Tumgik
#and yeah' it kinda has' but in so many wonderful ways
scribblestatic · 1 day
Text
Hey yo, time for a dose of Sheepzun :3
----
Shen Yuan snuck his way further onto Qiong Ding Peak in search of his student. He rammed a few demons along the way, leaving them laying about in his search. Which, yes, he was leaving a mess, but he didn't have opposable thumbs to clean up after himself and he's kinda busy right now!
After some searching, he heard some wild commotion. It looked to be coming from the central platform of Qiong Ding, right in front of the main hall. Who would attack the main hall first except for some show-off, ah? If you want to infiltrate, start from the corners and bleed inwards so the main brass doesn't notice until it's too late! That's the kind of method that works best in this dog-eat-dog world!
Regardless, he kept himself concealed as he approached, noting that most of the disciples, as expected, wore Qiong Ding Peak colors. A smattered few wore Qing Jing Peak ones, with only a dotted minority wearing those of other peaks. When his ears flicked backwards, he heard a few more Qing Jing Peak disciples on their way.
Ah, interrupting the demons in their effort to break the bridge was a good idea! Perhaps Qing Jing could protect these lambs while waiting for more powerful backup. However, Qing Jing Peak didn't have many disciples, right? If it was one of the other peaks, there'd be more backup...but, of course, they'd mostly be lambs.
Where were the instructors, ah?? Their cultivation should be better than these little ones!
Frustrations aside, Shen Yuan snuck around the back of the crowd, easing his way toward the front. He had to be careful several times to avoid rushing disciples, keeping them from knocking into him or his horns.
Eventually, he made it near the front, only to see...dancing?
No, it was a battle. But it looked more like dancing to him than expected. Their fighting was elegant in a way, but it wasn't the sort of bloody event he'd been expecting between an immortal and a demon. Though, perhaps that had to do with the immortal's lack of spiritual sword. She must be of Luo Binghe's generation, some of whom haven't received their swords yet.
As such, her sword didn't ring with powerful energy, and as Shen Yuan watched, he saw her make a few mistakes. She overextended her arm at times, spun a little too loosely, just minute errors. But they built up, resulting in her loss once the demoness she battled struck her arm and chest.
After she picked herself up from the ground, she walked over to a lofty immortal who was leisurely fanning himself and--
Ah! Wasn't that one of the immortal lords he'd rescued in the cave? He was well! How wonderful!
Indeed, his colors were clearly Qing Jing, and he'd managed to clean himself up quite well. Perhaps he'd been cultivating in a different cave before finding the other...err...the pretty one. Yeah. Shen Yuan looked around briefly, realizing he couldn't see him anywhere. Maybe he was still recovering? He couldn't imagine it took that long, but he's a ram. Maybe it worked differently for humans.
Anyway, this guy, in his silver hair crown, fanning himself leisurely, was clearly some sort of immortal master. And he'd saved this guy's life? Perhaps he had some golden thighs to cling to after all!
...Eh? What a strange thought he just had. What 'golden thighs'?
"This disciple has lost and disgraced the mission, I request that Martial Uncle Shen punish me."
Punishment? No, she didn't deserve any sort of punishment. She'd done her best all things considered. Instead, she needed to learn the places she could've done better and continue her educa--
The immortal huffed, dismissing her with the wave of his fan, his expression curled in derision. The veiled girl managed a respectful bow despite her injured arm, then joined the gaggle of other girls in purple garb much like her own.
?
???
???
What an asshole???
Excuse me, Mr. Immortal, this ram had to save you in the caves! Where do you get off on acting like that little lamb was bothering you with her earnest attempt? Aren't you something of a teacher? Shouldn't you use this as an opportunity for her to learn?!
This Shen guy--
...Shen.
As in, Shen Qingqiu?
The demoness who won against the veiled girl smiled coquettishly, her body loosely covered in red bolts of fabric. So much skin, there was little left to the imagination. Ah, but Shen Yuan didn't think too much of that. As it was, his tail and wool were all that maintained his decency, in the humanoid sense, anyway. He would not be a pot berating a kettle.
Rouged lips parted to show bright teeth, canines a tad too sharp to be strictly human.
"This third trial will determine the victory! Who will you send up for the next trial, Elder Shen? This time, you had better choose carefully."
Agh, it really was Shen Qingqiu, wasn't it?
This lofty immortal with no teaching ability, this man was his Bing-lamb's human shizun? What a waste of a handsome face!
Ah, no, he should wait. It wouldn't be right to judge someone so quickly. After all, that immortal had been trying to help his pretty comrade in the caves, only for his messed up meridians to hinder him. If anything, the fact he's cultivated up to a core formation shows his dedication to the craft. Indeed, perhaps this man was simply somewhat cagey.
When the man spoke, a handsome, if not snide, voice rang out.
"No need for the Young Miss to trouble herself. This Shen has a person in mind."
Oof, he's definitely cagey. And quite apt at insults.
The young miss in question called out for a warrior on her side to come forth for what was apparently the third trial. So, there had been a battle beforehand? Who had fought?
But Shen Yuan's thoughts quickly became distracted when the ground below him shook. He moved out of the way as disciples around him shook and clustered in closer, clearly feeling some fear.
Not that Shen Yuan would blame them, considering the one that stepped out!
The huge demon elder was definitely some sort of giant! At least ten zhang tall, with a thick, hefty build, wearing thorny armor all over his body, he dragged an equally-large sledgehammer behind him. A toothy grin peered out from behind his shaggy hair and helmet.
The demoness in red spread her arms in display.
"I'll give everyone on this immortal mountain a warning first. The spikes on Elder Tian Chui's armor are covered with my family's strongest poison. This kind of poison has no effect on demons, but if a human is pierced, there is no cure."
...Excuse me, Young Miss?
Why would you bring an incurable poison to an immortal's mountain unless you meant to murder? Why bother playing around and fighting three rounds when the last one clearly shows your intent? What kind of infiltration is this?!
Also, Tian Chui?! Was this elder born carrying his sledgehammer the entire time?!! Did his mother look down at his body and say, "Dear demon child, look at you, born with a hammer! Your hammer will one day pierce the heavens and fight the power of the immortals!"
Terrible naming! Absolutely the worst!! Spit on your mother's grave, Tian Chui!!
Shen Yuan was so close to stomping his hooves in irritation, he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from doing so. But goodness, he'd never felt so enraged in his life! Something about being away from Qing Jing and Luo Binghe just made this world and its intricacies ten times worse.
Where was his little lamb? He should get the boy and go back to Qing Jing immediately. At least to get away from this mess!
The disciples around him clearly agreed, airing out their frustrations.
"Stinking demon girl!! Competing is competing! Using a strong poison--what fairness is there!"
Damn right, boy in Qiong Ding robes!
But the demoness just laughed.
"I didn't hide this point. If you feel anything's unfair, or if you're afraid of getting poisoned and losing your life, the custom is to cede the trial. There would be no more need to compete then. We demons won't laugh at you since we cherish life." Her grin sharpened then, clearly mocking. "It's only human."
Ah. She's a bitch.
Shen Yuan's not sure what a 'bitch' is, but whatever it is, she's that. He'd have to find out later.
The disciples continued their complaints, angrily condemning the demons. And, of course, none of them stepped forward. Who would? It's not just human nature to value your own life--it's the nature of all living organisms! Who in their right mind would throw it away once you told them an action would end it?
Shen Qingqiu was clearly thinking the same thing. After all, he was being quite quiet as the bantering slowed. As an immortal master of some sort, surely he wouldn't threaten the lives of his little lambs. He was an adult! It's important to give lambs the opportunity to grow, but it needed to be under controlled circumstances.
Before, with the demoness, there wasn't a threat of death. Now there was. Surely, the master would argue--
“Luo Binghe, you come out.”
...
Eh?
After a beat of silence, the Qing Jing disciples immediately started yelling. Disciples from other peaks barely did so, but they could be excused. They didn't know that Luo Binghe, instead of being a head disciple with 30+ years of cultivation under his belt, was just a wee lamb with less than two decades under his belt, more than half of which were spent in the mortal realm.
Of course, knowing this, Ming Fan--Ming Fan of all people--paled, suggesting he wasn't suitable for the task. A young girl also in Qing Jing robes cried out, attracting Shen Yuan's attention.
Sure enough, he finally found Binghe.
His lamb was stiff, eyes wide. The girl who had cried out was clinging to one of his arms--ah, yes, Ning Yingying--saying in a sort of babyish cry that she didn't want Luo Binghe to fight, stamping her feet much like Shen Yuan wanted to.
Of course! Good girl! She got his Binghe into trouble a few times, but she had a good heart overall!
But the immortal simply raised a brow.
“I said to let him go up so he should go up. Are you unsatisfied with this master’s judgment? Ying-er, let him go.”
As Luo Binghe comforted the girl, his tanned face pale, Shen Yuan shook, his hearing turning to white noise.
What was this? Was this really happening right now?
The boy's just barely 16, and he has had next to no battle experience at all. Although Binghe told him about the trip down the mountain and how Ning Yingying had gotten kidnapped, that experience barely counted for anything. A skinner demon was substantially less threatening than this bear of an elder.
What sort of...
He blinked, ears still ringing, and Luo Binghe stood before the hefty demon, like a sproutling before a fierce storm of demonic energy.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
An anger like no other struck through his body. This...he had to stop this. If Luo Binghe met his end here, he wouldn't be able to live with himself--
But another thought came to him.
He was a teacher, was he not? At least, Luo Binghe trusted him to be a teacher.
And this situation... Luo Binghe was not prepared for it. And so, he should step in...
But something told him to wait. Something nagged at the back of his mind to stay his hooves and watch. It was the same sort of feeling that drew him to the cave, only this time, it was...light.
Positive.
...Although this sort of thing could be like a lamb to the slaughter, an old story he'd heard from another culture also came to mind. Of a young man wielding only a slingshot against a giant. He couldn't remember the names of the subjects in the sacred texts...Dà Wèi [大卫 - David] and Jùrén [巨人 - Goliath], maybe?
Anyway, from what little he could remember in his strange, hazy recollections was that Da Wei, despite being heavily outclassed, won against Juren just using that slingshot he had.
Shen Yuan's little lamb...perhaps he was just as powerful.
Despite his strong desire to interfere, he shakily placed his hoof back down, teeth gritting.
...He would trust in Binghe's power. What he needed more than protection was belief. He needed someone to truly believe in him. And so, as his shizun, he would take that position and put all of his power into believing in Luo Binghe's success.
And so, with the heavy slam of Elder Tian Chui's sledgehammer, the battle began.
Shen Yuan watched carefully, his eyes solely on Luo Binghe. If he would not interfere, then he would catalogue all his movements. Every single place he could've been better, every single move he could improve. He would do his job as his teacher.
He choked down a bleat the first time the hammer made contact with Luo Binghe's body.
But he also watched as the boy rolled, redirecting as much of the pressure as possible to reduce damage. He was, undoubtedly, still hurt, but he showed no weakness.
Indeed, a prey animal could not show any weakness. Doing so could spell death.
Even a mouse, when cornered, opens its mouth and squeaks a war cry against the cat hunting it, threatening with its little teeth.
With enough of an opening, that little mouse would jump forward and bite.
Luo Binghe had taken such lessons to heart, searching for the best place to strike. But it was very difficult. Trying to strike would mean getting closer to the poisoned armor which could kill him.
He was as spry on his feet as possible, still getting hit and nicked at times, but far from the sort of failure one would expect of a poorly trained disciple.
Even so, Cang Qiong's disciples were losing faith.
“Isn’t this a sure loss? What is there to compete?”
Shut up, Qiong Ding disciple.
Eventually, even the demon side recovered from their stupor, jeering at Luo Binghe as he took and avoided hit after hit, no closer to landing a single blow on Elder Tian Chui than before.
The elder bellowed out a laugh that echoed across the area as he caught Luo Binghe with his hammer again.
"This little doll had better admit defeat soon and get off the stage! This old man can still leave you a life!"
A life. Not alive.
Being alive and living a life were two different things, with the context changing depending on who said it and what they meant.
Many of the mortals below were living a life. Those with crippled legs and blinded eyes were living a life of struggle more so than others. The wealthy and affluent could be said to truly be alive. The immortals, with the resources to pursue their immortality, could be said to be living a life worth being alive for.
For some reason, Shen Yuan thought of a human in a strange white room.
He heard beeping from several tall devices near some sort of futuristic bed.
The figure in the bed had short, wavy hair, some of it splayed on the pillow, and a clear mask-like device over his face.
He was pale, dark circles under his eyes, and when he opened them, they stared out at the window, the light too bright for Shen Yuan's imagination to see what was outside. But he could see it.
Longing. Desire.
A painful, reaching drive to leave the pale, beeping room and be alive.
Binghe will be alive.
He is alive, and he will remain that way. He need not accept the scraps of life some elder demon would throw at him. No, Luo Binghe could take it for himself.
With that in mind, Shen Yuan put power into his thoughts, and, mentally reaching out to the boy, he spoke to him.
--
'Luo Binghe, you will win.'
20 notes · View notes
shuploc · 4 months
Note
Have you managed to play bg3 at all yet?
Omg, have I? 😭
I got sick over the Christmas holiday and had to spend New Year's alone yesterday, and since I didn't have anyone to give a NY's smooch to, I got on BG3 so I could smooch Astarion (it might come as a shock to ya'll, but I'm rather insane)
I ended up finishing my third run then and went to bed lmao. I have about 255 hours played currently, and right now I'm trying to decide what I should do for my next run 😅 I absolutely love this game so much
67 notes · View notes
capisback · 2 years
Note
Top 5 one piece side characters go
1. Yamato
2. Makino
3. Koala
4. Bon Clay
5. Perona
honorable mentions: Moda and Aisa
3 notes · View notes
astrxealis · 7 months
Text
i've stopped rambling abt fandom stuff on tumblr as much bcs i do it more on my priv twt but it's sooo crazy how i reach max tags & max tweets in a thread pretty easily. oh god.
1 note · View note
evilminji · 1 month
Text
Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...
W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?
Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.
Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.
He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?
Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.
Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.
Yeah, he can SORTA push through.
But he suuuucks.
And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.
He figured he could ramble about Space!
It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?
So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.
But a few they WILL.
Some of which, are currently? Only half written.
But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.
Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???
He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."
It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.
He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.
But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.
....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.
And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.
Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.
Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*
And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!
And no one can get rid of it.
Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.
2K notes · View notes
sutorus · 7 months
Text
✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
Tumblr media
GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
Tumblr media
a/n sorry
5K notes · View notes
nathaslosthershit · 2 months
Text
A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
2K notes · View notes
ifwebefriends · 17 days
Text
My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]
Tumblr media
ID in ALT
More thoughts under the cut
So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.
This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.
Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:
The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.
When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.
So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.
I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.
The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.
I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.
I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.
So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.
I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.
On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.
So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!
968 notes · View notes
danibeanie · 2 months
Text
astro observations MARS edition
-its so easy to spot a earth mars imo. 🧚🏼 They have a no bs energy to them. very practical and level headed they will get their work done and don’t need anyone’s help either!
🧚🏼‍♂️virgo mars=workaholics HEAVY and yeah they just don’t know how to take a break like please take care of yourself more. a bit critical but its comes from them wanting the best for you.
🧚🏼cap mars girlies have such dominant energy it’s very easy for men to be intimidated by these woman. they demand authority without even trying.
🧚🏼I’ve met very little taurus mars in my life which is surprising coming from a taurus rising but they can come off intimidating at first ngl😭 I believe it’s just that nonchalantness they have idk how to explain it but they just dgaf LMAO. they just give a don’t interrupt my work or else😇
🧚🏼‍♀️I have a soft spot for cap mars and scorpio mars it’s no wonder mars exalts in these signs. it’s something admirable coming from a weak mars :,)
🧚🏼‍♀️so many people talk about scorpio mars sexual energy and while yes THEY DO HAVE THAT. i love the determination they put into EVERYTHING. If a scorpio mars wants something they WILL get it.? wether it be work, school, or a relationship. I notice in relationships they tend to study the person b4 initiating and stare often LMAO
🧜🏼‍♀️I attract so many pisces mars in my life, I feel like water mars attract each other way often. they have this easy going dreamy energy to them. they really do go with the flow, kind, a bit head in the clouds but very vulnerable people.
👼🏻as a cancer mars it’s so hard to have motivation when your just not doing well at all. the moon linking with mars makes you think everything emotionally and even thought it’s considered a weakness I believe it’s something beautiful :,) no but seriously I won’t do anything if I don’t feel like it ugh
🧚🏼‍♀️I have a love/hate relationship with aries mars and I believe it’s because they either fall into 11 or 12 house which is not really a good place for synastry but besides that they come off VERY bold. even though mars exalts in this sign I feel like it doesn’t do well in it?😭 now their anger will show real quick but it’s sizzles down just as fast and they have A TON OF ENERGY. can come off insensitive but it really depends on other placements in the chart.
🧚🏼‍♀️leo mars grab people’s attention so quick it’s crazy… they talk and you can just FEEL their energy. I love leo energy and they’re such good souls and funny people. just like other fire mars bold with what they do.
🧚🏼‍♀️I feel like many people water down sag mars anger… my dad has a sag mars and it’s so scary when he gets mad. also the pluto in sag generation can intensify this placement. they have a very philosophical mind and always think about the bigger picture which I like! It’s probably the jupiter influence, really random but I feel like these people would be great teachers LMAO
🧚🏼‍♀️gemini mars are so chaotic and this is coming from someone with a gemini stellium😭 they talk a lot and I love yapping with these people . they have such a fun vocabulary but they can just come off a big wish washy with their energy. It’s like they can just flip a random switch and put a whole diff vibe out. they can really hurt people with their words but their determination is just if they feel quirky that day I feel.
🧚🏼‍♀️now the only libra mars I’ve met is my mom and all I can say is that she avoids confrontation like no other. comes off as passive and it’s kinda ironic me saying this as a cancer mars but yeah. they find beauty in everyday routine which I think is the venusian energy.very kind people and love taking care of themselves
🧚🏼‍♀️never met a aquarius mars so I can’t really say anything but I feel like they would have a eccentric energy! they probably would love hanging out with their friends and find joy in work If there’s something different to do everyday.
QUICK MARS DATING OBSERVATION. 🧚🏼‍♀️
we know that mars energy represents man and that’s usually the first thing I notice in men obv when dating.
-pisces mars men are very shy their cute and lovey but it’s gonna be hard to really know what their feeling cause YOUR gonna have to make the move😭 saying this in the nicest way but they get too in their head about what to do and then they just don’t do it lmao.
- scorpio mars man and I feel like this is one of the few placements that matches my cancer mars. theirs just this underlying feeling of I know ur hella passionate and that’s okay cause I am too.😍they will INITIATE that’s for sure
-sag mars men love:,) this guy was older than me by like 3 years but our chemistry was so good and I think it’s because my venus and his mars made a opposition( good balance). I learned a lot from him
- mars 4th house synastry -I WANNA TAKE CARE OF UUUUU
-mars 7th house synastry - let’s get into a relationship rn even though I’ve talked to you for only a month 😍
-mars 6th house synastry- wow let me take you everywhere with me and let’s basically live together😭
-mars 5th house synastry-“you make me feel like im livin a teenage dream”
-mars 11th house synastry-friends but more than friends? But friends….
THANKS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS YALL 💘
1K notes · View notes
wrioluvr · 5 months
Text
thinking about wriothesley giving you a handjob ♡
no pronouns for reader, reader has a cock
Tumblr media
thinking about wrio doing his best to please you. you thought he was joking when he offered to help you relieve some stress, until he took off his gloves and pulled you into his lap, whispering lowly into your ear to show him your cock.
"hmm. somebody's packing." he smirks as your cock springs to its full glory, admiring from over your shoulder. "don't say shit like that, it's embarassing!" you whine, not used to having this much attention on it. but from wrio? you were so turned on, it was throbbing, begging to be taken care of.
he starts by spreding your legs open a little, so he can rest his hands on your inner thigh, gently caressing it to get you even more aroused. his large hands, weathered from many years of running fortress of meropide, start running up and down your length. your own precum served as lubricant, heightening the sensation of every scar's roughness teasing your cock. he pays extra attention to your tip, making a circle with his index finger and thumb, and moving it in circular motions around your head like it was a fleshlight, while his other hand plays with your balls. (if you're uncut, he makes sure to pull the foreskin back just below the head, or make you grip him tightly by running a finger between your foreskin and head in circles until it's red and weeping. cruel, i know.) he knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.
"damn, wrio...where'd you learn that?" you pant out, barely able to keep your eyes open.
"oh you know...here and there."
"what the fuck does that me- hnnnnfgh." you can't help but swallow your words as he makes the special effort to run both his hands from the base all the way to the tip. he smirks, enjoying the noises you were making.
"tell me, has any another man in fontaine touched you like this yet?"
"uhmm....no...."
"i can tell you're lying."
"f-fine....lyney did....."
"you're telling me that little twink got to pleasure you before i did?" you feel his hands tighten their grip around your cock even harder, eliciting another groan from your lips. "yeah..but....but like...it wasn't anything serious...." defending your whorish behaviour is kinda hard when you're being milked to your last drop.
"no matter. i'll make you cum so hard you forget all about him, alright? ♡" placing his palm face down onto your tip, he rubs it sensually, not minding at all how his hands were practically coated with your fluid. you leaned back into him, unable to speak, only able to let out moans, and just letting him torment your cock. quickening his pace, he starts to jerk you off even more intensely, but being the tease he is, he speeds up when he notices you not moaning his name, and slows down when you start to pant louder. he places two fingers on your frenulum, rubbing the sensitive area in circles. that was the last straw. "fuck, wait- wrio! not there- aaaAAH! ♡" rutting your hips into his hands, you let out a fat load all over him, some of it spilling onto his thighs. your face is one of pure bliss, leaning your head on his shoulder and breathing heavily, taking a moment to compose yourself. wrio removes his hands from your cock, staring fondly at how your thick cum drips from his fingers.
"i'm glad you enjoyed that, but you got some on my desk, darling."
"shit....sorry."
you wonder how you should tell lyney about how you can't come fuck his ass next week...
1K notes · View notes
oopsdevil · 6 months
Text
COD + Tropes
which trope do they fall into when it comes to you.
SIMON GHOST RILEY + FWB TO LOVERS
i have said it before but simon really struggles when it comes to relationships.
he insisted that this was a casual thing but soon realized that's not true. from the way his heart beats faster when you rarely cuddle, to his trouble sleeping wondering if maybe you were with some other bloke. his insecurities got the best of him and he would end up saying something mean out of jealousy. when he saw you took offense to it he decided in four seconds that he was not gonna lose you. he confessed his feelings (in a sentence or two) and since then he has no problem with everyone knowing you are his.
KYLE GAZ GARRICK + THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
kyle was always a romantic. outspoken, proud romantic. you guys probably met in high school and just fell in love. you both knew you were it for each other but everyone kept insisting it was just a first love kind of thing. it was not.
circumstances brought kyle into the army and leaving you was the hardest of it all. you both also decided staying together was just gonna be painful so you broke up.
a couple years later kyle came home and got his life together as an adult. after seeing the reality of bills, rent, taxes and just life, he realized maybe he doesn't wanna do it at all without you. a call and a few tears is all it took for admitting you are still each others soulmates.
JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + FAKE DATING
look at me in the eyes and tell me this is not HIS trope. it was simply meant to be. maybe he saw you in a bar and some guy was being too insisting for his liking, maybe johnny got sick of his family asking about a future wedding or maybe gaz told you guys you couldn't pull it off and you took the bet. doesn't matter, but it happened.
after months of intense eye contact across the room, flushed faces when realizing you were holding hands but there was no one around and holding you by your hips for group pictures, johnny felt his stomach turn when you mentioned something about going on a date with some other soldier for real.
next thing you knew he was kissing you against a bathroom door. really kissing you, not like those pecks for the public that always left you wanting more. in breathless sentences you both decided to be together like you always wanted (probably in a quick to be continued kinda way so you could keep kissing)
KÖNIG + SLOW BURN
it took him years. years.
from the moment he saw you in base he was thankful his hood could hide his red face when he developed a crush in about 15 seconds. he was also very surprised when you just talked to him.
könig kept you as a friend for years and himself busy with missions, it wasn't until you were thinking about transferring when he decided you wouldn't do it. you can't just go, right?
the only condition to staying was a very long conversation with him, where you admitted being in love with him for the longest time, and thinking maybe he felt the same way. but after that many years you needed to have him now, or just try to move on.
i don't think könig ever felt that relived. he mumbled something in german, suddenly ripping his hood off and kinda tackled you to the bed in a hug. you laughed and decided yeah, this is gonna work.
JOHN PRICE + FORCED PROXIMITY/ SECRET RELATIONSHIP
having a new secretary in his office was the last thing john needed.
he was sure it was about the fact that it was someone new in his personal space, someone who knew nothing about his routine.
it obviously had nothing to do with the fact that he looked at you longer than he looked at papers. or about your accent being so distracting to him that you had to say most things twice.
being trapped in an elevator with him was the last thing you needed.
again, its about the fact that you have so many things to do for your impatient boss (not about his cologne being intoxicating and his shoulders looking a little too big right now)
neither of you knew how it happened, but it did. and you were sure he pressed you against every inch of the elevators walls while kissing you like a mad man.
the truth is everyone else on the team knew the reason why you drove each other crazy, and john was more than grateful when the person who opened the elevator doors and saw the state of you was simon.
after fixing your clothes and an awkward apologize to simon, you talked about it.
having a secret relationship with him didn't last long, this man likes to move fast. but after the elevator incident, you were more than okay with that.
1K notes · View notes
alwaysshallow · 7 months
Text
previous part AND next part
the idea is, you're higher ranked than ghost, and he kinda has a crush on you, which, obviously, he doesn't show. he brings you tea, runs with you, just to be around you more.
Simon is on his way to you with his tea, made specifically for you, when he hears you, speaking with someone on the phone. His senses tells him it's better to pop up other time, but he's too nosy for that. So, he stops in his tracks, listening who could you be so in conversation with.
"It's- yeah, honey. It's just a difficult mission, 'm gonna... stay a bit longer in the job. I'm so sorry."
Honey? He can't figure out if it's you speaking to your kid, or, God forbid, husband. Maybe you are bubbly and oversharing, but in the same time, he knows nothing about you, besides the fact that you prefer to work by yourself, and then lead your team. It's something that lingers on his mind; you never told team you're married, but you would if you are, yeah?
Why keep these things to himself?
It's a dumb question. Simon knows better than anyone it's better to keep everything hidden, especially if it's about something so fragile like a family. Yet, he can't keep himself from wondering, if your hand is taken by someone.
If so, he'd be lucky to have you, he thinks. You're such a lovely person, so... warm, a feeling that Simon hasn't experienced in a long, long time.
He knocks a minute after you end the conversation - minute and three seconds to be exact, he doesn't want you to suspect anything. To know he was listening, it's not professional, he's aware. He's aware of many unprofessional things, not the first time he did something like this. Thoughts in his mind are rushing; how to approach you, how to make you say something about this phone call, but he only nods in a silent greeting, leaving mug with tea on your desk.
You speak first. "Needed that, especially today. Thank you, Simon."
Simon. You're one of the people that refuses to call him Ghost. He feels giddy every time he hears that.
"'s nothing." he shrugs, looking at you with question in his eyes; why today? You're the one who's willing to tell him things, so it's not bad to pull the strings a bit, no? "Everything's alright, colonel?"
It takes you a few seconds to answer, when you warm your hands around big mug. "Mad family. Nothing new."
"Husband?" he asks, before he thinks; he feels a cool shiver down his spine. It slips, he didn't intend to ask that, to say that. In one second, it's just a thought, and in another, it's something he says out loud.
His control is crushing.
Surprisingly, you're not mad. You're more... sad, but you're smiling anyway. "Married life is complicated." you nod, and it's enough for him to just nod as well, and leave the room.
You're married.
It complicates everything.
LMAOOO PLOTTWIST HEY
1K notes · View notes
capslocked · 6 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 4
[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words
Tumblr media
“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”
-
Here’s the truth:
Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.
"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."
(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)
You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.
Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.
"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."
She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:
"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."
-
Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.
There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a  pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.
You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.
Until,
"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -
And then it hits you.
"ah."
"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.
-
A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.
Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.
There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:
The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.
The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.
(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)
A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.
But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.
"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.
The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.
"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"
"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."
"Smooth."
"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."
Hyewon nearly snorts.
"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"
"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.
Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."
Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.
"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."
You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:
"Pretty."
It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.
"I know. That's what my husband calls me."
"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"
"Different day, different you."
"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."
It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."
"Women like you."
"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.
Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.
"Isn't it," she agrees.
The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -
And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.
But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.
"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.
You blink, drawing her out.
"They know how to tie a knot."
There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.
(What a character, honestly.)
"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."
Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."
You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."
"Never said as much either."
“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”
Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”
"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."
She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.
"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."
So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.
Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.
"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"
That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.
(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)
When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.
"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."
"Mhmm."
"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."
"Like?" you continue to prod.
Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."
You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.
"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.
"I thought you'd never ask."
At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.
Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.
She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.
The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.
The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.
"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."
"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."
"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.
"Something like that."
Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.
And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.
"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."
"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.
"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.
You try to finish it for her:
"She likes it rough."
"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."
She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.
"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.
(Damn.)
Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.
It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:
"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."
She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.
"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.
It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -
She cums just like that.
Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.
"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.
"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."
Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"
"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"
You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.
You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.
And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -
"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"
And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.
(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)
"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."
"Four more floors."
-
Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.
"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"
This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.
See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.
It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.
Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.
You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.
"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.
And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -
"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."
“I don’t know that I am.”
Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.
"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."
You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.
But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:
"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"
"Say it again."
"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.
"Pushy."
"Gentle's got no appeal for us."
"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -
You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.
The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:
"Like that. Harder."
"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.
Her throat flinches: this shudder.
She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.
"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."
"Or talk?"
And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -
Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.
"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"
In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."
There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.
So you pull.
And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.
You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.
A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.
"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"
Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."
"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"
"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."
"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"
"My husband loves me."
"Then it seems-"
"He makes me cum with his hands alone."
Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.
"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."
"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"
A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight. 
You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.
You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.
"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."
There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.
(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)
With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.
Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.
You curse under your breath.
Hyewon fucking collapses.
It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.
"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"
Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.
It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"
You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.
Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.
"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"
She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.
"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"
And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:
"More-"
"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.
Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.
"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.
The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.
Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.
"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"
She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.
It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.
Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"
The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.
"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"
"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."
Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.
And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"
You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.
(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)
You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.
She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.
This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.
"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.
Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.
"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.
"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.
A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."
1K notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 27 days
Text
picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.
And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.
Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.
Then March comes.
And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.
Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.
You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.
But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.
There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.
He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.
What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.
And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.
He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!
He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.
And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.
“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”
And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.
Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.
It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…
Now he’s starting to think that he could be.
Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.
They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.
And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.
Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…
The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.
“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.
Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”
“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.
“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—
Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.
But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.
And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.
As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.
He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.
And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.
But he can hope.
He can try.
588 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 5 days
Note
Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Wrong Cunningham
Tumblr media
Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.
His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.
Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.
But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.
~~~~
Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.
"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.
"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked
"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said
"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.
"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.
"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.
If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?
"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.
Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.
"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped
Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.
"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.
~
Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.
Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.
~~~
Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N"
"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.
"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.
"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."
Y/N felt her excitement building again.
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.
"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.
"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.
~
Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.
"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.
"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.
~
Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.
Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.
When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.
"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?
"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."
"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.
"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.
"What did I do?"
"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.
"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.
~
Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.
"Eddie?"
"Can we talk?"
Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.
"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked
"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.
"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.
"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.
"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.
"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.
"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."
"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.
"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."
Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.
"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.
"Right now?" Eddie choked out
She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.
"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.
"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed
"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself
"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.
Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.
Tumblr media
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt
451 notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 5 months
Note
Omg hi are your requests still open??? No pressure!
Unfortunately I am here as a Mahito simp and your twoshot of him has me in a chokehold. I’ve re-read that an ungodly amount of times now. That said, I can’t get the thought out of my head of Mahito noncon-ing a reader he likes who can’t see him, who is eventually able to see him in the midst of the act. Aaaaaa
sfjklsdkljsdkfjsdklfjsdlksj oh my god bestie you absolute genius hold on- alsosorrythistooksolong
(Dark!Mahito x reader)
Bed Bugs
(Yandere, dark content, implied somno, noncon, dubcon, choking-but veryvery brief)
Tumblr media
You've been waking up sore lately.
Maybe you aren't sleeping, right? Maybe it's your bed. It might not be expensive, but you bought it solely for comfort.
The pain comes from your thighs. Aching. Numb. And if you looked closely, you swore you could see bites-
Bed bugs. That had to be it.
"I hate those fuckers," your friend groans, "I got a couple bites when I was staying in that cheap motel back in California? Lasted for a week."
"I was looking at exterminators. Everything's so expensive these days," you mutter, swirling your latte, "I don't even know how I got them. Ridiculous."
She hums. The cafe was quiet during this time, not too many customers. The two of you were tucked away in a booth, still nursing the expensive coffee. You'd already heard her rant about the inflation.
"Y'know, my friend's older brother has some kinda' homerun pest control gig. I can ask him about it. Maybe he can give you a discount? I'm pretty sure he specializes in termites but I don't think there's a real difference."
You eye her. "Yeah, no. Termites aren't in any way close to bed bugs. Besides, don't they use acid for termites? I'd still like to sleep on a bed that doesn't give me skin problems."
"See? I'm giving you solutions, and you keep rejecting them," your friend sighs, "I give up. I think you just got roommates now."
You laugh, about to respond, when you feel something dangerously close to your inner thigh. You glance down. Nothing.
"Uh, speaking of roommates, what did you say was happening with yours?" You change the subject, shifting in the booth.
"Oh yeah! Her and Dan are getting pretty serious, I think she's gonna move out soon."
"Oh really?" The touch came back. Harder. More insistent. You gasp when something grabs you by the hips, squeezing.
Your friend gives you a look. "You okay?"
You look around again. Nothing. Again.
"Um, yes! I am." You managed to respond, "Sorry, sorry, just....long day."
You clear your throat, plastering on a smile as you listen to her prattle about the drama in her life. Her voice distracts you from your thoughts swirling in your mind. Each getting more ridiculous than the last. 
You swore it felt like a...hand.
Work kicked your ass today. 
You'd never been so tired, practically falling asleep on the train. Crowded as always. You scrunched your nose as yet another person conveniently forgot to wear deodorant that day. Wonderful. 
At least, the day was over. You could resign to being as unproductive as possible for the rest of your night. 
You scroll through the forum. Almost everyone said that bed bugs- Cimex lectularius because now you've researched them so much you know their scientific name- are a losing battle. The final verdict is to get rid of your mattress immediately. Either that, or you'd need to call a specialized exterminator that cost at least twice the price of your current mattress. You didn't know which was the worst deal. 
You ignore the first few touches. Trains. Crowded area. People who don't understand boundaries. It's the swipe on your ass that makes you turn around and glare at the likely culprit. A sleazy-looking man in his late-forties. He barely even reacts, just arching a brow at your look. 
Typical. You inch away from him, squeezing past the other bodies until you're well past the other side. You lean against the window, blocking yourself from any other unwanted touches. Finally. Some peace. 
Until it started back up again. 
Something solid presses against you. Like-like a wall. Insistent, begging to be noticed. You're forced back, squished against the already small space. It wasn't your imagination. You can't delude yourself. It was real. A real hand was pressing against your pants, right above your clothed pussy. 
But there was no one there. 
What the fuck. 
The rhythm is rough, forceful as the hand starts grinding on your clit, sending tingles up your spine. You let out a confused whine, slapping a hand over your mouth as you squirm fruitlessly against whatever the fuck this thing was. You can't stop it. It's too much. Too sudden. You want it to stop but it takes you higher and higher and higher and-
It's gone just when the train rolls to a stop. All at once, the opposing wall disappears. You stumble out of the doors, legs shaking, panting. 
There's a whisper of a laugh right by your ear. You realize you're very wet.
What. The. Fuck. 
You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was a hallucination. That you were so tired from work you had an orgasm untouched. It sounded ridiculous, but it was plausible, right? Stranger things have happened. 
But, it just kept happening. 
The touches range. Sometimes, it's just a brush against your shoulder. A poke on your cheek. Other times it's more insistent. You can still remember the sharp spank on your ass in your very much-alone apartment. 
You were starting to think you might not be so alone, anymore. 
The worst was when you were out in public. It always happened in public. You'd be at work, typing on your computer when you'd feel a sensation on your pussy, grinding on you until you're close to cumming. When you'd break away to hide away in the bathroom, you'd always find your panties soaked.
Sometimes, you find yourself typing something ridiculous on your computer. Are ghosts real? Can apparitions touch the living? 
In one of these rabbit holes, you stumble across the word Spectrophillia. Forums of tons and tons of people sharing their own experiences that are eerily similar to yours. A woman describes her encounter with her own aspiration, saying that the thing had physical teeth, a physical tongue, a physical- 
You stop reading after that. A horny ghost. Is that seriously what you were dealing with? You weren't raised religiously, so the idea wasn't very appealing. 
Luckily, your doctor was a woman of science. 
"The symptoms you're describing are a very common indication of stress." She types away on her computer. 
You eye her, both in relief and incredulous. "Really?" 
"Of course," she says, "Trust me, people have come up with crazier stories. Now." She turns back to you, clicking her pen before writing a couple things down on her clipboard.
"I'll prescribe you diazepam. Take one two hours after you've eaten before night." She instructs. "Come back if you feel anything out of the norm." 
You nod, still a bit dazed by her answer. Stress, that's seriously all that this was? 
But it worked, oddly enough. The first night back from the clinic, you stopped feeling those pseudo touches. Your insomnia started going away. You started getting a proper sleep cycle. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to work in your favor.
And then you wake up to the sounds of your bed moving. 
Creaking. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 
Also, you feel...good. Really really good. Tingles shoot up your spine. A pleased sigh unconsciously escapes from your lips as the pleasure between your thighs grows. You're still incoherent, hips following the feeling. Hands are wrapped around your wrists, pressing them against the mattress. There's a puff of air against your ear. Tongue and teeth that nip against your throat. 
It feels like a wet dream, you think. Blearily, you open your eyes, fully prepared to see some Hollywood actor, your crush from work, a cute stranger. 
You see nothing but the ceiling. But the pressure only increases. 
Immediately, all sleep is gone. You wiggle and squirm under the sudden weight. Weight that shouldn't be possible, considering there's nothing there. Your scream is blocked by a hand clamping itself over your windpipe, squeezing. 
The panic is immediate. You're writhing, doing whatever you can to get air into your lungs. It's not working. You can't move your hands. You can't move your legs. You're dying you're dying you're-
"Can you see me now?" 
You can see him. 
You were expecting something a bit less inhuman. Apart from the stitches that litter his face, he looks familiar, in terms of shape that is. Two human eyes. A human head. Human lips that are curved into a grin. Human skin. 
He looks so normal. And that makes whatever is happening even more scary. 
He releases your throat, and you're sucking in mouthfuls of air, regulating your breathing. He hums in clear delight, leaning away so he straddles you. He tuts when you start crying, sobs wracking your shivering body. 
"Is that all you can do?" He clicks his tongue like he's disappointed in you. 
"Get off," you wheeze, wiggling away, "Get-get off." 
"Why? You were enjoying it a couple of minutes ago." It? You glance down at the mess of bedsheets, where he's still inside you, lazily grinding his cock back into your wet hole. 
Nothing about this makes sense. What was he doing-How can he be-How is he even real when you couldn't see him before? You can't think; your mind is still drowsy on fatigue and the medication. Fuck the medication? Is that why you can barely even struggle?
"What a-are you?" You manage to slur out, words slipping around your tongue like butter. 
He laughs like you just said the world's funniest joke. It only makes your stomach drop. You've never heard a sound so evil before. 
"That's kinda' rude. Your parents never taught you manners?" He drawls, "Mahito, that's my name! I know yours!" You hate the way he says your name with so much perversion. He's ruining the innocence, just like how he's ruining you. 
You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but at that exact moment, his cock slams back inside you. You give out a stuttered moan instead. 
"See? Told you: you like it." Mahito gloats and your mind swirls in and out of focus again. You're barely coherent, moaning and huffing underneath him. You feel disgusted at yourself. For being so okay with this. But-but you can't move. You can barely breathe. 
And, you note with reluctance, he's been doing this for a while. You're practically mid-way through your build-up, so close to an orgasm that you don't want. Given by a fucking monster. 
"Have you-have you been-" 
"Yeah, it's been me, for a while now," he answers without much cadence, "You were so close with the ghost theory. It was kinda cute watching you get so desperate. Finding whatever you could to check out of reality."
Oh. You get it. This was all a game for him. How long has he been doing this to you? Making you stumble around, drowning in your own paranoia. How long has this thing been watching you? Touching you. Fucking you.
"You, on the other hand, are on a whole other level with your delusion." He grins, showing teeth. "Fuck, seriously, did you think you were hallucinating me fingering you? At that point, I have to admire your creativity." 
You can barely focus on his words, not when his cock was digging you out. You were so close, practically on the precipice. He gives one more snap of his hips, and you're gone, pussy clenching around his dick, back arching.
The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours because he refuses to stop moving. He finally grants you mercy by spilling his cum deep inside you, forcing you to milk his cock as he lazily rolls his hips, forcing your oversensitive body to jolt. 
You catch your breath when the world stops spinning. When it grows quiet, you can only hear your own panting. Another wave of tears threatens to spill. 
"Aw, cheer up," Mahito purrs, "At least it wasn't bed bugs, right?" 
1K notes · View notes