#i can't use any descriptive words other than attractive. hes just very attractive. to me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lemonyko0 · 2 years

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Mr. Jeon: Jealousy

“You’ve trained her well.” He says impressed. “Bet she’d do anything you told her.” I nod, looking up at Jungkook. I place my hand on his thigh, “Anything."

» genre: angst! smut, fluff at the absolute very end (unless simping counts in which case, plenty)

» word count: 5.7k

» description: teacher x student, voyeurism, almost cuckold but not really ... just read i can't think of a term for this. two members ;)

Part 3 | Masterpost

jungkook’s pov

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. If only I had any ounce of self control I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. if only i was as smart as i thought myself to be.

My eyes scan over her name in my phone.

How can someone be so trusting?

It’s not even that she doesn't know, she seems not to care at all. Each conversation with her is a testament to that. I’ve spent the entire weekend texting her. Never initiating anything myself, I really ought to remind her of my no spam rule, but i think it to be cute, and necessary, that she's this obsessed.

jk: what if i am just using you?

y/n: i just like having your attention. you can do whatever as long as you don't leave me.

jk: and if i left you?

This leaves her typing for quite some time. I can see she's deleting what she's typing and trying over and over again before she finally sends her response.

y/n: don't warn me. just go and never come back.

y/n: i hate being teased like that.

The conversation flatlines soon after, leaving her on read and not being bothered to continue the conversation. She’s got class early anyway, I'm doing her a favor by at least leaving her be for the night.

My shoes click against the tile floors as I head into the school, pushing past the wooden doors to be met with silent halls.

In silence like this you can't help but wander. ask yourself questions like how you ended up here. I never considered myself to be a very deep individual. In fact, I always believed humans were never as fathomless as they believed themselves to be.

It was simple. I became a teacher because my mother was one, and I loved my mother. I saw the joy it gave her, and I chased after her and her life by following in her footsteps while my elder brother followed in my fathers. my parents had favorites, as all do. you're always inclined to love the things that love you back.

I've never asked myself the question if I was ever, genuinely happy in my decision to teach. and now i feel as if it's an unfair question entirely. What qualifies a person to be happy? I lost my mother after my second year teaching at my university job. I always associated her with teaching. Could I ever truly love something, after losing the very reason I started it?

Once my mother was gone I coped much better than anyone thought I would. i'm not sure what they expected, but the sympathetic stares and dinner invitations went stale very quickly, and I left my job and hometown as soon as I found another, even higher paying, job at a different school.

No one here knows anything about my past. They only know what I tell them, and I’ve enjoyed my time here. The people are kind, they don't pry, they invite each other to drinks, dinners, discuss their marriages, families, the economy, and so on.

One man has always stood out to me. He's young for a teacher, like myself. He must be incredibly smart as everyone praises him and holds him in high regards. The staff refer to him almost constantly when struggling with concepts, the subject never mattered.

He was tall, dark hair, wore glasses, dressed average, never attracted attention to himself, and yet he always had it. He looked at me as if he saw through me. I hated it. And it felt like he knew that, too.

I began to see him more and more as the months went on, until it became almost guaranteed that I'd see him when passing through the foreign language wing.

And today was no exception to that.

“Ah, you again.” He grins widely at the sight of me, coffee in one hand and his leather folder in the other, settled underneath his arm.

I force a grin, “It’s me, again.” I stop in front of him in the hall, “Good morning, namjoon.”

He bows his head slightly, looking at me through the top of his black rimmed glasses with a smirk, “good morning to you too jungkook.”

I clear my throat and sigh, “I suppose we have some things to discuss.”

He lingers purposefully, making me uncomfortable with his silence, and I hate to admit it works. “We do.” He extends an arm into the dark room behind me, “If you don't mind.” I turn on my heels and head into the room, watching him set his things down at his desk before opening the blinds to allow a small amount of light to creep into the room, “I'm quite prone to headaches, I don't so much enjoy unnatural light. i find it too harsh.”

I mentally roll my eyes at his behavior, but keep my composure, simply exhaling as I stare at him, “can we stop with the theatrics and you just tell me what you have in mind?”

He ignores me and continues to stare out the window and play with the blinds, before meandering back towards his desk and sitting down with a laugh, “Pretty bold statement considering you're at my mercy. Your entire reputation as an educator on the line. A little harsh, don't you think?”

I shrug, “I'd simply like to handle this already. I figured if your intention was to ruin me, you'd've made a case already.”

He spins slowly side to side in his seat, twirling a pen around his hand, “Who’s to say I don't have one tucked away in my desk?” he chuckles, “I wouldn't put anything past me.”

“Do you?” I ask.

He hums, “I might.” a smile tugs at his lips and he leans forward on his desk, “Have a seat, please.” he watches me intently as I reluctantly sit in the chair on the other side of his desk. He curls his bottom lip and his brows furrow before opening his mouth, “I can't comprehend why a man like you would entertain a relationship with a student.”

He's practically laughing at me, I suppose he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does, “I’m not in a relationship with her.”

He peaks at my response, “You’re not? What would you say your relationship with her would be labeled as?”

I hold my tongue, racking my brain for any mild way to put this, and fail to find one, “Well you clearly know what we did last week, call that what you may.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, strange how I found out though don't you think? All you'd have to do was close the door. I would have walked right past your room, but you didn't.”

I shrug, “I didn't think things would escalate to that.” Lying straight through my teeth.

He nods, “Well you're lucky I’ve always considered us very similar individuals.”

“What do you mean?”

He smirks, “You think you're doing something original? There’s always one, jungkook.” I sigh, not entertained, I didn't come to be reprimanded for my actions like a child. “You’re playing it wrong, all too dangerously.”

I finally let out the sarcastic laugh I’ve been holding in, “please tell me how to ‘play the game’ correctly.”

“Well for starters, I'd like to say it's normal for a man to feel this way, despite any age gaps. So long as she's over the age of consent of course.”

I wince at the thought, “of course she is.”

“Yes of course, and we as educators see hundreds of people a day, thousands a year, and hardly any of them outside of our wall of profession, be it students or teachers. So the likely chance that someone catches your eye and isn't one of those, is slim. The sad reality is so, the more married to your work, the closer you marry your work.” He chuckles at his own joke. “So all i ask from you is three things.”

I sat up in my seat, “please go on, i haven't got all day.”

He nods, “I can't sit here and tell a grown man what to do, but you cannot be so careless. If you're intent on keeping her around, don't interact with each other while you're at work. It’d be one thing if she was simply a student here and not yours, you could just argue you met in other circumstances. But luckily the semester ends soon, until then you can’t waver the professional line.”

“She already knows this.”

“Good, secondly, on the chance you do get caught, I’ve never known anything about this.”

I laugh, “I figured.”

“I've taken it upon myself to look into your personal life, and I'm not fond of blackmail, but consequences to meet these requirements will result in unfavorable things for you.”

“Mhm, wouldn’t want to jeopardize your spotless record.”

He smiles, “Glad we understand each other, and lastly, I want to talk to her.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You want to talk to her?”I shake my head in disbelief, the hoops he’s making me jump through, “Just the two of you? I’m not sure she’ll agree to that.”

He shrugs and heads towards the door, “I don’t care if you’re there or not, it won’t change anything that I do, whether you’re watching or not.” He gives me a shit-eating grin, acting like this purposefully to get under my skin. I’m not a fool, I know what he’s planning to do.

I go throughout the rest of the day lost in my own thoughts, and when the final bell tolls I slouch back in my seat. “Y/N, can I see you for a second?”

I call out to her as she passes my desk and heads for the door. She looks surprised and turns around, “Yes Mr. Jeon?”

I lean forward on my desk, resting my forearms on it as I look around, waiting for the classroom to clear out before glancing back up at her, “Do you have plans tonight?”

She ticks her head to the side, “No, I don’t.”

I nod and sigh, “Okay good, I have someone that wants to meet you.”

“Who?” She asks, puzzled.

I sigh, unsure how much information I can actually trust her with. If I tell her what I’ve gotten myself into she’ll have no reason to go. It’s solely beneficial to me, and if she isn’t interested in seeing another man then that puts me in the worst possible position.

I grin and look up at her, “It’s a surprise. Wear something cute.”

She nods slowly and takes a step away before stopping, “W-where are we going?”

“I’ll pick you up at the bus stop near your house at 10.”

With the details all sorted to her liking she skips off happily to her last class of the day.

I take one last breath before she opens the car door, sitting down and looking at me with a large grin, “Hi.”

I smile back at her, trying not to show my nervousness, “Hi baby.”

She sits back in her seat and blushes as she clicks her seatbelt on, “Are we going to your house?”

I shake my head, “Our guest decided on the location, it's about a half hour away.”

She hums, “That’s kind of far.”

I nod and begin driving, “I know, do your parents know you’re gone?”

She glances at my side profile then looks out the window, “I don’t know.”

I chuckle, “You don’t know? You still live with them don’t you?” She nods silently, and I rack my brain for any thought or memory of ever having seen or met her parents but to no avail. “Are they away a lot?” She shakes her head, clearly not a fan of talking about this but now I'm interested. “Do they not pay much attention to you?”

She chuckles so quietly I almost miss it over the humming of the engine. “You could say that.”

She stays silent the rest of the ride. I had predicted a relatively interrogative ride to the hotel but our conversation at the beginning had put her in some kind of mood.

A few blocks away and already into the city I try to lighten her mood.

I place my hand on her thigh and she falls out of her trance to stare at me for a moment, but quickly falls back into it.

I mentally sigh, wishing it would have been that easy, “Baby.” I call out to her, she looks to me and responds quietly, “You look very pretty. I think our guest will agree.”

She grins and takes the hand I placed into hers and plays with my fingers, “You think?

I grin, eyes on the road, “I think he’d be an idiot not to.”

“So it's a he?”

I hum, “What do you think about that?”

Her lips tug, “Nervous.”

“Nervous? Why are you nervous?” I tick my head.

“Because you're nervous.”

I glance at her then immediately back to the road, “Don't worry about me. We’ll see when we get there.” I pull into the parking of the familiar hotel. I ought to have predicted he'd choose something more opulent like this. He’s always given me “daddy’s money” vibes. Not that his salary couldn't support this as well.

“Woah is this where we’re going?”

I park the car and nod, “Yes, follow me.”

We walk past the automatic doors in the front, revealing a gold and white interior to the building's monotone exterior. I had gotten a text a few hours earlier of a room number, the lady at the desk only looking up from her book for a moment before turning around in her seat.

The elevator ride was also silent, but I can feel her body heat she’s so close to me.

“Come here.” I extend my arm to her and she latches onto it as the elevator dings and I search for the room.

As soon as I find it I knock on the door. I feel her grip on me tighten and the door opens in front of us to reveal the same man I had talked to earlier that day.

Your POV

“Ah, hello y/n.” a man grins at me, ignoring jungkook and extending his hand outwards towards me. “I'm Namjoon, or Mr.Kim.”

I looked from him to Jungkook, and he nods to me so I let my hand become engulfed in his. I don't step away from Jungkook for a second as we enter the hotel room. I have a weird gut feeling but I also have faith that Jungkook would never put me in danger. I’d do anything for him, and if this is a test I know I’ll pass.

Namjoon walks to a table by the window where a glass jar of liquor sits and some shot glasses, “Jungkook?” he offers.

He laughs, sitting us both on a large bed in the center of the room, “You first.”

He smiles at him, “You’re sharper than I thought.” He downs a shot, refills it then hands it to Jungkook as he pours another.

Namjoon then stands with the glass in his hand and meanders towards me, sitting beside me and leaning rather close, to a point where I could smell the cologne. I don't know what scent that is, but it smells like he’s got money.

“Would you like to try it, dear?”

I stare at him and Jungkook speaks up from behind me, “Only do it if you want to, baby.”

Namjoon glances at him with hooded eyes then back to me with a small grin, “Of course, you should never do anything you don't want to.”

I gulp and let go of Jungkook’s arm, taking the small glass with two hands before drinking it.

My face immediately winces like I had eaten an entire lemon and I stick my tongue out. “bleh.”

They both chuckle at my reaction, “First time?” someone asks and I nod, never having drank before.

It settles on my tongue and I find the aftertaste quite nice. “That's not that bad actually.” I say but a displeased expression is still present on my face.

“Here.” Namjoon hands me a water. “Drink this after, as a chaser.”

I untwist the bottle and take a sip, “Is that what you call what you drink after alcohol?”

He grins, “Yes it is, you are a quick learner aren’t you.” I smile up at him and he leans closer, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear and staring at my lips.

This reeks of trouble, but I know Jungkook is beside me. Surely we wouldn't be here if he wasn't in on whatever is happening, right?

Worried nonetheless I pull back and turn to look at him, who’s already staring at me with an unamused face. “W-what's going on?” I ask him.

“Don't be so dense, baby. I think Namjoon is interested in teaching you as well.”

My eyes widen and I grab onto him, “But y-you’re okay with this? Do you want me to do this?”

He grins, “Why would I bring you here if I wasn't? Do what you want baby.”

“I want you.” I insist. I don’t so much care for the other guy. Unless I’m explicitly told to entertain him, I’m not interested, and frankly a little embarrassed.

He stares at me speechlessly, then looks towards Namjoon. “You’ve trained her well.” He says impressed. “Bet she’d do anything you told her.”

I nod, looking up at Jungkook. I place my hand on his thigh, “Anything!”

He bites his lip before speaking to me again, “Even if I told you to let him have you?”

I frown at him, more confused than anything, he told me only a few days ago I was not to have boyfriends or let anyone else touch me, and now he's asking me to do exactly that? “W-why-”

“No why. It's a yes or no question, y/n. Would you?”

I nod determined, “Yes, i-if that's what you want.”

“It is. Now stop staring at me.” He rises from the bed and walks over to the liquor, pouring himself a shot and taking it before sitting in a seat in the corner of the room.

Namjoon crawls in front of me, “Just like he said gorgeous, look at me.” I do as told, committing to the idea that this is what he wants and I want it too.

“W-what are we going to do?” I ask him, still feeling my knowledge on the topic of intimacy is still growing.

He smiles, leaning in so close his nose almost touches mine, “Whatever you'll let me.” He closes the gap and presses his lips onto mine, leaning me downwards until my head hits the pillows. He licks at my lips and a hand comes up to my jaw, massaging it and I knowingly let my mouth fall open and he kisses me with tongue.

I can't remember doing this before, and he grins as if it's obvious, “So cute.”

My cheeks heat all the same, and he kisses me more feverently, his large hands sliding everywhere on my body until one slides into the top of my dress and over my boob, lightly pinching my nipple and causing my back to arch into him.

"Baby likes that huh?” I look at him, my lip gloss reflecting on his lips as well and I hum.“Where else do you like being touched, kitten?”

The nickname confuses me but I answer him the same I’d answer Jungkook. I grab his other hand as he continues to flick at my nub with the other, and lead it down to my very lower stomach, “h-here feels good too.”

He sucks at the skin on my neck rather harshly than Jungkook does and I wince. “This part?” He asks, his hand applying pressure where I put him but that wasn't right.

I shake my head, “no.”

He smiles and bites at my ear, “Then, where?”

I whimper and push his hand further down to my naughty bits, “h-here.”

He hums and adjusts his hand directly over my good spot, pressing his fingers up and down my underwear, “Right here, you said?”

I moan and my body squirms, “y-yeah there.”

He persists, focusing on my chest and his other hand moving up and down until he pauses, removing both hands and pulling my dress up to my waist, completely revealing my lower half.

“Lift your hips baby.” He grabs onto my underwear and takes them off. He then turns to Jungkook, amusedly sat twirling liquid around in a glass, and hands him the garment, “here, it's yours, really.”

He looks up at him sharply, and ignores his gesture. Namjoon chuckles, “Your loss.” He then turns back to me, both hands on either of my knees as he widens my legs, “Wonder why he’s so upset?” He dips his head down between my thighs and my brows furrow, until I feel what must be his tongue. Licking multiple stripes before a finger flicks at the super sensitive part of me in a pattern.The feeling both new and overwhelming has me gasping and the bedsheets crumpling beneath my hands. “Oh f-fuck!”

“What is it baby?” He laughs, quickly resuming.

“F-feels really good.”

He leans his head against my thigh, “Has Jungkook never done this for you?”

I shake my head, glancing at him whose eyes haven't left us, “N-no.”

He grins, “Well that's okay, not every man can do this. Only the good ones.”

I whimper as he continues to touch me, “h-he’s really good.”

“Is he?” I nod, choking on my words. He smirks, “Ask him to try then. You can tell us who's better.”

I look over at Jungkook who’s now sitting on the edge of his seat. “Jungkookie?” I call out to him, “C-can you? Please?”

He twitches in his seat, “You don't seem to need my help baby. She's easy, she’ll come just like this if you let her.”

Namjoon laps at my area rather viciously and I moan out as he pulls back and chuckles, “Yeah, I can tell. Such a sensitive girl.” He coos, pushing a finger in lightly at my entrance and I try to push back the noises in my throat but I fail miserably. “Oh you like that, don't you?” He pushes a finger in all the way and begins to pump it in and out of me, lightly curling his finger.

I shake my head vigorously, “y-yeah, Jungkook taught me.”

He adds a finger and moves faster, “Did he? Did you come on his fingers?”

I nod again, “Y-yes, fuck.” My back arches and it's as if he predicted it, I feel the familiar tightening and burning sensation in my lower stomach, like I’m gonna pee.

He pulls his hand away completely and laughs at me, “Can't have you finishing that easily, can we? It’ll ruin the fun.”

I pout. “I-i was close, please-”

“Why would I let you finish when you’ve barely touched me? Doesn't seem fair does it y/n?”

I shake my head, “No. That's not fair.”

He grins, sliding his bottoms off and completely exposing himself to me. “So baby, what can you do?”

I stare at his dick, very different from Jungkook’s. I guess it never occurred to me they wouldn't all be the same. He's definitely longer but not larger, if that makes sense. “I-i can use my mouth, or my…”

I gesture at the area he left unfinished and he grins, “Do you know that word?”

I shake my head, “Only the medical term, i guess.”

He grins, “Your pussy?”

I wince, not liking that word, and he laughs, “don't like that word?” I shake my head. “Well, you can decide if you'd rather use that or your mouth.”

I'm unsure of the right choice here. Jungkook always tells me what he wants. “What do you want?” I ask him, scooting closer.

He smiles and grips the bottom of my dress, “arms up.” He slides the fabric off of me easily, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He ogled my chest before answering, “Why don't you ride me?”

“Ride, you?”

He nods, leaning against the bed frame and stroking his member with his own hand, “Haven't done that either?” He laughs, “Must be a pretty shit teacher to skip all the fun parts.”

I ignore his comment to Jungkook and simply ask, “H-how do I do that?”

“Come here, like you're going to sit in my lap but don't sit yet.”

I do as told, uncomfortably hovering above his hand that's holding his dick, “okay, now-”

“Now replace my hand.” I do as best I can. “Now sit on it, put it inside you baby.”

I look him in the eyes and he nods, encouraging me to do it. I cautiously sink onto his length, only getting what seems to be a third of the way until it begins to burn a little, then halfway I had to stop. “Ow, fuck.”

He massages my back and hums, “It's alright baby, take your time, you're doing well.”

I slowly sink more and more, my legs growing quickly tired until I collapse down and shove himself in the rest of the way and I cry out.

He moans in my ear and grabs at my ass. “God baby, so fucking tight aren't you?”

“Hurts.” I pout.

He chuckles, “A lot of girls would kill to sleep with a guy like me, you’ll learn to like it. Pain feels good doesn't it baby?”

I take some breaths and it starts to feel much better, I nod my head and he chuckles, “Lean into me, let me help.”

I do as told and he begins to push in and out of me, thrusting harshly but keeping most of himself inside of me. I can feel myself growing hotter, feeling how deep inside of me he reaches and rubs against my walls.

I whimper and bite at his neck as a distraction but this seems to encourage him, thrusting harder and faster and I yelp.

He groans and halts suddenly, flipping us around to where I’m on my back and he’s between my legs, “Fuck if this is how you feel now I can't imagine how you felt your first time.”

I don't know what he means but he doesn't give me any time to ponder his words as he fucks into me aggressively.

I mumble incoherent things as he groans beside my ear, “Gripping onto me so tight, so fucking wet too, just like a whore, got another man watching me fuck you and everything.” He whispers and chuckles, “Tell me, is he watching you get fucked?”

I force my eyes open for a moment and glance at where Jungkook is, staring off at the ground. “N-no.” I mewl.

He growls, “Can’t stand to see it can he? His baby with another guys dick in her?” He laughs, “I know I’d be pissed.”

He continues to thrust into me, one arm balancing himself and the other reaches down to my sensitive area. He begins to rub and flick at it and my back arches as I moan loud.

He cusses in response to my walls tightening erratically, before he moans loudly and stills inside of me. “Fuck.”

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out, and aiming his member towards me as he paints my face and stomach white.

It surprises me and I close my eyes until I feel him lay next to me.

I slowly open them back up and glance around, Jungkook looks away as soon as my eyes meet his, and Namjoon rests beside me with his eyes closed and an arm across his forehead.

He's the first to speak, “Don't you know what to do?”

I shake my head and he chuckles, “Well I’d tell you but I’m not your teacher.” He stands and begins redressing himself. He walks to the bathroom for a moment and fixes his hair before digging into his pockets for a card. “I have the room until 11am tomorrow, do with it what you will.” He grins and tosses it at Jungkook before walking out of the room.

The entire thing happens too fast for me to catch up and it leaves me puzzled.

I look at Jungkook who’s still avoiding eye contact. “Jungkook?” He hums. “What do I do?”

He sighs, “Either grab a wet towel or take a shower.”

I nod and slide off the bed and head into the bathroom. I look around, only a hand towel was out so I grab that, wet it and begin to wipe the white substance off of me.

Once I think I have it all I head back out and stand in front of Jungkook, covering myself best I could, “d-did I get it all?”

His eyes slide over me darkly, looking me up and down before settling on my face, “missed a spot, on your cheek.”

I turn around and wipe at my cheek, “did i get it?”

He nods, and I continue to stand there. “What are you waiting for? Get dressed.”

I frown, “b-but, I’m not finished.”

He looks at me confused, “Not finished?”

I shake my head, “n-need you to touch me.”

He exhales and chuckles, “You didn't get to finish did you baby?”

I pout, “No, didn't let me.”

“Aw.” He coos, getting up from his seat. “Talked all that shit and he left you unfinished? Not much of a man after all, I guess.”

I agree and let him back me up to the bed. “w-will you, please?”

He grins down at me, “I can't say no to your begging, y/n.”

I smile and pull the back of his neck in for a kiss, which he only lets me have for a moment, “Face the bed.” I frown, wanting to kiss him more but I do as I’m told, “Get on it, stay on your knees and put your elbows on the bed.”

The position is weird to me but exposes me perfectly to him. What I can't see is the large grin across his face.

“So pretty baby, do you know how pretty you are?”

I hum contently and feel his slick tongue against my folds. “Still wet too, but not as wet as I get you.”

I shake my head, “You’re much better. He was too mean, too hard.”

He coos, circling a finger against my hole, “At least now you know what other men are like. He’s the epitome of every guy your age.”

“What do you me-” I’m cut off by two of his fingers sliding in at a delicious angle, and pulling them back out slowly, scissoring them before dipping them back in. “God Jungkook.”

He smiles as he watches me, “No one can worship you like me baby. They can't make you feel this good.”

I nod, “F-feel so good.”

He hums, picking up the pace, “I’m sure it does baby.”

It doesn't take but a minute more of his work until the feeling comes back, and he notices the way I tighten around his fingers so he adds a third and his tongue.

“Fuck Jungkook.” I whimper. “T-too much too much.”

“You can take it baby, let it go.”

Only a few seconds more of his relentless actions and I’m cumming against him, hard.

My body easily falls limp and I curl myself up in the sheets, feeling exhausted and worn out.

Jungkook disappears into the bathroom for a few moments, then he reappears beside me, towel in hand as he uncovers my lower half and wipes at my area. I whine and try to move him away, “let me y/n.” I snuggle into his leg and relent, allowing him to touch me until he stops, “I have your clothes, do you want to put them back on?”

I shake my head, not wanting to move another muscle until I at least get a good nap in.

Jungkook begins to stand again but I tug on his arm, “Stay with me, please.”

He sighs, “Let me take you home baby.”

“Why? So I can be alone again?” I snap at him, feeling emotional and tired. “I'm so fucking tired of being left.” I whisper, muffled against the pillows.

He pauses for a moment before walking away. I sigh, letting my body go limp against the bed. I shouldn't have put that onto him, or let myself think he has any reason to stay.

The lights shut off and he shuffles back into the bed beside me, not settling until he hands me something, “put this on please, you’ll get cold like that.”

It registers in my tired brain that he's handing me his shirt, and I look over at him, shirtless and barely in view due to the dark room. The only light from the barely covered window’s city lights, and I feel as if I’m about to burst into tears.

“a-are we staying here?”

He nods, also seeming rather tired, “Yes baby, all night.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek and I turn my back to him, wiping it away before sliding the shirt on.

I let myself fall back onto the bed, he pulls me close, his chest pressed against my back and he inhales my strawberry shampoo. “Thank you.”

I hum, “why are you thanking me? I really should be thanking you, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “You don't deserve anything happening to you. Including me.

I chuckle, “I know.”

He exhales, “I don't mean it like that, baby. I mean you're better than all of this.”

I let a silence settle around us. My brain runs circles around the question I know I shouldn't ask. “I want to say something but I’m afraid it'll scare you.”

He pulls me closer, “You couldn't scare me if you tried.”

I smile, “Do you think we could've had a real shot, if we had met under different circumstances?”

He pauses, “I do.” He kisses my shoulder and mumbled something about how I should go to sleep, but I was already halfway there, and soon after I am comfortably curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest above the city lights. and for once I feel wanted.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hi babes. Phew. I didn't think I'd have to specify this as it's clearly listed just about everywhere but my account is no exception to the rule that if you're interacting with my nsfw posts and you are a minor you will be immediately removed. Now it is impossible for me to monitor this perfectly, but please for my sake and yours, please be considerate of my boundaries and rules. If you continue, you run the risk of being blocked from any of my content. Please don't make me do that!

Also: If you're going to request a taglist, FILL OUT THE FORM IN MY MASTERLIST. my notifs are off, i don't check comments consistently, it's the easiest way. however, i'm missing half the people that requested because i couldn't find the username submitted, so you either didn't submit your actual user or i got it wrong bc you commented. if you think this is you, dm me or resubmit!

Sigh. Debating to give this story more depth or just leave it as smut. Anyway hope u enjoyed, check out my other stuff, yada yada masterlist yeah. Thank you for reading and have a peaceful day! - ara <3

masterlist | taglist

tag list: @marvelahsobx @jeonpendejo @carzjeon @jayunu @coldfoxkid @whipwhoops @marcoswhore @isab3lita @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @heronstairsxd

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sexyzuka · 8 months

Text

A Fateful Encounter

Part Three - Dinner for Two

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Content: 18+, fem!reader, werewolf!reader, animal death, graphic violence, blood, angst, mental health, self-harm ideation, pet names

Summary: Your flimsy façade of humanity crumbled the second Kiba saw you transform. There's a tacit understanding between you two, but it's a transitory, conditional truce held together by fraying threads of intrigue. Kiba agreed to keep your secret, but in return you have to keep your promise and go on a date with him. Since sneaking into Konoha again isn’t a viable option, you decide to surprise Kiba by offering to hunt down the tastiest dinner he’s ever had, and what's more luxurious than fresh venison? Tensions flare as you divulge details about your past that ignite Kiba’s ferocious jealous streak. Will you be able to keep your cool while also protecting your pack from the inevitable destructiveness that shadows humankind like a pernicious plague?

Writers Notes: Hey everyone! I took a small break from writing due to being at New York Comic Con this past weekend, but I’m back with another chapter. This time we find our dauntless heroine faced with yet another moral quandary. She has to decide if exposing her deepest secret and potentially sacrificing herself is worth it if it means her pack will be spared. I've included a very graphic and detailed description of the killing and butchering of a deer in this chapter, so as always please use your discretion choosing to interact with my work. The references to criminology and investigative techniques are based on practices in the United States, so readers from other countries might find discrepancies between the approaches Kiba uses versus the ones they may be acquainted with. I did a fair amount of research throughout the drafting process and really put my heart and soul into this chapter, so I hope you enjoy!

You can read the previous chapter here!

The oppressive, dry air around you keeps you on high alert. A lingering sense of uneasiness permeates every cell in your being. The only thing grounding you is the weight of your companion, his frail frame nestled in your arms.

What if he changes his mind and follows me to the den? I can't put my faith into someone I just met, let alone a human. I'm so stupid, I should have taken care of him when I had the chance. Nothing good ever comes from trusting them.

"Hey, big sis Izumi," a faint voice calls out to you. "This isn't the way we normally go back home. Weren't we supposed to turn left at that big boulder back there?"

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you carelessly missed the clandestine trail that took you to your clan's den. Somehow this was his fault too.

"You're right, Hana. Sorry, big sis is a little scatterbrained today. Let's backtrack a bit before continuing on our way," you sighed while inaudibly cursing profanities under your breath.

All. His. Fault.

After a small detour you made it to the secretive sanctuary you and your clan called home. It wasn't too fancy, just a regular rather mundane den maintained by you and the older wolves, but what made it a truly resplendent refuge in your eyes was the dearth of people in the nearby area. In fact, in the decades that your clan had lived in this area there were only a handful of unwanted visitors. Mostly hikers getting lost, and the occasional ninja passing through, too busy on their mission to give any extra thought to a pack of unassuming wildlife, but for the most part you lived a blissfully solitary life here.

And that's just how you liked it...is what you would normally think if your mind wasn't so cluttered with images of that dreadfully attractive man. What was his name again? Oh right, Kiba. Kiba Inuzuka.

You know, the ninken you'd chatted with on a run recently had nothing but praise for his clan. Most of them enjoyed belonging to their human partners, choosing to live that domestic life instead of embracing their divine right to be feral but free, unshackled by the weight of mankind. Couldn't be me, you thought to yourself. I belong to no one but myself.

Still, there was a nagging feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach. The electrical impulses stimulating your nervous system jolted an emotion that you hadn't felt in years, decades even. A voracious appetite that couldn't be quashed by the flesh of your clan's latest catch. No, the only prey that could quell this craving was patiently waiting for you, a brazen yet charming man who so naively trusted a woman who committed theft right in front of his face. How gullible can one person be?

Well, you thought to yourself while gently placing Kōtarō next to the other youths huddled together, sleeping peacefully, I guess I shouldn't keep my date waiting for me too long now, should I?

"Big sis is going to head out now, okay Hana?" You gave a nod to the young pup who was eagerly looking up at you with an expectant gaze. "Go get some sleep, you must be exhausted."

"Okay, big sis Izumi. See you at moonrise," the drowsy whelp yawned while unsteadily walking towards the rest of her snoozing pack.

One final goodbye to the clan's elder and you were off. You could scarcely contain the fervor that was growing inside of your belly. You should be fast asleep like the rest of your pack, it was the middle of the day after all, but with every step you took there was an accompanying vibration of pure, unadulterated energy that invigorated your very core.

How long has it been since you felt this way? How many years of self-imposed seclusion were you throwing away by giving into this desire? You did swear off talking to humans, after all.

But this feels different. He feels different, a facetious fib that would hurt no one but yourself if it turned out you were wrong. Because at the end of the day, the rest of your pack were just simple wolves. If this man turned out to have ill intent towards you, at the very least you would be the only lycanthrope in his crosshairs. You made a promise to yourself to never turn anyone else into the same affront to nature, the downright monstrosity, that you are.

And unless there's some underground werewolf fraternity I haven't found in this past century, it's safe to say that we won't be running into the freakshow Freemasons anytime soon.

You scoff at yourself as you pass the familiar boulder that denotes the halfway mark to your destination. After a quick exhale you double down your efforts, noticing that the sun is far past its apex in the sky. How long has it been since you left the man? Is he still there? Well, no use in doubting yourself now, you already committed to rendezvousing and you don't think he's the type who would appreciate being stood up.

It's not like I have a choice, you jeer at yourself, he saw me transform right in front of him. Even if I did get away today, he would just track me down. His outrageously keen sense of smell is definitely a big nuisance. I'm honestly surprised a human can even-

"Hello there, princess." The baritone intonations echoed throughout the forest, assaulting your eardrums with a barbed arrogance.

You were so lost in thought that even your astonishment was delayed. The world was buffering around you, the taunts not processing until you were practically face to face with the man. The sudden realization that your date would soon come to fruition causes you to lose your balance, and you trip over yourself. A rugged hand reaches down and grabs you before you become one with the earth.

"Wow, it looks like you just can't stop falling for me," a roaring laugh coinciding with the lighthearted mockery flitters around your body.

You would be angrier with him if he didn't just save you from unceremoniously landing on your face, so you decide, rather judiciously, to ignore that last comment.

The man helps you up to your feet, stifling a laugh by holding his other hand up to his mouth. Ah, so he's the type to laugh at his own lame ass jokes, you think to yourself while you brush off the dust that has accumulated over your cloak.

"Welcome back, princess," a glowing smile radiated from the man's face as he folded his arms across his chest, "You sure took your sweet time getting back here. I almost thought you stood me up."

"Well you know, we princesses are very busy women," you say while rolling your eyes and doing an exaggerated curtsy, "And the court jester is not high on the list of people we'd rush for." A complete lie. You were just trying to call his bluff by being cheeky in response. If his hearing was as good as his sense of smell he'd steal you instantly from the castle window you were precariously perched on.

"Ouch. Is that the faintest hint of sarcasm I'm detecting from you, princess?" He was betting on your inability to keep the façade up for much longer. Even you could smell the pheromones that you were unconsciously emitting, so not even Selene the Moon Goddess would be able to get you out of this one. It looks like the only thing to do now is up the ante and bank on getting a royal flush.

"My deepest and most sincere apologies, sir. Let me make it up to you by offering our special menu for this evening," you proclaim while holding out your hand after an exaggerated flourish.

"I'm listening." The man raises one eyebrow while keeping his arms crossed.

"May I interest you in the finest and freshest venison you've ever tasted in your entire life?" You ask with a deviously fiendish smirk, arm outstretched and beckoning.

"Venison?" He replied incredulously.

"Well, it's not like this forest just has a bunch of wild bulls roaming around. And since someone destroyed my changing room, I can't just mosey on back to Konoha for dinner." The thought of procuring dinner for the two of you ignited a primal urge that was welling up inside of you like a tsunami, a tumultuous tempest growing stronger by the second.

"It might not be that steak dinner you were hoping for, but this will be an experience of a lifetime. I promise. Wolf's honor."

Kiba could sense the excitement in your voice. And it's true, there was nothing that aroused your senses more than the thrill of the hunt and the very moment when your canines punctured the supple flesh of your unsuspecting prey.

"Alright, you know what? Sure," he acquiesced. "How can I say no to a face like that?"

That's all you needed to hear. With a quick nod and a seductive wink you responded, "Wait here, sugar. I'll be right back."

You'd already been listening for those unmistakable subtle murmurs, the heartbeats of your prey. 25 meters northeast. There it was. You instinctively transformed your hands into claws and sharpened your canines, the blistering pain heightening your senses even further.

A few more meters and it was in view, a delectable yet unsuspecting doe. You perched yourself in a nearby tree bough before inhaling slowly through your mouth. You could practically taste the umami in the air. You dug your claws partially into the tree bark, bracing yourself for the best part of any dinner, the kill.

You bellow a fierce growl as you jump down from the aging oak and delve into your target with an ardent vehemence. When your nails vigorously pierce the pliable frame, you're overcome by a sense of unadulterated euphoria. You can feel the life seep out of your victim and onto your claws, the red nectar painting your nails a gorgeous hue. A wave of exhilaration hits as you feel the young deer twitch and resist against you.

I'll never get tired of this, you think to yourself, a sinister smirk emerging on your face. After all, this is the closest I'll get to feeling alive again. After a few more seconds of riding this high you decide to put your prey out of its misery. With an impressive amount of force you ruthlessly chomp down on its jugular, the doe's body going limp almost instantaneously. You swear you could almost feel the deer's soul leaving its tattered vessel. The thought sends a merciless chill down your spine.

Guess I still got a little bit of humanity left in me after all of these years, you chide at yourself, who woulda guessed?

You hoisted the ragged body of your prey onto your back, supporting it with one of your claws while admiring the other. Damn this shade of red really is to die for, you chortled as you marveled at the splotchy tint covering your nails and most of your arm. Well, you think to yourself as you adjust the deer on your back to a more comfortable and secure position, I shouldn't keep him waiting much longer now, should I?

You were feeling especially giddy on the walk back, sauntering with a lithe stride and huge smile on your blood-spattered face. The ecstasy from earlier steadfastly persisting despite the flow of time, the lingering scent of your delicious meal keeping it from dissipating fully. As you grew closer to your meeting spot, though, the bliss was covertly being replaced with nagging twangs of anxiety. You remembered that there was an unfortunate drawback to dinner this evening, you'd have to be vulnerable with a human and share the strange details about your paradoxical existence that even you didn't fully understand.

"Back so soon, princess?" You heard a familiar voice ring out, cutting through the loitering anxiety with a dulcet effervescence.

"Do you need some help ther-

Oh gosh, you're covered in blood. Are you okay?" A confused yet profound weight clung onto his words.

"I'm more than okay," you smiled as you readjusted today's kill with one spry motion, "I'm practically giddy, you could say. Don't you think this shade of red is simply ravishing?"

You could see the look of horror on his face as you sauntered closer. And why wouldn't he be intimidated? It's not every day you see a young woman with the carcass of a mangled corpse slumped over her shoulders, shrouded in a sanguine veil.

"What's wrong? Wolf's got your tongue?" you chuckled as a self-assured smirk involuntarily took over your countenance.

"You're just so-" he appeared as though he was lost in thought, as if the words that described the monstrosity before him simply escaped from his mind's tenuous grasp.

"So what?" you had to stop yourself from giggling.

"So..." he put his hand up to his face, covering it partially, "so freakin' hot when you're all covered in blood like that. Sorry, I need a minute."

Did he just say "hot?" So he's not terrified of the anomalous atrocity standing before him? That was a new one. Usually anyone who witnessed you in this state would have already ran for their lives. But I guess he's just too cocky, or maybe too dumb to realize just who, or rather what he asked out on a dinner date. You know, you think to yourself, I didn't expect our "date" to make it this far. By now most men are long gone, and I'd be enjoying this feast in my solitude. But this idiot is still here, which means I really do have to tell him the truth, don't I?

An extended silence filled the stale air with an insidious touch of peril that grew ever stronger with each passing second. The corpse on your back began to stiffen, rigor mortis setting in with an uncaring indifference to your conundrum.

"Did you," his voice trails off, breaking the silence briefly before the quiet takes hold once again.

"Did I?" you manage to jabber, your pulse quickening as the anticipation stimulates your nervous system.

"Did you really kill that deer for me? A whole deer just for me? Wow, I can't believe you had me speechless for a minute there. Me? Of all people?" he blabbered as he put one of his hands behind his head, his head shaking ever so slightly from the incredulity of this entire situation.

"Not just for you," you retort in a shaky voice. There he goes again with that unmistakable haughtiness in his tone. Your trepidation turns into irritation as you regain control over your psyche once more. "There's no way you'd be able to eat all of this anyways."

"You wanna bet?" a smug grin was beginning to form on his face.

"Sure," you acquiesce while shrugging," If you can't eat every last bite then you leave the forest and never come back," you proposition, calling his bluff with an equal level of impudence.

"Hey now, that wasn't the plan. You promised me a dinner date, and we're going to have a date, princess," he declared as he crossed his arms, keeping full eye contact with you the entire time. "Or do I have to detain you and bring you back to the station for questioning? There's probable cause that illegal hunting was-"

"T-that won't be necessary," you bite your tongue a little as you stutter out the words.

"Good girl, that's what I like to hear." His expression lightened as he beamed a radiant smile in your direction. "But before we begin the festivities, I need you to answer one thing for me."

Goodbye sweet solitude, it was nice knowing you. Well, it's better to just get it over with and break the bone fully so that the fractured splinters of my existence can be set properly. The first step to recovery is acknowledging that I fucked up royally, and there's no denying that.

"You're a-" he began, but was cut off by your curt response before he could utter the repugnant word.

"A werewolf, yes."

"So, you're not denying it?" his tone was an octave higher than usual, spurred on by his astonishment.

"It can't be helped. You saw me transform. More than once. Even a monster knows when it's checkmate," you sigh as you lower your prey to the ground, placing the pallid body gingerly on the dry earth. "Tsumi," you say as you slowly rise back up, eyes closed and hands out with your palms up. "Even a golden general is still just a pawn once that thin veneer is washed away."

"What are you doing?" You hear a voice drawing closer to your body, heavy footsteps crunching the mid-autumn leaves.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" you exclaim with your eyes still shut tightly, holding back a few tears so desperately trying to make their escape.

"Listen, princess, I-"

"If you're going to arrest me just do it already!" you screech, using all of your might to hold back the onslaught of tears on the cusp of breaching the barricade of your eyelids. "Just please don't go after my pack! You can do whatever you want with me, all I ask is that you spare them."

"Who said anything about arresting you?"

"You did," you sniffled, looking up at the man with a few meandering teardrops clouding your vision slightly, "multiple times."

"Me? Arrest you? Never," he reached out to brush a few strands of your hair away from your eyes. "I really don't like making girls cry, it makes me feel like a total jackass," he said as he tried to hold your gaze in vain. It was impossible for you to maintain eye contact with him, your sense of self-loathing at what you had become weighed you down with an insurmountable amount of pressure.

"But isn't it your job to lock away monsters like me?" you whimpered while averting your eyes from the man.

"I could never detain a girl as pretty as you, unless it's for house arrest."

"I don't have a house," you respond flatly, cautiously glancing up to meet the man's surprisingly jovial disposition.

"Who said anything about your house? I have a pad too," Kiba said while puffing out his chest and pointing to himself, "It might not be that big since Kōtarō has been extra stingy with this year's raise, but all we need is one bedroom, right?"

This man. This cheeky ass bastard. He did just see you transform, right? And yet he chooses to hit on you relentlessly. He's either unbelievably fearless or he has a death wish. Either way, you can't help but admire his audacity. The sheer absurdity of his responses to you dispels your apprehension and you begin to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Kiba furrows his brow as he places one hand on his chin.

"You," it was incredibly hard for you to suppress your laughter long enough to continue your jive, "You seriously just invited me into your house. Me? The werewolf. The queen of abominations herself?"

"I said what I said," he countered with a sour expression.

"Sorry, I just," you take a second to inhale, regaining the breath you lost to the overwhelming humor of the situation, "I don't think I've met a human this crazy since Hidan."

"Wait, Hidan?" Kiba's countenance changed instantaneously as soon as the words left your bloodied lips.

"Yeah, you know him or something?" you shrugged with a detached tone in your voice.

"Know him?" You could feel the palpable indignation, festering with a sharp ferocity, "he killed my sensei's lover."

"Ouch. Yeah, he does tend to do that," you realize that you may have made a fatal mistake by bringing up Hidan's name.

"Wait, how do you know him??" The look of disgust evident on Kiba's face pierced through the remnants of your frail barricade.

"Oh well, once upon a time we may have had... a fling or two." You resigned yourself to the fact that you'd divulged too much and there was no turning back.

"A fling? Wait, aren't you a little too young for that? You don't look a day over twenty five."

"Aww, you really know how to flatter a gal. Try adding a century to that, and you'll be a bit closer to my actual age." There's no use in lying now, if he can handle that I'm a monster, then what's the harm in sharing this with him too?

"A... century?" The question was more for himself than for you. It seemed like he was performing calculus, the numbers dancing in his imagination like infernal reminders of the circumstance he found himself in. Steadfastly approaching the limit to infinity, but never quite reaching the apex of the function.

"So you're... 125 years old?" It looks like he was finally ready to submit his self-imposed mathematics assignment, but the answer key was obscured by the enigma of your presence.

"Give or take a few years. Birthdays aren't as magical after you hit one hundred, a painful reminder more than anything else, if I'm being honest." Your eyes lost their lustre as you reminisced about the kin you'd lost over the years, those who would never again be there to celebrate with you. "Heh, well not like I'd expect you to understand."

"But you're telling me Hidan does understand?"

Jeez, was he seriously still on that? It was just a silly little affair, a trite nonissue really. Damn, he must really hate Hidan, you think to yourself. Maybe you could use his jealousy to your advantage though, if you play your cards right.

"Wellll," you draw out the word with a long, purposeful drawl.

"Well?" Kiba scoffs, mimicking your tone.

After a minute of silence you retort with, "It's not like there's tons of immortals I can pick and choose from, unless there's an underground society of sickos I never got the invite to. Maybe it's nice to connect with someone who shares the same life experiences once in a while," you say as you look off into the distance, unearthing the buried memories you'd kept tucked away for years.

"Life experiences? And what exactly are these so-called 'experiences'? Does homicide count?"

"Hey, that was one time, and he upskirted me first," you smirk as you hold out an index finger for emphasis. Unbeknownst to you, your head shakes involuntarily as you utter those words.

You were met with a revulsive glance that was all too familiar. Good, maybe he'll stay away from me now. He doesn't need to know you stretched the truth a bit. The reality is that you'd sworn off unnecessary interaction with humans for decades now because you didn't want to hurt them. The only reason you let yourself become close with Hidan was because of his immortality.

"You're lying," Kiba candidly declares as he shoots a disapproving look in your direction.

"W-what makes you think that?" you ask as you take one of your hands and mindlessly stroke the front of your neck.

"Actions speak louder than words, princess. You can barely maintain eye contact, there were unnaturally long pauses between your responses, and not to mention you're stimulating your vagus nerve right now, whether you're aware of it or not," Kiba proclaimed as a smug expression returned to his face. "C'mon now, you didn't think you'd be able to fool me that easily? Even a rookie would be able to recognize the contradictions in your statements."

You bite your lip hard in response to those pointed accusations. It looks like you'd have to approach this from another angle.

"I plead the fifth," you say as you raise your hands in concession, "You win this time, officer. But before we continue this little chat of ours, why don't we start dinner preparations before it gets too late?" The limp body of your fallen prey had been nestled next to you this whole time, but its presence was overshadowed by the gravity of the conundrum you found yourself in.

"Okay," Kiba said, humoring your feeble attempt to change the conversation, "but I'm not leaving until I'm fully satisfied."

"You won't have to worry about that. I'll definitely satiate my honored guest's hunger," you said with a slight bow, hand partially outstretched.

"Heh, I look forward to it with bated breath." You could hear the pace of Kiba's heartbeat intensify ever so slightly when those words escaped his lips.

"So, do you need help butchering the-"

"I got it," you flatly interject. You shifted your focus from the man to the carcass of your delectably succulent spoils.

"Wow, so I get dinner and a show? Color me impressed." The candor with which Kiba responded tickled your fancy.

Oh, I'll give you a show, alright.

After a terse nod you cracked your neck and knuckles with an intense vehemence. You fish in your satchel for the gambrel and rope you'd prepared beforehand. One deft toss later, your rope is securely fastened onto a sturdy bough and all ready for you to hoist up your catch. As you walk towards the corpse you instinctively sharpen your claws and grab onto the body with a fervid vigor. After a few seconds and one big heave later, the object commanding your full attention beckons for your inner beast with an arousing aura.

You intuitively glide your razor-sharp nails through the layers of flesh, separating the skin from the muscle with an effortless prowess. You carefully and neatly place the deer's hide on the ground next to you before returning to work. A deafening crack assaulted Kiba's eardrums as you forcibly placed enough pressure on the doe's neck to sever its head. Another few merciless swipes from your sanguine claws and a harsh thud from the deer's front legs falling to the ground, accompanying the cacophonous melody of murder. The first part of your dinner preparations were now complete.

You flash Kiba a mischievous smile before refocusing on the task at hand, at claw, rather. You work your talons parallel to the deer's rib cage, passing through the shoulder joint with a terrifying expertise. You then spend a few minutes shaving off the excess fat before sinking your claws into the area just under the hip bone, slicing from there to the doe's back bone with an effortless, fluid motion. You run your nails down and along the back bone of your catch while making a concerted effort to not leave any morsels behind. With one more callous swat of your claws the delicious flesh is freed from its ligamentary penitentiary.

You return your focus to the deer's neck, and with a cruel indifference you meticulously tore the meat off of the bone with aplomb. A few more slices to the rib cage and your pile of gamey goodness grew substantially. It was almost time for the grand finale. Another savage snap emitted yet another barbaric rasp into the air, catching your company off guard, as evidenced by the disquieted winces you could see in the peripherals of your vision. With more than half of your prey fully dissected, it was now time to redirect your attention to the deer's hind quarters. You begin by puncturing the sinews near the knee and slice parallel with the leg bone, reaching the hip within mere seconds. After rotating your hand a few degrees, you effortlessly extract the most dazzling sirloin tips.

Damn, I'm good at this.

With a rapturous chortle you flash Kiba the most self indulgent grin. He was nothing but a hapless buck caught in the blinding light of your exhilarating, intoxicating yet oh so ephemeral exuberance. The squelching sound of the doe's innards as you inserted your nails just under the achilles tendon and pressed in with an inhuman apathy resonated throughout the surrounding area, a cautionary warning to all of the forest's inhabitants. As you unshackle the rest of the meat from the hind legs you look up once more at your dinner date. The countenance that greeted you could only be described by one word, awe. Pure, unadulterated awe.

You pick up the slabs of shoulder meat and begin to diligently clean it with your claws. Trimming the excess fat was always the most laborious part of your meal prep, but perhaps having the company of someone else today was an adequate remedy for the tedium. Once you sufficiently spruce up a generous portion of the meat, you offer a hefty chunk of it to your companion. You're greeted with a look of confusion that reminds you of your grotesque nature once more.

"Oh yeah, humans don't eat raw meat," you mull as you're overcome by a fit of hysterics. The dichotomy of your two very different existences was too much for your brain to process right now.

"Is that a challenge, princess? If it's good enough for you, it sure as hell is good enough for me," Kiba responded while puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance.

"I'd rather our date be here and not in a hospital room," you respond while trying to suppress the laughter, a tenuous attempt at regaining your composure. "C'mon, let's start a fire and you can taste a bit of my cooking. I might not be that great of a chef, but the ingredients will be the freshest you've ever had."

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I possibly refuse?" You could see a wave of relief wash over Kiba's face. It turns out he wasn't the only one who could sniff out someone's deceit. "Next time, though, I'll definitely have it raw."

"Of course you will." Wait, next time? Did he just insinuate that this wasn't going to be a one and done affair? Haven't you frightened him enough for one day? Talk about a real glutton for punishment.

"Alright, I need to clean up over here, so if you'd gather some firewood that'd be much appreciated." You leisurely walk towards the gambrel and unhook it from the tree's bough.

"Damn, so no special fire jutsu that will flambé us up some dinner in a flash?" You could sense a budding ripple of disappointment circulate the air around Kiba.

"No special tricks or theatrics here. What you see is what you get."

"You're not holding out on me again, are you, princess?" Kiba was almost whimpering at this point, just like a pup who lost his favourite ball in the river.

"No. I'm not," you respond flatly, an unenthusiastic expression overtaking your face. "Now go get that firewood. And s-stop calling me your princess." At this point you begin to feel the warmth build up in your cheeks, an untimely and unfortunate betrayal by your sympathetic nervous system.

"Was that the slightest bit of hesitation in your voice, princess?" You didn't even have to look over to see Kiba's expression because you could feel the omnipresence of his self-satisfied simper.

"Just go already!" you exclaim while trying to hide your face.

"Alright, princess. I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too much, okay?" You could hear his cocky guffaws as he walked off into the depths of the forest.

Jeez, talk about confidence. Does he have no sense of shame? If only I could be half as self-assured as he was, you ponder to yourself while cleaning up the makeshift slaughterhouse around you. You partitioned out a few chunks of venison for tonight's dinner. I wonder how much he'll want to eat? Wait, why do I care about what he wants? He should be grateful he gets any of this, of my kill.

You find yourself on autopilot as you amble about the nearby area, tidying up the trimmings caught in the thickets and the entrails splattered on the rocks. You weren't sure how much time had passed since you began clearing the area, but you were certain that it must have been a rather lengthy period since the cool veil of twilight now gently embraced your surroundings.

Hm. Maybe he did give up and hightail it out of here. I guess that means I'm free to head back-

"Heyyy!" The shrill baritone interrupts your thoughts. "Sorry it took me a while, princess." You could hear that Kiba was breathing heavier than normal as he drew closer to your meeting spot.

"Oh, you're back," you hesitantly mutter.

"Hey, is that anyway to greet a guy who brought you this?" Kiba confidently stretches his arm out, opening up his clenched hand to reveal a lighter.

"I don't smoke," you respond with a perplexed expression, baffled by his rather dubious choice of a peace offering.

"It's not for lighting cigarettes, silly. It's for the fire."

"The fire?" Oh no, don't tell me he-

"Yeah, remember how you said you can't use fire jutsu? Well neither can I, so I thought this would come in handy!" Kiba had the biggest, most dopey yet smug grin on his face. It almost made you feel guilty that the deer wasn't the only thing that would be roasted tonight.

He doesn't know how to light a fire. One of the top investigators for the Konoha Military Police Force can't light a simple campfire.

You stifle the urge to break out into hysterics over this new information you were now privy to. "I know how to light a fire. That's one of the most basic skills anyone could have."

Kiba's face became instantaneously flushed as he scrambles to hide the lighter in his back pocket. "Y-yeah well, I was just trying to make your life a bit easier. That's all. Jeez, it's not like I assumed you were a helpless damsel in distre-"

"You know what would make my life easier right now?" you interject before he can finish his ramblings.

"What?"

"If you sit down, keep quiet, and just let me handle dinner. You did bring the firewood, right?" You asked as you peered over at his suspiciously empty hands.

"O-of course I did! Who do you think I am? Kiba Inuzuka always completes his missions... when he's not busy on a more important mission, that is." You could hear the confidence dissipate from his voice with every word he spoke.

"You completely forgot, didn't you?"

"Well, you see. I uh-"

You let out a weary, heavy sigh as you beckon for him to come closer. "Lucky for you, since I had so much extra time just waiting for my dinner date's return, I was able to grab more than enough branches for us."

"See? All part of my plan!" He began to nervously chuckle as you put your hand on his shoulder and guided him to the impromptu campsite you had prepared in his absence.

As you make your way to the clearing, the wafting mid-autumn breeze tousles the strands of your hair with a cool yet affectionate caress. It was closer to dusk now, and the stars shining above you began to solemnly dance in the night sky with a poignant melancholy. Every step closer that you take brings with it a feeling of profound grief, an emotion spurred on by the uncanny familiarity of the situation you now find yourself in. This reminds me so much of when I first met him, you think to yourself as you take those final strides to the campsite, your company following closely by your side.

You silently take a seat on some rocks next to the campfire. Since you had ample time to make preparations while Kiba was gone, all of the supplies you needed for a scrumptious dinner were laid out in front of you both.

"Wow, you really know how to treat a guy!" Kiba blurts out with a boisterous, howling laugh. "Seriously, you set all of this up just for me?"

"I told you, I always pay back my debts in spades," you couldn't bring yourself to look at Kiba right now. The haunting grip of your past restricted your movement, shackling and confining you in an inescapable and ruthless prison of recollections.

"And pay me back you shall," Kiba chimes in while reaching over you to grab two pieces of venison, tenderly placing one in your hand. "So why don't we start with an easy question?"

I guess it's better to just get it over with. The sooner we're done here, the sooner I can make my way back home. You take a voracious bite out of the chunk of venison and swallow harshly with an audible gulp. You then muster up enough willpower to look in Kiba's direction.

Geez, why does he always have to be smiling like such an idiot? What's there to smile about, anyways? This has been an absolutely awfu-

"This has been an absolutely wonderful day, princess." His words cut through your thoughts like a honed katana. "I don't think I've had this much excitement in years. You sure do know how to keep a guy on his toes. I would say that this has to be one of the best days I've ever had, but..."

And here it comes. You could already feel the frigid metal clasps around your wrists, tightening with an unyielding force. The freedom you worked so tirelessly to achieve would now be gone in an instant.

"...why did you have to ruin the mood by mentioning another guy's name?"

"Huh?" The shock from his last statement left you paralyzed in a stupor of astonishment.

"Don't you 'huh?' me. I know you know what or rather who I'm talking about."

Oh. Hidan. He's talking about Hidan. Damn, he's really taking this whole situation out of proportion.

"You're seriously still thinking about Hidan?" When Hidan's name escapes your lips your voice goes up an octave.

"I don't know, are you still thinking about him?" Kiba retorts with a snarky reproach.

"It was a fling. A simple hookup, nothing more."

"You said there were multiple flings earlier."

Goddamn, you can't deny the fact that Kiba's attention to detail when it comes to recalling your past statements is extraordinary. If you wanted to get this conversation moving in the right direction you'd have to reluctantly swallow your pride once more.

"Okay, yes. We hooked up a few times throughout the course of my... alt phase."

"Alt... phase?"

"Y'know, like, dressing in alternative fashion and listening to grunge? Jeez, I'm kind of embarrassed thinking about how I used to be back then." You look off to the side while fidgeting with the remains of the hunk of meat in your palm. "I was just angry at everything and tired of the world. He was there to satisfy that weird craving I had to self-harm and..."

Kiba's expression changed as soon as he heard those last few words you spoke. Even he must have felt the profound sadness and despair that clung to your morose disclosure.

"Let's forget about him, okay? I think it's safe to say you'll never see him again." Kiba's voice had a softness to it now that soothed your frayed nerves.

"Wow, such confidence in your voice. Do you know something I don't?" Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but ask for confirmation.

"He's as good as dead." Kiba nodded with an assurance that was difficult to question.

"As good as dead? Are we talking about the same person?" Your eyes widen as you process that last statement.

"One of my old classmates dismembered him. But honestly? If I knew he was going to hit on you, I would have done the job myself." Kiba cracked his neck as he snarled out those last few words.

"Hidan... is dismembered?" You start chuckling to yourself as you imagine what he must look like right now, "Why, that's the funniest thing I've heard all year, all century even!"

You took a moment to regain your composure before you continued, "I always thought that one day his excessive confidence would lead to his downfall. Thank you for sharing that with me."

"Hey, princess. As much as I like to laugh with you about your pathetic ex, I think it'd be better if we just enjoyed the rest of tonight without worrying about stuff like that." Kiba placed one arm around your shoulder while inching himself closer to you. "Tonight it's just you, me, and the stars."

"You know what? I think that's actually a splendid idea." You let out a hushed sigh of relief as he cuddled closer to you.

Just this once, you think to yourself, for just one night maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let a human in.

"I do have one final question, though, before we move onto the main course." Kiba delicately placed his hand under your chin, lifting up your face so that you had no choice but to look in his glistening eyes.

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" you eloquently inquire with a quick and slightly exaggerated flourish of your hands.

"Are you really over 100 years old?"

"Heh, but of course." You couldn't help but answer in a sultry manner, flashing your fangs at the end of your statement, restraining yourself from biting into his neck.

You could see Kiba gesturing, doing a little victory pose as he uttered those next words, "Score. I love me a fine cougar, erm I mean wolf."

Gosh, he's so dumb. So dumb yet so clever at the same time, especially when it came to him sussing out the truth from you. The crass sense of humor emanating from this man only enhanced his inexplicable charm. It had been a long time, a very long time since you felt like this.

"You better watch out. I heard the big bad wolf has a way of eating out the hearts of unsuspecting travelers 'round these parts. Especially on full moons like tonight." The luminescent reflection of the moon bounced off of Kiba's eyes as you stared into them.

"I guess it's a good thing someone already has my heart under lock and key."

Just this one night. I'll allow myself to let go, one night can't hurt. Can it?

----- TO BE CONTINUED -----

#kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #boruto #naruto #naruto fanfic #boruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #boruto fanfiction #werewolf #werewolf au #werewolf oc #naruto x you #x reader #x you #my fanfiction #max writes #tw: graphic depictions of violence and death #tw: mental health

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palimpsessed · 1 year

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The third annual! Questions by @captain-aralias .

Complete Fics for 2022:

I Can't Believe He's Not Butter

4,941 words

by any other name…

3,035 words

Simon Snow and Dracula's Curse, A Scooby Doo AU

46,064 words

In Progress Fics for 2022:

Slings and Eros

70,055 words added in 2022

Total:

4 complete fics, 1 fic in progress

Word count:

124,095

Thoughts:

I thought my output this year had really waned, but I only completed one more fic in 2020 and 2021. My word count has been pretty consistent, with this year's actually being higher than 2021 (107k) and 2020 (113k). So maybe I need to be kinder to myself. It's truly just having the specter of a massively long wip looming for a second year running.

Since I included SAE in last year's review, I'm going to stick with the three fics I haven't talked about yet. All I ever talk about is SAE anyway. However, I think this works better for writers with more fics to talk about because there would be less repetition in the answers.

best/worst title?

best:

I Can't Believe He's Not Butter

What else is there to say? This fic is about an emo syrup container watching an attractive tub of margarine being spread seductively over pancakes.

worst:

by any other name...

I like this but perhaps it doesn't pin down the point of the fic well enough. But I really couldn't lead with "dicknames" or "cocktail" so. Shakespeare it is.

best/worst summary?

best:

SSADC

"The gang is invited to spend Halloween weekend in famed seaside town Whitby, North Yorkshire. It's supposed to be a holiday filled with music, history, and more vampire fangs than Simon Snow has ever dreamed of. But when a flying fiend claiming to be Count Dracula himself shows up, warning tourists and locals alike to stay away from the famous ruins of Whitby Abbey, Simon and the rest of the Enigma Ltd. gang know they've got another mystery on their hands. Matters are only further complicated when Simon's longtime professional rival, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Grimm-Pitch of Pitch Paranormal Investigations, swoops in with perfect hair to steal Enigma Ltd.'s case.

"Will the gang manage to solve the mystery in time to save Whitby from the Count and his Curse? And more importantly, will Simon solve the mystery of his very confusing feelings for Baz?"

I could see this one printed on the back of a Scooby Doo DVD clamshell. (I absolutely do check out Scooby Doo DVDs from my library every Halloween.)

worst:

BAON

"Baz has been making a new list and he’s decided it’s time to share it with his unsuspecting boyfriend."

Again, I was being coy. This probably should have been something like: "Baz decides to give Simon's cock a worthy nickname. Unapologetic puns ensue." You know, after I did this last year, I actually revised my worst summary to make the changes that I felt would improve it. Maybe I'll do that with this one, too. Maybe.

best/worst first line?

best:

ICBHNB

"The existence (if one can be so bold as to call it that) of a blue plate diner denizen holds all the shine one can find on a cloudy-water-spotted soup spoon. There are occasional flashes of warm, bright pink neon ("open 24 hours") to give you the sense of a rose-tinted view, but by and large, the days offer little more variety and adventure than stuck-on food and creeping rust stains.

"In this place, soup spoons are to solitary condiments like myself what reflecting pools are to Narcissus."

Okay, maybe this is a bit too long to consider a line, but oh well. I hate writing descriptions of physical places. I would much prefer my characters just float around in a void and have endless amounts of banter-laden dialogue. But the diner was integral to this story and I think I did a pretty good job with it, introducing it along with our narrator, pancake syrup!Baz, and using it to set the mood.

worst:

SSADC

"It was a dark and stormy night."

This was obviously intentionally done, so I'm okay with it. Except for the fact that somewhere along the way, the period disappeared without me noticing so it just sat there with no punctuation for weeks. The very first sentence. Off to a strong start.

best/worst last line?

best:

SSADC

"Hey, Baz," she said. "How come you're not in costume?"

You need the context for this one to make sense, but trust me. I love how punchy it turned out, and also that it wasn't planned. I just knew in the moment.

Also, ICBHNB is somewhat open-ended, but I do really like how the last sentence revisits the opening of the fic and shows how much Baz has changed his mind about his "life" now that Simon is in it.

worst

BAON

"We never do get back to Baz’s list."

It's okay, but it's a bit lacking in impact after the repartee immediately before it. This was just my way of fading to black so I didn't have to actually write the sex.

looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Fewer. I thought I'd finally wrap on SAE and be able to tackle more of my other ideas. I had been determined not to write anything else until it was complete, but at some point I decided it was healthier for me to indulge a side fic now and again for the sake of my creative sanity. I didn't want to start resenting SAE because I couldn't work on other things. More to look forward to next year…

what pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I didn't think I'd ever have cause to write pancake syrup/margarine. But here we are.

what's your favorite story this year? not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

It's so hard to choose. I'm really happy with all of them and they're all very different things. I suppose SSADC because I've been working on that concept off and on since I got into fandom and it was nowhere near as clever or funny in my early drafts and planning. I was frustrated with it for a long time, but then it ended up being so much better for the delay. And it's done!!!!! I'm incredibly proud of it.

okay, now your most popular story?

I never know what the best metric is to judge this by? I suppose kudos?

BAON leads in kudos for the year, so I'll say that. Which makes sense. It's the closest I came to smut.

story most underappreciated by the universe?

SSADC and ICBHNB are my least kudoesed(?) over all years so I think they just didn’t find their audience.

story that could have been better?

I know I said I wasn't going to talk about SAE, but damn it could be SHORTER. I find myself most critical of it because I've sat with it for so long. But I still wouldn't change any of it. I always kind of avoid this question.

sexiest story?

Hmm. It probably should be BAON since it is about cocks, but I kind of want to say ICBHNB because that margarine!Simon does spread on awfully smooth… How many fics can boast a completely appropriate use of the word 'nubbin' anyway?

saddest story?

None of my finished fics were sad, but SAE definitely goes there with the deep emotions, so that one gets the honor.

most fun?

SSADC

I wrote a theme song! Lucy the dog dashes into action against "Dracula" wearing a Dracula dog costume. Simon chucks bricks at creepy hooded cultists because Penny didn't let him bring his sword. Baz and Simon absolutely do not speedwalk race down the street to the Whitby library. Penny’s skirt has pockets! No one ever gives Baz a leaflet. BJ and the CUNTS! Penis window. I need to reread this fic.

story with the single sweetest moment?

SSADC

Simon feeds Baz pieces of mint Aero while they're sharing a bed. That was pretty sweet. (Get it, sweet?)

Honorable mention to ICBHNB for being sweetest fic overall, in that the narrator is literally pancake syrup.

hardest story to write?

SSADC

Which I've been trying to write unsuccessfully since very early 2020 (does anyone remember very early 2020?). This version of the fic did give me some hiccups along the way, but finally sorting out the POV and tone of the fic was key, as was the timely Dracula tie-in. It finally felt right this time and I look forward to continuing the adventures of Enigma Ltd. and Pitch Paranormal Investigations.

easiest/most fun story to write?

I'm being difficult and answering with all three fics!

Easiest is a tie between the one shots: ICBHNB and BAON. Short and also mostly crack. I'd had both ideas tossing around in my head for a while and once the mood hit for each of them, they came about pretty quickly.

Most fun: SSADC (for the reasons stated under the other kind of "most fun" above)

did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I'm boring with this one and usually say 'no', but I will say that SSADC was my first time really writing the classic SnowBaz "enemies" to lovers dynamic. I think I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it, because I tend to shy away from that. Not sure if that will inform fic writing decisions going forward, but considering that nearly all of my ideas at the moment are But-What-If-SnowBaz AUs, the dynamics are mostly determined by how I'm adapting the worlds of the various AUs.

most overdue story?

hahaha

I can finally say SSADC and know that it's DONE!!!!!

did you take any writing risks this year? what did you learn from them?

Everything felt like a risk while I had a 100k+ wip. Staying in more lighthearted and cracky territory wasn't necessarily a risk, but certainly something that took me out of my comfort zone as a fic writer. Really, I think I just needed to give myself permission for it.

this year's theme and the story that demonstrates it?

Perseverance.

SSADC and SAE

I finished one and am determined to finish the other.

what are your fic writing goals for next year?

See above.

Seriously, though, my main goal is to wrap SAE and make sure it's satisfying for all the build up—for me and its readers. Aside from that, I have a whole list of prompts for myself and I think I'm really just waiting to get inspired about which one to work on first. I have my Bond AU pretty much entirely plotted out, so you'd think it would be that one. But I also want to do a second part for my Scooby AU. And maybe finally write that The Holiday AU. Or Galaxy Quest. Or Troop Beverly Hills. Or Bell Book and Candle. Or or or…

Here's a good goal: I would like to not write any more dactylic hexameter.

If you read all this way, thanks for taking this journey with me. See you for more words and more fics in 2023!

#fanfic year in review 2022 #icbhnb #by any other name #simon snow and dracula’s curse #slings and eros

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printscript · 2 years

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dear diary, still wondering if patching up your sworn enemy and trying to be his friend is going a little too far, or is it okay?

Pairing: /p dreamnotfound, romantic if you squint Words: 5718 Rating: T AU: Minecraft Manhunt Setting Warning: language and a few mild descriptions of injury Summary: Dream has an urge to hurt George at any opportunity with murderous intent, but George can't morally leave someone bleeding out on the ground. Maybe they start to get along. A/N: A very overdue gift for worddumb, whose writing kind of makes me lose my mind, as well as their titling methods. Please read their work: “An ode to needles and surgeons” first, as this is a gift sequel to that [though I supposed it can be read independently]. The styles won’t be the same, nor will the verb tense, but I hope I did the characterization justice.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42233439

–

George woke up in the morning with the feeling of aching for whatever it was that he had been dreaming about; at this point, he couldn’t really remember. His body felt sore, his back soaked with sweat from some time in the middle of the night spent under the blanket for too long, but the morning was cool as summer mornings could be. Something was warm... no, uncomfortably hot against his right arm, and it made his skin feel even more clammy because the longer he stayed lying there covered in sweat, the more he needed some kind of breeze to free him from the feeling of his hair plastered against his forehead.

Finally, George opened his eyes to the roof of his small tent. He thought he may have fallen asleep under the big oak outside, but the more he racked his mind for the memory of moving to the tent during the night, the less he was able to find it, so he deemed the whole process futile and closed his eyes again. Groggy with sleep still, George started to become fed up with whatever was so warm against not just his arm, he realized, but his entire right side.

He opened his eyes again.

Figures.

This was when he should have considered himself lucky that he had woken up before Dream did, but he kind of felt like this was worse. Dream had made himself too comfortable in his post-anesthetic sleep, now taking up at least 3/4ths of the space in the tent for himself, and leaving George with a dewy canvas wall on one side of him and an aggressive maniac smashed against his arm on the other, albeit said maniac was currently still asleep.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” George groaned aloud in a scratchy voice… hoping that maybe he could get out of this situation with a slap and a bruise at most. He could feel sweat uncomfortably pooling under the small of his back—that, or he was just so hot and cold at the same time that he was beginning to hallucinate.

After an excruciatingly long two minutes, Dream stirred and gave George enough room to finally sit up without waking him. Looking at him now… no, despite the lengths that George had gone to befriend Dream, it was unlikely that he would give in much more than he already has. Ugh, even the sense of triumph from last night was gone, and he began to dread the moment Dream would finally wake up and become his sworn enemy again.

George took a tuft of Dream’s hair in between his fingers and absentmindedly fiddled with it, attracted to the bright, unnatural color, while thoughts raced through his head. Dream muttered something incomprehensible in his sleep and George smiled, turning his fiddling into carding his fingers through bright hair in a friendly, calming way like he did yesterday, while he was trying to get Dream settled enough to sedate.

Speaking of, Dream’s leg looked fine from above the bandages, although his clothes were torn. Honestly, George would have loved to check on it in a few days, but it was likely that when Dream woke up, he would be gone as soon as he found something to use as a crutch.

That or try to take another swing at George, which frankly, George wasn’t too excited about.

The current temperature in the tent was starting to become a little unbearable, so George abandoned his worrying and shifted in order to creep outside. It felt nice there, granted the breeze was much better than overheating next to someone who wanted to kill you. He went to pull his pack out of the front of the tent and then got started eating some of his dried food. He’d cook something else for Dream in a few hours. The food he had prepared yesterday seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. That or he had been hungrier than he thought after fixing Dream’s leg, and his leftovers didn’t stay left over for very long. George leaned his bag up against the tree and took a glance at where the area around their makeshift camp.

Dream picked a pretty good place to get his bones broken. There was a river fairly close by and on a few of the cliffs, George could spot wild berries growing pretty close to ground level in the sun. It was bound to be a pretty nice break from the dried pork he had been eating previously, so George went over to see if they were edible.

Amid all of his troubles—he did have to climb quite a ways to get some of the lower berries—he saw something move, just for a second, over at his camp. If Dream was up and about, that would undo all the work that George had done on his leg, and that would just make the morning that much worse. Attempting to stay calm, he climbed down as carefully and as quickly as he could from the rocky crag and jogged towards the tent, preparing for disaster.

Even though his assumptions were well-founded, it turned out that he was quick to suppose that Dream would make a run for it. Instead of trying to limp as far away from George as he could, Dream had instead sat by the fire George had started and looked quite pensive. That was until he saw George (who was looking a little bit flabbergasted), and Dream’s face took on its usual aggressive nature as he stared daggers in George’s direction.

“I go to so much trouble, and you don’t even thank me.” George wasn’t really looking for actual gratitude. He was fairly sure he wasn’t ever going to get it, but he liked to try anyway. He at least figured that the more he communicated with Dream, the more likely they would become friends. Why in the world was Dream still hanging around, though; it really wasn’t like him. But then again, how was George supposed to judge Dream’s character when the most they knew about each other was things gained from near-death experiences and some tense chases across the empty landscape? —and also the strange bonding experiences involving George patching up his wounds and keeping his enemy alive… for some reason… to become friends? Ah, George figured, he might be a better judge of Dream’s character than he had thought.

“Whatever.”

Dream’s uncaring sentiment knocked George out of his thoughts. He appeared as if he had simply dragged himself by his arms the few feet it took to get from the tent to the fire by way of some kind of awkward crawl, and George immediately asked about his leg, to which Dream dismissively said that it was fine.

George walked towards his backpack and pulled out the rest of his pork, intending on giving it to Dream, though as soon as he got within range, Dream swiped an arm at his legs, attempting to grab or scratch or inflict some type of harm. George could only sigh and step back.

He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to deal with this maniac.

“Come on, Dream. You’ve got to be kidding me.” George let out something that sounded like half a laugh and half a hopeless sigh and threw the paper-wrapped pork jerky and a few stems full of sweetberries in Dream’s direction, to which Dream chuckled under his breath—in a way quite unlike him—before he caught them. In a surprisingly agile manner, George thought.

“I guess I shouldn’t give a shit, but do you feel any better?” the brunet tried again, hoping to get somewhere, anywhere.

“It hurts, duh, and no, you shouldn’t give a shit because I told you, friendship is for losers. As soon as this heals, you...” Dream gestured with his finger in a circular motion, then stopped mid-sentence, thinking for a moment before immediately starting on his food, and that was the end of it.

The sun was bright overhead, and although it couldn’t have been much later than a few hours into the morning, it was summertime, so it was only going to get warmer. George sat next to the fire, a safe distance away from his insane companion, and absentmindedly watched him. He wondered why he cared so much at all. Dream had been intent on mercilessly murdering George since they had met, and as they had somehow got to know each other throughout their manic chases, it had begun to become less intense.

Dream had stopped chewing and was looking through the smoke at George.

“What’re you staring at me for, it’s creepy.”

“Huh?” George was once again torn from his introspection, taking a second to actually perceive the space around him. Dream was looking at him now with a hint of distrust and a hint of familiarity. Maybe it was just because George had seen those eyes so many times when they were aimed to kill that he was so weirded out, but now they just looked tired.

“Whatever.” Dream dismissed him again.

They were both silent again for a few moments.

“Geoooorge, it hurts.” Dream whined softly. Obviously, he was referring to his leg, which still looked to be bandaged okay, but George was immediately irked by the change of atmosphere, and more so by whatever act Dream was pulling with a babying voice.

“Let me look at it, then,” he started, standing up but avoiding moving near Dream for now, “or I can see if I can find you some pain reliever.”

Dream didn’t respond, he just watched George with cautious eyes as George rummaged through his pack and then again through his kit. Feeling your literal hunter staring holes into the back of your head was not a pleasant vibe at all, and George swallowed harshly to try and get rid of the lump in his throat. Dream’s presence was menacing still, even if he was injured and essentially immobile.

With the pills and salve that he needed, George stepped carefully towards Dream. Dream quickly noticed the caution and made a face somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

“God, you can come over here already.” Dream rubbed at the corners of his eyes, still full of sleep. “I want those painkillers more than I want you.”

What—

“—to kill you! … or, I mean, hurt you.” Dream corrected almost immediately, stumbling over his words in a way George had never heard before. He wasn’t stupid enough to respond to the mistake, though, lest he only aggravates Dream more. Instead, he simply went with:

“Can you lift your leg up? I want to put this sheet down before I unwrap it.”

Dream complied, taking the pills and canteen in hand when George offered and settling his leg back on the ground with a wince.

George was quick, fingers moving almost habitually as he began to unwrap the bloodied bandage. His hands were gentle, and as he very carefully removed the last layer of cloth, he hovered above the stitches for a moment, observing last night’s handiwork in the form of an angry red stripe up the front of Dream’s shin. Dream’s leg was probably throbbing with coursing pain, something unbearable, and George felt a twinge of regret at not approaching him with pain relief sooner. He got his mind back on the matter at hand, and after seeing no broken threads, George donned a glove and tenderly began to apply the anesthetic paste.

Dream would occasionally grunt or wince in pain, but as the application continued, it died down into shallow, but steady breaths. Almost done. George spared a glance up at Dream, who looked more tired than anything, but whose eyes still held a glint of curiosity.

Now, this was far from the first time that they had been in a situation like this—Dream being severely injured and George taking it upon himself and his good graces to fix up his enemy’s wounds. The initial situation had arisen back when Dream was much more murderous and reckless. It was nothing but George for him, and after a moment, George thought Dream might have been obsessed with him. He giggled at the thought, and Dream looked down at him, puzzled. George could see freckles on Dream’s nose when he spared a glance back.

“Do you remember when we met?” George asked. He resumed his application of the numbing agent, and in the corner of his vision, he could see Dream’s resting hand twitch.

“Why are you asking me that like we’re good buddies or something?”

“Because I want to know.”

“Yeah, I kind of remember.” Dream doesn’t elaborate.

George scoffs. “What a thrilling recollection.” He, of course, remembers their first wild chase to the detail; he almost died, like, three times that day. It was also the first time that George had patched up one of Dream’s stupid injuries. If not for him, Dream would probably be dead at this point. He zoned into his treatment, and let his mind wander.

Something in the air was heavy, George could feel it on his shoulders, metaphorically of course. He sat crouched with his back against a slick, damp cave wall, listening with all his might for the hint of a footstep, or anything at all. Maybe he would hear the crack of a twig being stepped on or something just as cheesy, but he didn’t. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears—granted, he was trying as hard as he could to swallow it down—straining to catch any giveaway of his hunter.

His nerves were getting the better of him. The longer George went sitting in this silence, the more he was convinced that it was all fake, that his hunter didn’t exist, that someone didn’t want to kill him for seemingly no reason. He felt bile bubbling in his throat.

He barely had time to review his thoughts before he finally did hear something in the echoing darkness of the cave he was huddled in. Clear footsteps. Confident footsteps. A voice said something. It was George's second time hearing the voice.

"Come out, come out..." the voice cooed, sing-songy, almost carefree. It made George want to throw up from nerves alone.

The footsteps were getting closer to his hiding spot. In the darkness, it was hard to sift through his pack, but George scrambled as calmly as he could (albeit he was anything but calm) to find his flint and steel to make some light. He had dropped his sword when he was approached by the hunter initially, and he needed to get back to the surface If he wanted to find the materials to make a new one.

A ghostly laugh startled George so badly that he dropped one of the small rocks he was holding. It hit the ground, a loud thunk sound echoing throughout the open space, making the hair on George's neck stand on end. There was a beat of silence, and then the next laugh he heard was so... horrible, dripping with sick malice. George didn't even know what this guy wanted with him—well... besides to murder him in cold blood, that had already been made absolutely clear.

Sounds of splashing steps grew quicker and closer, and before long, George could see the firelight of a torch off to the left from where he had entered this branch of the cave system.

The orange glow flickered and expanded, and George slowly slipped his bag back on his shoulders, gripping the scrap of steel so tightly in his left hand he thought it might break skin. It grounded him and calmed his racing heartbeat for a moment, and as George patted the ground carefully to retrieve his flint, the echo of the hunter’s footsteps rang deafeningly in his ears.

At the last possible moment, George showered sparks down onto the wrapped-up pile of dried grass and straw he had created. It was covered in tree sap and only took a moment before it started to burn angrily, pockets of air bubbling and sparking on his makeshift torch.

The sudden light not only of his own torch, but of his hunter’s also, momentarily blinded him, but George didn’t hesitate and ran.

“There you are!” and George could hear the sinister smile lacing the words.

George’s feet pounded against rock and dirt, and he huffed as he tried to weave and turn corners as quickly as possible. While trying to consider losing his attacker and avoiding dead-ends at the same time, it seemed he failed at both, staring at the looming wall of the end of the mineshaft he had scrambled into.

“All pathetic and cornered, what’s your name?” The hunter’s figure approached, his form looming in the dimly lit corridor and shadow creeping along the walls as he let his torch fall to the ground and unsheathed his sword with a defining shhhhiiiiing of metal being exposed.

George scoffed, feigning confidence, but his hands and legs were shaking. “Why would I tell you?”

It was the first time George had responded to his hunter since the chase had begun, and the hunter raised an eyebrow at his voice, looking at him quizzically. It was also the first time George had a chance to see his face, considering every other time they had been that close to each other today wasn’t particularly the time to be curious about facial features.

George felt his stomach drop deeper with every step the hunter took toward him. He was racking his brain for any way to escape his unfortunate situation, but the fear was only settling deeper into his bones as his inevitable death loomed in the form of a tall, darkly-dressed man with floppy hair and a look on his face that told George he was going to die today if he didn’t think of something.

“It’s boring to kill someone nameless, especially because you’re the first I’ve seen in a while.”

George didn’t really see any harm in giving him his name; he might be able to bide more time if he dragged the conversation on.

“George.”

The hunter stopped pacing towards George, only about 4 blocks between them now, and no escape in sight. Before anyone could make a move, George desperately blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“W- what about you, though?”

That slight smirk and eyebrow raise again.

“What about me?” His voice deepened, and he puffed out a short burst of air, in lieu of a scoff or a sigh, George couldn’t tell. He still didn’t move any closer. “You can just call me Dream, but it won’t matter in a little bit, will it, George?”

George didn’t answer; his nerves were getting bad now, causing his knees to buckle, but he thought he might have a plan. It would only work if he had the timing to pull it off, but it was definitely better than letting himself die here. He collapsed to the floor against the mineshaft wall just as Dream took another calculated step forward. He was like a cat, moving slowly, almost stalking carefully towards George, and not letting his guard down until he completely had his prey in his grasp.

George made a fist in the dirt, grains pressing into his palm, and sand sliding between his fingers. It wasn’t much of a handful, but it would hopefully be enough. He waited, tense.

Dream stepped forward again, the space between them even less now, and George was sure he must be within sword range now. He swallowed harshly.

The timing, focus on the timing. George watched intensely for Dream to let his guard down at all. He watched, and he was running out of time to pick a moment, because now the sharp tip of Dream’s sword pressed into the skin near his ankle, mocking, but still eliciting a small yelp of pain as the metal dragged slowly and George started to bleed.

He tried to pull his leg back just a little, but Dream looked elated, staring widely at the wound and the beads of bright red seeping out of the shallow cut. Not only that, but he looked like he was enjoying this a little too much, biting the edge of his bottom lip while his eyes scanned George’s body, and suddenly he felt completely exposed on the cave floor. This guy was definitely some kind of crazy.

Metal pushed deeper into searing flesh, and George whimpered, pain thumping loudly in his ears. Dream’s eyes were wide, and pupils were blown, from as much as George could see, as both their torches on the floor flickered, slowly dying. Long fingers reached slowly out, and Dream’s hand twitched towards the cut he had inflicted. George waited for one— two beats until Dream’s eyes flicked downwards to his leg again, and he pushed back against the wall, throwing his fistful of dirt as hard as he could toward Dream’s face.

It did what it was supposed to, Dream clamped his eyes shut instinctively and flinched, and George wasted absolutely no time getting the hell out of there, launching himself over Dream’s shoulder and snatching up one of the torches on the floor.

George couldn’t hear anything but his own ragged breathing as he ran, tripping over rocks in the low light. He didn’t know if Dream was chasing him still and didn’t turn to check until he finally found the surface, a landscape covered in snow and moonlight. Stumbling out into the cold air, George threw the torch down onto the ground, the snow wasting no time smothering out the flame. His footsteps were slower and weaker now—he was exhausted and out of breath—and as George stepped forward a few more blocks to lean against a spruce trunk, he heard something approach.

His head snapped around almost immediately, shooting a glance at the cave entrance, and his stomach twisted at the sight.

“Oh, Geooorge~” Dream called in a smooth, almost sultry tone, but it wasn’t playful at all to George, it was terrifying. His knees trembled, and his wound dripped crimson into the snow at his feet. He barely had the adrenaline to get out of the cave, much less continue to run from Dream for what seemed like endless hours.

Dream lurked towards his prey, who curled up against a tree in fear, snow crunching under boots, and breath steaming in the frigid atmosphere.

It happened in a split second, Dream stepped forward to close the distance between them, brandishing his sword. George was about to clamp his eyes shut and face the inevitable, but he spied a flash of movement from somewhere behind Dream. The realization hit him all too suddenly, and Dream must have seen it in his face, because he turned just as a loud hiss filled the air and George could only fall backward, shouting “CREEPER—!” as the creature exploded, and the world burst with a short, blinding light and a booming echo.

Both men were hurled backward by the force of the creeper, but Dream was thrown harder, his body slamming against George and then the tree, both ricocheting off and into the snow like rag dolls. As soon as the ringing in his ears died down, George groaned and opened his eyes. Creeper explosions weren’t that broad in range, but they were powerful, enough so that being directly on the receiving end of one could easily kill you. There were splinters of the tree they had been standing by lying scattered on the ground. George cradled his head; he must have smacked it on the tree during the worst of the damage. His breath shook, and he pushed himself up to sit, remembering his situation and hurriedly glancing around to pinpoint Dream.

He was lying off a ways back behind the tree, in a similar trajectory as George, looking tattered and small against the clearing of powdery snow he had disturbed. George should have taken the opportunity to run, left him there, and escaped, but—damn his morals—he staggered towards Dream, feet dragging in the snow.

“Dream.” His name sounded foreign on George’s lips as he jostled unconscious shoulders.

There was a pause, and George thought for a moment that Dream might actually be dead—until he wasn’t, and stirred slightly, groaning awake.

George immediately scooted back, waiting for a reaction or a response. Instead, Dream didn’t move much and just continued to make various sounds of pain, muffled against his sleeve.

“Are you-” this was definitely so weird and so wrong, “are you okay?”

Dream started to try to get up, and George moved further back, ready to book it if he needed to, but he wasn’t going to need to run, because Dream hissed in pain and collapsed back onto the ground. George moved closer again, trying to assess the damage, but Dream was on his side, leaning almost face-down, so George grabbed fistfuls of Dream’s shirt and did his best to flip this giant over with a little bit of effort.

It wasn’t that bad until— wait, oh my god.

George finally noticed the dark stain blooming on the blinding white snow. He felt sore and bruised, probably from Dream smashing into him, with a building headache, but Dream had it quite a bit worse. George could spy several rough scrapes and splintered wooden shrapnel on the side of his torso. He dared a subtle lift of the hem of Dream’s shirt, and though it wasn’t as bad higher up on his body, he was still bleeding quite a lot.

George cursed aloud, again and again, and dug through his pack for a sheet of cloth that he began to set up as a makeshift surface for his tools. He retrieved his kit and started finding what he’d need. Dream had slowly blinked his eyes open and was staring dumbfounded at George.

“Huh?” He simply vocalized, pain numbing his senses, and George’s frustration with himself grew.

“Shut up, or I’ll really just walk away.”

“What—” Dream seemed understandably confused. Not only did he just get the harsh end of a creeper explosion, but he had also, not even half an hour previous, been actively trying to murder George, so why was George working on applying an antiseptic and beginning to pull out pieces of tree from Dream’s middle?

He didn’t know, neither of them could really figure it out, and if Dream still had murderous intent, George couldn’t tell, because Dream had actually listened to his command and fallen quiet, save the occasionally strained whimper of pain.

George moved his right hand to set it on Dream’s bicep and rubbed gentle circles with his thumb just as he had to yank a particularly large and stubborn splinter from just below Dream’s rib cage. Dream yelped and muttered a string of curses, his body jerking involuntarily, and George pressed his hand down hard on Dream’s arm to keep him from shifting too much and making himself bleed more.

When George was finally done, and Dream glossy-eyed and bandaged, he took one more look at his work before he was satisfied and began to put his kit away. Dream mumbled something and grasped at George’s ankle, squeezing hard, and George felt a zap of pain and the warmth of blood on the bandages he had applied.

“Dream, ow- what the fuck?”

Dream kept clawing at George, clearly intending violence, until George backed away, bumping into Dream’s discarded sword, abandoned by the explosion. He stared down at it, and before Dream could gain the energy to sit up too far, George grabbed the sword and left only his spare canteen and some jerky for Dream, before common sense finally returned, and he took the opportunity to scramble away as quickly as one could with an injured ankle.

Dream, of course, would end up finding him again, and occasionally, George would dress wounds, whether of his own stubborn, crazy moral code to not just abandon an injured Dream, or out of some messed up form of revenge and debt collection, he didn’t know.

George secured the clean bandage around Dream’s leg as the embers of the campfire crackled a few blocks away from them. Dream was definitely less murderous now, and honestly, in their bouts of cat and mouse, George was pretty sure that Dream wouldn’t kill him at this point—maybe.

Dream was chewing on his lip, watching George put his things away as the sun had rolled past its peak and the day was waning.

“God, I’m going to have to stay another night with you here, aren’t I?” George griped. Dream looked puzzled again, and George thought how he’d never seen so many emotions on Dream’s face in one day.

“Is that bad?”

George paused, then guffawed with a huff. “Of course, it’s bad, you constantly try to hurt me, and now you don’t have an anesthetic-induced coma so I can guarantee you won’t stab me in the middle of the night.” He trailed off, “Probably.”

Dream’s gaze seemed to falter, and George noted that his poker face was becoming worse as the day went on. Dream’s eyes were filled with some complex emotion that George couldn’t place, and before he could mention it, Dream pivoted his body and laid back on the grass, head pointed toward George.

His eyes were closed, and George just glowered at him.

“Can you,” Dream mumbled after a moment of neither of them speaking, “do that thing again?”

“Huh?” George thought for a minute, and before he had settled on a guess, Dream reached back to grasp at George’s wrist and guide it down near his ear. He rested George’s palm against his temple, leaning into it, and George sighed before tangling his fingers in Dream’s hair.

Dream made a small noise of contentment, a little hum. George found himself thinking it was endearing.

“It still hurts,” Dream said after a while, lips forming into a slight pout.

George could leave right now. He could gather his things and pack up his tent and just walk away. He had done it before. Dream would eventually gain the energy to take a jab at him, and George would flee. Today, though, something was wrong— no, not wrong… different. Dream would take a deep breath and let out an easygoing sigh, and at some point, popped his eyes open to gaze up at George.

“You’re being weird,” George said, and enough concern must have laced his words because Dream chuckled lightly and flopped his arms out to either side, clearly unbothered.

George spied the several white, jagged scars that graced Dream’s clavicle, peeking around the drooping collar of his shirt. He wondered how they got there; George had never had to treat injuries in those spots, and as George’s mind began to drift for the umpteenth time that day, Dream replied to him.

“I’m not being weird. I could get up right now and punch you or something.”

“Well, that would at least be more in character.”

“Fuck you.”

“There’s my Dream.”

George choked on his words, realizing how that sounded, and Dream’s eyes widened, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

“That’s not what I- I didn’t-” George felt hot embarrassment settle over him and burn up his neck and onto his cheeks, as his attempts at explanation only served to make Dream grin wider.

He’d never smiled like that before, or at least George hadn’t seen it this genuine. Both of them fell into silence, with minimal attempts at further conversation for the next few hours, but Dream’s smile stayed plastered on his face, at least in part.

The sun dipped its rays just past the horizon, relaxing down into the earth, and George had already re-lit the fire as the golden light faded. Dream’s features seemed to soak up the sunlight for as long as they could, and as Dream slept, his head adjusted to invade George’s lap, George unabashedly stared at him. He was so used to seeing this face twisted up with anger or animosity that seeing Dream’s chest gently rise and fall and his face press into the side of George’s knee was strange, but for some reason, not unwelcome. George had wanted to be friends in the first place—well, he did after probably the first handful of manhunts—when Dream had become less of a maniac and a little more tolerable.

Summer light buzzed into the night, and as the fire began to die, George nudged Dream to try to wake him; it would get colder if they stayed out here too long. Dream let out a long groan and tried to flip over to his other side, still using George as a pillow, but he must have moved wrong, an extended and pained “aaaaaaaaahhh—” leaving his throat as his body tensed.

George helped Dream get his giant self into the small tent, and Dream wasted no time laying down and smushing his face into George’s side. Dream mumbled something, his voice vibrating into George’s shirt. George shuddered uncontrollably.

“What’s with you? Seriously?” He asked, avoiding taking hold of a positive situation before he had confirmed that it was actually beneficial. “Are you finally done trying to murder me?”

Dream said nothing in response, just huffed.

It took a minute, but eventually, he did reply, “Maybe I’m just tired of it, okay? Not as fun anymore. Shuush.”

George’s eyes widened. He couldn’t quite tell if Dream was being honest there or not, but from the cozy heat that his companion(?) breathed onto him, George’s eyes threatened to lock shut.

The gentle white noise of nature sounded outside as nocturnal creatures awoke and further filled the air with chirps and buzzes. Dream mumbled something against George’s waist, and George finally pushed him away a few inches.

“What are you going on about?” He inquired, exhaustion from yesterday catching up with him yet again.

“-rge.”

“What?” George’s eyes were dangerously heavy, and Dream had curled up as much as someone six-foot could, arms against his chest and body pressed forward against George.

“George,” Dream drawled on sleepily. “—my George.”

George had a good feeling that he’d be alright tonight.

#dear diary...#dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dteam #mcyt #minecraft youtubers #dream team #dnf #dreamnotfound #mc dream #gnf

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sielunroskaa · 1 year

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On one hand, I could call myself bisexual. I fit the description; I like more than one gender. I feel sexual attraction towards men and romantic attraction more towards women. But I feel like I can't call myself bisexual since the bi rep I see is mostly "men are hot. women are hot. I date both." which is valid. But I just don't see myself in it at all.

This idea of a bisexual being somebody who doesn't have strong preferences of one gender over the other(s). Who likes girls and boys 50-50.

When I see people talk about their bi experiences, I rarely actually relate. Exceptions are Nick from the first book of Heartstopper. He has a crisis about having a crush on a boy even though he knows he likes girls. That was me for a long time, only the other way around.

BisexualRealTalk on YouTube has a video "Why bisexuals fall in love differently?" in which I did actually feel like I could fit the bi category.

The most I've actually felt represented was when I finally searched "biromantic heterosexual" on YouTube and watched the couple of videos of people telling their experience with this sexuality.

The first time I saw biromantic heterosexual people without searching for them was on Instagram @/real.polylife.germany. They are a triad: 1 woman, 2 men. The men are not bisexual, they are biromantic. They made a post about "What it means to be a man loving a man when there is no sex?" (or something about that, it was in German).

So in the light of the term bisexual actually including people like me, I still feel the representation is very stark with how a bisexual person is. I feel I don't fit there. I've actually not interacted with the "bi community" but I feel like I wouldn’t be welcome there since I'm too straight. (I recognise that these are only feelings and not based on facts.) But what with the whole biphobia/bi being invisible in the queer community, I've never related to it.

So for the moment I'm identifying as biromantic heterosexual. That is the term I feel most represented by and it explains quickly how I feel.

There are 2 people I've come out to as bi-straight, my best friend and an internet acquintance. I'm still very scared of what other people would say, mostly about the straight part. I do not want to sound like a "snowflake" or take up queer space since I still feel heterosexual.

Even though I know most people are accepting and understanding, I am scared. For that, I don't think I'll come out unless it's necessary. Even though I have the words to describe myself, I'm hesitant to use them. I'll just keep my sexuality vague.

This was kind of a ramble, genuinely thank you if you actually read any of this♡

#biromantic heterosexual #split attraction model #biromantic #biromantism #confusion #heterosexual #queer #bisexuality #bisexual #heterosexual biromantic #bi #bi curious #bicurious #bi-spectrum #call me out if i spread misinformation

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cherokeegal1975 · 9 months

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Thoughts about interest in my audiobook

Though I have managed to attract some attention to my audiobook on YouTube, I find it both gratifying and frustrating. On the one hand, people are clicking on it. On the other, they don’t stay more than half an hour on average and never say a word…except one in a foreign language that translated out to, “This is shit.”

I’m all for honest opinions, but there’s no call to be rude. There was one person who found an earlier posting of this same video and said that they loved it. Told me that he/she kept getting wrapped up in the story and forgetting to do their homework and called it something like a whole movie. I thought that was great, but also wish that they would have given me a more descriptive and in depth reply on what they thought of my story as a whole and what their favorite parts were.

Basically, I just want more feedback and to have people that have the patience to listen to my work from start to finish. Every time someone leaves a comment anywhere about my work, I never forget it and I cherish each one. Even the less than glowing comments because sometimes even those prove useful and helpful. Except for the one that said, "This is shit." I swear I appreciate total honesty and welcome constructive criticism, but please don't be rude.

This whole book is based on an experimental plot I did as a personal writing challenge to see if I could turn a story element that's usually a plot stinker into a good story. If I managed it, then I figured I had a decent talent for writing. I know this one has it's problems, two small but important plot holes that need to be filled and it's in need of professional help with the services of a professional editor, book cover illustrator and professional reader. I can't afford any of these at this time. They all cost a pretty penny and I'm broke most of the time. I'll get on it as soon as I can though, it's one of my life's goals to get my two novels fixed up and selling as I'd like them to.

I'd be over the moon if Netflix took up the projects and made them into anime mini-series, but I'm very sure that won't happen. I am saying that my books will fit in with everything else Netflix has to offer with as much as an unbiased opinion as I possibly can. And I'm very critical of my work. I don't let it hold me back so much as use it to see where there's room for improvement and work on those areas. It's part of what drives me to keep trying to reach my artistic goals, even when it takes me years to get there.

Update: Found the comment on YouTube I mentioned:

#cherokeegal1975 #fantasy #youtube #mpreg #dragon #rat #pet rat #rat companion #mpreg birth #mpreg belly #I need a full and honest critique please #Looking for feedback #No need to just humor me #I want to earn your honest opinions

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the-karasu-no-one-knows · 1 year

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Something about you...

youtube

Perhaps, since it's the new year, I might as well start writing again. I'm not sure how often I'll be doing this, but I'm going to give it a go since so much happened last year (2022). That sweet sea creature and I have formed quite the relationship. A relationship kept in secrecy. A friendship, bound in lust and respect; as well as a fling that is more permanent than not.

Knowing this person for over two years has been nice. It really blossomed back during the spring last year. When the very beginning of summer hit, things escalated to fantasies and sexual cybering. It's funny because I used to do that on a pretty consistent basis from 2000-2003. I met so many people then. It was hectic and I was known to be quite the "chat whore".

I hate using that term because I've never fit that description, as awful as it sounds. Those that knew me were EXTREMELY far and few. Andrew, however; knew that I was not the definition of that word. God I miss him. I think about you all the time Andrew. You were such a pivotal figure in my life way back and you will always have a special place in my heart. I'm so sorry I never picked you up from Durango. I think that if I had picked you up, my life would of ended up so different. Just know that I'm doing well and that I've come such a long way. I miss you and love you still.

As far as my sea creature friend, that attraction is strong. I still have my Sylveon and Kirito and now...there is YOU. I have these moments with you that I savor. These moments, as lustful as they are....I enjoy thoroughly. I know that if I were near to you, I would of already had seduced you in ways that I was known to seduce men with great power. Power financially and power in the roles that they played in government. Roles that I knew very little about but those roles were exceptionally important and wreaked of all things wrong.

I wasn't meant to really know their positions, I was just meant to obtain the information that they had in order to serve the purposes of those that I could give two shits about. I had my job and jobs to do and they never had any intention of showing me gratitude in a healthy and non-harmful way. The better I got at it, the more important of a person I was meant to seduce, fuck and take from.

All the information retained was given out by another alter. I think it's just time to start sharing but with a certain level of anonymity. I think I could tell my friend more and more through these Tumblr posts. I'll send him the links when the time comes. I can't imagine him using any of it against me. There is something about him that allows me and the others to share. Not sure why, but I'm halfway done with life so I might as well enjoy the other half for as long as I have it....right?

The crazy thing is that few nights ago in chat, two chatters (one that I know who's had a crush on me for 2 years now and a new chatter...at least to me) focused a great deal of their attention on me. Osi, being one of them, has had feelings for me for quite some time. He wanted to cyber but I just can't do that with anyone anymore. That was long ago. The other chatter (whom I can't remember his name) was very kind and was complimenting my looks on how I look healthy. He asked me if I had any New Years resolutions ahead of me and I told him I had started a multi vitamin a week or two ago.

He told me that for a 48 year old woman, I look really healthy. He also randomly told me that I look like an incredibly sexy "spy". I told my Sylveon about it and he wondered if it were someone trying to get info out of me or if it was something else that could be deemed as "sinister". I told Sylveon that I didn't feel like it was addressed to me in a manner that would seem provocative. In fact, I actually felt flattered because he wasn't off on his compliment.

I didn't dare mention it to Kirito because he becomes way too clingy and possessive in a way. I think it has to do with his age and a level of uncertainty and insecurity. The last time I mentioned being in chat, it went down VERY poorly. I refuse to mention that I'm in chat again and chatting with old and new chatters. As soon as he would find out, he would go on professing his love for me and expected it in return, which I really don't like doing. I love him but I DO NOT need to profess my love for anyone in a chat room of people I do not fully know.

That drives me a bit crazy about Kirito. That insecurity part can be really annoying. I see that with my sea creature friend's "online" partner. I've seen her express that he's at "the park" and other comments made that he most likely would not appreciate. I see her a bit like Kirito. A level of immaturity that I've never had personally. I've always had a good level of confidence. It was ingrained in me since the age of 3. I was exceptionally strong on and off land. It's how humans like me are created. We are shown that lacking confidence will only cause mistakes to occur on our tasks and assignments.

I look at that last sentence and I feel sick to my stomach, proud and angry. Quite a trio of emotions. I don't even have the proper chemical composition to understand them to their fullest extent. How fortunate it is and was for those needing someone to act without much care or emotion. One completely fixated on getting shit done. I don't hold it against my father. Things were different then and money can buy and create problems and scenarios that Hellywood make out to be "cool" and "hip".

That's one of the things that causes me to feel a great deal of anger. Hellywood making up stupid movies where women who weigh no more than 130 lbs kicking the asses of men who are twice to three times their size in height and weight. It's not 'Atomic Blonde' you silly fucks. Even Andrew knew that. You really did know that...didn't you Andrew? Where are you? I never even got your last name. I wonder if that was intentional? I've always collected the first and last names of those who crossed my paths.

There have only been a few people who's last names I never collected. The latest being my sea creature friend. Even within this blog, I will not utter anything factual about him that would relay a name of any kind or residence that could match my conversations with him. This so called 'Doxxing' is not possible with me because I was meant to not exist, yet the pain with being non-existent is there. Two birth certificates and possibly many others.

All I know is that my first and last name are real. I was allowed to have all that comes with it 17 years ago when that part of my life died....half way. I left that world at 29 but continued to dominate the lives of men who I deemed "only worthy of what I needed" and when those meetings happened, I always got what I wanted and I didn't care about the pain that I caused them because I knew what I wanted and they had less than ten minutes to give it to me.

I left faster than they could of even spelled the word "what? That one postal worker [John] tried very hard to get me to linger for either breakfast or dinner. I would call him at 4 am in the morning, demanding he be prepared for me to come over for a sexual encounter. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. He was reliable all the time. The others before him were fairly cheap if I had to put a cost to them. One of them actually tried to persuade me to not allow him to use a condom.

I told him that he had 5 minutes to figure out that either he capped it or I would be gone before the 4th minute came and went. Of course he put it on and continued to drip sweat all over me because he could not achieve his orgasm in a timely manner. I gave him a few minutes and then he finally had his moment. The only thing that was worthy of that night being mentioned was that he had an awesome German Shepard that I loved petting and giving kisses to.

What a simpleton.

I very well could of killed Alex. Then again, I've never had to worry about what happens to my clients. mentally and physically. The relationships that were in my fathers life took care of all of that. I should of saved the environment and ended him. What a waste of space that kid was. Bleh. To think I saw his face on the local news a year after and I showed him to my Sylveon.

This is where I am meant to be. This is the world I live in. A world that I worked hard at living and maintaining to the best of my ability. A life that seems fairly normal. A pretty normal civilian life. I completely went off tangent here. As one can see....I lose my train of thought due to wanting to say so much but feeling like I have very little time to convey it.

Don't worry my little sea creature friend. I'll share more with you and focus on you a bit more next time.

#Youtube

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myloversgone · 2 years

Text

Let Me Change Your Mind

Pairing: Dean x Y/N; Dean x You; Dean x female!reader

Warnings: +18. Lots of sex. Unprotected sex (be smart, this is fiction); P in V; oral sex (male and female receiving). Dirty talk. Dean being the hottest motherfucker on Earth (this is a real warning). Pure filth. There’s barely a plot, I really should be ashamed of myself.

Summary: Dean thinks shower sex is complicated and dangerous. Can you change his mind about it?

This takes place during season 8, around the time the Winchesters found the MoL bunker, but it doesn’t exactly follow the show’s storyline.

A/N: This is my entry for the lovely @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone Make-Me-Horny challenge. I hope I was able to accomplish that 😁 Unfortunately, tumblr is stupid and I can’t post the hot AF gif she sent me to inspire this fic, unless I wanna be flagged, so if you want to see it, just send me a message and I’ll send it to you. I did my best to describe it, though (the description is highlighted in the story).

I wanted to post this work sooner, but life has been kicking my ass lately and, to make it worse, I’ve been sick for the last two days.🤢 So, please, if this sucks too much, you can blame my stomach bug.

I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback is highly appreciated! Thanks for reading!

"Come on, Dean, you said we could try anything."

"I know what I said, sweetheart, but shower sex is complicated."

"Well, apparently I'm gonna have to take your word for it, 'cause it doesn't seem like I'll be trying it any time soon!"

You were really pissed off. For the last 30 minutes, you've been trying to convince Dean to have sex with you in the shower. But, to your surprise, he vehemently stated he didn't want to, saying it was complicated and even dangerous.

Since your boyfriend found out how boring your sex life was before him, you both agreed you should try some different things every once in a while. Dean had already shown you so many good - and very, very naughty - things you didn't even know existed, so you thought his idea was great.

Lately, you’ve been wanting to try shower sex, and you were adamant about convincing him to do it.

"Baby, don't be mad", Dean pleaded when you got up from his lap and turned your back to him, ready to leave the small motel room where you found yourselves in while working on a case.

"I'm not mad. Just frustrated", you explained, pouting and turning to look at him. "I've been picturing us doing it and I think it would be great". You bit your lower lip, looking up at Dean from under your lashes, knowing very well how much it drove him crazy. He couldn't deny you anything when you made that face.

"Y/N", he said your name as a warning. "We can't do it here or in any other motel we’ve ever been to. It's too dangerous, believe me. Those tiles are slippery and there's nowhere to hold, one of us will end up hurt, maybe both of us". Dean explained, walking to you and placing his hands on each side of your waist, bringing your body close to his.

"But", you tried again "we’ve already showered together more than once, and we never got hurt". You knew you were whining like a child and being a pain in the ass, but shower sex has been your most recent fantasy. You wanted it badly.

And you were telling the truth. You and Dean had showered together many times, and what sometimes started as just an innocent shower after a particularly gruesome hunt, always ended up in heavy make out sessions, but it never got to the “main attraction” because of Dean’s caution, which was part of the reason you wanted it so much. Plus, just the thought of holding onto his massive shoulders, his skin glistening with the drops of water while he thoroughly fucks you under the shower, is enough to make your lady parts clench.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll find a place safe enough so we don’t end up with a broken leg”, Dean winked at you, pulling you back from your daydream and kissing you, one of his hands travelling from your waist to your ass, squeezing a buttcheek.

You kissed him back, your tongue invading his mouth to taste him. “I hope you’re right. Plus, it’s your loss, you know. Sam said he’s gonna be out for at least two hours until he can find the witness. We could use the time to have fun”, you bit his lower lip, using your tongue to soothe the bite while pressing your crotch against Dean’s body.

“You’re a naughty girl, teasing me like that”. It was his turn to kiss you, sucking on your upper lip. Holding the back of your head, he pulled you closer, owning you, making you gasp. It was his promise you wouldn’t have to wait until you could find a “safe shower” to have great sex.

—--------------------------------------------------

Two weeks later

“I think we’ve found the Bat Cave”, said Dean while looking at the thousands of books available in the Men of Letters’ bunker library.

None of you would’ve guessed the place would be so intact when Henry Winchester told you about the bunker. Still, it was surprisingly inhabitable. In fact, it had everything you needed.

The three of you started to look around and, as Sam and Dean opened doors, switching the lights on and getting increasingly impressed with the place, you went to the kitchen, quickly assessing the room and thinking you’ve finally found a place where you could cook a decent meal for a change.

Proceeding to explore the other rooms, you passed through the bedroom Dean chose to be yours and his and continued down the hall. Opening the last door to your left, you felt like your jaw had hit the floor.

You found yourself in a huge bathroom. It had black and white tiles covering the walls, two sinks with large mirrors right above them, a bathtub, and, the most important thing: two shower spaces with benches attached to the walls. Big benches that could definitely fit two people sitting side by side and even a person lying down comfortably. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Dean, get your ass over here! I wanna show you something!”, you yelled from the door, practically jumping in excitement.

You heard Dean’s footsteps quickly approaching. “What’s up, sweetheart?” He stopped beside you, voice dying and eyes widening when he realized what he was looking at.

“I guess we’ll have to test the hot water, huh? See if it lasts as long as we need it to”, you grinned, patting Dean’s chest and leaving him open mouthed.

Sadly, as the events unfolded, new hunts stopped you and Dean from enjoying the bunker, its bathroom especially.

A week later, your boyfriend finally returned from a hunt he and his brother went to. On their way home, Sam took a detour and went to help Garth, which meant you and Dean were alone, with the bunker all to yourselves.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Dean called from the top of the stairs, closing the door behind him.

“Hi, baby. How was the hunt?”, you put aside the book you were reading to go meet him in the middle of the room, standing on your tiptoes to give him a welcome kiss.

“It was ok, a simple salt and burn, but we had to dig like three graves. I need a shower ASAP. How about you join me?”, Dean offered, giving you a naughty smirk.

You felt your stomach tighten in excitement. Finally. You’ve been away from Dean for too long, you missed him already. “Sure.You can go ahead and I’ll be with you in a minute”. You kissed him again, quickly nibbling his lower lip. Dean went in the direction of the hallway while you put the books back on their shelves and proceeded to your bedroom, where you undressed completely and wrapped yourself in your boyfriend’s Dead Guy Robe. You ran your hands through your hair, tidying the strands. You knew Dean wouldn’t mind if it was a mess, but you wanted to be pretty for him. After all, you promised to change his mind about shower sex, and you intended to do just that.

As you left the bedroom and approached the bathroom door, you could hear the shower running. Your heart started to beat faster. It didn’t matter that you’ve been dating Dean for almost a year; you still got excited with the perspective of having sex with him. He always took good care of you, always put your needs first. He truly is amazing.

You opened the door to find Dean in the first shower stall. His back was turned to you and his arms were up; he was washing his hair. You closed the door and stopped for a moment to admire him. His arms were bulging with the movement he was making to spread the shampoo on his hair. Even from a distance, you could see the muscles on his back move under his flawless, freckled skin. Your gaze went down his spine, focusing on the dimples on his lower back and then on his ass. His perfect, muscled, rounded ass. It was one of those moments when you could barely believe a man as beautiful as Dean could even exist.

Already feeling your pelvic muscles clenching, you called his name, since he didn’t seem to notice your arrival. “Hey, Dean”.

He turned around to look at you. You couldn’t help but stare between his strong legs, seeing his cock semi erect, his substantial size catching your attention. Dean’s body reacted quickly to you, it always did, which was very flattering and just one more reason for you to be head over heels for him.

“Hi, baby girl. Is that my robe?”, he asked, his gaze taking in your entire body.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’m taking it off now”, you explained while doing just that, exposing yourself completely to him.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous”, Dean bit his lower lip, his eyes fixed on you as you approached the stall, putting a little swing on your hips just to keep your boyfriend interested.

Standing under the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you as you placed your arms around Dean’s neck and touched his body with yours. You felt your nipples harden as they touched his skin. He leaned down to kiss you sensuously, his lips parting yours as his tongue entered your mouth. Holding you close, one of his hands was supporting your lower back as the other ran up from your hip to the side of your breast, caressing the delicate skin.

Reaching between your bodies, you closed your hand around his cock. The contact was enough to make it fully erect for you, and Dean groaned, his face buried in your neck, kissing and sucking the skin. When he removed his hand from your breast and started to run it down your body, reaching the folds between your legs, you let go of him, making him stop.

"Today is about you, baby. Just sit down and relax", you told Dean while pushing him to sit on the bench attached to the shower wall.

He kept looking at you, admiring your body as he walked backwards until the back of his knees hit the bench. He sat and you kneeled in front of him, between his muscular bowed legs.

"Whatcha gonna do, huh, baby girl?", he asked, voice deep with lust.

You took him in your hand again, massaging his length up and down and watching the wide tip get redder, precum already leaking from it.

Looking at Dean from under your lashes, you leaned forward and kissed the head of his cock, making him hiss with the warm feeling of your lips. Then you hollowed your cheeks and did your best to take him inside your mouth. He was too big, so taking ⅔ of him was all you could do. His length was already down your throat, and you swallowed around him as much as you could. He moaned loudly, leaning his head against the wall behind him and reaching for your wet hair.

"Fuck Y/N, you look so good with my cock in your mouth", he praised while you sucked and bobbed your head up and down, letting him hit the back of your throat every time. You hummed, sending shocks of pleasure through his member. You grabbed his thighs to steady yourself, feeling the warmth of his skin.

You kept sucking and ended up letting him fuck your mouth, holding your hair in a ponytail and guiding you, until he told you he couldn't take it anymore. "I wanna come in your pussy, baby girl, come here. Sit on my lap".

Giving one last wet kiss on the slit of his beautiful cock, you gladly got up. Your knees were starting to hurt.

Grabbing his thick length covered with your spit, you positioned it in your entrance, spreading your legs to take him easier. You were very wet, not only from the water, but because sucking Dean's dick turned you on every time. Rubbing the head on your folds, you took him inside you, lowering yourself on his cock, feeling every delicious inch penetrating you.

"Oh, God, Dean", you whined when you finally took all of him, his pubic hair tickling you. Dean looked down to where you were joined, finding it hot to watch his cock being completely swallowed by your pussy.

You started lifting your hips, bouncing up and down on his lap, the back of your thighs hitting the front of his with a slapping sound increased by the water pouring over both of your bodies. You held onto the nape of his neck, your mouth forming an O with how deep he was hitting you.

Placing both palms into each side of his body for leverage, Dean started to lift his hips from the bench, meeting you halfway. The movement enhanced the muscles of his arms, his biceps bulging. He couldn't take his eyes off of your face, entranced by the absolute pleasure on your features. You weren't able to form words, knowing soon you would be tired of bouncing like that, but enjoying it immensely. It didn't bother you to be making most of the effort this time; Dean was always the one to do everything his powerful body allowed him to bring you pleasure. Now, it was your turn.

"Is that good, baby?", you asked him, panting.

"God, yes. You're perfect, Y/N", he grinned, tilting his head up to kiss you. His warm tongue slipped inside your open mouth, tasting you and deepening the kiss. You moaned with the feeling and Dean gave a particularly hard thrust, hitting just the right place.

"F-fuck, Dean", you lost your rhythm, feeling your legs getting tired with the up and down movement, so you fully sat on his lap, stopping for a while.

With Dean buried inside you to the root, you started grinding on his lap without moving up, just using your hips and the muscles on your lower belly to squeeze him, keeping him as deep as you could.

“Jesus, fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing around me”. Dean had to close his eyes; he was afraid he was gonna come before you if he kept looking at your beautiful body, at the movements of your hips, your tits bouncing as you rode him. “Keep riding me, sweetheart. I love when you do that”, he pleaded, gritting his teeth to keep control.

“You’re so deep inside me, Dean. I’m gonna come with you there, ok, honey? You’re just in the right place”. You knew Dean loved when you were vocal during sex, being it dirty talk or not. He was always amazing, knowing exactly where to touch you and sometimes knowing your body better than yourself, so you didn’t have to guide him through what made you feel good. Still, since you started dating, he freed you of your inhibitions, encouraging you to be as loud and talkative as you wanted.

“Yeah, come for me, baby. Come on my cock, c’mon”. He pulled you closer, kissing and biting your shoulder, which was enough to turn you into mush. You came hard, the pleasure scattering through your body as a fire while you moaned and called Dean’s name like a pornstar. Except you weren’t faking it.

The noises you were making and the sight of your body shaking in pleasure did it for Dean. He came too, hot and hard, throbbing inside you as you felt him filling you with his seed. Breathing hard, you two remained enlaced, your legs and arms wrapped around Dean’s body as you kissed, enjoying the aftershocks of your orgasms.

A few minutes later, when your breathing returned to normal, you leaned away from Dean, intending to move, but he seemed to have a different plan.

"You hard again?", you asked in awe. You could feel him hardening and lengthening inside you, your slick walls once more stretching to accommodate him.

Dean didn’t even bother answering. He just held your legs firmly and got up, turning around so your back was against the wall and he could start thrusting. "Gonna make you cum again, baby girl", he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking while you held on to him, his biceps slippery from the water.

A dozen thrusts later, he throbbed inside you, burying himself deep and definitely leaving bruises on your hips where he held you. You would wear his marks proudly. Dean's cum filled you once more, and he pulled his cock off of you to gently lay you on the bench, holding your spread legs and using his thumb and index finger to open you and watch his seed leaking out of you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking hot", he said, kissing your still sensitive pussy and then sucking your clit, making you whimper. You were 100% sure you would be soaked in sweat if it weren't for the shower. You felt hot all over, your body tingling and still recovering from your last orgasm.

“Gosh, Dean, that’s so fucking good”, you praised breathlessly. Your hand reached for his head and you used your nails to scratch his scalp, giving him the perfect opportunity to bury his tongue inside you, making you arch your back and moan loud.

He felt amazing, soothing the soreness between your legs while guiding you through your third orgasm. You obviously didn’t last long, and Dean cleaned you of your juices, drinking every drop you had to give.

You were so spent you didn’t feel like moving. Getting up, Dean kissed you, long and passionately. With your eyes closed, you heard him turning the shower off and opening the towel closet.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed”. He wrapped you in a big towel and carried you, bridal style, to your bedroom, where he dried your hair and dressed you back in his robe.

You felt tired in the best way, laying on your side on the big bed, facing your hot boyfriend. “Dean, that was so amazing. Thank you”, you said, pulling his face towards yours to give him a quick kiss.

He chuckled, kissing you back. “I think I should be the one thanking you, Y/N/N. You really did change my mind”.

“Yeah? What do you think about shower sex now?”, you asked, teasing him.

“I think it’s awesome!”.

THE END

—————————————

If you came this far, thank you for sticking up with me! I don’t have a tag list yet, but I’m gonna tag some lovely people who always support me with their likes, reblogs and comments. Please, if you don’t want to be tagged on future posts, just let me know, no worries! Or, if you weren’t tagged but want to be, you can message me too 😉

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior , @avanatural, @charred-angelwings, @itsthemegacoven , @eevvvaa , @ejlovespie

#audswritingchallenge #makemehornychallenge #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 years

Note

Heyo I love your blog.

I was wondering if you could recommend your fave AU fics. You always know the best ones. Any Stiles Ships if possible, bonus points if it's Sterek/Steter/Stargent or Stetopher.

Thanks x

Yeah! I worked really hard re-reading my fav fics just for you. Enjoy.

Sideways and Slantways and Longways and Backways by hologramophone

(1/1 I 7,799 I Teen I Sterek)

“I called you a slave-driver!” Stiles cried hysterically. “I called you an ogre! I stole all the blue paperclips!” Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s company property!” he shouted, waving his arms madly in distress. Derek ran a hand over his face. “It’s not theft if the vice president of the company gives you permission.” (Otherwise known as the Elevator AU)

cool story, bro by drunktuesdays

(1/1 I 13,087 I Explicit I Sterek)

“FUUUUUUCK, is it a sweet valley high situation where Stiles is very aware that his twin is way more attractive and confident than he is, EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE IDENTICAL, and he always ends up with the hotter significant others and more friends and Stiles guesses that's why he's attracted to the pack at first, because it's something that's just his, not his twin's too. But of course, Stiles's twin gets bit and now he's part of Derek's pack, and Derek doesn't snap at him like he snaps at Stiles, never slams him into things, fucking FIGURES, STILES'S TWIN GETS EVERYTHIIIIIIIING.”

Darling It Is No Joke by thehoyden

(1/1 I 13,250 I Explicit I Sterek)

The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it’s not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper.

Bones Straining Under the Weight by weathervaanes

(1/1 I 15,645 I Explicit I Sterek)

One of Stiles' favorite things about life is Derek Hale's food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person.

“Derek,” he says again, and the name feels very strange on his tongue. “You don’t mean Derek Hale.”

His professor’s eyebrows reach up, eyes widening. “You read his blog?”

"Uh. Worship. Would be a better more descriptive word. That is Derek Hale?"

Jimmy chuckles. "Good-looking guy, huh?"

"You mean to tell me the Food Network hasn't snatched him up to dethrone everyone else from daytime TV."

Jimmy smiles a small private smile. "I don't think TV is his medium."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Shy?"

The man laughs heartily at that. "No, I wouldn't say that. He just has particular forms of expression, like eyebrows and chili powder."

Fireman Derek's Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by owlpostagain

(1/1 I 17,698 I Teen I Sterek)

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.

"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. "Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

Binomial Coefficients by DevilDoll

(1/1 I 20,783 I Teen I Sterek)

In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

(1/1 I 35,197 I Teen I Sterek)

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”   

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.   

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:   

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Cornerstone by Vendelin

(6/6 I 83,738 I Explicit I Sterek)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Gravity's Got Nothing on You by zosofi

(11/11 I 83,979 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #anastasia review #magic!stiles #fake/pretend relationship #twin!stiles

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rainbowsky · 2 years

Note

I don't know if you've already talked about this here but as I'm new to the fandom I'll send this message anyway. What do you think about the Japan theory? it seems real to me, all the pieces fit together, but I also see people who don't agree with the theory claiming that it doesn't make sense... What do you think? I like the way you think and it would be nice to see you talking about it haha, if you have already talked about this theory you can attach your opinion in my message and I would appreciate it.

Thanks for your kind words, Anon, glad you're enjoying my blog!

I haven't done a post specifically about the Japan trip before, I don't think, so let's put on our 🤡 wigs, shall we?

Standard disclaimer:

This is all total fan fiction and CPN. No one really knows what happened, and all theories are just speculation. It can be fun to explore all theories and get a variety of perspectives, and I encourage you to explore all of them. Don't take what I say too seriously, it's just my own thoughts; no more or less valid than anyone else's.

For those who aren't aware what "the Japan trip" is referring to, the most comprehensive breakdown of that CPN can be found here. There's also a very detailed breakdown of the Weibo posts referencing their names here. I'm not going to go into any of the descriptions or background here, so if you're unfamiliar then I'd recommend reading those posts first.

My favorite thing about GG in Japan is all the amazing photos he takes when he is there. Some of my absolute favorite photos of him of all time. Here's a Twitter thread where most of them can be found.

My CPN

I can't say I have any particular 'set in stone' view on this trip, or even on the timeline of their relationship. I go back and forth a fair bit in my mind about it all. Sometimes I like the theory that they built their relationship up during filming - basically what's outlined in my timeline - and other times I feel like they were probably together long before filming started.

Character bleed

One thing I personally don't connect with is the theory that GG wasn't sure whether his feelings were for DD or for LWJ, and so he needed a break to sort it all out and be clear about which one he loved before moving forward with DD. The idea that GG experienced that degree of character bleed just doesn't resonate with me. I talked about that in a bit more detail in this post.

Ultimately I think it's far more likely that GG used his feelings for DD to help him get into character, than the other way around (finding that his character's feelings for LWJ drew him to falling for DD). GG is an expert at tapping into emotions. He was sobbing and in tears during table reads for the Untamed. I think his attraction for - and perhaps even love for - DD probably made it a lot easier for him to connect with WWX and his love for LWJ.

I talk about it all in more detail in the post I linked.

So anyway, character bleed is something GG clearly experienced, but I suspect it was probably more about WWX and all the torment he went through than it was about his feelings for DD.

One thing is certain: He really got attached to WWX. He said so many, many times in interviews and also in his Weibo post about WWX. He really connected with the character and went through a fairly intense process of moving on from the role.

So much to let go of...

My CPN on that is that the attachment is not just about WWX, it's about the entire summer, the experience of filming with that special group of people, having all that time filming a romantic role with DD, being able to spend so much time together, and - for me I think one of the most important things - getting to play a queer role, possibly the only queer role he'll ever get to play in his entire career.

If we believe GG is queer - and if we believe he's in a relationship with DD then we have to accept that GG is queer - then we must also understand that there are a lot of feelings/experiences that come with being queer in a world that is often hostile to queerness.

We must consider the likelihood that the role held a special place in his heart, in part because it was a queer role. We must consider that the experience of filming that summer might have been special for him, in part because he was spending so much time in what comes across to me as a fairly openly queer-friendly environment.

Around people who clearly were onboard with intentionally telling a queer story of romance, who had the intent to get that story across in whatever way they could, and champion that story even though there was so much uncertainty about whether it would air, and how much of their hard work would get cut out during censorship reviews.

This has to be a fairly rare experience on a filming set in China. To be surrounded by people who are supportive of queer stories and queer identities, who are open to and championing of love between two men. Who were fine with GG and DD being so flirtatious and sweet with each other, lewd with each other, etc. so openly on set.

I can imagine that walking away from an experience like that - and going back out into the big world where things were decidedly not like that - it had to be so difficult. It might have felt like walking out of a supportive environment where he could be himself and be free, to having to cram himself back into the closet and go back to heavily heteronormative reality.

So GG would have been letting go of a lot of things, sorting through a lot of emotions.

The character he had grown so connected to, and all the intense emotional experiences WWX went through - which GG had to go through as well in order to play that character

The supportive queer-friendly environment

Being able to spend so much time with DD and be openly close and friendly/flirty with him

The surely incredibly special experience of getting to work with DD on a project

All the daily routines that he'd likely become accustomed to during filming

Re-configuring his mind to return to heteronormative reality after experiencing something so unique and meaningful

I think if I was in GG's place, I would have felt utterly bereft to be leaving such a world and going back to reality. He talked about 'waking up from a dream', and that makes a lot of sense to me. That entire summer must have felt like a dream. In many ways, one that most people wouldn't feel great about waking up from.

Coming back down to earth

I don't think we know for sure whether the trip was taken explicitly to help him get away from it all and readjust to 'real life' again, but it would definitely have helped in that respect. Spending time with friends, doing 'regular' things, would have helped to soften the landing when coming back down to earth. Especially if those friends know and accept him for who he is. I imagine I'd need something like that right about then.

After all, he would have to deal with a variety of issues moving forward. His next projects, promo for the Untamed, management issues, his career direction... The time he had carved out to work on the Untamed - and to live in that dream - had lapsed, and now he would have to go back to all of ... that stuff.

So I think the trip would have been an excellent opportunity for him to decompress and readjust after such an intense experience.

What about their relationship?

When it comes to their relationship, I have a couple of different perspectives, depending on whether they built up their relationship from a flirty friendship during the course of filming (such as aligns with my timeline post), or whether they'd been together for quite a while before filming.

If they built things up during filming

If they had just built up their relationship through the course of filming, then I think it's likely GG needed to sort out in his mind where he wanted things to go from there.

Not because of any confusion about character bleed, but rather because it's one thing to have a relationship with someone when you're 'in a dream' and free to spend a lot of time together and be yourselves, and it's another thing to try to maintain that over longer distances and in a completely different setting.

I highly doubt he ever seriously considered a breakup. I believe he already knew he was in love with DD (that much seems clear from what we saw of the BTS). He probably just needed to think over what he wanted to do about it.

And by, "what he wanted to do about it" I mean, how far does he want to go with things? Does he want to continue dating, try to be casual and secretive about it, or does he want to commit more seriously, come out to close family and bring DD into his life in a deeper way?

I think if that timeline is correct, then the answer to that self-reflection GG might have done is pretty clear. He seems to have decided to take things deeper with DD, and make him a more central part of his life.

If they were already together

It's also possible they were already seriously involved before they started filming. There are many signs that's possible, which I won't get into here, but if you're familiar with the Devil's Timeline stuff, you'll know some of what I'm talking about.

They also behaved at the booting ceremony and in some of the earlier few hours of filming, a bit like strangers (this dissolved rapidly and that's part of why I think it might have been a ruse on their part), in ways that are reminiscent of their behavior at the infamous Weibo night. Because we have that behavior from Weibo night and also from the Produce 101 taping, it's easy to compare those events to the Untamed booting ceremony, table read and early filming and see some possible similarities.

If you really want to go galaxy clown brain on it, you can even compare their behavior during the XNINE Day Day Up episode in 2017 to some of that, and see glimpses of the possibility they were faking a lack of familiarity even as far back as then.

EDIT: More on all that in my Devil's Timeline post.

And if that timeline is correct, then I think the Japan trip takes on an entirely different meaning than what I outlined above.

If that timeline is correct, then the trip was probably nothing more than GG decompressing from the filming, processing everything that happened - maybe even processing how that experience changed or deepened his relationship with DD - and preparing for the next steps/stages in his career.

He would likely have also been coming to terms with going back to the closet after being free to show and be more of himself, more openly during filming. It's even possible he thought a lot about whether going back into the closet was even possible after the freedom he'd experienced. It's possible he might have even considered coming out (however hypothetical it might have been in his mind).

As far as DD is concerned, in this timeline I doubt there was much GG really needed to ponder. DD was probably still there with him in the background, supporting him through that trip/process by being a steady, loving presence even from a distance. Which I'm certain DD excels at. He's just that kind of guy.

I think that regardless of which timeline is correct, and regardless of what GG was reflecting on during the course of the trip, he would have undoubtedly needed to separate himself from WWX mentally and emotionally. He would have needed to reflect on what direction he wanted his life/career to take moving forward. And he almost certainly needed to come to terms with going back into a more closeted reality.

I really believe that summer had that big of an impact on him.

And as I said in the notes for this post:

I really believe that summer likely influenced their apparent decision to make their relationship an open secret, and not really be in the closet at all in the backstage world of entertainment. I think it became something they didn't want to compromise on.

Things that I really don't buy into at all:

That GG dumped DD before he left for the trip

That GG changed his phone number or cut off communication with DD, and DD nagged everyone for his new contact info

That GG ever seriously considered ending things with DD

It's of course, impossible to really know what happened, but that pretty much covers most of my thoughts on the trip.

Like I said, there are a lot of different theories and perspectives. No one is right or wrong about anything. We cannot know the facts of what happened. We should all feel free to explore our own thoughts on all of this and come to our own CPN conclusions.

The "I Miss You" hat

One thing I forgot to mention is that DD wore his "I Miss You" cap every day while GG was away in Japan, and then stopped wearing it when GG returned from his trip. There's a Twitter thread about it here.

Some fans view that as evidence that they had broken up while GG was away, but I disagree. It hadn't been long since they'd finished filming, and of course DD would be missing GG after they'd spent so much time together.

That's something I didn't get into in this post, because it's about GG's Japan trip, but a lot of the experiences GG might have been having - which I listed above - would have been similar for DD. He would have been going through the same sense of loss on many fronts. No longer being in such a queer friendly environment. No longer being able to spend as much time with GG. Etc. etc.

That's the context in which I view the hat, but everyone is free to find their own CPN on all of this.

#bjyx #yizhan #timeline #GGDD forever #the mysteries of yizhan #🤡 🚙

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pennylanewrites · 3 years

Text

＊Smile＊

minors dni!

description: Armin Arlert loves sweet, innocent things, especially when he can ruin them with his very own sickening sweetness.

pairings: Armin Arlert x gn! reader

word count: 2.4k

contains: smut duh, modern au, private college richboy armin, mild obsession with reader, oral (male receiving), use of the word ‘whore’, like one slap, unprotected sex (nothing spills inside dw), lowkey manipulation (what else y’all expected from armin?)

!!reader is afab(assigned female at birth), gender neutral and of legal age (around their 2nd year of college)!!

)^o^(

Whatever Armin Arlert wanted, Armin Arlert got. Cars, VIP seats, answers to exams, anything you can imagine. Being one of the most well-respected alumni of Paradis Institute's only son definitely had its advantages.

Girls and boys begged for a chance to be noticed by Armin Arlert, who wore his Prefect pin proudly and monitored the halls with his head high, but to no avail. Armin had long forgotten about sex, he found it appalling and unnecessary, unless it was with you.

You, who walked with your head high just like him. You, who would talk with classmates and wonder why they sprinted away as soon as the Prefect turned a corner. You, who could swear you heard a few camera clicks every time you used the communal showers. You, who despite being beautiful and charming, could not get a significant other for the life of you. Yes, your classmate, Armin had made sure the only person available to you would be himself; the handsome, smart and rich Prefect.

"Can I help you, Arlert?" Were the only words you spoke to him when he entered the science lab you were trying to work in.

"Am I bothering you, ___ ? I can leave." You took one look at his big, ocean blue eyes and sighed, taking your glasses off.

"No, sorry."

"Rough day? I'm sure it's nothing a massage can't solve." He offered, walking around the table you were working on and immediately placing his hands on your stiff shoulders. You shrugged them off quickly and faced the other way.

"Are you sure you don't want a massage from the person paying for your scholarship?" He whispered in a low voice, which would be very attractive if you weren't intimidated by him. You gulped and nodded, allowing him to happily massage your shoulders and upper back.

"I heard you're having a hard time with the new lecture."

"I-I do." You tried withholding a pleased sigh. The massage was definitely working.

"Be at my dorm around seven. I'll help you with it, ___." Armin left with a polite smile and bow of his head, leaving you to wonder how he looked so sweet yet acted so bitter.

At seven sharp, you stood outside of Armin Arlert's dormitory, patting your hair down, fixing your shirt underneath your uniform pants and looking around nervously. With a deep breath, you finally knocked on the wooden door, which was opened almost immediately.

"Come in, ___!" Armin's face lit up the moment he saw you and he stepped away for you to enter his room. A kitchenette, a double bed, a desk and a bookcase filled all the space, just like every other dorm on campus. And as you set your books on the desk, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of tiles, running water and a nude person as the lock screen on his laptop, which he was quick to close before you took another look.

"Would you like a coffee, ___?"

"Yes, please."

It was getting past ten and your head could barely stand up on its own. You leaned back on the chair and stretched your arms out, yawning into one of them. Armin noticed and closed your book, his hand lingering on it.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" ,he exclaimed and opened a drawer, "I have some flash cards for you!"

"Oh, it's not necessa–"

"I insist." He said firmly and looked through some neatly filed papers. Once again, your eye caught a few pictures of someone's back profile and you could swear they had the same lower back tattoo as you. You, however, dismissed it once again. Boys tend to have pictures of pornstars, right?

Flipping through the flash cards, a picture fell out and Armin rushed to pick it up before you could. This time, however, it was loud and clear that the person in those photos was you taking a shower. At the time, you didn't know that all those pictures were set up on purpose. For you to see and become vulnerable in front of Armin Arlert.

"Armin, what's that?" Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper instead of the clear and stern tone you were planning on.

"Just something I'm planning on posting on the college's site tonight." He grinned.

"Wh-what? Why would you–"

"I don't know, ___. You tell me." He leaned closer to you, holding his weight on the arms of your chair. His blond hair fell over his eyes, making it the perfect shade of dark blue under the shadows.

"I have to go." You said sheepishly and started picking your books up, but an arm around your waist stopped you.

"Why do you keep on resisting me, ___?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I want you. And you want me too, right?"

You were confused. Heartbroken. You always thought of Armin as nothing else than your classmate. So, what was this sudden urge to lock your lips with his?

Looking up, you were met with a dark look in his eyes and a grin that seemed almost evil. You knew deep down he had dark intentions, but at the same time, you needed to know what those intentions were.

“I’ve never seen you wearing a skirt or a dress...you always act so modest, but the way you touch yourself so desperately in the shower...” his hand ghosted over your clothed thigh and stopped at your hip, “you just want to get fucked like a whore, right?”

“A-Armin...”

“Why don’t you put a little show for me? Undress yourself.” He sat on his chair and opened his legs, shamelessly showing off the tent in his uniform pants.

With a blush decorating your cheeks and a trembling bottom lip at the embarrassment suddenly hitting you, you slowly unbuttoned your white dress shirt and let it drop on the floor. Kicking the Oxford shoes your school required off, your hands made way to the side zipper on your pants. This time, your eyes locked with Armin’s as your pants dropped on the floor next to your shirt.

“Those too, doll.” He ordered, referring to your underwear. His demanding tone went straight between your legs, which you rubbed together in an attempt for some friction. You quickly unclasped your bra and removed your underwear, but before you could do anything else, Armin extended his arm and pulled you closer to him. With his arms around your waist, his forehead came in contact with your lower stomach, taking in the sight before his eyes with a deep breath.

“On your knees.”

You did as he said and watched his hands, decorated with a few gold rings and a bracelet, unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Pushing his boxers down slightly, his member spurted out and hit his lower abdominals. Chuckling at your wide eyes, he led your hand to his cock.

“Consider this a thanks for your scholarship.” He leaned back on the chair, one hand behind his head and the other gripping your hair. You nodded and brought your mouth closer, licking on the tip that dripped with precum. As one of your hands massaged his balls and your mouth started taking more of his length in, a few groans escaped Armin’s lips and the grip on your hair tightened. But he had had enough. Both of his hands found your hair and pushed your head down, earning a gag at the sudden contact of his tip with your throat. You swore you could hear the smirk in his groans as your tongue worked around his length while he pushed your head up and down rapidly.

“Just like that...good...take it all.” You would be lying if you said his words didn’t make you rub your thighs together, desperate for something, anything to fulfill your need.

Before you could lead one of your hands between your legs, warm ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. Armin thrusted in your mouth a couple more times, milking his orgasm and overstimulating himself enough that a few more drops of the hot liquid joined your saliva. Removing himself with a squelch, he grazed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Good. Swallow like the whore you are.” You did as he said, your eyesight blurry and your head dizzy from the facefucking you just went through. Without wasting another minute, Armin got up, pulling you with him and leaving a rough, needy kiss on your swollen lips. With a knee spreading your legs and rubbing right at your core, he kissed down your neck and collarbones, allowing you to let out the most quiet moans.

“Look at you. At this rate, you’re gonna get off using my leg.” You could only respond with a hum as he tackled you on his bed, not wasting any time in taking his clothes off before getting on top of you. His hands roamed your curves and yours stayed around his neck, fidgeting with the gold chain around it. A sudden moan escaped your lips when two of Armin’s fingers scissored your slit open and entered with ease. His eyes fixated on your face; the way your lips trembled and your eyes rolled back with every pump of his slender fingers, oh how he wished he could spend every second of the day looking at you like this; so sweet, so vulnerable, almost too innocent, yet so perfect for him to ruin.

“Please, Armin...’m gonna-”

“Aww, too bad.” He removed his fingers and laughed at your disappointed face, which soon turned into a surprised one when he grabbed both your legs and placed them over his shoulders. You both let out a gasp when his pink tip entered your hole. Armin was not like anyone you’ve been with. He didn’t care about letting you adjust to his girth, thinking it was much more pleasurable to see you struggling not to make a sound.

“Armin...”

“Yeah, say my name, love.” He thrusted harder into your walls, hands gripping your hips to ground you in your spot. Another thrust from Armin and another moan from you, each time the thrusts getting quicker and your soft voice louder, not even beginning to think that there were people on the other side of the thin walls.

“Why so quiet, love? Do you not...like...the way I’m fucking you?” He said between quick thrusts, not giving you the time to make out a single word. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the knot tied low in your stomach was ready to come untied.

“Answer me.” He ordered, the grip on your hips now almost painful. You opened your eyes to see him leaning down, your legs now almost next to your head on the pillow. Armin hovered over you, now fucking your hole with more ease. You noticed he let out soft, needy whines every time your walls clenched around his cock, to which you grinned slightly. Bad choice.

“Do you think it’s funny? The way you let me fuck you so easily?” A hand now met your hair, pulling your head back into the pillow a bit.

“A-Armin!”

“That’s right. Say my name, whore.” He closed his eyes, taking in the sound of his name coming from your mouth. Your walls clenched around him as the knot finally came undone, and you were sure your juices were spilling on the sheets.

“Please...too sensitive...I can’t-” Your words came out in stutters, your legs closing involuntarily only for Armin to push them open again every time.

“Say my name.” He moaned out, thrusting inside your cunt now almost inhumanly fast.

“Armin!” Your second orgasm was on the way and your legs were starting to shake from the overstimulation. Armin didn’t fail to notice it and he wouldn’t lie if he said he wasn’t close as well, but he had learned to control himself. He couldn’t let it be over so soon. Not when he finally had you where he wanted you all along.

In the heat of the moment, it took you a few seconds to notice a stinging on your cheek, but when you did, you looked up at the blond, who was smirking down at you, hand still on your red cheek.

“Who’s fucking you? Huh?”

“You! You’re fucking me, Armin!”

“Louder.” He grunted, finally giving some attention to your nipples by slapping them teasingly.

“Armin! Armin! Fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Cum on my cock...fuck, ___.” Armin couldn’t take it anymore when your walls clenched around him once again as you orgasmed for the second time that night. Between moans and gasps and whispers of his name, you felt a wave of air hit your core and you realized Armin had pulled out.

He was now rubbing his swollen cock over your stomach, the other hand desperately massaging your breast. To help him, you led his hand to your other breast and took his cock in your own, thumb grazing over his red tip to make the beads of cum coat the rest of his length. Armin tilted his head back, not shy to moan loudly at the way your hand rubbed his length so...perfectly.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that, love.” His legs shook slightly as his warm cum drew on your stomach and breasts, shooting almost up to your neck due to the overstimulation he went through. Exhausted and out of breath, Armin fell on the pillow next to you and planted a rough kiss on your lips.

“Let me take a picture of you. Don’t move.” Shocked, you couldn’t even blurt out a word at what he suggested, but something deep inside you made you nod in agreement. Maybe that tiny crush you had on Armin for one month on your first year finally decided to come out and play.

“Look at the camera, love. Now, smile. ” He ordered, getting on top of you with an old-fashioned polaroid in hand. He took one of your breasts in his big, soft hand and snapped a picture that he’d later pin over his bed, a reminder for himself and everyone that Armin Arlert always got what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Lmao I hope y’all liked this otherwise it’d be embarrassing. Anyway, requests are always open, leave some for me to do while I procrastinate! <3

#armin arlert #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #aot lemons #attack on titan x reader #lemons #attack on titan #snk x reader #armin aot

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it.

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least.

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself.

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin.

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion.

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing.

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs.

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees.

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening.

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane.

“Are these real stories?”

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle.

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare.

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life.

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention.

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth.

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt.

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?”

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him.

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of?

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out.

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity.

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra.

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life? Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice…

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