready to spring, hands shaking with rage at your sides.

You were so close, her rapidly increased breathing fanned your face, the scent of vodka strong enough to make your eyes water.

Tensing her jaw as she grinds her teeth, her eyes narrowing in disgust at you.

At me!?

“He’s not your boyfriend! And it was just Viagra, jeez! One little blue, that’s all. Why don’t you mind your own business!” She shouts, face red with anger as she shoves you hard on the shoulder.

You steel yourself, so you were ready for the impact,with feet planted firmly into the carpet.

Better luck next time, bitch.

You reel forward, lunging at her, all your power driving your fist into her face. Knuckles smashing into her cheek, hard, as a loud thud echoes across the room. She falls backwards, landing against the bedside cabinet.

Strong arms suddenly encase you, pulling you away.

“Y/n.” Jungkook gasps into your ear but you can hardly hear him through the pounding of blood in your ears, as anger threatens to overtake you completely.

“Drugging someone and trying to force them to have sex with you is attempted rape! You sick bitch.” You scream at her, violently fighting the arms that hold you, furious tears spilling out of your eyes and leaving wet trails down your cheeks in their wake.

“Let’s go, please y/n. I want to go.” He begs. Even though the temptation to pound her face into the ground is almost all consuming, you listen to Jungkook and let him guide you away.

It’s not about me, it’s about him. He’s my priority, not her.

You wipe your damp eyes with your shirt sleeve as you leave the room, hand entwined with his, as he leads you away, down the stairs and out of the house. Not a second glance to anyone.

Once outside in the cool, crisp air you can feel your head start to clear, your fury dies down into fierce concern for your friend.

“Hey, you ok?” You squeeze his hand.

He nods, looking mournfully at the ground. “I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to ruin the party.”

Your heels stop in their tracks as you tug on his arm and spin him to face you. Cupping his cheek and forcing him to meet your gaze, “It’s a dumb party, they’ll be plenty of others. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s her who should be sorry.” You practically growl.

The corners of his mouth pull up in a slight smile. “Thank you for sticking up for me...and for being there for me, always.”

You squeeze his hand again and continue walking. “You want to stay at mine tonight?”

He nods, eyes back on the ground.

You both walk along in silence for a few moments. He rubs roughly at his face and asks, “How did you know she drugged me?”

“I saw her slip a pill into a drink. She disappeared and I was looking for you, I put two and two together once I found you.” You look over at his solemn expression. “What happened?”

“She bought me over a drink, it was uncharacteristic but I thought maybe she was just trying to be nice. She left me to it, so I drank it. I started to feel...something, so I went upstairs into the bedroom and she burst in. She straddled me and pushed me onto the bed but when I rolled over to get up, she pinned me with her legs.” He scratches the back of his neck as you head up the stone steps in your apartment building. “I didn’t know what to do, I wanted her off me but I didn’t want to get physical and hurt her. It was kind of scary.”

Your heart felt heavy with empathy for him, like a rock slowly sinking down into the pit of your stomach, but with it rose the anger in your belly.

If you didn’t hate Veronica with burning passion before, you certainly did now.

She will pay for this. I will destroy her reputation and make her life hell, for Jungkook.

She should be arrested and rot in a cell, but it is not your place to do it.

Besides, if you knew anything about Jungkook, you had a feeling he just wanted to move on and forget about it. You, however, could hold a grudge for a millennium.

You unlock your front door and head into the kitchen, relief of being back in your apartment floods you and flows like waves through your limbs.

Jungkook heads off to the living room.

As you boil the kettle, tea being the cure for every possible mood or trauma in your family, you peek out at him.

Where you usually find his muscular branches draped all over your couch, quite content, today was a different story. He sat awkwardly looking out the window, knee’s shaking and hands constantly wiping down his thighs, palms rubbing against the rough material.

Once they’re done, you place the two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table and join him on the sofa. Wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his shoulder, this wasn’t an unusual action between the two of you but today... he flinched under your touch.

Gently, he removes your hands and slid himself to the opposite end, grabbing a pillow and cradling it in his lap. His eyes fixed onto your woven rug, as if it held all the answers he was searching for.

Although you tried not to let it get to you, you couldn’t completely ignore the pain in your chest from his rejection. Even if you wholly understood why.

He’s been through something major tonight and he was bound to be feeling a mixture of emotions right now, it still hurt not to be able to comfort him like you yearned to.

“Y/n,” His quiet voice whispers into the silence. Cheeks flushed, knuckles white from his grip on the pillow, as he leans forward, burning a hole into your floor. You angle your body towards him and wait.

“How long...until...the pill...wears off?” He asks so quietly, you have to strain towards him to hear.

Heat inflames your cheeks as you’re hit with the realisation that Jungkook is sitting, at arm's length away from you, with a very solid erection.

You instantly clamp your thighs shut to try and halter the intense throbbing in between your legs. Your core ablaze with liquid heat, as you try to push the image out of your mind, now was, absolutely, not the time. “Um, I’m not sure.”

He looks up at you, with eyes so intense they bore right into you, every thought you’ve had, every secret laid bare and for a moment you want to tell him, you want to tell him what you desire more than anything. But you break the stare and find yourself closing off once again.

“Why don’t we do something to take your mind off it?” You ask, not sure if your question was for his benefit or yours. “I could put on a film? Or we could play some video games?”

“Video games sound good.”

You rush over to the playstation, grabbing two controllers and bringing the console to life with the tap of a button.

Letting out your drawn-in breath, relieved to have something to distract you both from the penis in the room, you use this time of setting up the game to calm your racing heart and try to extinguish the unwanted thoughts that have come to life in your mind. The what if’s and maybe’s are not a road you should be exploring, not if you wanted to keep Jungkook in your life.

Your turn to hand him a controller but as you do, your foot catches on the edge of the rug and you feel yourself falling forward, grabbing anywhere that you can to stop yourself from smashing face first into your hardwood floor.

You manage to grip onto something; his hoodie, whilst his hand, thankfully, finds your elbow and steady's you.

Straightening yourself up and being only inches away from jungkook, you find yourself lost in a daydream of what might be. His scent swirled everywhere, fresh like the outdoors, as if you were standing in a meadow with the green breeze caressing your face and encircling you in a floral cage.

Your eyes roam up to his face. When his tongue shot out, wetting his mouth, you couldn’t help but pull in your bottom lip and pinch it between your teeth. All your blood raced down to your core, igniting a heat there that had you breathing hard. No, now is not the time to make your confession.

When your eyes finally met his, you were taken aback by the fever in them, as you stared deeper into his ebony pools, you could almost feel yourself drowning in desire.

He reaches up to your cheek and gently trails his fingertip down, stroking your moist lips. You let out a whimper, unable to hold it in, but still trying to keep your feelings enclosed in the prison you built for them long ago.

“Jungkook, I—”

His lips are on yours, smothering your important words down into a pit of lust but as your tongue dances hungrily with his, it’s not your words that feel important anymore.

His strong hands are on your back, pulling you to him, warmth from his touch searing through your clothes but you want more, need more.

You grab his top and pull him even closer, your wild mouths a clash of tongue and teeth. His solid erection pressed against your lower stomach is enough to make your core throb with violent need.

Is this right? Considering recent traumatic events, this felt wrong. This is not what this moment was supposed to feel like.

He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air and clarity. “Y/n, tell me if you don’t want this. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’ll understand.”

He searches your face vehemently, looking for the source of your hesitation.

“I do, I really do but are you sure you want to do this?” I press. “I want to be here for you, with everything that’s happened, I just want to make sure you’re ok?” You insist.

He meets your eyes again, pleading with you. “I want you, y/n. I need you. I don’t want to think about what happened tonight anymore. I’m ok, honestly.” He smiles at you, the sight pulls on your heart and has it doing wild somersaults in your chest. “I want this.” He brings his forehead to yours, the moment so gentle you wanted to hold him close and never let go.

You hesitantly lift your mouth to his; wondering and worrying that you’ve fallen asleep at Hoseok’s house party and all this will be a dream. His moist lips meet yours in a frenzy and as your core ignites like dynamite, slowly, you start to return his hunger. Easing yourself against him, you loosen into the kiss, your concern gradually falls away along with the walls you spent years building to hide your devotion for him.

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer still. You break the kiss once again to lift his t-shirt off, over his head in one fluid movement, desperate to see and feel underneath. You run your hand over the smooth planes of his chest and the bumpy muscles down his stomach, moaning in sheer appreciation.

Finally, you can show him what he means to you and how he makes you feel inside.

Your hands find their way to his belt, yanking the leather open and whipping it out of his belt loops, making a loud crack echo through the room.

His eyes gawk widely at you, surprise glittered in them. His chest moving fast from his rapid breaths, as he closes the slight distance between you and fumbles with the top button on your shirt, giving up quickly and wrenching the material apart, buttons flying and tapping as they scatter the floor all around.

His hands are on your breasts, massaging, tugging them out of your bra, cool air hitting them, making your nipples pucker into hard buds. He unclasps your bra with one hand, yanking it off aggressively.

“God, y/n.” He lets out a tortured whine. Before his mouth is around your nipple and all you can feel is warm and wet slowly sucking pleasure out of you.

The noises that escape your lips shock even you.

His hands run up the length at the back of your thighs, your feet coming out from under you as he carries you to the bedroom, with your legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

Your hands finger through his silky hair, lips on his face, throat, whatever skin they can find.

Your back finds the bed as he climbs on top, towering over you, and all you can see is Jungkook. He glows like the large moon on an inky night, finding you and giving you some semblance of relief from the relentless darkness.

You're at the button of his trousers, popping it open and pushing them down his strong thighs with your feet.

He gives you a lingering kiss that then trails quickly past your bare chest and down your stomach.

Pushing your skater skirt up so it fans out across your ribs, he hooks a finger under the hem of your pale, pink panties and looks up at you with a questioning gaze. All you can do is eagerly nod your head in response, giving him permission.

He slowly peels away the lace that covers you, when the air hits you can feel just how wet you are, a coolness spreading across your exposed folds.

This is it, everything I've fantasised about during lonely nights with wandering fingers or meaningless hookups with nameless men, picturing his face and his hands instead.

He moans, biting his lip as he stares at your most intimate area with insatiable hunger.

His fingers sliding their way from your entryway to your swollen bud, the moment he touches it your body jolts with delight.

His digits slide into you before you have a chance to catch your breath, beckoning inside you, stroking the rough spot that sends shudders of pleasure throughout your body.

He sucks in a sharp breath with a hiss. “You’re so fucking wet, y/n.” He groans, jutting his hips against the bed. “I need you, so bad.”

He withdraws his fingers, making you feel empty and even more needy. Your body alight with electric lust and your heart aching with unspoken love.

What if this ruins everything? What if he’s only using me, in his current situation?...Honestly, do I really care?

You didn’t. Not in this moment, watching him lick your arousal off his digits as he pulls out his generous erection. The tip pink and angry, begging to be touched and glistening with precum.

He was your living fantasy and he was perfectly acting out every scene you’d created in your mind.

You grip his big shoulders, fingernails making crescent moons in his skin, and pull him down onto you. Your legs wind around him, pushing him to line up to your slick entrance as his eyes boar hungrily into yours.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, his stare searching for an answer to an unasked question but you don't want to think about regrets or repercussions right now.

“You ok?” You ask, breathless.

He nods, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Using your feet against the top of his thighs, you push him into you, answering with actions instead of words.

He moves slow, allowing both of you to savour the feeling. Bolts of pleasure shooting through you, like lightning illuminating the night sky.

Your walls stretching over him is truly euphoric, a moment you have waited years for, as he slides deep into you, reaching everywhere possible.

"Oh my god." He exclaims when he's leveled in you. "Fuck, you feel incredible."

His words cause a shiver of added need through you, your hips start rocking and rotating under him on their own, you’re blind with lust, heat encasing every part of your body.

All you can smell, feel, think is him. He is your undoing and you're more than ready to be undone.

He groans loudly as you writhe under him, encouraging him to move, pleading with him to move.

He slowly retracts his hips, anticipation causing you to quiver before plunging deep and hard, tearing a gasp from your throat with each thrust.

“Holy shit, Jungkook!”

He smirks at you. The sight is enough to make you clench around him, causing him to jolt and groan, biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood.

He moves onto his knees, tilting your pelvis higher and as he glides back into you, he reaches new places, new depths, new pleasures.

His thumb finds his way to your sensitive button as he massages it with your slick arousal.

Your body is on fire, his touch igniting a trail behind him.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge, torn between being eager to jump off into the precipice but not wanting the journey to end yet.

“I want you to make you cum.” He whispers, as his punishing rhythm on your swollen bud builds the pressure deep down inside you.

The sounds coming from your mouth don’t sound like they belong to you, they’re desperate, needy sounds, full of bliss and torture at once.

He bucks into you, hitting that sweet spot with each forceful thrust, your legs trembling around him as you gasp for air. Incoherent words escorted by his name, stumble off your lips as he incessantly thrums on your clit.

“Cum for me.” He whispers again, his eyes watching your face with fascination.

At his words, your body jolts and back arches as your orgasm ripples through you, sending waves of pleasure cascading around your nerves.

Every fibre of your being alight with electric thrill.

Your loud moans echo, filling your bedroom, as you grind against his rock hard dick while your walls clench tightly around him.

“Shit, y/n!” He exclaims, as he abruptly withdraws from you and spurts his warm, liquid lust across your stomach while his fist gently milks him.

Your pulsating core eases, replaced with tingling satisfaction as you try to even out your rapid breaths.

He collapses on the bed beside you, pants mimicking yours.

But as you come down from your high, floating back to earth and reality, a rock lands in the pit of your stomach.

You just had sex with your best friend. Your best friend, who you have been in love with since you were kids, unbeknown to him.

What the fuck do I do now? Where do we go from here?

A wave of nausea washes over you as your mind is filled with an all consuming dread.

As a million thoughts race through your crowded mind on how to try and save your friendship, he brings over a flannel and starts gently wiping his orgasm off of you, being so attentive you want to cry.

All the years of holding in your feelings and unspoken words, the love for him blooming inside you like a flowery meadow in spring, now threatens to overflow and spill out revealing you.

When he returns, climbing back onto the bed, he angles himself to the side and props himself up on his elbow, facing you.

His fingertips skate across your stomach, tracing small circles and sending goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You look up at his perfect face, innocent eyes meeting yours and you’re overwhelmed by how much you just want to protect him and keep him safe from anything that hurts him.

You put your arms around him, hugging him tightly, as if that will be enough to fix it all.

I wish.

"I won’t ever let anything happen to you again.” You say against his chest.

His fingers come up, stroking your hair softly. “I know, thank you, for being there for me. I will always protect you too, you know that.”

You feel him kiss the top of your head and sigh. “Y/n, about what just happened.

Oh no, here it comes. I have to do something, I have to protect myself from what he’s about to say.

"Kook, listen," You cut him off, before he could tell you what you were dreading to hear; that it was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgement, a friend helping out another friend.

If you hear those words, you don't think you could hold back the emotion that's currently pricking at your eyes.

I need to take control of this situation. Hopefully, I can salvage some part of this friendship.

You take a deep breath, preparing the words, when his finger on your lips catches you off guard.

"How about you listen," he raises an eyebrow, challenging you. When you close your mouth, he continues, "I have waited for this moment for a long time, so however you're about to shoot me down, could it wait until tomorrow? So I can at least enjoy this feeling of pretending what might have been."

There's a sadness in his eyes as he speaks, a pleading in them.

His words run over and over in your mind, while you try to reason with yourself that he can't possibly feel the way you think.

Surely, he can't mean he has feelings for me? I can't afford to give myself hope with that thought.

You swallow it down, along with any words that were fighting to come up.

You watch his hand, his fingertips tickling faint lines up to your chest, making your nipples pucker in response, they finally come to rest against your lips, tracing the edges.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, "One last time."

Last!? It can't be the last time, we've only just started.

It can't be the last time I'll ever get to feel his soft lips against mine.

I can't go back to pretending not to want more, not to care, not to love him so much it kills me inside. Like a poisonous ivy plant squeezing my lungs and capturing my heart, I've had a taste of what it's like to live and breath free of that, with vibrant tiger flowers blooming in place of it and I don't want to stop feeling this way.

You find yourself leaning up and crushing your lips to his.

He's frozen with surprise for a moment, before his hands wind around your waist, scooping you up and pressing onto you, bodies almost one.

His lips trail down your neck.

"Jungkook?"

"Hmm." He moans into your throat, the vibration making you shudder.

"I don't want it to be the last time." You hear the words escaping your mouth, as if you're watching from the outside and no longer in control of yourself.

His head snaps up, doe-eyed and mouth shaped in a little o. "You don't?"

You shake your head. "Not at all."

He beams at you, taking your face in his hands and touching his lips to yours so passionately, it brings all your emotion flying to the surface.

"God, y/n, I am so in love with you, I have been for years." he smiles against your lips and you can't help but mirror it in response. "Please, put me out of my misery and tell me you feel the same."

You can feel his hands shaking against your face and suddenly feel incredibly stupid for not realising his feelings sooner.

Who would have thought? Not me, clearly.

"I do. I definitely do." You pull him behind the neck, bringing him down to you, so close not even a sheet of paper could get between your skins.

As you kiss, tongues dancing wildly together, hot and hungry for each other.

His body weighing down on you, making you crazy with desire again.

"I want you." You say between kisses.

"You can have me as much as you want, I'm yours." He says, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours. "Besides, that pill hasn't worn off yet."

Arousal shoots down to your core like a bullet at his words.

You push him, flipping him over and straddling his muscular body. "Well, lets see what we can do to take care of that."

As you lean down to kiss him once again, knowing that...he's mine. And I'm his.

#thebtswritersclub #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bangtan #bangtan army #bangtan seonyeondan #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan fanfics #bangtan fanfiction #requests #bts army

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eddieeatsass · 4 years ago

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Leave Me Breathless

Summary: "Eddie had been standing in his foyer for over twenty minutes trying to leave. As per usual, his mother was trying to find any excuse to keep him home. She'd reluctantly agreed to let him go to today's festivities, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to fight him every step of the way. A car honked outside, signaling his ride and his savior. He breathed a sigh of relief at his torment finally being over." Pairing: Reddie Rating: M Read On AO3

"Do you have your inhaler?"

"Yes mom."

"And your pills?"

"Yes mom."

"And you have my number? And the number for poison control? And the one for the hospital? And-"

Eddie had been standing in his foyer for over twenty minutes trying to leave. As per usual, his mother was trying to find any excuse to keep him home. She'd reluctantly agreed to let him go to the wedding today, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to fight him every step of the way.

A car honked outside, signaling his ride and his savior. He breathed a sigh of relief at his torment finally being over.

"Sorry mom, Bill's here, gotta go!" Eddie rushed out of his house before Sonia could get another word in, bounding down the walkway towards the red Ford Fiesta.

Bill let out a slow whistle at the sight of Eddie's attire. Eddie simply rolled his eyes, getting into the front seat and trying to ignore the buzzing anxiety that laid just under his skin.

Bill noted Eddie's apprehension and reached over with a reassuring pat to his leg.

"Don't worry, Sonia suspects nothing."

"Yeah Eds, don't sweat it sweet cheeks." Richie's voice projected from the backseat.

It was slightly muffled from where he laid under a blanket, completely covered up in case Sonia had decided to follow Eddie out to the car.

When Eddie had asked his mom if he could go to a wedding, he hadn't been entirely honest about its whereabouts. As far as Sonia was concerned, Eddie was just tagging along as a friend to Bill's aunt's wedding. But in reality, Eddie was Richie's date to his cousin's nuptial.

Given that Sonia hated Richie more than any of Eddie's other friends, he'd figured using Bill as a scapegoat was his best bet.

Bill was silent as he pulled out of Eddie's driveway, waiting until he got around the corner to finally erupt into victorious laughter.

"We did it! We fooled the troll!"

"Oooh what's on the other side of the bridge!?" Richie cheered, flinging the blanket off himself and straightening up. He finally got a look at Eddie for the first time and his eyes widened like saucers.

“A beautiful maiden, apparently.” Richie answered himself.

“Call me a maiden one more time, Trashmouth, I swear to god-”

Eddie was cut off as Richie grabbed his tie to pull him forward, kissing him with enough force to send all complaints out the window. If Richie was gonna kiss him like that, he could call Eddie whatever he wanted.

Bill cleared his throat, reminding the two of them that they weren’t alone.

Eddie pulled away blushingly, shooting an apologetic look to Bill who just smiled.

Their friends had been infinitely supportive of their relationship, even going as far as to help Eddie lie to his mom so he could spend time with Richie. However, the losers had sat them down a couple weeks ago to have a discussion about ‘PDA amongst friends’, and since then Eddie had been making a concise effort to keep things toned down around everyone else.

“So how long did it take you to get out of the house this time?” Richie asked, buckling his seatbelt and settling into the backseat.

Eddie let his eyes roll back into his head as he let out an exhausted groan.

“LIKE TWENTY MINUTES.”

“She’s getting worse.” Bill winced.

“I think she suspects something.” Eddie sighed, slumping down in defeat.

“Do you think she knows we’re dating?” Richie inquired worriedly.

“I don’t think so.”

“Thank god. If Miss K. catches on, that could make it real awkward between us in the bedroom.”

“Richie!”

Bill laughed at their antics, making a right turn and slowing to a stop in front of the library.

Bill hopped out of the car, rounding it to meet Richie where he exited.

“Don’t crash my car.” Bill warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Richie promised.

“Don’t have sex in it either.” Bill added as an afterthought.

“Now that, I already dream of.”

“Richie.”

“I promise! I promise! No fucking in your car!” Richie raised his hands in surrender.

“Thank you. What time will you be back?” Bill asked as he began climbing the steps to the library doors.

“Wedding ends at 9:00.” Eddie answered from his open window.

“Alright, have fun you rascals.” Bill disappeared through the double doors and Richie leaped into the front seat.

“Okay now that Bill is gone can I please kiss the life out of you?” Richie pleaded. He barely waited for Eddie’s response before pulling him in for a searing kiss, drawing it out until Eddie was completely pliant.

Eddie made a noise of contempt when Richie pulled away, but Richie just patted his cheek.

“We don’t wanna be late for the wedding, Eds.” Richie teased.

With a final defeated sigh, Eddie resigned himself to sitting back in his seat as Richie pulled away from the curb, starting towards their destination.

The venue was breath taking, covered head to toe in periwinkle decor. Guests crowded just about every inch of the floor, so it was a miracle they even spotted Richie's parents.

Maggie waved them over with a grin, her warmth always a comfort to Eddie.

Richie's parents had been extremely supportive of the shift in their relationship. Maggie had made sure that Eddie knew he was always welcome in their home, no matter what came of him and Richie's future. Wentworth had been a little less overt about his support, but he had made a comment over dinner one night about how Eddie was a good influence on Richie, so he counted that as a win.

"Don't you both look handsome!" Maggie greeted them as they walked up.

"Glad you could make it, Eddie." Wentworth commented with a curt nod and a smile that seemed genuine.

"I'm glad too." Eddie responded, squeezing Richie's hand where they were connected.

"Richie, dear, why didn't you wear the shirt I picked out for you?" Maggie tsked, adjusting the collar on the shirt he was wearing. Richie swatted her hands away.

"I like this one better." He grumbled, fixing it himself.

Truthfully, Richie would have looked good in any shirt, but Eddie knew he picked this one because Eddie had once mentioned liking it.

The notion that Richie would dress specifically for Eddie did little to relax his racing heartbeat.

The ceremony started not long after they'd arrived. They filed into a room lined with fancy white chairs and claimed seats in the back, separating from Richie's parents who sat a couple rows from the front.

Eddie had been to a few weddings, and they were always the same. He'd prepared himself to sit through an hour of biblical references and awkward vows, so he was surprised when things didn't unfold as usual.

The bride walked down the isle sporting the biggest smile Eddie had ever seen in his life, and she was wearing a pantsuit. She was also covered in tattoos, and half of her head was shaved like Cyndi Lauper, (who was Eddie’s favorite singer despite the fact that Sonia had forbidden him to listen to her). Eddie thought she might be the coolest woman he'd ever seen, next to Beverly, of course.

The groom was a big man, probably tall enough that he needed to duck under doorways. As the bride joined him at the altar, they shared a chaste kiss, which Eddie wasn't even sure was allowed. It made him like them even more.

The ceremony commenced and Eddie could already tell that the man officiating the wedding wasn't a pastor, or at least not like any pastor he'd ever met. The man cracked jokes, went off script, and teased the bride and groom when they fumbled over their words. It gave the entire room a welcoming aura that Eddie sank himself into.

When they began exchanging vows, Eddie found himself getting choked up. They seemed so in love with each other, so happy to be getting married, it made something that had long been frozen in Eddie's heart begin to defrost.

No one in his family had seemed to marry for love. It was usually the product of two lonely people choosing to be lonely together, he’d never seen a wedding that had actual emotion behind it.

He felt Richie squeeze his hand, and when he looked up, he found him already watching Eddie with matching tears in his eyes. Richie didn't cry often, in fact, Eddie could count on his hand the amount of times he'd seen him shed tears. Wordlessly, Richie brought their conjoined hands up to his face and placed a kiss on the back of Eddie's hand.

"I love you." He mouthed, lips brushing against Eddie's hand.

The rest of the room fell away until it was just the two of them, and for the first time since they'd gotten together, Eddie allowed himself to visualize a future with Richie. A future where they could have their own wedding, where Richie's family could become his family, where Eddie didn't have to hide who he was.

"I love you." Eddie mouthed back, completely breathless.

He knew that the moment would pass soon, that they’d fall back into light-heartedness and pretend this never happened, but for the moment Eddie relished in it.

They didn’t even notice the ceremony was over until everyone began cheering, rising from their seats and blocking the view of the altar.

Richie leaned in close, resting his forehead against Eddie’s, and suddenly the energy shifted. There was a mischievousness in Richie’s eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Now that we’re done with the compulsory part of being here, wanna see if we can find a coat room to sneak off to?”

Eddie’s responding grin felt almost feral, his pulse beating loudly in his ears.

“Follow my lead.”

They filed out of the ceremony room with everyone else, back into the lobby where guests would wait until the room was rearranged into a dining area, but Richie and Eddie didn’t wait with the others.

Eddie followed Richie as he weaseled his way through the crowd anonymously, all the way to a tiny door that was labelled ‘basement’. They slipped inside unnoticed and bounded down the stairs until they came upon several open rooms. Some contained guests’ coats, some contained extra furniture, and some seemed to be washrooms at the far end of the hall. They chose the room closest to them and tumbled inside, already connected at the lips.

“Fuck this god damn shirt.” Eddie huffed, beginning to unbutton Richie’s offending garment.

Richie laughed deeply and Eddie felt it in his bones. He pulled Richie closer by his lapels.

“I’m gonna marry you some day.” Eddie said mindlessly, kissing down Richie’s exposed neck.

“Not if I marry you first.” Richie shot back without missing a beat. He was making quick work on Eddie’s belt, trying to get his pants down as quick as possible, but Eddie stilled him with a hand against his chest.

Richie looked up at him with wild eyes.

“You know I’m serious, right?” Eddie asked a bit timidly.

Richie brought his hands up to cup Eddie’s cheeks.

“Edward.” He said, unfaltering. “I would marry you today if I could.”

The statement was so genuine it took Eddie’s breath away, leaving him completely speechless. With nothing else to say, and too much love in his heart, he made it his mission to take Richie’s breath away too.

Eddie got to his knees, looking up at Richie through hooded eyes as his shaky hands undid Richie’s pants.

And with more determination than Eddie had ever had in his life, he promised himself two things.

He was going to marry this man one day, and right now, he was going to make this man lose his mind.

#reddieweek2020 #reddie week 2020 #reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie smut #reddie lemon #my posts #my writing

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twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years ago

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10x18 - TTD Clues

Okay, let’s talk TTD. Usually I just have like 4-5 talking points from TTD, but there was a LOT in this episode. And, let’s face it. Given that it’s the Leah episode, there’s lots to discuss anyway. But everything in TTD just backs up what I’ve already said. Namely, that Leah and Daryl are NOT soulmates. And that there’s a lot of Beth symbolism and foreshadow here.

So, let’s just dive right in.

1) Despite Chris calling it a “powerful relationship” in the intro (thanks a lot, Chris), when Nicole Mirante-Matthews, the writer, starts talking about it, it’s much better. She says this Leah thing will be relevant to a lot of things moving forward, including Connie. Which I take to mean that this affected his mindset and will probably change how he approaches things we’ll see in his story.

She says that these were two lost souls, who happen to meet at a specific place and time and sort of crash together. That specifically suggests that it’s not a long-term thing. It’s more of a rebound and they were both lonely, and that’s why it happened. Then she says that this will affect things “reverberating forward into his present day story, which we’re rolling out here.” Because we understand the Bethyl template, and that Beth will be returning soonish, that just screams Beth to me.

2) Chris talks about the grave marker Daryl looks at and how it’s kind of a fake out, as many people (who hadn’t read spoilers) would assume it was Leah’s grave. I talked about this Monday, and how it reminded me of the Beth/Tyreese fake out. I got that from TTD. Because I’d already read spoilers, the idea of that being mistaken for Leah’s grave wouldn’t have occurred to me.

And of course if she’s a hallucination, the grave marker may even be Leah’s.

3) Chris also mentioned massive time gaps. Now, he’s talking about the six-year time gap in which Leah happened, but still. I felt like the way he said it is to remind us that there are time gaps that have to be explained at some point, *coughs missing 17 days*

4) Fun fact: the puppy’s name is Carl. Now, I can’t REALLY point to that as a TD thing, because the puppy’s name really is Carl. But I couldn’t help but wonder if THEY named the dog that. And even if not, they still felt the need to mention it here. I’m side-eyeing a little. Only because there are such strong symbolic ties between Carl’s death and Beth’s return. But hey, take it or leave it. Just my TD brain working overtime.

5) They mentioned the map in the “in memoriam.” So, you know how I said yesterday that Map = Beth. Yeah, they actually treat Map as a lost character here. I’m just saying.

6) Denise Huth’s pre-taped interview talks about a “lightening” for Daryl. Uuummmm. I don’t want to go into this in too much detail here, but this is part of the eclipse symbolism. Okay, I’ll just run through it super fast, but I’ll probably do a post in more detail later. Beth = sun. In an eclipse, the sun is hidden by the moon. So it’s the “what is hidden” or “what is not seen” theme. Some of the sun’s light is still seen around the edges of the moon (think of that as the symbolism that seeps out) but the sun itself (Beth) is still hidden. Gimple described Coda using the word “penumbra” which is the darkest part of the shadow thrown during an eclipse, and Maggie told Glennin 5x10, “This is just the dark part.” If things are getting lighter, it’s because the eclipse is almost over. The darkest part of the shadow has passed and things are getting lighter. And that’s actually what we see in the eclipse scene with Daryl and Leah. The eclipse being almost over and the sun starting to peek through. So this is all just another way of saying Beth is about to appear.

7) There’s a point where Lynn Collins suggests that maybe we would have seen a Daryl/Leah kiss if not for Covid restrictions, but the writer immediately corrects her and says it was a creative choice. She sights reasons such as the fans being protective of Daryl and not trying to piss them off too much, but that seems very significant to me. I think they didn’t want to show Leah and Daryl kissing (even though the sex implication is there) because they’re saving that for someone else.

8) At one point, talking of Daryl and Carol’s fight, MMB mentioned the scene in S2 where they fought over Sophia. Just seemed significant to me that she brought that up, because that’s basically ground zero for the missing girl theme, and the first person we saw Daryl searching for. Now, this entire episode, he’s searching for Rick, and it’s full of Beth themes.

9) Back to the map. I said Monday I would go back to the opening scene where Carol picked up the piece of the map and put it in Daryl’s bag. I never did. Lol. Sorry about that. I threw a LOT of info at you and totally forgot to go back to it. Just keep in mind that this was probably a foreshadowing, and Map = Beth. And they specifically brought that scene up on TTD and drew attention to it, though of course they talked about it in the context of Daryl and Carol.

The other thing that several people have brought up is that map seems to be destroyed, and then whole again. I suppose I just thought he got a new map when I first watched the episode. Now, I agree with other that the state of the map is one of many ways they were hinting that parts or all of this is a hallucination. And again, they drew attention to the map on TTD.

10) When Chris asked the writer what the inspiration was for Carol’s “strong right foot” story, she got REALLY flustered. Now, that’s definitely TD symbolism. Related to the “missing foot/shoe” symbolism, in my opinion. In fact, if they’re synonymous (we’re just not entire certain yet) then this would definitely be a reference to both Beth and Ezekiel being missing. But anyway. The writer finally came up with how and why she had Carol tell the story of her grandmother. And I’m not saying it was a lie. The grandmother story is much more incidental than the “strong right foot” bit. But I don’t think Nicole expected that question or was prepared for it.

11) They did talk extensively about parallels between Leah and Carol, and I had to chuckle at what was said. They were just doing a lot of back-pedaling. So, first they said they are two completely different characters. Then they said they share a lot of qualities that Daryl recognizes. Then they say his relationship to Leah in the flashbacks is absolutely nothing like his relationship to Carol, both in the present and as it has been for many years. Did you catch all that? It’s their way of pointing out the parallels between Leah and Carol, but also taking care to make sure people know that Daryl and Carol are NOT romantic the way Daryl and Leah are. Lol. This is why I say its kind of the death knell for that ship. But again, why put parallels between Leah and Carol if the romance angle isn’t there? For the answer, read my very long analysis from yesterday.

12) On the “Inside the Dead” portion, it says that the breed of dog they use for Dog is often used for Military and Police K-9 Unites. Yeah, that’s purposeful. I think they specifically chose that breed of Dog to use on the show as Daryl/Leah’s dog, because it both calls back to Grady (police) and foreshadows the CRM (military).

13) Norma’s interview! Yay! This might have been my favorite part of TTD. Because the way he describes Daryl’s arc here makes it clear that it was one chapter of Daryl’s life that is now over. And what he says about Daryl being unable to allow himself to be happy with Leah says to me that he’s still hung up on someone else.

This probably made me happier back when I thought Leah was real. But the other thing is that he specifically uses a Matrix metaphor (the red pill vs the blue pill.) Umm? The red pill vs the blue pill situation in the Matrix is what brought Neo out of the construct and into reality. This is Norman’s very obvious way of telling us that Leah isn’t real. Daryl is in the Leah Matrix in this episode.

youtube

14) When speaking of the arm that Leah throws at Daryl, they said something really interesting. My fellow theorists and are still batting around ideas for what the arm symbolism might mean. But MMB called it “dead weight” that Leah was basically getting rid of. And they all agreed that symbolically that was true. So the arm represented Leah getting rid of the dead weight of her past and working through it. Wow. Where to start with this?

If she were real, that just shows that this is all this relationship was. Once she’d worked through her own losses, she wanted Daryl to commit to her, but he couldn’t. Because he hadn’t worked through his. Plus, a relationship built on this sort of thing, as I’ve already described, is never going to last in the long term. But of course, assuming she’s a hallucination, this is really just Daryl trying to work through his issues and shed his past. It doesn’t really work.

Dead Weight is literally the name of the episode in 4b where the Governor was a MASSIVE Beth proxy.

Shedding one’s tragic past while in a little cabin in the woods, with DARYL, is pretty much the synopsis of Still. So, it just backs up the symbolic retelling of Bethyl.

All right. That’s what I got for TTD. Anyone see anything I missed?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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poisxnyouth · 5 years ago

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bad influence dave part 6 (d.d)

A/N: hey whores!!! enjoy this. it’s a good one! i’m very proud of it. as always, let me know what you think of it. spark up a conversation about something in it with u and i’ll give u a big ol smooch. i love you and thank you for reading <33 -hailey

WC: 3.35K

David is sitting in the pews with you during Mass, arm draped around the back of your seat as one of your brothers, next to you, discreetly slips a wad of cash into David’s dangling hand. He removes his arm from around you, fingers quickly counting the amount – seventy dollars for seven grams, split between Mark and Matthew – and reaches into his breast pocket. David passes you the two miniature pill bags, each containing an eighth of an ounce, and watches as you quietly place them in Mark’s hand.

David casually rests his arm on the back of the pew again, eyes scanning the cathedral warily for any witnesses. He does more business at church than he’d like to admit – which is of your doing, not his. The list no longer begins with Michael and ends with Mark; his clientele has amassed, and a good chunk of his dealings are done after church. You and David meet people as they are heading to post-Mass breakfast in places throughout the city, forcing him to leave large amounts of weed in his car unattended. He doesn't like it, and fears getting searched by dogs, causing David to quadruple seal the amount of weed he intends to sell.

The night before, Saturday evening, he weighs everything out, separates it for each person, puts it all in one colossal Ziploc, and puts the Ziploc inside of another one. Four times. These bags have earned the chief title of his weed Russian dolls, and David seals up the final plastic bag by wrapping it tightly in duct tape. It’s a grueling process, and he hates that he has to do it.

You and David deal afterwards, mint toothpicks in rotation as he makes his pit stops, replacing the ideal cigarette his fingers are desperately itching for. Part of him has a desire to quit his horrible habit; maybe get prescribed Chantix, switch to Nicorette, anything else he could possibly do — but every time he thinks too deeply about it, he instantly changes his mind.

David likes the routine of it all; he likes the purchase of the Camels, heartily tapping the bottom of the plastic wrapped pack against the dirty gas station counter as he glances down at the scratch offs and slides his debit card through the reader. He likes hopping in the car and rolling his window down, unwrapping the new pack and opening the top. He can smell the crisp scent of the tobacco at the mere thought of a new box, and he likes the tight wiggle of the first cigarette as he tugs it out. He likes tearing out the little foil at the top for easier access later down the line, and he likes flipping his lighter open loudly, thumb rolling the spark wheel and bringing the tip of his cigarette to the flame. He likes the smell of the smoke, and he likes the feeling of his lungs filling up as he takes the first drag. He likes how the scent infiltrates his clothing, his hair, his skin – many people despise it, but it's his favorite. It’s a distinct red flag of the addiction he has a soft spot for, the one he wouldn’t want to give up, for others to see and judge him upon. He doesn’t mind it and doesn't care for their opinion; it is something many people hate themselves for, but he takes pride in it. He loves that he smokes.

You don't know the extent of it, but he feels this way about sex, too.

David takes you on expensive dates at opulent restaurants, and he swears he feels his eyes zero in every time you take a sip of the dry merlot he ordered for you, your suggestive gaze peeking at him over the rim of the glass. He attempts to not pay attention to the way your lipstick has tainted the edge of it, momentarily considering the image of what those specific lipstick prints would look like at the base of his dick. He tilts his head to the side as he watches you wipe politely at your lips after taking a sip, blush coming to your cheeks at whatever provocative joke he had just made. He hates lipstick, but adores the mess it leaves behind, depending on the night, the dress, and the purse. Sometimes he has trouble getting a deep plum out of the collar of his dress shirt; a delicate and innocuous pale pink blended into the skin on his chest; or — his favorite — a deep scarlet smeared down his first two, maybe three, fingers as he slides them slowly into your mouth, last knuckle tucked in as you give him doe eyes.

He even likes when he wakes up the next morning hungover, bowtie still hanging around his neck and dress shirt unbuttoned as he looks in the mirror, a ruby red smeared across his mouth and cheeks from the night prior. He likes peeking over at you out of the bathroom door, knocked out in his bed and still in your dress, with the same red smear evident across your face.

David has no desire at all, but also every desire on the planet, to have sex with you. You’re too clean — it makes him nervous.

He hints at this fact over dinner one week when the subject of sex comes up as he nurses a whiskey sour in a stout glass, waiting for your food, “I roughen you up…”

“And I let you roll around in the dirt for a while,” David continues, eyes glued to yours as he takes a sip and smacks his lips, “But you go home and you rinse it all off, and I start all over the next day, and the next day after that.”

You stare at him with big eyes, not saying anything. He opens his mouth to speak again, placing his cup down on the cocktail napkin and sliding it around in a fidgety manner, “I want you to let it sink in, and let it stain.”

You nod at his command, reaching for his glass and taking a liberal sip. Your lipstick stains it. “What if sex is the way to make it all stay?”

David pauses, scoffing slightly, “It could be. Honey, you go to church twice a week. You bless yourself at every turn.”

“How do you even picture it?” He asks curiously, leaning forward, “Like every teenage girl? Candles around the bed? Romantic sex with your beau?”

You don’t answer him, taking a long swallow of your wine, and he continues, shaking his head, “I can promise you right now, sweetheart – if that's what you’re hoping for, you won’t be getting it.”

“Does it matter how I want it?” you reply, playing his game, “What do you want?”

“I want to chew you up and spit you out,” David replies easily, signaling for your waiter, “Do this again.”

“But I’m not going to,” he rejects, fiddling with his gold cufflinks, “Just know that I want to.”

“What does that mean?” you ask him, “Give me details.”

“I see you right here and right now, dressed in my money and my hustle. That dress is so tight that you wiggle side to side when you walk, and you could barely sit down in the booth earlier. I think about taking you to the Waldorf – up a few streets, and over a few streets, by Lake Shore – getting us a room, and having my way with you all night.”

“Why a hotel?”

His second drink comes, cutting him off before he begins. David takes a long sip, eyes not tearing away from you, “Because you walk out with the same things you walked in with. We get to do that little messy walk of shame all the way back home to Wilmette on the train, and you finally feel like the whore you’ve always been. You will find something out, my love — your God,” he pauses slightly, “can do anything and everything but pull the slut out of you, sweetheart.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” you respond, finishing your glass of wine, “Why don't you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I know there must be more,” you state, watching as David fills your glass again with the bottle on the table, a silent beckoning to continue drinking with him. “Go on.”

“Why ruin the surprise?” He asks, speaking too duplicitous for him to not have something hidden under his sleeve, tainted by his guise of promiscuity. “I know you think about it too.”

“Yours are better,” you tell him, urging him to continue, “Hearing you talk about it means seeing how you look at me when you speak.”

David pauses, taking another swig and meeting your eyes, “I want to unzip that dress as slowly as I can; so slowly that you just beg me to get it off you. Self-control is the one thing I have that you never will. I can’t share that with you.”

“And I see that little crucifix of yours always staring right at me, meaning more to you than me, and for a split second, I feel a little guilty. You do your time and your due diligence; you go to church every Sunday, pray every day and night, all of that. But then…,” he trails as he looks away, shaking his glass and listening to the ice slide around.

“I think about you afterwards,” he meets your eyes again, “Messy. You asked for it but didn't know what it would entail, or when you feel bad that you enjoyed how I made you feel. Better yet, when you’re kneeling at the side of the bed on your bruised knees — evidence from me — praying for absolution and salvation.”

“...But?” you ask quietly, clinging to his every word.

“But…” David continues, taking another casual sip and speaking slowly, “It’s too late. The damage is done. I get to see you do that, and I get the satisfaction of knowing that I just ruined your life.”

“I’ve always said that I want you to, though,” you quip, “And you’ve always said that you want to. If that's the answer to keeping me…” you roll your eyes at the word you’re about to say, blush coming to your cheeks, “dirty, then do it. I’m a big girl; I can handle it. I dare you.”

“I would jump your bones right now if I could,” David swears shamelessly, “Think about all of the hoops we’ll have to jump through. The food, the check, getting to the hotel, booking the room…”

“We don't need to eat,” you offer, “Let’s finish our drinks, pay, and leave.”

“I should've known that you’d be impatient,” he says, “You’re going to be drunk off your ass if you keep going, sweetheart. I don't like the ethics of where this is going. I’m still fine.”

“Then you have another drink,” you give him a solution, “Or however many it’ll take for you to get like me and keep talking to me. I’ll cut you off when your words are slurring.”

“Your words are slurring, baby,” he shakes his head, sliding the orange slice off the cocktail pick and dropping it into the liquor. David removes the Maraschino cherry and passes it to you, staring as your teeth tug it from the stem.

He makes a soft noise at the sight, and bites at his lips when you slip the stem past your lips, speaking, “Don’t tell me you know how to do that shit.”

Seconds pass and David continues staring as he finishes his drink, eyes trained on your mouth before the knot emerges and you drop it on his cocktail napkin. He exhales and drops his voice, “I will bend you over this table right now.”

He motions for the waiter, “Change of plans – no food for us. Water and a lemon drop for her, and I’ll switch to a Manhattan.”

“You know, every cocktail is twenty bucks,” you say, watching him play with the band of his watch, “The wine was-”

“Don’t count the tab, sweet girl,” David shakes his head, refocusing his attention on to you, “I don't even look anymore. Neither should you. Price doesn't matter.”

The drinks come moments later, and he continues, “I’m cutting you off after this. You’re drunk.”

"Keep talking,” you giggle, eyes on his, “Your voice is sexy, and I like hearing what you want to do to me.”

"You don't know what you're in for,” David says casually, dunking the cherry into the liquor before passing the cocktail pick to you, listening to the delicate noise of your teeth scraping the metal while you take it into your mouth. “I might make you walk to the hotel just so I can see that sway of your hips. I love that dress you're wearing; the bow on the back makes you look like my little present. What else will Santa bring me this December?”

“You’re so cocky,” you comment offhandedly, “Not everything is for you.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Quit lying,” he shakes his head again, laughing slightly, “Don’t tell me you don’t think about it every day.”

You feel yourself flush as you drink more, still attempting to decide if it’s from the alcohol or his words before he speaks again, slutty drawl, “Look at you! I haven’t seen you this red since we first met. Cute ass.”

“What can I say,” you shrug, embarrassed, “You’re sexy.”

David leans forward interestedly, forearms resting on the table, “Am I?”

You nod sheepishly before he continues, eyes on yours, “Your napkin is on your lap?”

You nod again, now confused, but David clarifies his motive, ordering in a low voice, “Slip your hand up your dress, under your napkin, and tell me how wet you are.”

“Make your next drink a double and it’s a deal,” you offer, thighs pressing together as you already obey him, playing off your rebellion.

“Don’t bargain with me,” he shakes his head, eyebrows scrunching together, “Do as I say, or the only place we’ll be going tonight is back home.”

He watches your face deliberately as you listen to his demand, eyeing the way you take your lips between your teeth, “Stop touching yourself, you whore. We’re in public.”

You stop, embarrassed, and he continues after finishing his third drink, “I made reservations here just for you to cancel the food, beg for sex and touch yourself under the table. Why do I try to take you anywhere nice?”

David’s drinks are hitting him, now, and before you can reply to him, he’s motioning for the waiter again, “The check and another Manhattan for me. Can someone get us a cab? I think it’s obvious we’re in no shape to drive.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, looking between you, “Where are you headed?”

“Waldorf Astoria,” David replies, “Thank you so much.”

David finishes his drink once it's on the table, fingers reaching for the check. He doesn't flinch at the steep price and tips well, nearly fifty percent, and puts three hundred-dollar bills on the table after removing his money clip from his pocket.

The cab is dirty, as they all are, and David instantly tugs you into his lap, groaning softly, “You smell so good.”

You giggle slightly and attempt to undo the top button of his dress shirt, fiddling with it until it's undone and untying his bow tie. His palms reach around and squeeze at your ass through your dress as you plant kisses down his chest, marking your man until the lipstick prints run clear.

He kisses you, now, tongue sliding against yours and making a drunken noise of satisfaction, “You want this?”

You nod against him, his hands gripping your waist and you kiss David again, “Yes. I dare you.”

“Be careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he pushes your hair from out of your face as you drown in skyscrapers, tugging you closer by your chin, “We’re getting a suite, and I’m fucking you on every surface possible. Don’t say no.”

Too much liquor in David’s system turns him into an even bolder character, and you’re both drunk as you lean against the receptionist counter at the Waldorf Astoria, attempting to book a suite.

The all-too-patient receptionist tells him a price — more than you would ever pay for a hotel room — and David reaches into his pocket for his money clip. He quickly counts it out and she shakes her head, but you’re already too disinterested and don’t bother paying attention. Five minutes later, he’s lacing your fingers together and tugging you through the lobby, impatiently pressing the elevator button numerous times.

“Jeez,” you comment, eyeing the lipstick print peeking out of his rebuttoned dress shirt, “Someone’s antsy.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” David excuses, pulling you inside and hitting the button for your floor, “My dick’s been hard since the restaurant. It’s all I can think about.”

He kisses you until the elevator pings, still tasting of liquor and the cigarette he smoked in the courtyard, “I love you.”

You repeat it as he leads you by your waist to the room, watching the sway of your hips and the little bow flounce with every step you take. David doesn't know how this took him so long.

He quickly slides the key in and out of the reader, opening the door for you and allowing you to walk in. David instantly shuts the door and presses you up against it, wrapping your legs around his torso as he kisses at your neck sloppily. Your fingers from both hands find the length of his bow tie, tugging his head up and attaching your mouths. You move to hastily unfasten the buttons of his shirt, untucking the garment from his pants. David blindly shrugs off his jacket and his shirt, carelessly dropping the items to the floor as you kick off your heels.

You feel his fingers tug slightly at the zipper of your dress before stopping himself, relocating his hands to your ass and pushing you forward into him. You both make a noise at the friction into each other's mouths, giggling slightly and urging David to quickly turn you around, bending you over against the door and pressing your face against it.

“Should I take these off or are you matching? Don't wanna miss that,” he slides his touch upwards and hooks his fingertips into the sides of your underwear, leaning over and cross necklace dangling.

“I’m matching,” you reply before he murmurs an incoherent response, pushing your dress up and sliding your underwear to the side in place of tugging them off.

“Mmm,” David mumbles at the sight, spreading you slightly before slowly putting his mouth on you. His hands hold your thighs apart as he drunkenly works, eyes closed.

“Are you gonna fuck me right here?” you ask him, words slurred as he stops his movements, standing and spinning you back around.

“D’you want me to?” David replies, hands resting delicately on your waist as he presses gentle kisses back down your neck with a different kind of sensual candor.

“Fuck yes,” you nod, eyes closed, “But get this dress the fuck off of me.”

“I told you so,” David responds cockily, reaching up near the nape of your neck and slowly tugging at the zipper, “Did I not?”

“You did,” you nod again, feeling the air slowly hit your back as he undoes it as deliberately as possible. You take it upon yourself to reach down and begin unbuckling his belt, undoing the top button and unzipping him.

He doesn't stop you, hitting the bottom of your zipper as you tug his dick out and spit in your hand, beginning to work him over. David makes a noise and pushes the sleeves of your dress over your shoulders, forcing you to momentarily stand. It pools at your feet before he’s propping you against the door again, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We’re drunk,” he comments, kissing you sloppily, “What’re you so tense for? Relax.”

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callioope · 4 years ago

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Month after month after month. For seventeen months. Seventeen months of figuring out when I’m going to ovulate. Seventeen months of timing. Of ovulation tests. Of paying way more attention to my body and its symptoms than seems sane. Seventeen times: hope, disappointment.

I thought by now I’d really figured out my body’s symptoms, but apparently not. I really thought this would be the time. I really thought I knew it, like in my bones, that this was it. You may recall last month posting how I could tell the difference between symptoms. They seemed different this month, they really did.

And we needed a win this month.

I have not talked about this yet, but last month, my father-in-law suffered a heart attack. He was driving with my husband’s stepmom, and fortunately had the ability to pull over in time. But she does not really speak good English, and she had to get out of the car and flag someone down to call 911. It took the emergency responders 8 minutes to get to him, but we have no idea how long it took to place the call in the first place. They say if it takes 10 minutes -- 10 minutes of the heart not pumping blood to the brain -- they declare a person dead upon arrival.

But it took them 8 minutes, so there was a chance. And that meant 3 weeks in a coma, monitoring brain activity that wasn’t getting better. They were able to treat his heart, and the doctor said he could have survived the heart attack. He did survive the heart attack. He did not survive the brain injury sustained because of the heart attack.

As my father-in-law is Turkish, the family agreed that he’d want to be buried in Turkey. So my husband flew with his body to Turkey last week to bury him. He had to spend a week there, I think he said that was the minimum in order to get the round trip fare at a reasonable price. And with COVID, the whole idea of him travelling that far has been especially worrying.

He came home last night, but he’s quarantining at our place while I say with my parents in New Jersey. Their home is small and there’s really not a lot of space for me to work, I’m having to sit on a recliner and it’s really hard to feel energized to work. Especially with all the cramps and heartbreak of everything. I should probably just ask for the day off, but there’s an important meeting I need to attend at 1. Maybe I’ll sign off after that, I don’t know...

I just wish I could be with my husband right now.

Our anniversary is on Tuesday, I was .... I was dreaming of calling him up and telling him we’d finally succeeded. We.... we talked about naming the kid after his dad... if we succeeded....

It feels like it’s never going to happen. It feels like I’m trying so hard for nothing. It feels like I don’t deserve it, it feels like the universe is telling me to give up, that I wouldn’t be a good mother, that I’m not worthy. It feels like something is wrong with my body and every time I talk to the doctor, they don’t seem worried, and well, in the moment, I’m like “herp derp they are a professional I should trust them” but then three -- five -- seventeen months later, I have nothing to show for that trust and a million questions. My friends got bloodwork done when they first started trying so they could address any hormonal roadblocks that could make conceiving more challenging. But my doctor said that wasn’t necessary because “when I get pregnant they’ll do the bloodwork.”

I want to scream, I feel like you can’t trust medical professionals to catch any red flags. They didn’t take my seriously until the third time I mentioned that my periods are sort of worryingly light every month, when I specifically phrased it “they’re lighter since I came off the pill,” and even then, they just went “Oh? Hmm. Weird.” And didn’t follow up. No, all they said was, “well you got pregnant within a year so you must be fine.” (Miscarried in May, if you didn’t know. And they say that it’s so easy to get pregnant after you miscarrying. That like, most women get pregnant within 3-4 months of miscarrying. Further emphasizing that something is wrong with me and my body.)

I am going to be 33 in January. They say at 35 your chances start to reduce significantly. I worry about this all the time. I worry that I have PCOS and that it’s going to take me two years just to conceive the first time. I worry that the universe wants me to give up, that something is wrong with me physically or mentally, that I just don’t deserve it. I have so many friends who get pregnant immediately after going off the pill, like it’s so easy. We’d dreamed of being parents together, of shared play dates, and their child gets older and older and...

It just feels like it’s not in the cards.

I recently (accidentally) read an untagged pregnancy fic where they had trouble conceiving -- a whole whopping 4 months. I remember when 4 months felt like forever. I feel like a fool now, of course, and it made me so angry to see that. They said in that fic that it takes 78 times of having sex to succeed, but I don’t understand that statistic because -- they say most couples conceive with one year, although most conceive within 3-4 months of trying. But they also say that you shouldn’t have sex too frequently because it doesn’t give the sperm enough time to regenerate. (You should wait two days between trying.) Also, there’s really only like 6 days per month worth trying, that’s during your fertility window. But you have to have sex every other day during that 6 day window, so that means 3 times per month for 12 months is only 36 times.

AT ANY RATE.

YOU SEE. YOU SEE THE MADNESS involved in this process? Every month I pee in a cup and I take a test to see if I’m ovulating yet. And it SUCKS. I HATE IT. I hate doing it. But if I don’t do it, I won’t know when I ovulate, which means I won’t time it right.

And sex starts to feel like a chore.... and it shouldn’t. It feels like it should just be magical. And it isn’t.

It’s so hard. It’s so demoralizing. It’s so frustrating to see babies. My mom going on about how fertile her friends are and how they’re having another kid. Hearing that the friend in HS who told me, when I said I wanted to have kids some day, that she “wanted to amount to more than a baby making machine” .... and she just.... immediately got pregnant and here I am. A dream I’ve had, to start a family, a dream that has been mocked, and I’m still waiting.

I’m so tired.

And I feel guilty because I know that some people have waited even longer.

And I feel scared because I know that some people have waited even longer.

I feel scared with the limited knowledge I have of what the fertility process looks like. I don’t want to have to go to the doctor every other day. But it looks like maybe I’ll have to? At least, eventually?

It’s just heartbreaking. I really needed a break this month, but 2020 continues to be demoralizing. Sometimes it feels like... what am I even doing trying this hard to bring a kid into this world at all. Maybe that’s what the universe is telling me. I certainly had friends in HS who said as much -- that they couldn’t fathom bringing a child into this horrible world -- and that was like, back in the 2000s, before a disaster like 2020 could even be imagined.

Well. Anyways. Thanks for reading my rant. This was cathartic, screaming into the void.

#trying to conceive #this is really sad so #you don't have to read it #i just needed to scream into the void #the latest with liz #also talks about death of a family member #just as a warning #2020 really fucking sucks y'all #feel pretty bummed and depressed #also this is long

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oliveiraveiro · 4 years ago

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Intervention

Open Heart, Rafael x F!MC

Casey’s friends worry about how she’s coping after her breakup with Rafael.

w // mature, fluff, mentions of drugs and sex

word count: 1329 / ao3 link

note: missing the roommates a lil extra tonight 🥺 also, wholesomeness, because why not?

+dedicated to @elladines <3

Casey expected the apartment to be empty when she got home. She planned to be quick, just freshen up a little and grab an overnight bag then already be on her way. But as she walked towards her room, she sees all of her friends in attendance.

It’s Friday night and they should’ve been at Donahue’s, but instead they’re gathered at their living room.

“Oh…hey, guys. What’s up?” she says through her hesitation. Sienna looks uncomfortable, and it only means this meeting cannot be good for her.

“Casey. Why don’t you sit down?” Jackie regards her.

Alright…

She rests her purse and jacket on the table before sitting down next to Aurora. She looks around her friends again, trying to read their expressions, making eye contact with Sienna.

The nicest and kindest roommate of them all only gives her a small smile, and it’s even close to a grimace. “Case, you know how much we love you.” Sienna starts.

Oh no, what did she do? Casey knows she’s far from being the perfect roommate, but she tries her best to be decent.

Is it about the dishes? Did she forget it was her turn to clean the bathroom? The whole apartment? Hair in the shower drain? Her red hair really betrays her sometimes. Did she forget to buy groceries?

“A friendtervention?” she asks, swallowing the lump in her throat. She hated that word. Nobody likes to be called out by the people who care about them the most, because it means they have thoroughly messed up. And confrontations? She just can’t handle them.

“Yes.” Aurora answers for them, seemingly the calmest among the group. “There’s no right way to start this, Casey, so forgive us. We know how much you don’t like talks like this. But…we’ve been worried. We know you’ve recently been heartbroken.” As she finishes, she glances at Elijah, obviously urging him to continue. Did they rehearse this?

“We’ve all been through breakups, and we all have different ways to cope. But we’re concerned about yours. We’re not judging at all, because despite us being good friends we know your life is your life, but like Aurora said…we’re worried.”

So it’s not about something she did or didn’t do in the apartment? Thank god. For a moment she was extremely relieved, not wanting to strain her good relationship with her friends because she was forgetful of the little things. But then…recently heartbroken? Coping with her breakup? She’s actually a lot happier lately. Now she’s even more confused.

“I… don’t follow,” she admits, a curious frown on her face.

“Come on, Casey. You don’t seriously think we’re not catching on, do you? Arriving home a few hours late after your shift, sneaking away during weekends, locking yourself in your room when picking up phone calls? Again, it’s your life, but you’ve lied to us about it enough times. We just…we want to make sure you’re not doing something dangerous. Or that you’re staying protected.” Jackie continues. Sienna doesn’t look too pleased at her; she obviously didn’t follow the script.

Casey can only blush deep because she’s guilty. She didn’t realize they were catching on. She genuinely thought she’s doing great in sneaking around, because it has been more or less a month, but now she’s trying hard not to burst out laughing.

“Listen, we know you’re not dumb enough to be doing drugs or to involve yourself in illegal activities. We know you care about your job and your patients to not be that reckless.” Sienna gives Jackie a pointed look. “So… is it the same guy every night? Are you on the pill? Are you making sure they’re using condoms? If you are, and you can tell us that you’re a hundred percent sure about what you’re doing, and that you’re not just mindlessly trying to get over Rafael, we’ll gladly back off. But if not, Casey, please talk to us. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

Casey can only smile at them, undeniably touched by their apparent love and concern. “I… I can’t– thank you for caring this much about me. I love you guys so much.”

Jackie takes Sienna’s arm in hers before the latter can break her resolve and already pull Casey into a hug. “You’d do the same for us.” she says. “So, will you tell us what’s going on?”

“To be honest… I’m seeing someone.” Casey figured it’s the easiest to tell the truth and just omit specific details. “It’s not that I actually made a decision to hide it from you guys, you know?” Okay, blatant lie, but a necessary one until she gets to talk to her new boyfriend. “But it’s new. I haven’t talked to him about letting other people know about us.”

“But you’re safe? You’re okay?” Elijah asks.

“I am, I promise. I’m not doing anything shady.” Casey finds saying that unironically very funny despite being grateful for their concern. “How about I just leave now, and I’ll ask him if he… uh- could meet you guys. Maybe dinner tomorrow or Sunday brunch?”

“So it’s a he and he also likes Sunday brunches?” Aurora says with her signature smirk. Thankfully only Casey looks at her, the minds of her other friends still on her so-called safety and not the mystery man.

“You sure you’re not getting into trouble?” Jackie asks again, and Sienna adds, “You know you can tell us anything, right?”

“Trust me,” she gives them a bashful smile.

It’s the same smile she gives her lover when he opens the door for her. “Hi.” She leans in and gives him a kiss, walking into his apartment as they pulled away.

“You look really happy to see me so I’m sorry to say this, but we might need to tell them about us sooner.” She takes off her shoes before heading to the couch.

Before she can continue, she feels strong arms wrap around her from behind, and she chuckles softly. “Hey there.” She turns her head to the side, kissing his cheek. He only responds by trailing his lips down the side of her neck.

“I told you it won’t take long for them to find out about us.” Rafael grins against her skin, lightly biting a spot. “I should’ve just given you those hickeys last week.”

“Hey, you were the one who said something about them making a fuss that we got back together.” Casey defends, turning around in his arms so she’s facing him.

“I said they’d probably won’t let us live down breaking up only to get back together again in less than six months. You know, tease us and such. But you decided sneaking around was sexy.” Rafael teases, holding her waist and pulling her closer.

“Guilty.” she grins. “It already served me right anyway. They thought I was either dealing drugs or sleeping with a different guy every night.”

He laughs gently, moving one hand to hold her face and pulling her in for another kiss. He kisses her teasingly, slow and sweet but with enough tongue to make her stomach flutter.

Casey moans into his mouth as she tries to deepen the kiss, and whines softly as he pulls away.

“Tomorrow? Maybe we can hang out with them?” Rafael asks, but Casey’s thoughts are now far from being about her friends.

“Sure.” she says simply so she can pull him in for a deep kiss, her mouth soon travelling down his jaw and his neck. “What’s that you were saying about hickeys?”

He chuckles, but indulges her, carrying her in his arms and they settle on the couch, her on top of him.

“I said I’ll give you lots of them.” Rafael takes off her top, and next her bra, then he takes a moment and a deep breath to admire the sight. “I love you.” He grabs one in his hand, lightly massaging, the other gently caressing her cheek.

“Mm… I love you too, my mystery man.”

#choices open heart #open heart #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #rafael x mc #sienna trinh #jackie varma #aurora emery #elijah greene #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices

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mlmdarkfiction · 5 years ago

Link

GIFT FIC- Extra Credit?

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Ship: Edelgard Von Hresvelg/Byleth Eisner

Description: After Dorothea finds out Edelgard has a B in Professor Eisner's class, she tells Edelgard to ask for extra credit, knowing the other woman has a crush on the Professors Daughter who's also his teaching assistant.

Content Warning: Modern AU, College AU, Teachers Assistant Byleth

Authors Note: This fic was a gift for one of the kind people who donated to help my friend pay medical pills for their dog!

Read Below:

“...”

Silence interrupts the once cheerful conversation between the four girls. The other three had been waiting on a response, and were instead met with nothing.

Edelgard had, admittedly, stopped paying attention to the conversation at hand as soon as she’d gotten an email about their midterm grades being released.

She had to check immediately!

She expected what she always did.

Perfection.

Her whole life Edelgard had been kept to an impossibly high standard, and things truly hadn’t changed much now.

Really, the only change was that it was now Edelgard herself expecting too much of herself.

And when she checked her grades and saw that everything was not perfect and that they didn’t meet her regular perfection she was crushed.

There was no way she had made a mistake.

With all her studying, and the amount of hard work she put into every assignment, there was no way she’d earned only a B in Professor Eisner’s class.

Edelgard had never gotten a B before.

And it was unacceptable.

“Ede?”

Dorothea finally calls gently, breaking the silence.

All three women were capable of understanding that something was wrong, based both on Edelgard’s silence in turn of conversation, and the sour expression that had slowly taken her face as she looked at her phone.

Just seeing that expression on Edelgard’s face was enough to make Bernadetta nervous by proxy, her leg beginning to bounce under the table in an attempt at self-soothing.

“Sorry.” Edelgard says at the realization their lunch time conversation had halted because of her.

“What were we talking about?”

Petra and Dorothea share a look between them.

Clearly something was bothering the other woman.

Instead of answering her so that they could continue their mundane conversation, Dorothea decides instead to pry.

“Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Why would something be wrong?”

Dorothea and Petra share another look.

The sharp, somewhat rushed tone of Edelgard’s voice was enough to give away that something truly was bothering her.

Exasperated Dorothea sighs a little, shaking her head.

“Well you were looking at your phone like it killed your whole family.”

A pause.

Edelgard simply sighs.

No matter what she does or says there’s no way Dorothea is going to let this go, it’s simply not in the other girl's nature not to pry when she thinks there is something wrong with one of her friends.

Although an admirable trait, in this specific instance, Edelgard hates it.

“I got a B in one of my classes.”

“A B?”

Bernadetta finally speaks up, it’s clear by the confusion in her voice she doesn’t understand the problem. For someone like Bernadetta, someone who doesn’t keep themselves mounted on a pedestal, a grade like a B is no problem.

However the meek girl immediately regrets speaking up at all when she gets a sharp look from Edelgard.

“Yes, Bernadetta a B. I got a B.”

Sensing the tension, and Bernadetta’s rising anxiety, Petra finally interferes, wrapping an arm around the other woman.

“We are going to have to be going now!”

Edelgard sighs as the other two retreat, leaving her alone at the table with Dorothea. She makes a mental note to apologize to Bernadetta later.

“Well...Which class is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” The look on Dorothea’s face, that teasing smile that’s slowly taking over her expression, makes Edelgard regret this entire conversation.

“Is it the class with that cute Teacher’s Assistant you like so much?”

“...”

The silence is all the answer the other needs.

She practically squeals in delight, clapping her hands together.

“Oh Ede! You stupid Lesbian! No wonder you have a B in that class! You’re too busy staring at her!”

“No. I am not- That is- That is ridiculous.”

It’s not ridiculous.

Dorothea is right, she knows she’s right, and Edelgard knows she’s right. Still, even if they both know the truth, that doesn’t mean she has to admit to it.

“Well it’s only a midterm.” She points out, knowing there’s no use to get Edelgard to admit she’d slacked off due to her crush on the Professor's daughter.

“If you’re saying it doesn’t matter because it’s only a mid-” “Relax.”

Edelgard’s spiel is cut off by Dorothea gently resting a hand on top of hers, and gently squeezing.

“All I meant is you still have plenty of time before grades are final to turn that B into an A.”

She smiles gently at the other.

Dorothea can never entirely understand why Edelgard is the way she is, but she tries her best to be supportive.

“And for someone like you that’s easy right?”

It’s barely noticeable, but...Edelgard does relax a bit.

“You’re right…”

“And besides!” Dorothea chirps out, “If you really want it fixed now, you could always ask Byleth for some extra credit!”

And as if worried Edelgard wouldn’t understand the extra meaning in her statement, Dorthea winks for emphasis.

Ignoring the pink that comes to her cheeks in response, she just rolls her eyes at her friend's statement.

Although the idea wasn’t entirely a bad idea.

Professor Esiner would never give out extra credit, but his daughter, the TA, might.

It was worth asking about if nothing else...even if that means humiliating herself by admitting that she needs the extra credit in the first place.

The next time Edelgard has Professor Eisner’s class she once again struggles to focus. She is, as usual, distracted. Although for once her distraction has less to do with Byleth’s existence, and more to do with her extra credit.

Instead of actually paying attention to the lesson Edelgard is trying to figure out how she can ask Byleth about extra credit without embarrassing herself, or without making herself out to seem like some kind of idiot who’s failing the class.

When all the other students start piling out of the classroom, Edelgard stays. For a while it’s just the four of them; Edelgard, Byleth, Jeralt, and Leonie.

And the longer Edelgard finds herself waiting on Leonie to leave, the angrier she finds herself becoming, until she’s firmly glaring at the redheads back.

It really doesn’t seem like she’s going to leave at all, still talking the Professors ear off, and so instead Edelgard makes the decision to take the L on this.

After all, Dorothea was right when she said there was time before grades finalized.

She gathers her things, heads to the door, but then she’s stopped, a hand reaching out to grab her wrist.

It’s a subtle action, gentle but firm, but still enough to cause her to jump, whipping around quickly to be met face to face with Byleth.

“Hey-”

Edelgard hopes she doesn’t look stupid, she can already feel the heat rising to her cheeks, lavender eyes flickering from her wrist and the fingers around it, to Byleth’s calm face.

“You waited all that time,” Byleth says softly. “Did you need something?”

Getting defensive is an instinct, something that triggers before she’s actually able to stop it. “Need something? Why would I need something?”

But Byleth keeps looking at her, obviously not buying it, expression blank as ever, and it’s enough to make Edelgard crumble apologetically.

“I was...just wondering about extra credit.”

“Extra credit?”

Edelgard curses Byleth.

Curses how cute she is.

Her thoughts immediately drift from the topic at hand, and to the way Byleth always seems to tilt her head just slightly to the right when expressing confusion. She wonders if the other woman is even aware she does it.

“Extra credit, yeah…” Edelgard clears her throat, using the moments pause to regain her composure.

“My grade fell from an A to a B for seemingly no reason, and so I thought…”

“I won’t sleep with you.”

…

What.

Edelgard’s composure quickly falls apart.

Although that’s what Dorothea had originally been joking about when she’d told Edelgard to ask about extra credit, she had no intentions of actually-

Surely Dorothea hadn’t talked to Byleth about this?

But then...how else would she have known to say that?

“I-I don’t understand what-”

“That’s...That’s what happens in movies, right?” Byleth seems just as confused as Edelgard, at least.

“Someone asks for extra credit, and then they have sex?”

Edelgard is even more perplexed.

That sounds like a bad porn plot more than a movie.

Does Byleth watch porn?

No! Bad horny brain! Focus on the task at hand.

“I was…thinking something more like worksheets.”

Her entire face has become engulfed in red, and she finds it more difficult to actually look at Byleth.

“Oh.”

The other woman pauses and then turns to call out to her father, “Hey, can Edelgard do extra credit?”

Great.

Now not only did the Professor end up finding out she wanted extra credit, but Leonie overheard as well.

This is becoming worse and worse, more humiliating by the minute.

“I...think I am just going to leave.”

She hadn’t realized until she tried leaving again that Byleth hadn’t released her wrist. It’s easy to tug free of her hold now that the surprise of being grabbed has long past.

Edelgard quickly makes her way out of the class room and down the hall. She just wants to go back to her dorm.

It’s likely irrational, and she realizes it, but she feels like she was made a fool of both by, and in front of the girl she likes.

The girl who probably is completely unaware she likes her.

She’s trying her best to avoid the heat in her cheeks, and the tears threatening to spill from her eye due to the humiliation of it all.

“Edelgard! Wait!”

Byleth jogs down the hallway, catching up with the other easily.

“I brought you these.”

Worksheets. She’s offering Edelgard a handful of work sheets.

Clearly Jeralt must have agreed to the extra credit work.

She’s relieved if nothing else, at least all this humiliation hadn’t completely been in vain.

“Thank you.”

Edelgard takes the worksheets, but notices that Byleth seems to hesitate for a moment. She raises a brow, waiting for the woman to speak.

She’s usually not the type to show any form of hesitation, and so she gets Edelgard’s full attention.

“I’m sorry about before,” She says softly. “I was trying to make a joke but...I’m bad at jokes.”

That is an understatement, but it at least makes Edelgard feel a bit better about the entire situation, knowing that it was just an attempt at humor.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Byleth continues.

“And...Dorothea told me you like me?” It’s said with just the tiniest bit of emotion in it, a curious, hopeful upturn to the last word.

Edelgard decides in that moment she has to kill Dorothea.

“So...I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?”

Edelgard decides that she will not kill Dorothea.

When she doesn’t get an immediate answer Byleth panics a bit.

“Not like- Not as extra credit! Just like...in general. Just a normal date?”

“...I’d like that.”

#edelgard #edelgard von hresvelg #Byleth #byleth eisner #Female Byleth #Byleth/Edeglard #Edelgard/Byleth #edeleth #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem: Three Houses #Fire Emblem: 3 Houses #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fire Emblem 3 Houses #my work

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #307

“you lie so much, you believe yourself”

How long has it been since you kissed someone? Like, two years or so. What level are you on Farmville? Never played it. What are you looking forward to in the next year? I hope Covid just withers away, dammit. I truly, truly hope this vaccine is effective. And that people start wearing their GODDAMN masks. Do you use a lot of emoticons? Not really nowadays. Would you ever climb a mountain? No. Even if my legs were capable of handling that, I'd be too afraid of an avalanche. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. When was the last time you swam in a lake? A looooong time ago. If you could have anything right now, what would you want? It'd be great to chill at Sara's house honestly, I miss that. What’s your relationship status? Single and I think finally starting to truly accept I need to be right now. I wouldn't want to date myself in my current position, so I shouldn't expect anyone else to. When was the last time someone asked you your age? On my birthday when I mentioned in group therapy that I was trying to make it an especially good day about myself. When was the last time you danced? Very, very poorly with Sara years ago lmao. Has anyone ever tried to physically fight you? Someone snatched my arm and yanked me down to look her in the eyes in HS because she was a jealous bitch back then telling lies, but idk if her intention was to actually try to start a physical fight. Are you avoiding someone? No. What’s your favorite primary color? Red. What do you have pierced? Just my ears and bottom lip now. :/ I want morrrreeee. I'm forever tilted that so many of my piercings closed when I was hospitalized. What is your favorite dog breed? I find pugs to be very cute, but I do not support their breeding whatsoever so would never buy one. Besides them, I have a definite bias towards beagles. In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Fucking Christ, giant squids. Terrifying. Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or…? No. There are way, way, WAY too many people on this planet for that. What natural disaster scares you the most? Tornados. What outrageous career could you see yourself wanting to do? Define an "outrageous" career... but I can't visualize myself doing anything very unordinary. In what way would you want to help change the world? I truly hope I can make some considerable amount of contributions to natural conservation and animal education. When driving down the road looking for an address do you turn the radio low? I don't drive, but I know I would, considering I can't concentrate on driving if the radio is on anyway. What do you think of when you look at the stars? How little I and my problems really are. It gives me perspective. If you could say ONE THING to the president, what would it be? Well, Biden just got into office, so I can't really say yet. We'll see what he does. What Disney princess are you most like? Personality wise, I mean. Uh. I'unno. Maybe Snow White because animals? haha Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest. Do you look into people’s eyes when you talk to them? I try to, anyway, but I tend to find it very uncomfortable, and I never know if I'm offering too little or too much. So I have trouble maintaining it, especially with people I don't know. You can have one of the following two things: trust or love. Pick one. Trust. What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Hm, that's a deep one. Perhaps the understanding that you are just as important as the next person and that we should work as one to make this one life that we know of worthwhile. Make the world better than when you entered it. What is your favorite shade of blue? Pastel blue. I just like pastels in general. When's the last time you bought something just because? I don't buy things "just because." If I actually have money to spend, I use it with motivation behind it. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? WHOA NOW HUNNY you are asking the WRONG person because I can just about name his entire discography so there are waaaay too many song lyrics to dig through and pick one for myself. Probably something from "Dreamer," after a short moment's consideration. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? Not since Sara and I walked down the path near her house. We didn't plan on when we would turn around to go back. Do you daydream? Only all the time. What was your last daydream about? Ha, thanks to that other question, visiting Sara again. It'd be nice, but yeah, financial limitations and corona. Ever won the lottery? Bitch I wish. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? Ugh... I'd say putting all my self-worth, happiness, and source of peace into one person was pretty big but also fucking stupid. What is love really about? Don't ask a romantic this and expect a non-essay, haha. But to keep it as short as possible, it's about mutual care, the desire to grow together, trust, openness, the peace to be vulnerable with the other... It's about a lot. It's such a deep, beautiful feeling. What's the most you ever made in a year? lol Do you have an online diary? Only through surveys, really. What's the biggest pot you've won in poker? I haven't played poker since I was a kiddo, so idr. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? Who wrote this and knows my favorite bands????? Like damn. There's a good handful of the sadder songs I relate to; I did some brief digging through ones I know I relate to, and perhaps the one I feel closest is within "The Unforgiven II": "The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true. If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you." Aaaand now I'm gonna go binge Metallica 'cuz it's been too long, thanks. How many concerts have you been to? Just one. :/ Which one was your favorite? I've only seen Alice Cooper, and it was great. What's the most illegal thing you've done? Pirated stuff, oops. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? I doubt I have any anymore. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? Ahaha... There is some scratching on my mom's copy of Ozzmosis thanks to me playing it so much on my old CD player. Ever have a tornado in your town? Well my city is pretty damn big, so yes, in some spots. I don't think my immediate proximity has ever seen one, though. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? I would absolutely need something motivating if that was the case, so most likely "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. That song touches me so deeply and gives me the courage to do what I can to tackle life and try not to waste it. I know, I'm doing a great job at that. Ever heard of Shinedown? Hell yeah; I was actually listening to them in the car earlier. What does your lawn furniture consist of? We have nothing out there. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? Er, no. But when I got my tongue pierced, I had to survive off of popsicles and... I somehow forgot the main thing I ate???? How?????? But anyway it was something that didn't involve much or any chewing, either. I actually lost a little bit of weight in that week or so because eating solids was impossible, and I didn't enjoy "eating" liquids either. That piercing (snake eyes, btw) was soooo so cute tho. I really wish it hadn't started to damage my teeth, or else I'd still have it. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? I used to be kinda embarrassed by artists like Melanie Martinez when you compare her music to my adoration of metal, but at my age now, I don't give a damn. I like what I like and won't hide it. What is the first meal you remember eating? ... Does anyone actually remember this??? What's in your keepsake box/scrapbook? Good God, a lot. I haven't looked in it in a very, very long time though. It brings a usually painful nostalgia. What did you score on your SATs? I don't even remember if I took them. I THINK I took the ACT instead? I don't even know the difference. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Hm. Been a while. It's not like I'm out of the house a lot, especially nowadays with quarantine. What colors is your lava lamp? I wish I had a lava lamp, they're rad and really relaxing. What's the strangest thing you've ever hung on the wall? Nothing, really. Can you name every place you've ever had sex? I mean I can but I'm not going to. What's the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? My favorite childhood cat Charcoal. He was an outdoor and intact male, so it was very normal for him to eventually vanish to rove. Please keep your cats indoors. What forms of birth control have you used? The pill and, uh, having "barriers." How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? I made Wetpaint sites for my two RP mobs back in the day, but the site has since been completely revised, so no, they don't exist anymore. I checked outta curiosity I think last year. How many people are in your family portrait? We don't even have a proper family portrait. Ever punched a wall? No. When's the last time you really lost your temper? In some argument with Mom I don't remember. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? I had massive anxiety over it once, but it was irrational and even I knew that. Not that anxiety cares. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? I was very glad when my period came lmao. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? When I saw my grandma for the last time, I just let her know that I loved her and that she was so, so strong, and she was. No one could believe how long she warded death off when she finally stopped chemo. What do your drinking glasses look like? We have some more unique cups and mugs, but the majority of them are just plain, slightly angular glasses, some short, some tall. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? Oh wow, a lot. We're covered for most potential problems. How many funerals have you been to? Uhhh I think one. Maybe even none, just wakes. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? An ant, I think? I just used my fingers. How many computers in your household? There are three laptops, but no desktop computers. Ever help to solve a crime? There was one occasion years ago when our neighbor's window was busted overnight and cops came to us to ask for any evidence we might have had, but we didn't have any. Idk what came of it. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I've never been pulled over. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? I think it was a margarita, but possibly a daquiri. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? I fucking wish. I've tried, but to no avail. What's the furthest distance you've moved? Not very far at all. Just to the neighboring town. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? Only a few now and then. Girt is the only one I have real conversations with, though. What's the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Probably the laptop I have right now, but idk. I've never asked how much things they've bought me cost, it seems rude somehow. What's the most expensive thing you've bought? The upcoming revamp of my tattoo. Deposit was $100, and then it's probably going to be another $300-400. I can't afford it all myself; as my birthday gift, Mom is helping me pay for it, but I've got most of it covered thanks to Christmas and birthday money. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? Start to do it? Well, I was trying to run for sharp objects to do it twice, but on each occasion, someone held me back 'cuz they knew I was about to do something rash, so I didn't get very far, thankfully. The only time I fully went through with an attempt was my OD. Ever spent the night in the "loony bin?" How fucking disrespectful to call it that, but whatever. If you put all the instances together, I've been in psych hospitals for around a couple months, maybe more. What is your favorite cover song? Disturbed's cover of "Sound of Silence" is absolutely unbeatable. I'd just about call it a cold hard fact. What's your inspiration? Other's success stories, music, art in general, etc. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Over 3 1/2 years. Did you ever drop out of school? I dropped out of college three times, yikes. Three times is enough; even if I think I want to, I'm never going back. That is just way too much money to keep throwing down the drain, and there's clearly a pattern. Ever raise a child that wasn't your own for more than 3 months? I've never raised a kid period. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? Look up what a pilonidal cyst is and know I had one surgically removed. Pretty strange and uncomf. Song that has changed your attitude recently? None, really. What's something that you say a lot to be mean? ... Why would I try to be mean??? Who told you they loved you last? Me mum. Ever had a pet frog? Not technically, no, but as kids, my sister, neighbor, and I saved hundreds, maybe thousands of tadpole eggs from a ditch that was inevitably going to dry out. We transferred them all to a kiddie pool and let them grow naturally, hopping out and into the world whenever they were ready. I wouldn't call them "pets." Your worst enemy? IT'S NO SURPRIIIISE TO MEEEE I AAAAMMM MY OWN WORST ENEMYYYYY Do you believe in karma? No, but I wish it was a thing. What was the last hurtful thing you said to someone? I'm not sure. I certainly try to avoid doing so. Do you love someone enough you'd die for them? There's multiple people. The last song you listened to? I wasn't joking when I said I was gonna go on a Metallica spree, haha. "Of Wolf and Man" is on rn. Your most favorite memory as a kid? Too many, man. If you had the choice to work or not, would you work? Yes. I need something to do that benefits others in one way or another. Ever TRULY wanted to kill someone? I can't say for sure, if I'm being totally transparent. When I found out about Jason's gf after me, I can say with certainty I wanted her dead beyond dead, but I don't know if I wanted to kill her, per se. Just to clarify, no, I don't wish any negativity upon her now. I was certifiably insane before and certainly don't think I am anymore, so... Marvel or DC? I don't care. Do you watch anime subbed or dubbed? Both. I prefer dubbed, BUT only if the voice acting isn't insufferable. I like dubbed just because for me, it's very distracting to have to keep looking down at subtitles. How often do you exercise? I don't... I'm still waiting for Mom to move into her actual room versus the living room couch so I can do WiiFit with some privacy. I'm too uncomfortable to exercise in front of anyone. What is your favorite book series? Warriors will forever have a very special place in my heart. What is your favorite OTP? I will probably ship Rhett and Link for my entire life. Their friendship is truly incredible and so so SOOOOOOO cute. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I've never seen the series, actually.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''holier than thou'' by metallica

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