Tumgik
#and so hungry i couldn't think straight
flownwrong · 17 days
Text
dS rewatch shenanigans
So me and @mannequin3thereckoning rewatched 2.04 Bird in the Hand, 3.02 Eclipse and 4.03 The Ladies' Man (or 4.05, depending on the region; I like this ordering of the episodes better, it makes the season more equally paced to me). Somehow we picked a nice equal distribution between seasons 2-4 (sorry s1, I just did not have that much free time!)
It was fun to compare the impressions between us, a person who's fresh off a rewatch and one who didn't touch dS for some years :) Unlike my rigorous friend, I don't have it in me to do a separate post for each episode. It's all pretty chaotic, but here goes:
Bird in the Hand
It was funny to notice how much easier it is to judge the pacing of an episode while also chatting about it in real time compared to a regular watch. This one is pretty much perfect!
It's a great showcase for the side of Fraser that sometimes gets lost between screen and fic, or screen and meta—his lowkey permanent annoyance with his circumstances ("I'm not sulky. I don't sulk," he said. You know, like a liar!) and his masterfully contained intense anger. It's so funny how annoyed he gets with Turnbull! Finally, someone at the consulate who gets more shit than he does haha.
Also another great example of Ray consistently ready to both stir up shit and take shit for Fraser in a highly stressful situation where Fraser's hands are tied. “He’d shoot him for you if you asked"—even Dad knows <3 Linking this wonderful art to express my endless appreciation for how well-oiled Ray and Fraser's banter is. No one does put upon like Ray Vecchio. No one.
And, I mean, the emotional centerpiece of the episode is BRILLIANT. The tone balances on the usual dS edge between wacky and weighty juuust right for juuuuust long enough via Ghost Dad, and then it cannonballs right into heartbreaking because of the Ghost Dad in the span of two lines, sustains it for one of the most effective conversations in all of dS and eases out of it by—you guessed it—Ghost Dad diffusing the tension with continuous murderous overtures.
And I think Fraser's ✨Plan✨ in this one is a rare example of his speechifying that actually bares his underbelly as opposed to only expressing his beliefs illustrated by his experiences. He's very self-aware: he says to his father, "I'm no better", I, too, can't ask for help, I, too, can't express my love and my hurts—and then he goes and does exactly that—and then he immediately follows it by turning the tables on everyone and going "ah, but I stunned you all with my emotional openness on purpose so I could get the upper hand in the stand-off"—but it works both ways, and it's clearly also him using the excuse to actually be vulnerable for a second. Man, Fraser is a thing to behold in this episode.
But you can actually see how far he's come since the pilot, and how his partnership with Ray affected him—it's cool that this happens only two episodes after Ray bullies him into admitting his dissatisfaction with his circumstances. And here he's expressing grief, not the anger, not the desire for revenge, but grief, out loud, to everyone. "You broke my heart." Jesus.
10/10 episode, highly recommended.
Eclipse
This episode is like a favourite well-worn hoodie to me. Apart from the iconic "Do you find me attractive?" exchange it offers so many joys.
It's funny (The "now it's broken and it's working" exchange and "Mom, how you've changed—into cuban cigars" are both beautiful moments).
There's Fraser's "I'm acquainted with loss and, on occasion, loneliness" line which is I think a great thing to learn about him early in the season both if you tuned into the show without seeing s1-2 and if you're Ray Kowalski.
There's the great Ray intro, doubly so because we already had the intro, and were even given a lot of the info there that Eclipse reinforces (like Ray's compulsive need to express his vulnerabilities in hope of protecting himself from being judged too harshly, but also his competence—even if my man should really keep those glasses on—and his ability to think on his feet and his obsessive tendencies and his soft romantic underbelly and I could go on, we learn so. much. stuff. by the point we hear Fraser's exposition on Ray's professional record we're not even surprised).
I love that Fraser is immediately comfortable with his new position of being the more emotionally stable one in the duo, haha—while Ray Vecchio had his insecurities and great moments of learning to trust himself with Fraser's help, Fraser is clearly both fascinated by Ray Kowalski's openness and ready to offer his shoulder to lean on, with an added bonus of being in less danger of being perceived while near this dude who constantly makes himself available for perception.
Random little notes: I really love how Ray says his own name with so much disappointment when introducing himself: "I'm... *frustrated sigh* Kowalski." I love how he tentatively asks Fraser to repeat "friend" after his declaration of friendship. I love that he's a dork who throws the dreamcatcher like a frisbee. I love the b-plot letting us hang out with the station gang a little and see them stand up for each other. I love the insane angle on Ray's face while he's being interrogated (see: my eyelashes gifset). I love the birthday party. I love the crypt as a setting, and I love everyone in that impromptu holding cell.
And, in the words of my wiser friend, "ray finding out his imposter syndrome was caused by a guy who doesn’t even remember him is so very ray". I take my hat off to everyone involved in making this episode.
The Ladies' Man, which I'm very glad my friend suggested, bc otherwise I probably would've forced her to watch it anyway, and I'm not a fan of such cruelty.
Let's get some things out of the way:
Ray looks incredibly good in this episode. It's a crime to look this good AND suffer prettily on top of that. The fact that the camera that was already pretty obsessed with CKR these two seasons gets, like, terminally stuck on him here does Not hurt matters.
I have some Questions for the episode, and I'll get to them, but it's my top one dS episode on a pure viewing pleasure level because it pushes my buttons.
Can't say much about the cold open because it's pretty much perfect, tight and tense and we get the Homoerotic Calling Off Your Rabid Dog Partner When He's Losing It Before He Kills Someone, which is a timeless classic (complete with the obvious and iconic Look at me! Look! At! Me!), and Ray and Fraser are perfect characters to act it out. CKR is on fire, no notes.
One moment I somehow forgot from my many previous rewatches that really struck me during this one is Fraser's almost casual admission of imagining murdering his father's murderers—thinking again about Bird in the Hand up there. It's a great reminder late in the show, where we see this aspect of him less often, and it's cool that he can safely share it in the face of Ray's rawness, you know, as opposed to it being a great and painful admission when he's the vulnerable one.
A brief interlude to shake my fists at the sky and wail Why, o Paul Gross, did you have to add the singing—it's not just that the joke didn't age well, it didn't even land at the time, and I don't think it would in any episode, but especially here???— and the bark tea flirting—which is par for the course as far as dS goes and could be cute but it feels totally disconnected from the rest of the scene, let alone the episode, so, again, ???? It's not that I wanted a mournful monotony of an episode with no laughs—I would pick a different show then—but like, I think better jokes could've been made. Like later in the episode, where during a climactic scene they drop the "actually, all that exposition makes me feel a little thirsty" line, it works.
Back to the point: Dixie Seatle is fucking amazing??? Her and CKR work so well together that all the noise of failed gags and nonsensical continuity of Ray's cover and whatnot is super easy to wave away because they're the emotional core of the episode, and they deliver. They have such a fragile thing going on, with him being exhausted from all the guilt and her also being exhausted from his guilt on top of the, you know, the whole death penalty thing.
Which, speaking of, UM, that's one of Thee Darkest Premises in the whole show and encountering it for the first time was a trip, during a season I was not a fan of and considered dropping. And yes many rewatches later I'm still confused but grateful about it all. The world in this episode is brutal in the way it rarely is in the show; integrity and redemption and whatnot are big motives in dS, and the big point is usually that the world, imperfect and unfair as it is, can respond to kindness with kindness and this is worth upholding. It is Not So here; scenes like the whole precinct cheering away at the prospect of Beth's impending execution are just—wow, okay.
So, as far as dS goes, this is a super solipsistic episode. It's perfectly self-contained, and even though it could have, I don't know, implications for Ray the way some of Fraser's Bad Shit did for Fraser, it just isn't addressed in the end. And I don't think it should be. It's a character study, and whoever decided they needed a very heavy one for Ray is my hero. (Note: I think this is the reason I never read a coda for this episode that I enjoyed. Having your blorbo break down in tears right in front of his boyfriend right before the credits with no follow-up kind of begs for a coda, but—newp. It works so well because it cuts off with no big resolutions.)
And whoever wrote those two closing scenes deserves a medal; to have this much restraint is an achievement for late season dS. CKR and Dixie Seatle also deserve a medal each for creating something this excruciating with super precise line deliveries and body language.
Small things my mind always catches on:
Welsh and his pink duster, looking out for Ray
CKR's rolling over the car stunt (steam comes out of my ears)
tiny flashback Ray checking his hair in the mirror at the crime scene because of course he does
Ray casually fiddling with Fraser's hat as they walk around
Sam Franklin's whole deal. I mean, there's tension there. For god's sake he pats Ray's cheek like a proud mentor he played the whole time when Ray takes his gun during his arrest. I mean. Uh. Yeah.
the fact that truepenny quit her meta right before this episode is a human tragedy
Probably like 40% of what you've read above have been brought up or articulated by @mannequin3thereckoning, so thank her for all the fun. I hope we can do this again some time <3
28 notes · View notes
dreamlogic · 21 days
Text
musing in the tags about the view two years out from my hysterectomy and the shifting nature of neuropathy. i asked my PT for recommendations/resources pertaining to pain science and that's been a very helpful lenses to have. i'm still not back to normal, will never be unmarked by this experience or return to my pre-op self, but my baseline has been gradually increasing over the last few months, and it feels good to look back on the last two years and say "i have no idea how i managed to function while living with that, but i did!"
#meatsuit renno#chronic blogging#ctxt#at first post-hysto pain was a deep burning ache#and eventually that lessened on my left side and settled in for the long haul on the right#after a couple weeks it had started to feel like a small carnivorous creature scrabbling and gnawing at the inside of my abdomen#nestled into the hollow of my pelvis and reaching up with its raking claws#about 6 months in and the creature still chewed occasionally but had shrunk to the size of a tennis ball under my right incision site#it clamped its jaws down and went to sleep and i perpetually felt like someone had pinched a fold of my insides with a large binder clip#this constant awful twisting tug every time i moved that kept me from straightening up or breathing fully#this is about a year into recovery and my original surgeon has blown off my requests for follow-up treatment three times now#i carried on as best i could. fatigue and brainfog getting worse & worse as the pain wore on unrelentingly#about a year and a half into recovery it worsened again. searing lancing pain like i'd been impaled on a piece of white hot rebar#couldn't hardly move. couldn't think straight. couldn't sleep#finally checked myself into urgent care & then the ER just to try to get someone anyone to take me seriously and help me#finally got a referral to a new surgeon who immediately pinned it as extreme neuropathy#started gabapentin end of december last year and the relief was immediately#i never thought i would welcome the gritted teeth vice grip of my little feral pain creature#but when i felt the molten spike slide out to be replaced once more by its worrying jaws#the intermittent spark and fizzle of that pinching squirming pain was a dramatic improvement#then i started PT in march and slowly so slowly the creature's hungry grip is loosening#it still clamps down occasionally. maybe once every week or two i'll have a day when i just accept#that there will be a horrible little creature chewing on my right side from the inside#but nowadays with the gabapentin doing as much as it can and an exercise routine i must stick to religiously to supplement PT#the pain is more of a little pearl of dark matter shifting around under my skin#it's incredibly dense. the heart of a black hole of disabling agony. all that white hot fury condensed into a slick heavy marble#as i recover some of my strength and energy i can feel my body coating it in nacreous layers to minimize its influence#my hysterectomy was 2 years and 4 days ago today and i feel like i can finally finally say i'm beginning to truly heal#i suspect i'll always carry this pearl in my side like shrapnel. product of damaged nerve tissue that went untreated for far too long#i wish my original surgeon had been more competent more attentive less lazy & indifferent to my pain. but i still don't have any regrets.
13 notes · View notes
fabulouslygaybean · 2 months
Text
testosterone is fun because i had to get out of bed at 1:20am to make myself food because i was so hungry i couldn't sleep
2 notes · View notes
Text
see sometimes I try and think about it all more logically. what if it was all happening to a friend. my friend!! you completely forgot to feed your kitten his wet food for five days? you haven't drunk water for a couple of days? you didn't shower or change your clothes for four days? you've only eaten two actual meals in the last two days? your average sleep in the last week is around five hours? my friend, you need help.
since it's me, I don't need help.
#most of it has been genuine forgetfulness/zoning out and 'oh it's 2am'#but like. last night i was lying awake hungry as anything bc all I had was dinner and not a great deal of that. if id been in a house on my#own i would've hopped up and got smth but i couldn't in case of disturbing grandma#(I have since purchased things that I will store near my bed that I can either take out of there#or leave them there for any such emergencies. if you call them emergencies. sometimes if i can't handle eating normally if i can't see what#im eating i can manage that - makes it less real somehow.)#honestly tho i am shocked by how immediately all my carefully created routines have fallen apart tbh#should i talk to my lecturer at uni who does the 12-2 class? to check she's ok with me eating in class? bc otherwise i will likely not eat#anything before dinnertime. probably skip breakfast#i don't know. i don't know anything. i love my course i love it so much and i don't know how i'll handle it#but i don't think i'd handle not doing it#idk im just so tired man#depression does a number on you frfr#okay that's it im turning on the heater finding some music and doing a lil dance. see if i feel better. maybe try a bit of hot water with#ginger or smth livening in it. i do want to try that. something to wake you up. ive been in a dead depressed limbo for five hours straight#and done nothing of use#tw ed#good news tho i find my anxiousness overall reduces the more depressed i am xD idk why lol#personal#puddleglum hours
7 notes · View notes
screampied · 6 months
Text
NO NUT NOVEMBER ☆ JJK MEN
Tumblr media Tumblr media
gojo, nanami, toji, getō, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn
2.7k+ ☆ total wc ☆
☆ tags ☆ afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
FAILED NOV. 1 ☆ GOJO SATORU
poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try it—see which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.
“you really don’t think i’ll last for the entire month?” gojo says, and he’s just following you around. it’s november first and he’s already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. “pft. please. i can last the whole month without—” and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst he’s rubbing himself against you from behind. “…can't i at least.. touch you, baby?”
“no,” you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees you’re wearing no panties. “you can last a month satoru. it's not that long.”
“hey ‘s not fuckin' fair,” he groans, and he’s so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, he’s only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. “planned this all out, d-didn’t you,” and he lets off a low breathy sigh. “there's no rule sayin' i can’t bend ya over like this,” he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the second—you gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. “is there, baby?”
gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasn’t even passed and he already lost—to be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.
“s-so nice ‘n warm f’me.” he’d pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where you’re laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much it’s oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, you’re moaning from his thrusts—already forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.
to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.
“s-satoru,” you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. he’s panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lips—gojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. he’s moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and he’s so sensitive. he can barely think straight. “m-mhm.”
your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojo’s weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.
“not finished with you,” he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he create—licking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. “we… can try again next year, y-yeah?”
FAILED NOV. 3 ☆ CHOSO KAMO
choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming inside—he'd go mad. so he had to improvise.
“just a taste princess, just a…taste,” he’d pant, staring at you with such intent. you’re just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. “don’t look at me like that.”
“choso it’s only been three days,” you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warm—he lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasn’t even been that long.
a big baby.
but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didn’t even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against you—making you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.
“s-so good, so hungry,” he whines, and choso can’t help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldn’t help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. “drivin’ me s-so insane.”
“fuck choso,” you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, he’s so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasn’t never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. he’s so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dick—moaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and he’s craving more and more. “don’t stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.”
“praise me more,” he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. “want you to tell me how good ‘m makin’ you feel, gorgeous.”
you’re panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. “you’re so good, choso. you’re making me feel so good.”
“….oh, s’ all i want, pretty,” he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.
FAILED NOV. 9 ☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI
you make toji fail because you’re just…horny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldn’t take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.
“toji!” you’d pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at least—but no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.
you had to do something, you couldn’t wait. it’s been nine days, you were sitting on toji’s lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. “yes baby,” he speaks, acting as if you weren’t squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.
“i need you,” was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen—his rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. “so bad. sosobad. fuck me please. ‘s was a stupid idea.”
“tch. ‘bout damn time. and ya said i’d break first,” he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. “mm. at least y’er aware. now now, be a good girl ‘n take those filthy panties off f’me.”
you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties off—you stare down at toji as you’re riding him and he’s still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasn’t many people around but they’d still probably see you. but from anyone’s perspective, it’d look like a silly girl on her boyfriend’s lap for whatever reason.
“s-shit,” you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. toji’s fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so good—it was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and he’s just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. “s’big toji. fuck.”
“ya know how to take it every time though, doll,” he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, he’s so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and you’re so dizzy, you can’t even speak words. “fuckin’ whore-” he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he would—it shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and it’s sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.
“better savor that shit,” he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. “should make ya lick my fingers clean. bet you’d like that, little slutty girl,” and he gives you a brief head pat while you’re pushed into his chest, panting over and over. “yeah ya fuckin’ would.”
FAILED NOV. 18 ☆ SUGURU GETŌ
geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while he’s out at work or busy. he comes home to you—and he just can’t take it anymore.
geto’s breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screen—only in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. “suguru baby, you miss me?” you’d say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. “it’s been eighteen days since you last touched me.”
“yeah…” he pants, knowing you obviously can’t hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. “miss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.”
“remember, you can’t touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.” and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more times—nearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.
geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.
you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smile—geto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. “the tip, just the tip. swear. jus’ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.”
“fine,” you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank you’s once you’re hovering over his cock—geto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once you’re doing as promised, just the tip. “what’s wrong, do you want more than that?”
“yeah but baby, you’re gonna make me c-cum.” he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. “damn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,” and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and it’s so sexy, he’s so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within seconds—geto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as he’s still spasming, it’s been so long and his load is so much.
“shit.” he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. “saved- saved s’much for you, baby,” he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against him—only before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. “gotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.”
FAILED NOV. 30 ☆ NANAMI KENTO
nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and he’s just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.
“you don’t know how hard it was to not—” and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. “woman, you torture me, you know that?”
you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself inside—he’s staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, he’s teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just can’t help himself. “kento, cum in me p-please,”
“thought you said i couldn’t cum until december first, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, it’s almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanami’s just sliding his tip in and out, it’s leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. “this is your little game, i’m just playing by the rules.”
“didn’t mean it,” you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. “kento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.”
“oh, i know,” he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groans—swiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. “to think i haven’t touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. can’t last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,” and as he’s talking, you’re growing more and more dizzy. you’re practically drooling from how needy you were.
and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. “tell me,” he whispers. “say the words and i’ll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.”
“please kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.”
“anything for my girl.” he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouth—he didn’t expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. he’s slow but his strokes are deep, and it’s so romantic. “that’s it, jus’ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then i’ll claim your heart next.”
7K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 4 months
Text
My cat likes you
Pairing: Lee Know x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: your cat is behaving strangely lately and a walk outside your apartment shows you exactly why.
Warnings: none
A/N: I saw a video on Instagram with a cat rubbing on the floor when they saw a cute guy and I was like "why is this so Lee Know coded?" And had to make something like that with him heheheh
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's been a few days since your cat started behaving strangely, she'll wake you up early in the morning meowing at your room’s door. At first you thought she did that because she was hungry, but when you put food in her bowl she ignores it and keeps meowing.
You realized then, that she wanted you to follow her as she twirled and rubbed on the floor. She would wait for you at the door and would keep scratching it, waiting for you to open it.
“It's too early for a walk, Bo-mi”, you tell her, shaking your head and turning around, going back to your bed to try and sleep a little bit more before work.
She keeps insisting on the early morning walks, but you don't give in, you can't have her get used to going out when it's still time for you to be sleeping.
After a few days, Bo-mi starts having that same behavior late at night, when you are already in bed, ready to go to sleep. She meows for minutes straight until you get up and walk with her to the door.
“Bo-mi, we can't go out now, I'm already in my pjs”, you sigh, patting her. But she keeps scratching the door and meowing for you to go out. “Tomorrow is Friday, okay? So I can stay up late to take you out for a walk”, you tell her before going back to your room.
You spend the next day trying to figure out why she's acting this way. You think about the possibility of her being sick, but she's eating and drinking water normally and she's sleeping the same amount as she always did. Her last check up wasn't even two months ago, even so, you should definitely make an appointment with the veterinarian.
You arrive at home and Bo-mi comes running to you, purring and rubbing herself on you. After you pet her, she goes back to the couch, getting comfortable there again, she doesn't even try to go to the door. Why does she just want to go out when it's late? Or early in the morning? It’s just strange.
Thinking too much about it won't help you find out what's going on, so you give up on the thoughts and just go to the bathroom to take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes since you have to take the lady of the house for a walk in a few hours.
Everything kind of makes sense when you open the door and Bo-mi goes running to the corridor, however, she stops at your neighbor's door, sniffing a bit. The sound of the elevator takes you out of your thoughts and your cat walks in that direction finding a strange man coming out of the elevator.
He looks at her and smiles, trying to go past her but she throws herself in the ground, showing her belly to him and rubbing herself on the floor.
Before you can speak, the guy bends down, petting and making her meow. You look at your watch to see that he's arriving at the exact time that Bo-mi tries going out every night. The weirdest thing is that she hates strangers, especially men.
“I’m sorry”, you finally get out of your head to say something, “she has been acting strangely lately”
“It's okay”, he says, without looking at you. Hypnotized by your cat's little meows and cuteness. “I actually saw her on the balcony one of these days, but couldn't pet her because of the distance”, he chuckles. “What's her name?”
He finally looks at you when asking that and for a moment it seems like the world stops for the both of you. He's the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life, with cute boba eyes and an innocent look.
“It's Bo-mi”, you tell him, feeling your cheeks a bit warm.
He clears his throat, petting your cat for the last time before standing up again, fixing his clothes. He didn't look at you at first, but you are so pretty it actually left him speechless and that is a hard thing to achieve. He was even going to make a joke about cats, but couldn't even manage to get that out while looking at your face.
“I'm sorry to ask, but do you also go out around five a.m.?” You ask out of nowhere, making him look at you suspiciously.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because I think my cat is in love with you”, you tell him, pointing at Bo-mi, rubbing herself on his legs. “She always tries to go out around five in the morning or at this time of the night, I guess she wanted to see you again”
You really understand Bo-mi on that, you would also want to see him everyday if you had the chance.
“Oh”, he smiles, “I'm Minho by the way, I moved here two weeks ago”, he says pointing to his apartment.
“I'm y/n”, you give your hand for him to shake, “I know it's weird to ask this, but can I bring her out sometimes so she can see you?” You ask, shyly, making Minho chuckle.
“Yeah”, he nods, “maybe you can also meet my cats”, he says, feeling his ears warming up. “I mean, in a housewarming party, of course”, he completes.
“I would love that”, you smile and he feels like he could melt just with that, “I'll take her home now”, you catch Bo-mi in your arms even though she struggles to get out of your grasp and go back to Minho, “I'll wait excitedly to meet your cats”
Minho watches you go into your apartment, waving to him before closing the door. Now, how the hell does a housewarming party even work?
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
spamgyu · 4 months
Text
SVT HHU - Orange Peel Theory // Drabble
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
orange peel theory is making it's rounds on local tiktok and twitter. this is my humorous take on how the HIP HOP UNIT discuss/deal with the orange peel theory with their significant others.
[vu] [pu]
SEUNGCHEOL
"would you peel this for me?" she placed a tangerine on his desk – not caring if he was in the middle of playing his video games.
without having to ask twice, seungcheol hid his character behind a container, away from his opponents shots and reached for the fruit. "cover me, wonwoo." he mumbled into the mic, peeling the citrus with ease. "just one?"
y/n smiled as he handed the fruit back to her. "just one."
"that's so small. get another." seungcheol nodded over to the kitchen.
"no this is fine." she shook her head, happy with the results.
he probably thought she was hungry, and considering dinner was hours away, seungcheol knew it would not be enough to hold her off.
standing from his seat, he made his way to the bag of cuties they had purchased at the store – peeling two more.
"that's enough." she laughed, stopping him from peeling a third one.
WONWOO
"baby?"
"hm?" he responded from the other side of the couch, preoccupied with his mobile game.
"would you peel an orange for me?"
wonwoo glanced up, looking behind her to see an empty counter top – a place where they usually kept their fruits.
locking his phone, wonwoo bounded for the door – leaving his girlfriend confused. "where are you going?"
"getting oranges." he replied, as if it was the most obvious response – grabbing his keys off of the hook.
"wait–" y/n laughed, walking over to him. "it was hypothetical."
wonwoo's head tilted to the side, puzzled by the point she was trying to make. "why would it be hypothetical? you asked meaning you want it. it's okay i can get–"
"baby it's a tiktok trend." she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"to ask if i would peel an orange?" he asked slowly.
"they said if you would peel an orange for your significant other, you would do any mundane task for the–"
"i need you to understand i'd peel the earth for you."
throwing her head back, she let out another laugh. she knew he was joking but his delivery had sent her over – keeping a straight face as he replied the most outlandish way possible.
MINGYU
she knew he would peel the orange for her, she didn't need to ask.
in the three years they had been together, not once had she had to open a canned drink, twist open a cap off a bottled water, plan a single date, open her own doors – hell, she hadn't had to put her own gas in her car since she began dating the king of acts of service.
he had done it without being asked.
since being with him, she had been able to turn her brain off – fulfilling her life long wish of being treated like a princess.
but she also didn't think it would be such a hot topic when she had showed him the tiktok of the orange peel theory.
"i'm not humoring this. i won't." he shook his head for the third time.
"why not?!" y/n stomped.
"fine, you want peeled oranges?" mingyu grumbled, walking over to their fruit bowl, peeling the citrus and placing it in front of her. "here."
looking at the bare fruit, y/n couldn't help but wince. not because of his actions.
but because she hated the sight of the white pith. she hated peeled oranges.
it was far too messy to eat and the texture of the white fuzz surrounding it gave her the heebie-jeebies – shuddering just at the thought of touching it.
"exactly." mingyu grabbed another orange and a knife – slicing it in quarters. "i can't peel it because you like it sliced."
she stood there dumfounded as he left the kitchen chuckling.
he won this round.
VERNON
"that's dumb." vernon snorted as his girlfriend showed him the third tiktok of someone's boyfriend failing miserably at their significant other's attempts to ask them to peel an orange for them.
"it's also kinda funny." she laughed.
"i'm one step ahead though."
furrowing her brows, she gave him a look from the other side of the couch.
"that," vernon pointed to the small potted plant resting by their window sill. "is gonna be an orange tree."
he had recently been very into assisting her with finding decorations for their new shared home, at times coming home with various plants and art works. she had gotten accustomed to his random home-good shopping sprees, she didn't dare bat an eye when he had come home with a real potted plant the other day. it would just be another addition to their countless ones that he used to brighten up their home.
"you bought an orange tree– plant?" her eyes wide. he never was the green thumb, killing the cactus she had bought for him years ago. she figured she would be the one to tend to this new plant.
"anyone can peel an orange." he shrugged. "i'll move it to the yard when it gets bigger."
"oh my god."
Tumblr media
@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @hanniebaby95 @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @alwaysalmostthere
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
3K notes · View notes
sugarlywhispers · 1 year
Text
s.kiyoomi + gf moments
☆— fem reader, crack, fluff
☆— a/n; i don't know what this is, i just had a thought and felt like writing it.. it could become a serie of events until the Sakusa Kiyoomi finally admits he loves y/n (?) idk, let me know if you like the idea😊
Tumblr media
You have been best friends with Bokuto since you were young. Your friendship was so fun and purely like brother and sister that you even decided to move together once high school was over and your University period of life began. Even if you were very different in personalities, somehow you both worked together and couldn't imagine a life without him as your bestie-almost brother.
After some time living together, you got very used to seeing some people around the house almost everyday, his volleyball teammates.
First, it was Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu was the biggest flirt you have ever encountered in your life, almost to the point in which sometimes it annoyed you. In a good way though. He was a cutie.
While Kiyoomi was very chill and shy, he mostly kept to himself if no one bothered him; but he had the most snarky and filled with sarcasm answers for whatever antics Boo and 'Tsumu could come up with. You loved it.
Then Hinata Shouyo joined the team, and it was like a whirlwind uprooted everything in his path. He was the most outgoing and sociable and kind human being you have ever met.
And it all became like a routine. Everyday after practice, all of them would come to have dinner at yours and Boo's apartment. By this time, you already know all of them and how they all liked things and their meals. Especially Omi. He was a particular, rare especimen.
Bokuto had warned you before introducing him, how he did not like physical contact or how he wouldn't take off his mask if he wasn’t playing in a match or eating. He warned you not to feel offended or take it personal if he bluntly commented on how things were not clean enough or whatever.
But surprisingly, he had never looked down on anything in your apartment or even commented anything in front of you.
There was even one time he did comment in the middle of dinner, "I'm surprised how you maintain everything this clean and organized considering you live with Bokuto…"
"Hey!" Boo complained, mouth full of food, while everyone laughed.
That same night, Boo had pestered you about how the Sakusa Kiyoomi liked you. Of course, you couldn't believe it. The man barely spoke to you outside of those moments the team was present at your apartment. 
It was until one night, when everyone came of course after practice to have dinner you were already cooking, when he did something you never thought he would do.
Of course, the amount of noise they made even before getting inside the apartment was a clear sign they were almost there. Shouyo and Boo always came straight to hug, picking you up and squishing you hard as a greeting. Atsumu would fist pump and wink at you before throwing himself on the sofa, of course putting some other volleyball's team match on the TV. While Omi would simply bow slightly with his head, not even getting too close to you, standing on the entrance of the kitchen.
By this time, you already knew and respected each one of them and their ways to show how much they appreciated you.
"It smells so good, Y/N," whined Shouyo as he entered the kitchen and made his way to the fridge to pick something to drink.
Omi was so quiet you have not realized he had followed the red-mostly orange-head and was standing at the door of the kitchen.
"I'm glad you think that," you smiled happily.
"He says that about almost everything. He would eat a bug and say exactly the same thing if he's hungry enough."
To say that you were surprised to hear his deep voice speak that amount of words was small. Yet, you couldn't avoid finding it funny how he always got the cleverest answers and dark humor. So you laughed, while Shouyo pouted, drinking from the beer he took from the fridge–it was Friday night after all.
You kept cooking, smiling and listening to how Shouyo complained to his teammate how evil he was with him when he was all nice to him.
"Alright you two…" you meddled, smiling happily at the incessant noise from everyone around, "If you're gonna keep arguing, you could at least help on setting the table, right?"
They both nodded while moving around to find what they needed, still arguing, but now about something else which sounded like Shouyo's height. Omi loved getting on Shouyo's nerves when it came to his height.
"What's that, Y/N?" Shouyo suddenly asked, signaling to a set of a plate, forks, a glass and a mug that were separated in a corner of the cupboard.
"Oh. That's Omi's," you said, your attention anywhere but said man.
"I don't remember leaving my stuff here," he commented, with no mean intention in his voice towards you.
"No, I mean… I know you don't like your stuff mixed with everyone's, so I picked a set I always clean twice and kept it separated from everything else. No one touches or uses that but you," you answered him, still looking at the food you were cooking over the oven.
Oh, God, kill me now, was all you thought as silence reigned in the kitchen.
But then, you felt a tall, warm presence behind you. You knew it was Omi, Shouyou was not that tall–he was only a head over yours, while you knew Omi was much taller.
It was the first time the Sakusa Kiyoomi got that close to you and it shocked you to the core. But what surprised you the most was when you felt his chin rest on your head comfortably.
"Thank you, Y/N," you could feel the vibrations of his deep voice and the rumble of his chest on your back saying your name, his entire dark but comfy aura so close to you, all you could think was how good it felt.
If you would have turned a bit to Shouyo's direction, you would have seen him with his eyes open wide, like those funny cartoons where their eyes popped off their face to express shock. Thankfully, he didn't say anything, he simply turned on his feet and flew from the kitchen to the living room where Tsumu and Boo were.
"You're welcome," was all you could say, almost a whisper, as he comfortably stayed there, barely a centimeter of distance between his body and yours.
If you weren't shocked enough by that, you definitely almost collapsed when you felt one of his fingers timidly caress your hand that was not holding the spoon you were cooking with, resting next to your hip. It had been barely a touch, yet the warmth and little tingling it provoked made you take a deep breath to gather your mind straight.
If you hadn't before, now you definitely were falling for this rare specimen. 
Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes
retroellie · 4 months
Text
Polluted
Tumblr media
Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.
A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)
Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer
Word count: 1.9K
Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.
You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.
Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.
"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."
His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.
You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.
"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"
You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.
One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.
"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"
His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.
"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."
You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.
"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"
You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.
You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.
"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."
Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.
"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."
You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.
"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"
Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.
"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.
Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.
"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 
You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.
1K notes · View notes
jelliedink · 6 months
Text
Ancient Vampire Partner as a Service Top Headcanons
Warnings: Pure smut. Mentions of death, blood, violence. No gender specified, but reader do get periods. Implication of abusive relationship. Author's note: I wrote an extensive introduction to this post, but then I realised that was mostly me rambling. So I decided to get straight (and kinda gay) to the point. Shall we? Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Tumblr media
Here's my take on how I think the sexual dynamic between a human and their ancient vampire lover would go:
Your ancient vampire partner knew they had to be gentle and careful with you. Much like us when carrying a newborn puppy, they were aware of how easily your bones could break if they got too excited. Since sex for them was now more of an echo from their human days and not a survival need, they were ok with going without sex for long periods of time, perhaps waiting until you were ready to be turned. For now, they thought it was safer to wait.
You, on the other hand, were very much not ok with this. You were human, your body evolved to make happy chemicals from sex. As if that wasn't enough, the main survival strategy of your partner's species was looking hot as fuck to lure humans, getting their thoughts so clouded by lust that they'd ignore the stone cold touch, the sharp fingernails, the bluish hue of their skin and the sharpness of their teeth. Your whole body went crazy just by looking at them.
They knew you couldn't help it. So, whenever you were needy and in the mood, they didn't mind putting you on their lap, back against their chest, and touch you until you've had enough. They loved being able to make you feel good, whispering on your ear while playing with your body: "What do you want to try today?" "Do you want me to get one of our toys?" "Does it feel good like this?" "Is this intensity enough?"
In the days you desperately needed to feel them inside of you, they ignored their own desire while watching you ride them mesmerised, gently guiding your hips up and down while kissing and caressing whatever part of your beautiful, soft and warm body they could reach. God, how pretty you looked with your eyes out of focus, using their body to get off and scratch that itch.
And when you were too tired they gladly took the lead, paying attention to your every reaction, focusing on how to serve you better: "Hold my shoulders tight so I can reach deeper without hurting you, ok?" "Slow and steady, precious, or you'll be tired before we can have the amount of fun you deserve." "Here, it will feel even better if you touch yourself too."
But they were far from being selfless. The moment you got your period they morphed into a feral and self-serving beast, unable to control themselves any more than a hungry lion would if near a trapped deer. This was one of the very few times they could feed off of you and they were not letting all this food go to waste.
You'd get properly cushioned in a comfortable position, a heating pad on your lower belly, your legs on their shoulders and they would lick you clean. Prepare to be there for a while, no amount of begging would make them let you get up until they're finished. Of course you always tried to. Every time this happened, they'd first try to convince you with love and praises, but their tone got increasingly more authoritative and mean until you couldn't recognise your lover anymore. "My baby, you taste so good." "How can you be so good to me, my little angel?" "Can't you hold on just a bit more? Please? For me?" "Oh, you're being tortured with too many orgasms? You poor thing, that sounds so terrible." "Pretty, you're not getting up. Don't think that you have a choice just because I'm trying to be nice." "Maybe if I show you how painful I can make it you'll realise how good you're having it stop being such a whiny ungrateful brat. You want this, my baby? You want me to hurt you? So don't make me hurt you."
In the end they'd kiss your whole weak body and your puffed teary face while begging for your forgiveness. They'd say they don't deserve you, they are a monster, they just don't know how to control themselves when you smell like this and they were so hungry. You'd be pampered: a hot bath, body massage, your favourite food, that thing you've been eyeing for so long but was way too out of your budget.
They'd do just about anything you ask for. Anything but promise not to do it again.
2K notes · View notes
cofigelly · 7 months
Text
ೀ SIX EYES
——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader
synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture
word count; ~2k words
contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references
notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently
——————————————————————————
the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.
well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.
in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.
you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.
that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.
in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?
but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.
paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.
just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”
you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”
your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”
you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you. 
brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.
this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row. 
the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."
his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.
“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone. 
you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”
he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”
“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”
briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door. 
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.
he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.
everything about you captivated gojo satoru.
from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.
he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.
and another. and another.
he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.
there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.
but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.
you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).
he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
there is no fucking way.
gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.
hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?
you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.
this guy has no shame.
gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.
"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.
"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."
wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"
you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”
after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"
you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.
for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.
it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.
lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—
"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.
you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.
you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.
you knew you wanted to feel this way again.
——————————————————————————
final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)
1K notes · View notes
ckret2 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.
####
"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."
Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.
"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 
"Uh-huh."
"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"
Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.
Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"
Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"
"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."
Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."
The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"
"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.
"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 
"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.
Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.
"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.
Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."
"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."
"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."
Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."
"Mac and cheese."
Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.
It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"
"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"
Ford shushed him.
Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."
"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out of saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."
"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."
Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."
"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.
"But I didn't go insane."
"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."
It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.
Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.
Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."
"You have been there before."
Ford didn't answer.
"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."
Ford thought of Fiddleford.
Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."
"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?
But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"
Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"
Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"
"What?" Bill said.
"What's the rest of it?"
"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."
Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"
"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."
Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"
Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"
"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."
Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.
Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."
Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"
"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.
He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.
####
"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.
"If you like it, you can have it."
"What happened to your coat?"
"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.
"How...?"
"I'll fill you in later."
Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 
He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.
Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.
####
The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.
But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.
The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.
Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.
If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.
This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 
But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.
It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.
The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.
But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.
But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour
That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.
The triangle was terrified.
In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.
He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.
Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."
The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.
And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.
He stared in disbelief.
"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.
His stomach flopped. He was dead.
"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"
He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."
"Eclipses can zigzag?"
"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—
There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"
The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.
The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.
He howled in rage.
He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—
And the thing in the sky.
Stopped.
And looped back.
And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?
He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.
It stopped straight over him.
He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.
And they were looking at him.
A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.
He was terrified.
He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:
"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"
Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"
"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"
"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?
"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."
Him? "Me?"
"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.
Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."
The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.
It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"
The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"
"You... pass in front of the sun."
The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.
The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.
Shadows.
His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.
"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."
His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"
He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."
"But—"
"I can't," he said. "I can't."
He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.
####
And that was it.
From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.
From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"
And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.
Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.
People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.
Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.
It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.
He barely noticed.
####
For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.
He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.
He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.
He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.
And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.
In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.
But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 
True horror was knowing he mattered.
He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.
For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.
He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.
He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.
The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.
If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?
####
He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.
And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.
It would fester for the next trillion years.
####
(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)
457 notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter Thirteen - Worlds Away
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
1.5K
I'm gonna preface this by saying I'm a McLaren girlie, but this is the final chapter! Thanks for the support on this series, guys and, as always, blurb requests are open
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
You'd think, now that they weren't teammates anymore, they could date openly. She and Lando could finally be together, now that she was driving for Mercedes and he was still with McLaren.
But things weren't that simple. They couldn't just be together, not without putting their careers on the line. For some people, it might have been worth it. But this was Formula One. Both of them knew they couldn't risk losing their seats.
Now that they weren't living in the same apartment, hooking up was impossible for them. She moved away, moved closer the Brackley. Their Formula One careers kept them so busy that they didn't have time for each other.
Y/N missed Lando. She missed him a fuck tonne. Ever since their affair started, she hadn't had anyone else. It had only been Lando. He was the only one that she wanted. He was the one that she couldn't have.
Lando missed her just as much as she missed him. He stayed in their apartment for just a little longer before finding a place of his own. There were several nights where he would sit in her old room, back against the door as he clutched the last hoodie of his that she wore. He hadn't washed it yet, couldn't bring himself to.
The next time they saw each other was a Grand Prix weekend. It was an incredibly emotional reunion, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from running into his arms. "I've missed you," she whispered as she held him so fucking tight.
Lando had his eyes closed as he held her just as tight. For once they didn't care about the cameras around them. He whispered something in her ear, something that had her shaking her head.
They went their separate ways, her walking towards the Mercedes garage as Lando went to McLaren. She missed the orange, she realised as she turned to watch him.
Suddenly somebody intercepted her, linked their arm through hers. "How are you doing?" Asked Max as he walked with her.
She looked up at him, glaring. "What're you getting at, Max?" She asked, her tone harsh.
"Look, I know about you and... him. I just wanna know how you're doing with the move," he answered.
He had led her behind the Mercedes garage, hidden away from the cameras. "I miss him," she whispered, her eyes looking down at the floor. "So fucking much, Max. I really fucking miss him." Tears sprung to her eyes and Max couldn't stop himself from pulling her close.
She kept her feet still, but she let her body fall against is. "There there," Max mumbled as he patted her awkwardly leaning body. "You know what they say, right? If you love something-"
"Let it go. If it doesn't come back, it was never really yours," she answered as she stood up straight and wiped under her eyes. "I'm trying, Max. I'm really fucking trying, but it's so damn hard. There's nobody but him, and I can't have him."
"Focus on racing," he said. "You're gonna need to if you wanna beat me."
It was strangely reassuring, and it got her moving into the Mercedes garage. Beating Max was motivation enough.
Letting Lando go wasn't going to be easy, she knew that. But it especially wasn't going to be easy when they were so close on track.
Y/N on track was a lot different to Y/N off track. Especially now that she was in the Mercedes. She was determined to get her first win, and nothing was going to stop her.
The more the season went on, the more she saw Lando as a distraction. She still loved him, still wanted nobody but him. But now she wanted the win more than that. Y/N on track didn't care about her feelings for Lando. Y/N on track was hungry for the win.
Australia 2021. She didn't know which McLaren was behind her, not until her engineer told her. He was trying to overtake on a corner, but their wheels made contact. She went spinning into the gravel, left dead last.
The both of them had to crawl back to the pits for a new set of tyres. The both of them were furious, the both of them thought the other should have left space.
They didn't talk about it, didn't address it. They didn't talk very much anymore anyway. No longer did they run into each others arms, and their conversations were brief. You could hardly tell they were once friends.
It happened again in the next race. This time she tried to make a move on him, but it didn't work and both of them found themselves out of the race. Fuck, were they mad. They scream expletives down the radio before climbing out of their undrivable cars.
On the third time, there was a confrontation. They both climbed out of their cars and began screaming at each other, pointing accusing fingers.
They wanted to hurt each other. She was pissed about the crash and he was pissed about the crash and her move to Mercedes. But it was only the crash that he could get mad about.
"You asshole!" She screamed, resisting the urge to push him. "Learn to fucking drive!"
"You're telling me to learn to drive? Fuck you!" He shouted back as he pulled off his gloves.
"Are you trying to fuck up my career? Are you that jealous?" She hissed, pulling off her helmet.
"What've I got to be jealous of? Your lack of wins? The massive point gap between you an Lewis?"
"Come talk to me when an actually good team wants you." She went to turn away, to walk back to the pitlane, but Lando had one last thing to say.
"I can't believe I ever fucking loved you."
She choked up. She couldn't help it, but she choked up. All he wanted to do was hurt her, that was clear now.
She turned back around and marched towards him. "Fuck you, Lando Norris," she spat. "I never want to see you again."
"Good!" He shouted as she marched away. This time she didn't look back.
Maybe there would have been a chance for them to reconcile, but they didn't want to. The both of them were incredibly stubborn, and neither of them were going to fold.
There were so many instances where she ended up crying on Max's shoulder about Lando. Max was the only one that knew (she thought), the only one she could confide in. Every time she cried against him, Max said the same phrase. He said it so often that it was starting to lose its effect. "Concentrate on trying to beat me."
The Y/N on track was trying to forget about Lando. But it seemed like her only crashes were to do with him. He may have tried to speak to her, but she just walked away, refusing to give him the time of day.
There were incredibly awkward press conferences, where Y/N and Lando were paired up, the two of them with some of the other drivers. Of course they were asked about being teammates and about their friendship. Some brave interviewers even asked about the return of their rivalry.
They were diplomatic with their answers. Neither of their teams wanted them to add fuel to the fire, so their PR teams jumped on it, gave them the media training they needed to deal with it and put out the fires between them.
For a few races they stayed out of each others way. A bad qualifying meant Lando spent most of the race at the back of the rid, away from her for one race. They got in a few more fights but managed to stay on track, managed not to make contact.
It was the night before the final race of the year. Abu Dhabi 2021, the title decider. It was between Max and Lewis, and Y/N was fighting with Sergio Perez for third.
There was a knock at her hotel room door. With a yawn, she pulled the door open, welcoming whoever it was into her room.
Lando Norris strode in, wearing his orange McLaren shirt. His heart was beating erratically in his chest as he looked at her, as he looked at the girl he once loved. "This needs to stop," was all he said.
She nodded her head in agreement. "It's getting silly now," she said in agreement, sitting on the end of her bed.
Lando sat beside her. It was too close to the times before, too close to what they once had, that Y/N shuffled away. "I..." he began, but he trailed off. There was nothing more he could say that she didn't already know. What would telling her that he once loved her gain? Nothing.
He walked towards the door. "Lando?" She called, and he stopped in his tracks.
She stood and walked over to him, her hand outstretched. "Good luck out there," she said and he hesitantly grasped her hand. "And I look forward to our professional relationship."
She might have well put a knife in his chest. Lando gripped her hand and shook it. "I look forward to our professional relationship too."
They were world away from each other now. It seemed like there was no going back.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @hiireadstuff @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld
604 notes · View notes
glitterjay · 2 months
Note
PLS PLS PLS I NEED SOME ROUGH OR SOFT SMUT FOR THUS MAN IM FKINF CRAYZ PLS 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
Tumblr media
⭒ choking, make out, head (m. receiving), suggestive content under cut, mdni
⭒ c's note: this won.... i hope this is good enough!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin (if you would like to be part of it send an ask!)
jungwon had always been a very reserved guy. he was in perfect shape, just very shy overall. so when you suggested wearing matching outfits that included sleevles shirts, he was thinking about it.
he eventually gave in to see you happy, but boy was he nervous. you guys had a date at this restaurant you found, and all jungwon could do was hug himself to try and hide his arms a little.
"babe, you look amazing, i promise." you readsured. he knew you were telling the truth, but he couldn't help feeling a little insecure.
it was until you guys were at the restaurant that he noticed how long you'd stare at his arms. your mouth would hang open slightly, almost drooling, god knows what going through your head. the way you swallowed every time his arms would flex a littlex and how your eyes would travel to the ring on his fingers.
you had chosen the whole outfit for him, accesories included. little did you know this would have you dripping wet in a restaurant at peak hour.
"darling, close your mouth," he said, looking around for signs of someone noticing how hungry you were for him. in reality, everyone was busy enough to care about a young cuple having a date. let alone the girlfriend openly eye fucking the guy in front of her who she calls boyfriend.
"the food is going to take a while," you pointed out, to which jungwon simply nodded along. "can you come with me real quick?"
his face was that of a lost puppy, leaning to the side cutely as he cocked an eyebrow at you. you simply stood up and took his arm (which felt wonderful under your touch) and rushed him to the section labeled as "bathrooms."
"wow wow wow. are we really doing this here?" he asked the moment you took both of your bodies to a family restroom, locking the door behind you. not replying to the million questions that followed, you took his arms in your hands, caressing them softly.
"i couldn't hold it anymore." you defended yourself. your hands traveled to his own, interlocking your fingers with his right hand, as you took the left one and landed it perfectly around your own neck.
if he was being completely honest, this whole situation had him rock solid. your needy and hungry eyes mixed with the fact that you both were in a restaurant was only exciting him more.
his hand squeezed your neck. not hard enough to cut the air, but just the right amount to make you gasp. jungwon took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.
he was a messy kisser, and you loved that about him. his own desperation took over quickly, turning the make out into a war of whose tongue could assert dominance over the other. and of course, jungwon always won.
you were quick to separate yourself from him, sushing his whines with a giggle as you dropped to your knees. your face was right in front of the very obvious buldge that had grown under his jeans. there was no way you could let him walk out of there like that, so you took matters into your own hands. or, in this case, your mouth.
jungwon helped by unlocklong the belt that was just there for aesthetics and unbuttoned his jeans as fast as his clumbsy hands let him. the view of his own body towering over you made his cock twitch. his right hand went straight to your hair, grabbing a handful of it just cause he could. the rings added a visual to the whole thing. maybe he would start using them more.
you licked your lips and pulled down his boxers, letting his cock free to the world. the tip was already leaking precum, which you licked as if it were a popsicle. jungwon let out a low humm, pushing your head closer to his hip.
you grabbed the base of his dick and started doing your job. the way you were able to get at it at full speed in a matter of seconds never failed to amaze your boyfriend. if there was one thing jungwon loved, it was getting head from you.
-
you could tell he was close by the way his grip on your head got tighter and how his hips rammed into your throat, making you gag. the vibration of your sounds sent electric shocks through his whole body. his soft hums turned into loud, high moans.
for the final show, you got as much air as you could through your nose and swalled him deep. your nose was able to touch his pelvis, and this sent jungwon over the edge. he didn't even get to warn you, his cock releasing the shots of warm cum right in the back of your thorat.
he was gasping for air, chest moving hard and fast as he took in deep breaths. you whipped the bits of cum and saliva that had dripped from the corner of your mouth, helping him get his boxers and pants back in place.
he giggled when you kissed him sweetly, as if you hadn't just sucked the life out him just a few seconds ago.
"i might have to start wearing more revealing clothes."
© glitterjay | tumblr
310 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
Text
you're not jonathan
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'no upside down au' rated t wc: 997 cw: recreational drug use, language tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending but we all know what's gonna happen
🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿
Steve was not supposed to be the one picking up the drugs for the party.
He wasn't even going to the party.
But Jonathan couldn't get it from his usual guy, said he was back home in California for the summer, and it wasn't like Robin had a hookup.
Eddie Munson didn't technically deal anymore, but he made exceptions for previous customers, and Jonathan had been a regular during high school.
It wasn't shocking news to Steve, but what was shocking was hearing all these stories about how Eddie didn't even usually meet someone during daylight hours. Except today, apparently.
Steve tripped over another branch, barely caught himself before falling on his face.
"I better get so high off this shit," he said to himself.
"I only sell the good shit."
Steve froze.
Somehow, he'd missed a person walking up to him, probably when he nearly ate dirt.
"Is there any reason a hike is required to get some weed?" Steve asked, brushing his hands on his pants to get the remnants of the tree trunk he saved himself on.
Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, raising an unimpressed brow.
"No. Jonathan suggested the place."
Hard to believe the guy who hated being outside for more than a few minutes would have suggested a half mile trek into the woods, but Steve didn't really care to argue.
"O...kay. Well, I've got the cash if you wanna get this over with," Steve said as he reached into his pockets that were..."Fuck."
He started patting his pockets, his shirt, looking around him at the ground to try to find his wallet.
"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, coming closer.
"I lost my wallet. Shit!"
"Alright, I can help you look, man. It's not a big deal. Gotta be somewhere, right?" Eddie started looking around him, though it was half-hearted at best. "What's it look like?"
"It's brown. Um, leather?" Steve suddenly forgot any other details about his wallet. How convenient.
"Okay, so the color of the ground. Should be easy."
Steve snorted.
Eddie was smirking as he walked the way Steve came, checking the ground around him as he did so.
Steve followed behind, but he was pretty certain they wouldn't find it.
After ten minutes of looking, Eddie sighed.
"We should just smoke a bit. Take the edge off. Ya know?"
"I don't think that's a good idea. I can't pay you until I find my wallet," Steve said as he continued looking, bending down to get a closer look at a spot that seemed like the color of his wallet.
"On the house."
Steve stood straight up.
"Really?"
"Can't really kick ya when you're down, can I? Plus, I planned on smoking after you left anyway. We can share," Eddie shrugged, like it was no big deal.
Steve had never gotten high outside of house parties, the comfort of his own home or a friend's home soothing his anxieties about losing his inhibitions.
But out here? With Eddie? It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.
"Alright," Steve shrugged back.
Eddie must have sensed something about him, though, because he didn't let him take more than three puffs of the joint before he put it out and found a collection of boulders for them to sit on.
"You ever think about how trees are alive but they don't have ears?" Steve asked a minute later.
"Oh, you're that kind of high." Eddie poked his hand, making him look over at him. "You eat today?"
"Maybe. I've been busy. Do you think trees get hungry?" Steve replied.
Eddie searched his face before letting his pinky rest against Steve's hand on the rock.
It felt like fire.
"They do."
"But they don't have pancakes or cheeseburgers. Like, we can't grind it up and put it in the dirt for them, right?" Steve's jaw dropped. "Can we?"
Eddie watched as Steve looked over at some of the trees surrounding them.
"I don't think we can, no."
"A shame. They're missin' out. You know who else is missin' out? Jonathan! He made me come here and he didn't even tell me you had long hair or like the nicest eyelashes. Which is weird because he didn't shut up about anything else about you but he forgot about the eyelashes!" Steve's hand curled around Eddie's pinky. "And you look warm."
Eddie's brows raised.
He wasn't sure who Steve was. Jonathan had just insisted he was cool.
But Jonathan hadn't mentioned that his hair looked softer than silk, or that his eyes were wide and innocent despite his lip curling up in the corner in annoyance.
Jonathan seemed to have left a lot of things out.
"Well, it is summer. It's pretty warm," Eddie gulped. "But you do look a little cold."
"I get cold easy. Robin says it's because I don't eat enough red meat or something. Low irony or something."
Eddie was so endeared.
"I could help you stay warm? Walk you back to your car if you want?"
Eddie did not want that, but he knew Steve probably needed to walk off some of this high before his friends started to worry about him.
"Don't wanna walk," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "My head is walking."
"Should I try to head back and get one of your friends?"
Steve shook his head.
"Be fine in an hour."
"Okay," Eddie put his arm around Steve's shoulder, surprised to find that Steve was shivering. "Hey, you okay?"
"You do have good shit."
"That's not an answer," Eddie chuckled.
"I'm good. Best."
Eddie let him burrow further into his side and waited for his shivering to subside before he suggested heading back to his car again.
Steve still refused, and Eddie didn't have it in him to push.
Not when they were finding shapes in the clouds and he was holding Steve close.
He'd definitely owe Jonathan a lot of product if this went the way he wanted it to.
791 notes · View notes
allur1ngs · 5 months
Text
✮ the glasses stay on✮
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tw: unedited, smut, oral--r!receiving, possessive!bada, a bit of jealous!bada, bada's a teeny bit mean (not rlly she says sorry right after), bada wears her glasses while she eats you out, bada eats it through your panties and uses your panties to get you off, pussy slapping...., panty stealing, sex in bada's office & on her desk, ass grabbing, risky sex--possibility of getting caught
a/n: ib this and this ask, this one has a bit of an intro before going straight into the smut, and once again i'm telling everyone to say ty to my wife @bebeyue bcs without her motivation i would not be writing this😚🩷
Tumblr media
Tick tick ticking, every second that passes by winds into an endless staircase of lost time. Bada stares down at her Cartier wristwatch with a mix of distain and guilt.
The hour hand on the clock reminds her that it's five in the afternoon, and she's completed little-to-none of the high-stacking papers in front of her. Truly, it's not Bada's fault. Although she can usually sit in her office and read documents for hours on end with little difficulty--beyond the annoyance that settles in after the third or fourth hour--for some reason, today she simply can't will herself to pick up her black and gold fountain pen, and read or sign any paperwork.
"Something's off." She thinks to herself, slowly picking her gaze up from her watch and staring at the blotted black words in front of her. "There's something I can't seem to get my mind off of, but at the same time I don't know what I'm thinking about--"
Like divine and heavenly intervention, the answer comes to her in the form of a beautiful woman entering her office...you.
"Hope I'm not interrupting you." You quietly creep into Bada's office, with a smile. Your eyes, which had only swept over her quickly when you entered, now take in her full figure, which surprises you.
Rather than wearing her normal black suit jacket and tie, she's wearing a light blue button-up shirt with red and blue stripes running across it, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail braid, wisps of her long side bangs frame her face, making her face shape look sharper.
"You're looking extra good today." You comment, walking up to Bada's desk with your hands behind your back.
"Oh," your fiancée breathes, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate, Her eyes are fixated on your outfit, which is a cute blouse and a short skirt. The lack of fabric allows her to eye the creamy skin of your legs with a hungry gaze. "Thank you. I noticed it was hot in the morning so I decided to wear a looser shirt."
"Well I love it." You say cheekily. Walking around Bada's desk, she immediately scoots her chair back, making space for you to stand in front of her. "I brought you something, by the way."
Your words make Bada look up at you, to which you take your hands from behind your back and open your palm, revealing a pair of silver-framed aviator glasses.
"I couldn't find your usual glasses--"
"I broke them while out on a mission." Bada gives you a sheepish look.
"That explains it then." You laugh. "But that doesn't give you an excuse to not wear your glasses."
"I'm sorry." Bada pouts. She takes her spare glasses from the palm of your hand and puts them on, then suddenly wraps her arms around waist and pulls you into her, pushing her head into your midsection.
You let out an instinctive gasp, but place your hands on top of her head nevertheless.
"Let me make it up to you?" She mumbles into your shirt, dragging her hands from your waist to your ass, grabbing them roughly before she gives them a squeeze.
"Bada--" You exclaim, surprised at her lustful behavior. "Where is this coming from--?"
"I can't focus on my work." Your fiancée huffs. She starts to grope at your ass more, pressing her head against your stomach even more. "Especially not now that you've walked in with this short skirt."
Bada suddenly pulls her head from your midsection, but moves her hands back to your hips to keep you at an arm's length distance. She bunches up the fabric of your skirt, slowly raising it farther and farther up your thigh, until the bottom of your skirt just barely covers your panty-covered pussy.
You take in a sharp breath, your body reacting to her touch by shivering.
"Did you wear this on purpose?" Bada hums, toying with your skirt but never completely flipping it upward...yet.
"Like you said, it's hot." You whisper, placing your hands on her shoulders. "I wanted to wear something fresher."
"But did you have to wear such a short skirt?" Bada looks up at you, smirking as she finally flips up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your panties, which are noticeably damp. "Oh, what's this?" She says, her voice low and cocky. She drags her finger up and down your slit, making more slick pool against the lace of your panties.
"Bada...we shouldn't." You whisper, but your body and heart betrays you. You start to roll your hips against your fiancée's fingers, hoping to get more pressure against your pussy.
"I don't know, it looks like you want it." Bada cocks her head to the side, hearing the way your breath hitches when she moves her fingers along your panties. "Do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you here, in my office, when any of the girls could walk in and see us?"
You gasp at her words, glancing at the door instinctively...but you don't stop grinding your hips against her digits.
Bada watches you with amused dark brown eyes. She huffs a laugh, "Do you like that idea? You want to get caught by the girls and let them see how promiscuous you are?"
You hesitate to answer, far too embarrassed to speak your mind--
"Say something." Bada pulls her fingers away from pussy, staring up at you with domineering look.
"...I--I don't want to get caught." You breathe, lies staining your tongue.
"Really?" Bada's voice pitches upwards in doubt. "Are you lying to me?"
You look away from your fiancée in shame. "N--"
"You know I don't like it when you lie." Bada suddenly uses her strength to push you down on her spread legs, making you let out a surprised noise. "But either way, it doesn't matter. I won't let anyone see you like this, whether you want them to or not."
She takes ahold of your legs and makes sure they're wound tightly around her waist. She starts to drag her chair closer to her desk until your ass is against it, then she pushes you down until your back lays on the desk.
Bada looks down at you, splayed across her desk like an angel--a sinful, debauched angel--but an angel no less. Her mind, which had once been foggy immediately clears into one single, concise thought. "I need her."
Bada leans down to capture your lips in a heated, and passionate dance. It's all tongue--your teeth clash against each other as your fiancée swirls her tongue against yours. At the same time, she pulls at your shirt, only breaking away from your lips to rasp out, "Take it off," in a demanding tone.
You stare into her eyes for a split second before you sit up, taking the ends of your shirt, lifting it upward, and off of you. You're left in only a bra, which makes Bada hiss in satisfaction.
She presses another kiss on your lips, laying you back down on the desk once again, before she begins her descent downwards.
Bada moves under your skirt, and hoping to give her more access you try to remove it, but she immediately stops you.
"Don't." She says, using one of her hands to pin down both of yours. "I like it." She smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers and rubbing it. "You look so pretty in it."
You don't fight against your fiancée, you allow her to touch you through your panties, cruelly giving you the mildest amount of pleasure so that you release slick, but aren't satisfied.
"Bada, you're being mean." You huff, wrapping your legs around her head in hopes of pushing her head closer to your cunt.
"I know." She says cheekily. "But you lied to me, so I think I'm going to have some fun with you."
And have fun she does.
Bada latches her mouth onto your panty-covered pussy in a sudden surge forward. She laps her tongue up and down your slit, just barely rubbing against your clit which makes you let out a loud, blissful sigh and half moan.
She rubs her nose against your folds--the combination of glass and silver frames of her aviators are cold--the temperature difference in comparison to your hot pussy makes it clench around nothing. Bada quickly flattens her tongue as she continues to practically slobber all over your panties. Your juices and her saliva ruin the lace, making them a sopping wet mess.
You start to let out increasingly loud moans, even the simplest of Bada's touches making you cry out for more.
"You're being so loud." She mumbles into your pussy. The words rumble against your skin, which gives you muffled pleasure. "I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught."
You toss your head to the side, looking away from her. "I-I don't."
"There you go again." Bada tuts. She pulls away from your pussy and grabs the edges of your panties. She brings both sides together, creating a thin line of lace that she uses to rub against your clit. The action gives you a delicious amount of pleasure, your mouth falling open as a loud moan leaves your lips. "Do you enjoy lying to me?"
Up and down she moves the lace, using her fingers to separate your folds so she can properly see the way your pussy clenches, pulses, and releases endless amounts of slick.
"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?" Her tone takes a stern pitch, the sound of it making you wetter, but at the same time nervous.
"No." You protest, shaking your head side to side. "Please--"
Bada's strong composure shatters at your whines. She can't help but wear a fond smile as she looks down at you, small tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes. "Don't cry, honey." She cooes, placing her thumb under your eyes to wipe away to clear droplets. "I'm sorry baby, I'm not mad at you. I'll make you feel good--always."
You sniffle a bit, but start to steady your breathing--wide eyes blown as you turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of her hand, silently saying, "I know."
Bada gives you one last fond look before she drags her nose down your stomach, until she reaches that sweet spot between your legs. Mesmerized, she leans down to collect your juices, moving your panties completely to the side to give her unencumbered access to your cunt. She presses her mouth up against it, her glasses bumping into the hood pussy. You watch with bated breath as she once again flattens her hot tongue, giving you one long lick before she dives right in.
Bada moves her head side to side along with her tongue, rubbing your clit deliciously. She catches the skin of your lips and sensually pulls them, then sucks hard on your pussy like it's a lollipop.
"Bada," you somehow manage to choke through your heaving breaths.
She hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine and throughout your entire body.
"Your glasses."
"What about them?" She says, briefly breaking away from your pussy.
"You're going to break them--" looking downward, you would have been able to see your fiancée is staring at you through the hoods of her eyes--her gaze is unwavering, confident, and hypnotic.
But you can't see her eyes because her silver aviator glasses are foggy. They're entirely marked with perspiration, Bada's hot breaths catching against the sticky glass and clinging to it like a lifeline.
Still, as alluring and sensual that image is, the nail in the coffin is the globs of your juices dripping from the edge of Bada's glasses. They come together around the middle of the frames until they make a large dot, then drop down onto your fiancée's pink lips, where she quickly darts her tongue out to lick your saccharine slick into her mouth.
"The glasses stay on." She asserts, giving you one last, unseeable look before she attaches her lips onto your pussy again.
It's ridiculous, really. If you're unable to see Bada's eyes through her glasses, then they were entirely useless sitting on the bridge of her nose--she most likely couldn't even see through them.
But nevertheless, she fucks her tongue into you, drives it in and out of your hole, licks and swirls your clit into her mouth until you're screaming in pleasure, her glasses foggy dripping with your essence as she makes you cum.
Sucking on you one last time, Bada finally pulls away at the sound of your broken whines. She lets out a long breath, a smile instantly forming on her lips as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away the remnants of your orgasm from her lips. She licks it all up like it's a valuable liquid--the elixir of life.
Only then does she take her glasses off--well, she hangs them from the unbuttoned collar of her shirt--as she leans forward, giving your cunt an affectionate slap.
You let out a cute "ouch!" then glare at your fiancée, who only laughs in response.
"Sorry, couldn't help myself." She says sweetly.
"I think you could have." You huff, moving to sit up from Bada's desk.
She chuckles under her breath, before quickly taking ahold of your panties and slipping them off your legs. "Thank you for that." She grins. "I think I can finally focus."
You can't help but laugh as well, "Okay, I'll get going then." You hold out your hand and give Bada an expectant look.
She only stares at you with a cheeky smile. "What?"
You furrow your eyebrows and push out your hand further. "My panties?"
"Oh, these?" Bada holds up your lace panties, her saliva and a mixture of your cum making it wad together into a dripping mess. "I think I'll keep them." She suddenly shoves them into her pocket, completely unbothered by the fact that they'll surely dampen the fabric.
"Bada!" You exclaim, your mouth falling open in shock.
"What, you wanted to wear them?" She smirks. "They're ruined." Taking a step forward, she looms over your figure still perched on her desk, and leans in to speak right into the shell of your ear. "Come find me in a few hours after I've finished my work, and maybe I'll think about giving them back."
Tumblr media
taglist:
@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight, @badasoneandonly @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy, @badasgff, @mikaleialt, @tthe-dark-ssoul, @m0r0s1111, @phoxey, @taruusmoon, @lovebtsforever24, @moonsvrse
(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)
want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it (or be removed from it), and i'll do so immediately!
Tumblr media
581 notes · View notes